Legacy of Lies. JoAnn Ross

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Chapter Four

      Santa Barbara, California

      June 1982

      The house, perched dramatically atop a hill, was draped in fog. Inside, candles flickered in Wedgwood holders. A fire blazed in the high, stone library fireplace.

      Beside the fireplace, two women sat at opposite sides of a small mahogany table. Eleanor Lord wore an ivory silk blouse and linen slacks from Lord’s Galleria department.

      Across the table, theatrically clad in a lavender turban and a billowy caftan of rainbow chiffon, Clara Kowalski reached into a flowered tapestry bag and pulled out a small amethyst globe.

      “The crystal is radiating amazing amounts of positive energy today,” Clara said.

      “Do you really believe Jarlath can locate Anna?”

      Clara clucked her tongue. “Jarlath is merely a guide, Eleanor. Aiding you to evolve to a higher dimension.”

      “I’d rather he skip the evolution stuff and find my granddaughter,” Eleanor muttered.

      Eleanor considered herself a logical woman. She had always scoffed at those tales of farmers being kidnapped by aliens. Nor did she believe in the Bermuda Triangle, Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster. From the beginning of her marriage, Eleanor had been an equal partner in The Lord’s Group, the department store chain established by her husband. When James Lord had died of a heart attack nearly thirty years ago, she took over the business without missing a step.

      Despite her advanced years, despite the fact she now preferred doing business from her Santa Barbara home rather than trek down the coast to the chain’s Los Angeles headquarters, Eleanor remained vigorous and continued her quest to keep Lord’s the most successful department store in the world.

      That same single-mindedness that had made Lord’s a leader in fashion merchandising contributed to another, even more unrelenting obsession.

      Eleanor had vowed to find her granddaughter, whatever it took. And although twenty-four years had passed, she had not stopped trying.

      Each year, on the anniversary of Anna’s disappearance, she’d place an advertisement offering a generous reward for information regarding her granddaughter’s abduction in numerous metropolitan and small-town newspapers.

      Thus far, once again, the advertisement had yielded nothing.

      A less stubborn woman would have given up what everyone kept telling her was a futile search. But tenacity ran deep in Eleanor’s veins. Besides, some inner sense told her she’d know if her granddaughter had been killed. Anna was alive. Of that, Eleanor had absolutely no doubt.

      “As a businesswoman, you utilize your left brain, your logical side,” Clara was saying. Eleanor returned her thoughts to the séance. “Jarlath will help you get in touch with your intuitive side. Once that doorway is open, you will have your answer.”

      Eleanor admitted to herself that the medium sounded uncomfortably like one of those frauds Mike Wallace was always unmasking on “60 Minutes.” But, not wanting to leave any stone unturned, she was willing to try anything. Even this dabbling in the occult, which undoubtedly had all her Presbyterian ancestors spinning in their graves.

      “Well,” she said briskly, “let’s get started.”

      Clara placed an Ouija board between them, took a chunk of quartz from her bag and placed it in the center of the board.

      “Rock quartz is allied to the energies of the moon,” she said. “I’ve found it makes a more sensitive channel than the usual pointer. The amethyst shade is exceptionally powerful.”

      Eleanor nodded and wondered, not for the first time, what had made her agree to this farfetched idea.

      “Now,” Clara said as she lit a stick of incense, “you must clear your mind. Banish all doubts. All cynicism.”

      Just get on with it, an impatient voice in Eleanor’s cynical mind insisted. She shifted restlessly in her seat.

      “I’m sensing negative energy,” Clara chided. She began to sway. “Jarlath will not come if he is not welcome. Write your negative thoughts on a mental blackboard. Then erase them.”

      Immensely grateful that no one she knew was witnessing this outlandish scene, Eleanor took a deep breath and tried again.

      “Ahhh.” Clara nodded. “That’s better. Relax your body, Eleanor. Feel yourself growing serene. Open your mind. Allow your physical and spiritual states to become harmonized and aligned,” she intoned. She placed her fingers on the chunk of quartz. “Jarlath. Are you there?”

      Eleanor watched as the violet stone slowly slid across the board, stopping on Yes.

      “Welcome, Jarlath. This is my dear friend, Eleanor Lord. She needs your help, Jarlath. Desperately. She is trying to locate her granddaughter, Anna.”

      Although she knew it to be impossible, with the fire blazing nearby, Eleanor thought the air in the room suddenly felt cooler.

      She СКАЧАТЬ