Suddenly Psychic (Glimmer Lake #1)(3)

She told herself that working at the shop would give her more time to work on her own art, but she never did.

Robin pulled into the parking lot and parked her trusty Subaru in the space nearest the log house her parents had meticulously restored. As a child, she’d lived in the upstairs until her father, Philip, could afford a newer house in one of the developments on the edge of town.

Now the upstairs and downstairs were filled to the brim with carefully curated antiques, designer accents, and local artists’ wares.

Cabin chic, not cabin kitsch.

Glimmer Lake was a year-round vacation town. In the summer, the cool waters of the lake attracted swimmers, boaters, and anglers from the valleys at the base of the Sierra Nevada. They came to escape the baking summers in the lowlands and to enjoy the crisp air. In the winter, heavy snow made the lake town a destination for skiers, sledders, and those looking for the rare white Christmas in California.

It was four hours from San Francisco and only a little bit farther from Los Angeles. The town that occupied the banks of Glimmer Lake had replaced the old logging and mining town of Grimmer, which had been flooded in the 1940s to create a reservoir that could serve the thirsty population boom in Southern California.

It had been Robin’s grandfather who suggested changing the name to the much more pleasant Glimmer Lake. Grimmer now lay under 120 feet of water, a ghost town looking up at happy vacationers and locals alike.

Robin walked up the steps of her store to the wide porch and swept off the scattered debris of pine needles and bark the wind had blown in, then she unlocked the door and flipped the Open sign over. She wouldn’t get a visitor for at least an hour because people on vacation slept in.

Which was fine. Robin liked quiet mornings, and she really needed caffeine.

She set her coffee on the counter and pulled out her phone, then touched the second number on her favorites list and waited for the line to ring.

“Hello?”

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you,” Robin sang. “Happy birthday, dear wonderful-woman-who-is-like-a-sister-to-me.” She took a breath. “Happy birthday to you!”

Monica was laughing by the time she finished. “Thank you. You must have had your coffee.”

“Drinking it right now, my friend.”

“How’s your knee?”

“Eh.” Robin flexed it. “It’s fine. The same.”

“Are you taking the apple cider vinegar?”

“I don’t think it really does anything, Monica.”

“No, you just have to keep taking it.” She heard her friend moving through her kitchen. “I’m telling you, it helps.”

“I’ll keep taking it.” Robin nearly asked what Monica was wearing to go out that night until she remembered it was a surprise. “So, I hear Jake is making a special dinner for you tonight.”

“That boy is so sweet,” Monica said. “I know he’s between apartments right now—”

You mean between girlfriends who let him freeload.

“—but he is so helpful around the house. He cooks. He changed the oil in my car yesterday. He’s such a good boy.”

He’s a spoiled boy. “He loves his mama. He better.” Jake did love his mama. He also probably felt guilty that he’d been freeloading, but working at the marina didn’t pay that much, and Jake seemed incapable of moving more than a few miles from his childhood home.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your dinner.” Robin needed to change the subject or she was going to end up spilling about their girls’ night out. “I’m going to give you that dresser for your birthday, by the way.”

“It’s a nine-hundred-dollar dresser, Robin. Don’t even think about it.”

“It’s been sitting in that corner for over two years. It’s practically taken root. I don’t want it anymore, and you love it.” She heard the bell ring over the door and the creak of old hinges. “I’ll call Jake to come pick it up. Bye-gotta-go.” She blew a kiss into the phone and ended the call.

“Hello?” She walked out from behind the counter. “Can I help you?”

She walked to the door of the shop, but there was no one there. Maybe whoever it was had peeked in and left? Robin looked out to the parking lot and saw no new cars. No pedestrians.

She frowned. “Weird.”

Robin shrugged and walked back to the counter. It was hardly the first time the door had blown open and hit the bell. It happened pretty regularly.

“Because old houses, that’s why.” She logged on to her computer and checked her online sales page and her retailer accounts. She sold as much via the internet these days as she did in the store, but since her family already owned the building and the furniture needed to be kept somewhere, it made sense to keep the shop even with the extra overhead. After all, if the shop wasn’t open, what would Robin do to pass the time?

She responded to an email from Emma’s guidance counselor.

She texted her mom about visiting her grandma Helen that afternoon.

At noon she forgot to eat lunch while she was helping a couple from Marin County choose between two dining tables for their vacation home. She grabbed a granola bar after they left.

By two, she locked up the shop so she could go visit Grandma Helen.

This is my life.

Robin climbed in her trusty Subaru to drive the five miles to Russell House, the enormous family home that overlooked Glimmer Lake.