Suddenly Psychic (Glimmer Lake #1)(55)

Robin felt her heart clutch. “A woman?”

Mark spoke slowly. “Even after twenty years, she still drives me crazy. Still keeps me guessing. I try to make her happy, but… after all this time, I’m still not sure I get it right.”

Robin blinked hard. “Sounds like she doesn't make it easy on you.”

“Well, she’s got a lot going on. And she’s always thinking about other people before herself.”

Robin bit her lip. “Mark—”

“I can be an asshole when I don't know what the right thing to do is,” he said quietly. “I need you to tell me things. Maybe that’s dumb and male of me, but—”

“You’re not dumb. Not even close to it.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I need… to be better about communicating. That’s on me.”

“I think we could both improve in that.”

“Yeah.” Robin didn’t know what else to say. “I should get back to Grandma Helen, but I won’t be home too late.”

“Good.” Something chimed, and the weird mood he was in seemed to clear. “That’s Emma. She said she’d text when she was done at the library.”

Robin let out a long breath. “That girl really needs to get her license.”

“I’m about ready to drop her off at the DMV in Bridger City and not pick her up until she has it.”

“Right?” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Mark?”

“Yeah?”

Ughhhhhh. She bit the bullet. “Can you just buy me a car that you think I’ll like and be done with it? I’m sick of asking for rides from everyone, and I hate car shopping so much.”

“You don’t care what kind of car you get?”

“I mean, I care. But you know what I like. I trust you to get something good.” Kinda. She kinda trusted him. Leap of faith, Robin.

“Good and safe.”

“And safe, yes. As far as the details, I don’t really care that much.” She cared so much, but she genuinely did hate car shopping.

“Okay!” He sounded like someone had put sugar in his coffee. “Yeah, I can take care of that. I’ll do it this weekend.”

“Thanks.” She saw something flickering at the edge of the forest.

What the…? “Hey honey, I have to go.”

“Right. I have to get Emma. I’ll see you when you get home.”

“’Kay.” She turned off her phone, slipped it in her pocket, and nearly ran across the lawn. By the time she reached the edge of the forest, Billy’s ghost was walking away.

“Stop!” Robin was panting. Man, she really needed to start running again. Screw her knee, she hated feeling weak. “Billy, we know about you and Helen.”

He turned and frowned. “What?”

“Helen” —Robin panted— “is my grandmother. I am Helen’s granddaughter.”

“Helen’s granddaughter?” His eye went wide. “That’s why you looked familiar. Are you—?”

“Not yours.” She stood up straight. “I’m sorry. My mother was Helen and Gordon’s daughter. But her older brother, my uncle… Well, he’s—”

“The baby.” Billy’s face was the picture of grief. “We found out, and God forgive me, I was so happy. It was every dream come true.”

For you, maybe. Robin had to imagine that being unmarried and pregnant wasn’t Helen’s idea of a dream come true. “Were you planning on getting married?”

“Oh yes. There was nothing more I wanted in life than to marry Helen Moore. She was sunshine. Smart as a whip and funny. She was scared at first—about the baby—but I told her we could just leave. Her and me. We’d get married and walk away from that old town. We could go up to Sacramento with my people.”

“What happened?”

He shook his head. “I don’t remember. I just can’t remember anything.”

Robin looked over her shoulder to the grand house on the edge of the lake. “Do you ever go see her?”

His smile was sad. “I can’t. I can’t even get close. But I can feel her, especially when she’s happy. Something about her…”

Robin’s heart felt like it was breaking. “Is that why you stayed?”

“I couldn’t leave because there was something I had to do. I had to be someplace and I missed it.”

“Did it have to do with Helen?”

He furrowed his brow. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“The sheriff, he said you were murdered.”

“We knew that already, didn’t we?”

“No.” Robin stepped toward him. “I mean, it wasn’t just the drowning. You didn’t drown in that mine shaft. They examined the bones on your neck. Someone took a knife and—”

“Whoa.” Billy held up his hands. “I get the idea.” He rubbed his neck. “That’s unpleasant, for sure.”

“Who would want to kill you? Did you have any enemies?”

“Not that I know of. A few fellows didn’t like me much, but that’s no cause for killing, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah.” Robin did know what he meant. She wasn’t a trained detective, but something in her gut said that whoever had chained Billy and then cut his throat had hated him with passion. Chaining someone up was killing from a distance. A knife to the throat was personal, direct, and very, very permanent. Someone wanted to make very sure Billy Grimmer was dead.