Suddenly Psychic (Glimmer Lake #1)(71)

“What is it?” Robin walked closer and realized the clothes weren’t dingy, they were camouflage pattern. “That’s Grandfather Russell’s hunting gear.”

Val said, “Didn’t your dad say that he had a knife collection with all his hunting stuff?”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “I remember it. He had a bunch of knives, all spread out on the wall above the mantel in the living room.”

Mark frowned. “Not gonna lie, I like sharp, pointy things as much as the next guy, but that’s kind of creepy. Maybe in your office, but the living room?”

“Yeah.” Robin walked over and opened the box next to the one Monica was going through. “Christmas Day and we’d have stockings hanging on the mantel. Right under the massive knife collection.”

“What kind of knives?” Monica asked.

“Hunting knives mostly. He had some historic pieces.” Robin searched her memory, trying to put herself back into childhood. “They weren’t collectors’ pieces. They looked used. There were some really old ones. I remember a buffalo-skinning knife with a horn handle. One little short one that he said went in your sock? I don’t remember them all.”

“No knives in here,” Mark set another box to the side. “Let’s concentrate on this section though.”

“The knives were the first thing Grandma wanted packed up,” Robin said. “I do remember that. I remember her talking to Dad. I don’t know why that memory is so clear, but it is. She said, ‘Philip, I’ve been living with those things in my face for forty years. Put them away, won’t you?’”

A chill swept down Robin’s back and she turned. Was she seeing things? There was a shadow just behind the work lamps in the corner of the room. She walked toward it.

Val shouted, “I think I found something.”

Robin turned for a moment and the shadow was gone.

“Robin, come here,” Mark said. “Is this the collection?” He, Val, and Robin were standing around a box on the sheet-covered table. He held up a familiar bowie knife.

“Yes,” Robin said. “That’s it.”

They started unwrapping each blade. Five weapons in, Monica dropped a knife, which fell to the table with a hard thud.

“Monica?”

She pointed to the weapon. “That one. That’s the knife I saw. It’s not covered in blood, but that’s the one in my dream.”

The knife she was pointing to didn’t look particularly ominous. Like so many of the others, it was an old-fashioned hunting knife with a fixed blade about six or seven inches long. The handle was wrapped in leather, and the hilt was detailed in brass. It was secured in a thick leather sheath.

Mark reached for it and slid it out of the sheath. “It’s clean.”

Val took a deep breath and took off her gloves. “Monica, are you sure?”

Monica looked like she was going to cry. She slid the knife across the table. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Val looked around the attic. “There’s something up here. You guys feel it?”

“Yes,” Robin said.

“Yeah.” Mark crossed his arms. “I don’t even have superpowers and I can feel it.”

Val stared at the knife in front of her. “Grandma Helen fed me cookies and rubbed sunscreen on my back when I was a little kid. She braided my hair for me. She gave me money for a prom dress when my parents told me they didn’t have enough.”

Robin looked at her. “You never told me that.”

“Me either,” Monica said.

Val blinked hard. “She told me it was between us. That ladies needed to look out for each and take care of each other.” She looked around the attic. “She’s been living with this… whatever it is… for how long? Thirty years? Longer?” Val looked at Robin. “We need to get rid of it. We need to keep it away from her. Once and for all.”

Val wrapped her fingers around the handle of the knife and closed her eyes.

A spark snapped beneath her hand, then she gasped and fell to the ground, still clutching the knife. She arched her back and her whole body shuddered.

“Get the knife!” Mark yelled. “Monica, hold her arm still.” He knelt down and grabbed Val’s wrist, tearing the knife from her rigid grasp. He stood and put it on the table, sliding the knife back in the sheath.

“Val!” Robin knelt next to her friend and held her head. “Val, we’re here.”

“She’s gonna throw up,” Monica said. “Mark, is there a bag? A bucket? Anything!”

He ran to the corner and grabbed an old brass wastebasket. “Got it.”

Val opened her eyes, and Robin helped her up to her knees and then pulled her hair back while Monica held the wastebasket in front of Val’s face.

There wasn’t too much in her stomach, but she dry heaved for what felt like five minutes straight. Robin and Monica rubbed her back, and Mark ran down to the third floor to look for tissues and some water.

“It was him,” Val said quietly. “Gordon waited for the dark. Billy was trying so hard to get out of the chains that he didn’t even hear him. He snuck up on Billy and cut his throat, just as Billy worked his foot free. He was bloody all over his leg, but Gordon…”