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  “Did he understand what he was doing? Did he mean to kill her?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened to Olive’s husband?”

  “The law couldn’t touch him, because no one could prove that he’d actually murdered her. No one knew enough about the bookmarks. But Grandma wound so many extra knots in his bookmark, he swore that he wished he’d never been born.”

  Josh nodded. “Served him right.”

  “He got lucky. If Grandma hadn’t punished him, the Universe would have, and it makes mortals look like amateurs. The bookmarks are our predestined journey before we come here,” Thea said. “No one should tamper with them. Ever.”

  “And you think someone tampered with Dad’s?”

  Thea looked at the loose, bent strings dangling below the tight weave. “I’m sure of it.”

  “Who? How?” Josh asked.

  “I don’t know.” Thea had the only key to the weaving room. Even if someone broke into the first floor, where Josh carved and Gabe once made his dulcimers and guitars, they couldn’t get past Thea’s shining archway unless she accompanied them. That was the celestial law. And the only person she’d ever allowed to enter the room was Rachel, and now Josh.

  “How does the archway work?” Josh asked.

  “I don’t know. It just does.”

  He glanced at the golden light that curved above the stairs. “Could someone trick it?”

  “It can’t be done.”

  “But someone did,” Josh pointed out. “Did Dad ever come here?”

  “Not with me.”

  His eyebrows knotted together. “Is that a yes or a no?”

  “He never wanted to. He was like you. He said the room made him nervous, but I think he visited my mom once when she was working.”

  Josh looked up at the human lives depicted in hues of pinks, blues, grays, browns, and every other shade imaginable. He rubbed his arms. “I’ve seen it, and that’s enough. I’m ready to get out of here.”

  But as Thea followed him down the stairway and locked the door behind them, she wondered about who, or what, had entered the weaving room. And why had they tampered with Gabe’s destiny?

  “Would you go find your sister?” she asked Josh. “And ask her to come home? I need to tell her what happened.”

  Or did Rachel already know? Thea quashed the ugly suspicion as soon as she thought it. She felt guilty that it even crossed her mind. Rachel loved her father. She’d been the first to forgive him. Someone unwound Gabe’s bookmark, but Thea would bet money that it wasn’t Rachel. Yet, who else could it have been?

  Chapter 6

  After Thea put Hannah to bed that night, she made herself a mug of hot tea and carried it outside. She sipped it while gently rocking in the wicker chair on the deck. No Rachel yet. And no Josh, either. As she rocked, she looked up at the night sky and marveled at the stars. The Big Dipper blinked to the north. Venus blazed to the west. Jupiter sparkled to the east--a vast, cosmic map stretched out above her. But the map had misled her. Gabe was gone. Some mortal had sabotaged her happiness and taken him from her.

  How could anyone get inside her weaving room? she asked herself for the hundredth time. Even Rachel couldn’t enter without her until Thea passed the torch of responsibility to her daughter. So how had Gabe’s bookmark been pulled loose?

  Thea finished her tea. She felt tired, exhausted. She wished Rachel had come home earlier. She didn’t know if she’d have the energy to comfort her later. Where was she anyway? The moon was a sliver away from being full. Silver light painted the tree trunks and made them stand out from the shadows behind them. The hilly terrain across the stream dipped and surged before it finally flattened and the roofs of houses dotted the landscape. She looked south, toward the shops that lined street after street. Soft light spilled from picture windows. Thea knew that enticing displays were arranged behind each pane of glass to lure tourists inside.

  West of the shops was the Wabash River with its sluggish, muddy water. And to the north of town was the national park with its spectacular display of leaves. East of that was the lake. Inbetween the lake and the park was Les Smith’s winery.

  Les’s grapes made some of the finest zinfandels to be had, but for years, Thea gagged every time she sipped one. No fault of the wine. When she and Gabe divorced, Melissa Smith was sure that Gabe would run into her waiting arms. Instead, Gabe packed his belongings and left Emerald Hills. Melissa fumed for weeks before she moved to a new prey--Les Smith. Les was widowed and gray haired, but he was rich. Melissa bagged him in short time.

  Knowing that Melissa profited from Les’s wine made it taste like vinegar in Thea’s mouth until she finally separated the wine from the slut, in her mind. She was okay with it now. Why punish herself to spite someone else? Emerald Hills, for her, was as close to paradise on earth as a person could get, and she intended to enjoy every aspect of it. After all, even the Garden of Eden had one snake in it.

  A breeze sprang up, and it grew chilly. Rachel wasn’t coming. At first, it irritated her. She could have used some company tonight. But then she waved the anger away. Rachel was in love. At a time like this, she’d want to be with Isak. And Josh would linger with his sister. They’d always huddled together in times of trouble.

  She was alone. There was no need to be strong for anyone. The tears fell and sobs broke loose. She cried until her eyes were swollen and red and her throat raw. She cried until she felt limp and depleted. Thea was ready to go inside when a flickering of light caught her eye. Soon, Gabe was standing before her. She drank in his presence--his tall, muscled body, his handsome face and thick hair.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “For dying?”

  His lips turned up. “That, too, but that wasn’t my fault.”

  “I wanted you to come back to me,” she said.

  “I know. I would have, in time. When it would work.”

  “You can’t now.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  She sniffled. “Not the same.”

  “I’m sorry I hurt you. Again.”

  “I want you.”

  His eyes danced with laughter. “I’m limited here. I haven’t quite figured out how to operate.”

  She took a deep breath. “At least you came to say goodbye. That was nice.”

  He shuffled his feet, looked down at his hands. “I have a confession to make. That’s why I’m here.”

  “That’s history,” she said. “I’m over it.”

  “Not Melissa. Josh.”

  “Josh?” She frowned. Her head ached from too much crying. What was he talking about?

  “I know you’ve been worried about him. My grandmother told me.” Gabe’s grandma, Annabel Ferrier, lived on West Ruby Riverwalk, a two-mile walk from Thea’s house.

  “He’s lost,” Thea said. “He doesn’t seem to have any focus, any goals, not even a girlfriend.”

  “That’s my fault,” Gabe said.

  “Because you weren’t here for his teen years?”

  “No.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Because I fiddled with his bookmark, and now I think I messed it up.”

  Thea sat up straight. “How? How did you get to it?” Damn it, were more bookmarks tampered with than she realized?

  Gabe put his hands behind his back, rocked on the soles of his feet. “I went to visit your mother when Josh was born. She was working on his bookmark. I asked her for a glass of water. When she went to get it, I saw this big knot in Josh’s weaving. It was all thick and ugly, so I unraveled part of it and smoothed it out.”

  She was shocked and couldn’t hide it. “You know better.”

  “I didn’t understand then. I thought I was helping Josh. Now, I know he needed some challenge that I took away from him. That’s why he’s so lost. I took away his direction.”

  She stared. “Did you do anything to your bookmark?”

  “Mine?” He looked surprised. “I wouldn’t even know which one it was. That place gave me the creeps, a
ll those lives waiting for their knots and fancy patterns to happen. It was too much for me. And every time I thought about Josh’s pattern, I wondered what I did to it, and I panicked.”

  Gabe had felt guilty, that’s why he never visited her when she was working. “That’s why you never came to my studio?”

  “I was afraid I’d glance over at Josh’s bookmark, and you’d know. You’d see it in my face somehow.”

  She shook her head. She didn’t know what happened to Gabe’s bookmark, and she didn’t know what to do about this. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “Put the knots back where they belong,” Gabe said.

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “You have to try. When I died, that’s why I couldn’t leave, and an answer came to me. I think it’s the right one. Do a life map for him and you’ll figure out which knot should be where.”

  “I’ve never done that before.” She’d enlarged weavings that were already there, but she’d never created something out of nothing. She wasn’t sure she could.

  “But you’ll try?”

  “What else can I do?”

  “Thank you.”

  “It might not work.”

  “You always fix everything and everybody. You point us in the right direction.”

  “You did me the favor,” she said. “You came to tell me what happened. You didn’t have to.”

  He fidgeted. “I can stay awhile.”

  “How long?”

  “Until you leave, too.”

  Thea didn’t know what to say.

  “But if you don’t want me to, I can go.”

  “I’d love it,” she said too quickly, then felt selfish. “But what about you? Why would anyone stay here when they can go to the light?”

  “Because you’re here,” he said simply.

  More tears spilled down her cheeks. She brushed them away with the back of her hand. “You’re still following your life’s journey, you know. You weren’t supposed to die yet. You were supposed to come back to me, but someone pulled the threads loose on your bookmark.”

  “On mine?” This time his surprise was more like shock. “Why? Everyone likes me.”

  “Not everyone,” she said.

  “Was it you?”

  She glared. “Would I tell you if I was the one who did it?”

  “Guess not, but you’d have reason. You’re the only one.” He thought a minute. “Your mother or grandmother?”

  “Get real. They like you. Besides, no weaver tampers with bookmarks. We’d lose our talent.”

  “Your mom doesn’t weave anymore, so what difference would it make?”

  Thea thought about that. “Weavers take bookmarks too seriously. And the celestial laws.”

  “Is it safe for you to do Josh’s life map then?”

  “Life maps are different. I only study the bookmark and enlarge it.”

  Gabe started to fade. “Sorry,” he said again. “I’m not good at this yet. I’ll be back.”

  “Hurry,” she said. She needed him. She’d been lonely way too long. She’d rather have Gabe as a ghost than any other man as a mortal.

  Chapter 7

  The next day, Thea couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t settle, so she did what she always did when she sought solace. She went to the kitchen and started to cook. There was something about cutting and chopping, searing and simmering that brought her a sense of purpose and peace, but she had to keep it simple. Ten year-olds weren’t known for their refined taste buds, and Hannah was no exception. She might talk to ghosts, but she still preferred a hotdog to pate’ when lunchtime rolled around.

  Thin slices of flank steak marinated, and Thea was slicing piles of peppers and onions when Rachel and Isak hurried through the door.

  “Mom, I’m sorry. I should have been here for you last night, but when Josh told me, I fell apart. All I did was cry until I fell asleep. No one was here for you.”

  “Your dad came.”

  “You’ve seen him?” Rachel asked. “Again?”

  “I waited up for you last night,” Thea said. “You didn’t come back. Neither did Josh. And that’s okay. I understand. But your dad came, and we talked.” After Gabe left, Thea fell asleep on the sofa in the living room. She couldn’t bear to sleep in her bed, the bed she and Gabe had shared. But this morning, she felt stiff and sluggish. She glanced at the clock. Nearly ten, Rachel and Isak were usually busy in the bakery. “Where’s Josh?”

  “By the stream, carving. It’s his way of coping.” Rachel came and leaned into her mother’s arms. “Are you all right? I feel fuzzy, like my brain doesn’t work.”

  Thea hugged her close and patted her back, like she did when Rachel was a small child. “Grief sucks. And it hangs around for a long time. Did Josh tell you about the bookmark?”

  Hannah came to join everyone, pried from her Saturday morning cartoons by the hope of hearing something she wasn’t meant to. Death didn’t faze her like it did other people, maybe because in her mind it was just a switch from the physical to the transparent.

  Rachel frowned. “What bookmark?”

  Thea was explaining when Josh sauntered into the room, his hands deep in his pockets. A small silence followed.

  “Someone purposely cut Dad’s life short?” Rachel finally asked.

  “Yes.”

  Rachel frowned. “I didn’t know you could. I thought once the threads were tied, that was it.”

  “That’s how Granny Doreen became a weaver,” said Thea.

  “Remember?”

  “But I thought the Universe changed that, so that bookmarks were final once the knot was tied.”

  “Only for weavers.” Thea’s voice caught, and she picked up the dishrag to wipe off the butcher block, busying herself with a mindless task to regain her composure. “No one can mess with a weaver’s bookmark, or there might not be someone else trained to take her place.”

  “Figures.” Josh sounded so bitter that everyone turned to stare. “The rest of us mortals are pretty disposable, aren’t we?”

  “Not really.” Rachel’s voice was sharper than usual, too. Grief does that, Thea knew. The shock gives way to anger. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” Rachel went on. “Why we weave--we’re each given our allotted time to accomplish what we came for. If that time’s cut short, it’s a crime against the universe.”

  Josh shrugged. “Whatever. Some of us seem like we’re more important than others.” He glanced at his mom. “What about my talent? I’m a Patek. There’s nothing too magical about whittling. Did I get skipped over?”

  He’d finally voiced a question that Thea had asked herself many times. “You have one,” she said. “You just haven’t found it yet.” That’s the only answer that made sense.

  “Maybe because it doesn’t exist.”

  Thea took a deep breath. “You have a talent. You’ll find it. You’re a Patek. If you had me do a . . .”

  Josh shook his head. “Forget it. Don’t go there.”

  Thea was going to explain about Gabe loosening a knot in Josh’s bookmark when Hannah interrupted.

  “Who’d kill Uncle Gabe?” Hannah asked, her eyes clouded with worry. Death might be a natural event to Hannah, but murder wasn’t.

  Josh’s lips tightened, and Rachel reached for Isak’s hand.

  “I don’t know,” Thea said. She bent to wrap her arms around her ten-year-old.

  “How can it happen?” Rachel asked. “No one can go in the studio alone but you.”

  Her daughter realized what she’d just said and stopped to study Thea’s face carefully.

  “It wasn’t me,” Thea said.

  Rachel looked down, embarrassed.

  Thea shrugged away the accusation. “If I was going to pull your dad’s threads, it would have been when I caught him with Melissa.”

  Rachel was a smart girl. She jumped easily to the next thought. “You don’t think it was me, do you?”

  “No, I did what you just did. You were the only other person
I could think of, but we’re missing the obvious. Someone else got into the studio, and we have to figure out how. Remember the day we felt the strange vibes in the studio? Someone or something had been there.” She hesitated, trying to think of the right way to word her next piece of information. She looked at Josh. “Your dad came back to tell me about the time he went to the studio when my mom was working. He tampered with a bookmark then, and we couldn’t tell for twenty years.” She told them about Gabe smoothing out the knots in Josh’s bookmark. “He wanted to be nice to you, but he didn’t help you. If you don’t mind, I need to do a life map weaving and see what you needed that you didn’t get. That’s why you’re aimless right now. Maybe that’s why you can’t find your talent.”

  “Dad changed my bookmark?”

  “He saw all the knots and couldn’t stand the idea of you being in that much misery.”

  “And that’s what’s wrong with me?” Josh asked.

  Thea nodded.

  Josh sagged onto a corner of the pine table. “Thank God! That makes me feel so much better.”

  Thea blinked, surprised. “It does?”

  “I thought it was me, that something was wrong with me.”

  Tears misted her eyes again, and Thea blinked quickly. “There’s never been anything wrong with you, Josh. Never. I’m so lucky. I got two, no, three beautiful children.” She took a deep breath. “Can I weave your map then?”

  “The sooner, the better. Something’s missing. I can feel it. Will you be able to find out what it was?”

  “I’ll try.”

  With the big news delivered, everyone milled around the kitchen, tossing ideas back and forth, and helping with lunch, but no one was really hungry. They only picked at the food.

  When the meal was over, Isak said, “Josh and I will clean up if you and Rachel want to go to town and tell Annabel.”

  Annabel. Thea had been putting off telling her. Gabe’s grandmother was eighty-six, and she’d always been sharp as a tack, but lately, she was getting confused and forgetful. How would she take the news?

  “Come on, Mom. We’ll do it together,” Rachel said, sliding an arm through Thea’s. “I ditched you last night, but I can be there for you now.”