Chasing Rainbow Read online

  This could be very messy and unpleasant for her, she realized, whether or not she found ghosts. Either way the condo residents were apt to be unhappy with her. On the other hand, if there really were ghosts over there, she couldn’t abide the thought that the spirits might be unhappy and trapped.

  “I’ll do it,” she said finally, looking at the Websters again. “But with two stipulations.”

  “And they are?” Ellis asked.

  “First, no one outside the condo membership is to know about it. If anyone whispers a word of this outside the building, especially to the press, I’ll withdraw immediately.”

  Ellis looked surprised, but nodded. “Very well. I don’t think any of us wants the news to get out that the building is haunted and that we’ve hired a psychic.”

  “Which leads me to my other stipulation. I don’t want to be paid for this.”

  “Oh, now really,” Ellis began. He plainly didn’t like the idea.

  Rainbow, however, was insistent. She didn’t want to be accused of cheating elderly people out of their money. “No pay,” she repeated, “of any kind. No flowers, no food, no gifts, no money.”

  Ellis started to object again, but his wife cut him off. “That’s all right,” Pat said. She smiled at Rainbow. “Ellis is a businessman. He likes to have contracts and written agreements. But I think we can all do without that this time, Ellis.”

  “But the association won’t have any proof that it made an attempt to exorcize the ghosts!”

  “But everyone involved will know that we have,” she assured him. “That’s good enough.”

  But Rainbow felt it important to make something clear. “I don’t exorcize ghosts,” she said firmly. “If you want an exorcism, you’ll need a clergyman.”

  Ellis didn’t like that, either. “We have people of all faiths living there! They might be offended.”

  “Some of them are going to be offended by a seance,” Pat pointed out reasonably. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll get a minister or a rabbi, or both. One step at a time, Ellis. It’s nearly impossible to get a minister to do an exorcism these days. A seance is the simplest and easiest way to start dealing with this problem.”

  “One other proviso,” Rainbow said. “I may not do a seance. I may just attempt to glean impressions. And the whole matter might not be settled with one attempt. It’ll all depend on what I find.”

  Ellis nearly rolled his eyes. “I don’t believe this! Surely there’s a right way and a wrong way to do this, some series of steps that you have to follow.”

  Rainbow almost felt sorry for him. She’d met many people like him, and they all hated to hear what she was about to say. “I have to follow my intuition, Mr. Webster. That’s the only formula I have.”

  Ellis Webster looked as if he found the idea unpalatable, but to Rainbow’s relief, he didn’t try to argue with her. She promised to come by that evening to speak with the association, then walked the Websters to the door.

  Moments later she was wondering if the major change she had been anticipating had just walked through the door.

  Joe Krebbs chuckled as he looked over the edge of his cloud. Sitting beside him, Lucinda worked on some embroidery, her needle flashing in the perpetual sunlight.

  She would vastly have preferred an overstuffed wingchair to sit on, but Joe was enamored of the whole cloud idea, and she was indulging him. Cliched though it was, Joe had always longed to float around on a cloud and play a golden harp. He’d tired of the harp a long time ago, and Lucy was hoping he’d soon get tired of floating on a cloud so that she could have an ordinary living room with comfortable chairs.

  But she loved Joe with her whole heart, and she wanted his afterlife to be perfect, so she plumped up a little bit of cloud-stuff behind her for a backrest and reached for another shimmering thread.

  “What’s so funny, Joe?” she asked placidly, working ruby thread into gleaming white fabric stretched over a golden hoop.

  “It’s not funny, exactly,” he answered, his chin propped in his hand. “Actually, it’s what we were hoping to happen. But poor Ellis looks like he just swallowed a lemon.”

  “I take it he asked Rainbow to investigate us?”

  “Yup.”

  “Poor girl.”

  “Poor girl? Why? This is what she does for a living.”

  “Well, she’ll have to deal with all the doubting Thomases down there.”

  “Rainbow’s been dealing with them all her life. She’ll manage.”

  “I certainly hope so. I just wish there were a better way to do this.”

  “I don’t know of one. We’ll just have to keep things hopping until we get a chance to put the message through.”

  Lucy put aside her embroidery. Almost at once it dissolved into cloud-stuff.

  “Your nephew’s not married, is he?”

  Joe looked at her. “Jake? No, not even involved.” Suddenly his eyes sparkled. “Lucy, you wouldn’t!”

  She gave him a smile. “Rainbow deserves something for all her trouble, don’t you think?”

  Joe’s answering laugh bounced from cloud to cloud.

  Two

  Wearing a green business suit that brought out the mossy green of her eyes, Rainbow sat at the back of the room and watched the condo association meeting. Given the time of year, a surprising number of the owners were present, nearly sixty in all. Apparently quite a few snowbirds—winter residents—had flown down in order to vote for the new association president. Rainbow had no idea who Jake Carpenter was, but he had evidently decided not to come to the meeting.

  “Which just goes to show,” said a man in yellow Bermuda shorts, orange polo shirt, sandals, and white socks, “that he doesn’t care.”

  Rainbow was inclined to agree. How had this man gotten nominated for the post if he didn’t come to meetings?

  “He’s just moving in,” said a woman with champagne-colored hair that had been teased into a puffy rat’s nest. Her makeup was thick and bright, and only served to emphasize the ruin age had made of her face. “He hasn’t even had time to unpack yet.”

  The man in the orange shirt waved a hand. “That just proves what I’m saying. He hasn’t lived here. He doesn’t know anything about us or our building.”

  “He visited Joe all the time,” said another woman, who was decked out in a flowery flowing caftan. “Lots of us know him, and he knows us. And it would be a nice gesture to Joe.”

  “Joe’s dead,” said the man in orange. “The last thing he’s concerned with now is the condo association.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure,” piped up a small, birdlike woman.

  A strange silence fell over the group. Rainbow looked around curiously, but no one turned her way and all she could see were the backs of heads.

  “Look,” said a man finally. Rainbow recognized him as Bill Dunlop, an elderly man with whom she had struck up a conversation at the library. Since then they had chatted several times on the street, and once she had had coffee with him and his wife in a nearby cafe. “We’ve all been complaining that we can’t keep up with the job. The average age in this building is sixty-three. But he’s a young man. He’ll have the energy to do the job.”

  A murmur of agreement rose from the group.

  “And if he doesn’t?” someone asked.

  “We’ll deal with that if it happens,” Bill said. “It’s possible under our rules to replace him any time a majority of members wants to hold a new election. And I don’t see anybody else here volunteering for the job.”

  “Certainly not me,” said Ellis Webster from the dais. “One year was enough. There’s a lot of work involved, and all the president gets in return is flak. Are we sure we want to do this to Jake?”

  “It’s easier to do it to someone who isn’t here,” a man near the front said. A laugh passed through the room, but when the vote was taken, Jake Carpenter was elected in absentia.

  “Since Jake isn’t here,” Ellis said, “I move we continue the meeting under the old administr
ation so we can deal with a matter of great importance. I’ll pass the reins to him first thing in the morning.”

  The motion was seconded and passed. Rainbow felt a twinge of sympathy for the unknown Jake Carpenter. Judging by the way everyone else seemed to feel about the job, the poor man was probably in for a terrible year.

  “Now,” said Ellis, “let’s move on to the haunting.”

  An uneasy silence filled the room once again, then was broken by a couple of nervous laughs.

  “I feel pretty much the same,” Ellis said. “But I’m aware the vast majority of our permanent residents are concerned. For those of you who’ve just arrived in town, let me explain briefly. Over the past couple of weeks, a number of our residents have been startled—even terrified—by inexplicable apparitions in their apartments and the hallways. I’m going to turn the floor over to some of them right now, so they can tell you what’s been going on. Olive Herschfeld will speak first.”

  A plump woman with iron-gray hair walked to the front of the room and turned to the group. She was clearly nervous, and her attempt at a pleasant smile was wobbly. So was her voice.

  “It had to be a ghost,” she said. “I don’t know what else it could be. I was standing in my living room Friday night when suddenly the air in the corner near the fireplace started to shimmer and turn all white. And it couldn’t have been lights from outside because all my curtains were closed. All I know is, it sort of looked like the shape of a person. And the room turned as cold as the inside of my refrigerator. I don’t mind telling you, I was scared out of my wits. I don’t think I’ve ever been so frightened. Zach will tell you I was terrified.”

  “That’s right.” A short, lean man stood up. “I was in the bathroom and she started screaming. I didn’t see what she saw, but I felt the room was like ice.”

  “Thank you, Olive,” Ellis said. “Next we’ll hear from Nellie Blair.”

  The pretty woman took her place in front of them. “I don’t know what it was,” she said apologetically. “I never believed in ghosts. But… something was out there on my balcony with me when I was watering my ferns. I could feel it so strongly–-” She shook her head. “Whatever it was, I didn’t see it, but I felt it. And then it splashed water in my face.”

  “That might have been the wind, Nellie,” someone said.

  “No, it wasn’t the wind. The wind was blowing the other way. But that wasn’t the only time.”

  Rainbow looked around the room, listening with one ear, but equally interested in the responses from those gathered. A surprising number appeared to be on the edge of their seats, listening intently. Only a few looked bored or embarrassed.

  “It was in my bedroom,” Nellie said. “I have a vase of dried flowers on my bedside table. A friend gave them to me, you know, before she passed on. Anyway, I went in to get my hat and the flowers were out of the vase, on the floor. The vase wasn’t even tipped over. So I put them back in the vase and went out for my walk. When I came back, the flowers were on the floor again. I thought maybe somebody was playing a terrible joke on me, but who? I live alone. Anyway, I put the flowers back, and again they were on the floor. It happened three more times. Once while I was sleeping. They were in the vase when I went to bed, and on the floor when I woke up. I’m a light sleeper, and if anybody had come into my bedroom, I would have heard them.”

  She shook her head, looking sad and a little worried. “It scares me, you know? I don’t know what’s worse, a ghost, or somebody playing a mean joke. I put the flowers away in a closet, but that doesn’t make me feel safe.”

  There were more stories of a similar nature, of figures dimly seen in the elevator and hallways, of items being moved or played with when no one was around. It sounded like a haunting to Rainbow.

  Then it was her turn to go before the group. She was pleasantly surprised at how many of the women’s faces she recognized. Many of them had come to her at one time or another for a reading.

  She explained what she would do and repeated her stipulations about not being paid, and about her activities not being mentioned outside the group. She braced herself for the usual complaints that she was a fraud, and that what she did was all balderdash, but was surprised when no one objected.

  “What’s to object to?” asked one man finally. “It costs nothing, we won’t get any bad publicity out of it, and maybe it will help.”

  A murmur of agreement passed through the room.

  Ellis turned to her. “So when can you start?” he asked.

  “Tonight,” she decided on the spot. “I’ll start tonight.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Just the unit numbers where things have happened. I’ll wander around and get a feeling for the place, if that’s okay.”

  “How will we find out what you learn?” Olive asked.

  Rainbow hesitated. She hadn’t considered that.

  “Well, I guess I can write you letters about it as I go.”

  “That would be a good idea,” Ellis agreed. “I’ll copy them and put one in every mailbox.”

  “What about a seance?” Nellie asked.

  “Not unless I’m sure it’s necessary,” Rainbow answered with a smile. “If it is, I’ll let you all know so you can attend.”

  A half-hour later, reinforced with tea and cookies, and armed with a list of the places people had experienced problems, Rainbow set out to see what she could learn.

  Jake answered his door with heavy reluctance. It was nine-thirty in the evening, and he still hadn’t made full adjustment to the change of time zone. He was spending a lot of time feeling half-awake and out of sorts, and the sensation of being watched kept troubling him. Hell, he was even beginning to wonder if he should see a doctor about it.

  He’d spent most of the evening in his office, trying to organize an outline for his book. The packing boxes in the living room and bedroom remained untouched, but he’d felt a need to do something really productive. As long as his office was set up, he could deal with the rest of it a bit at a time.

  Like right now, he thought wearily, as he went to answer the door.

  He expected to see Nellie Blair or one of her elderly cohorts. Instead, he was surprised to see a beautiful young woman with eyes the color of tree moss and long, silky dark hair that made him think of Indonesia. Did this mean he wasn’t the only youthful resident in the building? He suddenly found himself hoping so.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  She smiled and offered her hand. “Mr. Carpenter, I’m Rainbow Moonglow.”

  “Excuse me?” It was as if she were speaking another language, and his fogged brain couldn’t sort out the words.

  “My name,” she repeated slowly, “is Rainbow Moonglow.”

  It was an impossible name—strange, unusual, totally incredible—and he was instantly enchanted. And also instantly leery.

  “Is that a stage name?” he asked, wondering if this lovely woman with the sweet, innocent face could be some kind of exotic dancer.

  She laughed as if she was used to the question. “No, I’m afraid not. It’s on my birth certificate.”

  “Oh.” He wished he could sweep the fog out of his head, because he had the definite impression that he was acting stupidly and responding as slowly as if his last alert brain cells were mired in molasses. “It’s a nice name,” he managed finally.

  “But one that takes some getting used to. Listen, I’m sorry to disturb you, but since you’re president of the condo association—”

  “I’m what?” he interrupted, as astonishment suddenly kicked a few dozen more brain cells into gear.

  Her smile widened. “I guess they haven’t told you yet. You were elected association president tonight.”

  “But I wasn’t even at the meeting!” He was begining to feel sandbagged—or as if he had stepped off the edge of reality into a strange world.

  “I know,” she said sympathetically.

  “How can they do that?” This was unbelievable. “Don’t I have anything to
say about it?”

  A little laugh escaped her, and her eyes danced merrily. “Well, they thought it would be easier to elect you when you weren’t here.”

  “Obviously.” He looked glumly at her. “Were you party to this?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t live here. No, my hands are clean on this one.”

  “Well, I’ll have to resign. I don’t know anything about this place.”

  “That might be an advantage,” she told him. “Besides, Mr. Carpenter, these are all elderly people. They really would appreciate your help.”

  “I’m not a charity organization.” He almost snapped the words, and as soon as he did, he wished he could snatch them back. Rainbow Moonglow looked as if she were somehow disappointed in him.

  “It wouldn’t hurt to try,” she said gently.

  Maybe not, he thought irritably. As long as this woman with the green doe eyes didn’t look at him that way again. And as soon as he had that thought, he became convinced that fatigue had made him stark staring mad. What did he care what some strange woman thought of him, even if she did have beautiful eyes? Beautiful strange eyes, he amended. Eyes that seemed to see right through to his soul. Another fanciful thought, and it made him even more irritable.

  “Is that what you came to tell me?” he asked. “That I’ve been sandbagged by a bunch of old coots?”

  The smile returned to her eyes and danced around her mouth. “Well, not exactly.”

  Someone down the hall opened a door and leaned out. “Could you please take your conversation inside?” asked an old woman. “I’m trying to sleep.”

  “Sorry,” Jake said automatically, thinking he’d like to be doing the same thing. Stepping aside, he motioned Rainbow into his apartment and closed the door.

  The place was a mess, he realized suddenly. Boxes were scattered everywhere, along with the towel he’d been using to mop his brow, and packing paper he still hadn’t gathered up. And of course, all the dust from nearly a year of being unoccupied.

  “You really haven’t unpacked,” Rainbow commented, as she took the chair he indicated. “One of the ladies downstairs said that was why you didn’t come to the meeting.”