HOLY SMOKE (An Andi Comstock Supernatural Mystery, Book 1) Read online

  Andi had thought and thought how this conversation would go. She had tried to anticipate his questions, and what her responses would be, but she could never get past that first sticky inquiry. She gripped the cup like it was a lifeline and looked directly into his eyes. “This is a little awkward, Father, but I’ll try to give it to you in a nutshell. I work a block from here, at a company called Orion’s Belt. I started there on May thirtieth.” She glanced down, looking for courage in the depths of the cream-and-sugared coffee.

  Finding none, she forged on anyway. “From the first day, I’ve smelled smoke in the building, but no one else can. Each time I smell it, I hear someone talking to me in my head. Every voice says something different. At first, I couldn’t make heads or tails of who they might be, and while I still don’t know, I at least recognize gender and I can tell if it’s a child or an adult now.” She gnawed nervously on her bottom lip.

  Father Riley sat frozen, his own cup halfway to his mouth, staring at her.

  “Please don’t look at me as though I’m crazy,” she pleaded. “I’m not!”

  His cup went back to the desktop. “One of those voices told you to come and talk to me?”

  She nodded. “A couple of weeks ago.”

  He raised his black eyebrows at her.

  Andi got his unspoken question. Her emotions churned to the surface. “Put yourself in my place, Father. If you started hearing voices in your head, would you immediately run and talk to someone about it?”

  He picked up his cup again and took a long sip. “No. No, I suppose not.” He drank again, staring at her over the rim of his cup. The friendly twinkle was absent. “What exactly did this voice say?”

  She leaned closer. “It was so strange. I smelled the smoke and was wondering for maybe the zillionth time if I should find someone to talk to about it, or maybe see a doctor to find out if I have a brain tumor or something.”

  He remained silent, but his eyebrows seemed to climb even higher.

  “Clear as a bell, I heard, ‘You should talk to Father Riley at St. Gemma’s, Andi. He is a man of God and a believer in the afterlife. He will not laugh at you nor will he disparage you.’”

  The priest had a little episode with a sip of coffee. He put down his cup and it made a slight rattling sound against the top of the desk.

  “I had never answered one of the voices before, but I responded about being Catholic and not having been to church in a long time.”

  “Did the, uh, voice in your head answer you?”

  “Yes. She said, ‘Belief in God does not require attendance in a house of worship, Andi. Father Riley is a fair and open thinker. Talk to him.’”

  Father Riley placed his hands flat against the desk, his gaze unwavering. “Those are the exact words?”

  “Yes. I write game app software and I have an excellent memory. Photographic recall, actually, which comes in handy on the job.” And apparently for my new sideline vocation, she added silently. “I will never forget what that voice said to me.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you?” she asked hopefully.

  “Well, perhaps not completely. Is there more?”

  Andi drew a deep breath, expelling it as a weary sigh. “Yes.” She looked down at her cup, surprised to find it half empty, then back at him. “On Friday, I smelled the smoke twice. Once in the morning and once after lunch.” She set her cup on the coaster and reached into her pocket. She withdrew a folded piece of paper. “I made a copy for you of what the voice said both times. I don’t know why, but this is extremely important, Father. No voice has ever spoken to me more than once, and this one came to me twice in one day.”

  She unfolded the paper and read: “‘This is not the way it’s supposed to happen, Andi. I thought I would live a long life, accomplish many things, be around to meet my grandchildren. Something happened. Something’s not right.’”

  She glanced at the priest to gauge his reaction. He remained silent, neither credulous nor incredulous. “In the afternoon, she said, ‘This is not the way it’s supposed to happen, Andi. Not the way at all. I need to figure this out. I need to know what to do now.’”

  Father Riley pushed his cup aside and reached across the desk for the paper.

  Andi relinquished it. She picked up her coffee cup again and waited quietly while he read and reread the words. When he finally looked up at her, she said, “I have a feeling that when I go back to work tomorrow, I’ll be hearing from this voice again, Father. I’m not scared, exactly, but…well, I’m confused. I don’t know how to help her.”

  “I’m not surprised,” the priest said. “This is all quite startling. You say you work a block from here?”

  “Yes, a block south and on the opposite side of the street, on the corner.”

  “Do you think your employer would find it odd if I paid a visit to you tomorrow?”

  That was a question Andi definitely had not expected. “I don’t think my boss would mind, but if you do come by, please don’t mention the smoke. I asked a lot of people when I first started working there where it was coming from and none of them could smell it. After a while, I stopped asking.”

  “Odd.”

  “Yes.”

  “And interesting.” He studied her thoughtfully. “What if I walk over around ten and come into your office to collect you, with the excuse that we’re going for coffee? I’d like to smell for myself.”

  “I think that would work okay. The receptionist is just inside the front door. She’ll buzz me and I’ll come down and get you.

  “Good, good. We’ll take a spin around the block, see if anything in the neighborhood could be causing this.”

  Andi felt almost faint with relief. “Thank you for not thinking I’m some whackadoodle nut job.”

  He smiled at her, his eyes lit with amusement. “I am not in the business of proving or disproving a person’s sanity.”

  Andi tilted her head at him. “Thank you. I think.”

  He laughed.

  She finished her coffee and placed the cup back on the coaster. “I knew once I made up my mind to finally meet you that everything was going to be okay.”

  He polished off his own coffee. “Those voices you hear may be nothing more than your guardian angel talking to you, Andi. On the other hand, something else entirely may be going on. However, one thing I know for certain is that you are no nut job.”

  Andi dropped her head into her hands and heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

  “You’ve got that right,” he said, then heaved a big sigh of his own and said with reverence, if not downright awe, “Holy smoke.”

  Andi raised her head. “I hadn’t thought of it quite like that, Father, but I suppose you could be right.”

  CHAPTER 4

  The priest arrived at Orion’s Belt promptly at 10:00 a.m.

  Andi went downstairs to greet him. “Good morning, Father Riley. Thank you for coming.”

  He grinned at her. “Good morning.”

  As they took the stairs up to the second floor, he asked, “Any smoke this morning?”

  His tone was so expectant, he might as well have been rubbing his hands together with childish anticipation. With no one else in the stairwell to overhear, Andi said, “From the moment I arrived.” She stopped midstep. “It’s different this time, though. Not so…so heavy, I guess, but there nonetheless.”

  The priest also came to a halt. “And was there a voice?”

  “Yes. This time she said, ‘This is not the way it’s supposed to happen, Andi. It’s so wrong. So very wrong. It wasn’t my time to be here, but I still don’t know what to do about it. What can I do about it?’ And then she was gone.” Andi snapped her fingers. “Poof, just like that, but the smell of smoke remained. There, but not…prevalent. Kind of…residual. Does that make sense?”

  He shrugged and continued up the stairs with Andi beside him. “As much sense as anything that may be esoteric or metaphysical, or even—and I almost hesitate to say this—supernatural
can make sense.”

  They reached the landing. Andi put her hand on the door pull but didn’t open it. “You really do believe that I’m not just imagining the voices I hear.”

  “Of course.” He smiled. “There is much on this Earth that is inexplicable.”

  On that note of confidence, Andi opened the door and let Father Riley precede her into common area feeding into various offices. She walked straight ahead. “This one is mine.”

  He followed her inside, taking in the small space with a sweeping glance. “Not a great view,” he observed, looking at the cinderblock wall not six feet away from her windows.”

  “But not bad,” she said. “I have that little tree out there and daylight, and the squirrels running back and forth across the top are entertaining.”

  Father Riley chuckled. “I can see you are a glass-half-full kind of girl.”

  Andi lifted shoulder. “It doesn’t do any good to be half-empty.”

  “Right you are, my dear.” His gaze came back to her. “Do you smell the smoke now?”

  “Yes, but it’s stronger….” She trailed off, cocking her head to the side, listening.

  It’s so fitting that my time came during the part of the year I love best, Andi. Have you noticed the bird nest in your tree?

  Father Riley watched her.

  Andi repeated what she’d heard.

  “So the smoke smell increased?”

  She nodded, disappointed. “You don’t smell it?”

  “No.” He sniffed twice. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t.”

  “Darn,” Andi said.

  “And this was a different voice than spoke to you before?”

  Again she nodded.

  “Interesting.”

  Still troubled by the one repetitive-voice phenomenon, Andi said, “Would you like a quick tour of the building before we walk around outside?”

  “Yes.” Several minutes later, nearing the end of the hall toward the back stairs that would take them down a level, he said, “You know, I believe one of my parishioners works here. I just—”

  “Father Riley! What are you doing here?” Brent called as they passed by his office.

  The twosome backed up and met Brent at his door.

  “Andi and I are going for a cup of coffee. She’s thinking of joining St. Gemma’s, so I thought I’d give her a sales pitch.”

  Andi heaved an internal sigh of relief. She couldn’t believe how fast Father Riley had come up with a red herring. She wondered if he’d have to report it in the confessional.

  Brent chuckled. “You can’t go wrong with St. Gemma’s.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Andi replied. She glanced at her watch. “We’d better get going, or my twenty minutes will be up.”

  Brent held out his hand to the priest. “Good to see you. Sorry we missed yesterday. Took the kids up to see the grandparents for the weekend and went to church up there.”

  Father Riley took his hand. “Spending time with family is important. See you next Sunday then.”

  Andi and the priest finished the first floor tour, then went outside. She walked the building perimeter, pointing out the gates to him.

  “What about the rooftop?” Father Riley asked. “It may have a facade. Someone may be squatting up there.”

  “I thought about that,” Andi said. “I’ve been to every office on the second floor and there’s no attic or rooftop access. The only way to get up there is with a ladder, a cherry picker, or a crane. Unless you’re Spiderman.”

  Father Riley put his hands on his hips, staring skyward. “Do you smell smoke right now?”

  “Just that faint scent that’s been around me since I got here this morning.”

  He shook his head, squinting his eyes, as if by doing so, he’d glean the secret of the smoke.

  “Shall we go get that coffee?” Andi asked.

  They went around to the west side of the building and down the block. Kitty-corner from the church sat a little mom-and-pop grocery and next to that was a small coffee bistro called Java Josie’s.

  “They have great pastries here,” the priest said, “and I have a terrible sweet tooth. Please forgive me in advance if I made a pig of myself.”

  Andi spoke before she thought. “As long as you don’t snort.” In the moment before the priest bellowed a laugh, she felt her face heat about a hundred degrees.

  “Before you think of apologizing, don’t. If there’s one thing I appreciate in a person, it’s a sense of humor.”

  Remaining silent seemed the better road to travel. Andi managed to give her order, then Father Riley gave his and pulled out his wallet. She said, “My treat this time. Please.”

  “Thank you. Next time, it’s on me.”

  They took their coffees and food outside and settled in at the last available table situated at the edge of the patio. Andi gave herself a mental kick. She wanted to show him the journal, but it was in her purse, in her desk.

  Father Riley dug into his giant cinnamon roll, chewed and swallowed, then snorted.

  Andi laughed and leaned back in her chair cradling her coffee cup. The patio was a nice surprise. It would be a great place to escape to for what was left of the summer, when she needed a short break from work. Her gaze travelled over the nicely landscaped parking lot that took up about an eighth of the north side of the block. A little further on stood a pristine one-story building, wood-sided with brick trim. It was a sedate-looking structure, but with an air of class and distinction about it.

  What an odd thought. She asked, “What kind of offices are in that building?” She pointed with the paper cup in her hand.

  Father Riley put a napkin to his lips as he glanced in the direction she indicated. “Not offices,” he said. “It’s a mortuary. You can’t see the sign on the corner from here, or the one above the door because of the overhang from the tree, but it’s called Chapel of the Garden. They have a lovely garden courtyard, so when the weather is nice, they hold services there, and when the weather is bad, they have the option of using their indoor chapel.”

  “I had no idea,” Andi said. “When I go out for walks, I generally go in the opposite direction, more toward downtown. I like to window shop.” She studied the building, frowning. “I had no idea that was a mortuary.”

  Father Riley said, “I wonder….”

  “Wonder what?”

  “They have a crematorium there. These days, with the high costs of funerals, more people are choosing a less expensive option to lay themselves and their loved ones to rest.”

  Andi turned wide eyes on him. “A crematorium? They incinerate people there?”

  His lips quirked slightly. “I think they prefer to use the term ‘cremate.’”

  “When things get burned, there’s smoke.”

  He nodded toward the west end of the building, just across the alley from where she worked. “There’s a chimney.”

  Her gaze followed his. “Have you ever smelled smoke from it?”

  “No, I can’t say that I have.”

  “Do you think…is it possible…?”

  “Anything is possible, Andi.”

  As if to confirm his rather profound statement, the scent of smoke swelled and several moments later, a voice said, I thought this time would never come, Andi. I had pain for so long, fought it with everything I had, but this…. Oh, my, it’s so beautiful, just as I knew it would be. Please tell Father Riley that Helen Stayton said “hello,” will you?

  Andi didn’t know how long Father Riley had been trying to get her attention, but finally she felt his hand gently, supportively covering hers.

  “Tell me,” he urged.

  “Helen Stayton says hello,” she said simply, surprised that she’d been given a message to pass along.

  The priest stared at her with shock on his face, then released her hand and crossed himself.

  “I take it you did know her,” Andi said, her tone dry.

  “Yes, we had her service on Saturday, and she was scheduled to be cre
mated today.” He shook his head in wonder. “Truthfully, even though I mentioned it, I never considered….”

  They both looked toward the chimney, but no smoke rose from it.

  “Did she say anything else?”

  “She said she had pain for a long time and fought it. She was glad her time had finally come and said the place where she is now is beautiful.”

  Father Riley’s hand trembled as he reached for his cup.

  Andi?

  Andi tilted her head, listening.

  This is not the way it’s supposed to happen, Andi. You must help me. This is not my time. I was not meant to see the light yet. When I get this figured out, then I can go, but you must help me. You will help me, won’t you, Andi?

  Andi nearly spilled her own coffee trying to set it back on the table.

  Father Riley leaned forward, an expression of concern on his face. “What is it?” he whispered.

  “The other voice,” Andi said, whispering back. “The one I’ve heard before. She says it’s not her time, that she can’t go until she ‘figures it out.’ She wants me to help her.” She looked at the priest feeling, for the first time, both overwhelmed and afraid. “How can I possibly help a person who’s died? What does she mean?”

  Father Riley looked around. Most the of the other patrons had left, so he spoke in a normal tone of voice again. “She must have been wronged in some way.”

  “She’s made reference to figuring things out before,” Andi said, unable to keep her rising panic at bay, “but I don’t see how I can help her!”

  “Don’t be afraid, Andi. I’ll help you however I can. In the meantime, write down everything she’s said to you so far. Keep a log—it may be helpful later.”

  Andi nodded. “I have been, but I came away with only my wallet. My notebook is in my purse.”

  Father Riley pulled a napkin out of the holder and handed her a pen. Andi quickly jotted down both commentaries. She handed back his pen and took a deep breath. “Thank you for standing by me on this, Father. I don’t know if I could face it alone.”

  “I’m convinced you can face anything Andi Comstock. Don’t underestimate yourself, and don’t count yourself short of a friend, either.”