A Shimmer of Red

Book 3: Odessa Jones Mystery

by Valerie Wilson Wesley

Genres: Amateur Sleuth; Female Sleuths

Synopsis

With pandemic-fearing city dwellers fleeing to the New Jersey suburbs, Risko Realty—and Odessa Jones—are having their best year ever. Finally on solid financial footing, Odessa is debt-free and looking forward to the future. But she doesn't need second sight to sense her new young co-worker, Anna Lee, is on edge—and straight-up terrified—in spite of her hot sales record and sunny, outgoing attitude. And when Anna is killed in a hit-and-run, Odessa sees immediately that it was no accident . . .



It's soon clear that Anna was being stalked. But even with the help of family, friends—and Odessa's feisty cat, Juniper—Odessa is coming up with more questions than clues. Why was Anna avoiding influential real-estate mogul Emily Delbarton? Why is Delbarton's decidedly creepy brother so fixated on Anna? Did Anna make enemies through her previous job at the town's exclusive gentlemen's club? And can Odessa rule out her own ex-fiancé—who's back in her life with an astounding connection to Anna—and wanting a second chance? Finding the answers will come at an increasingly deadly cost—one Odessa's talents must somehow trap a killer to repay . . .

Release date: July 25, 2023

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 208

Sample

These were good times in very bad ones. Fear of the pandemic had sent folks scurrying to suburban towns like Grovesville searching for new places to live. Risko Realty, basking in the sun of seller greed and buyer desperation, was selling houses—spacious, modest, tacky, chic—faster than funnel cakes at a Jersey fair. I should have known no good could come of it. If nothing more, the burden of a “gift” I inherited from my mother’s people should have forewarned that things would change. But where was that sixth sense that warns that bad times are around the corner or bad folks are headed my way? Nowhere to be found. Even the glimmers weren’t glimmering.

Glimmers are the gift of my gift that allow me to see what is often called an aura. They are usually a certain color and may vary in shade. A deep reddish purple hints that someone’s spirt is in need of healing; a sweet baby pink says tender care should be forthcoming. Glimmers can be intense or hazy depending on how long and hard I stare, which can be awkward, and may change with a person’s circumstances or growth. Occasionally they can’t be seen or are hard to distinguish, which can be puzzling. Seeing glimmers is among my more predictable extrasensory skills, such as sensing things other people can’t. I know that all of this makes me unique, along with the occasional gray streak that can willfully appear on the left side of my head, but often it’s a burden. If I’m having trouble understanding any of this, I call my aunt Phoenix, my late mother’s older sister, who besides serving up the occasional NJ Pick-4 winner, texts me quotes from Maya Angelou or other bits of wisdom. My aunt is also a source on spells, charms, and the occasional hex. Yet all I received from my aunt during those halcyon days was this puzzling text of Egyptian origin:

I wasn’t sure if I was the rose or the monkey and didn’t care. I was living too high on the hog for it to matter. There was only one sign from the gift I would have heeded during those golden days of selling, and that was the smell of nutmeg. When I smell nutmeg, I know somebody is going to die. The scent can be overpowering or just a whiff, but however it comes, I stop in my tracks, close my eyes, wish that it would go away. Needless to say, I’ve lost my taste for eggnog, French toast, and bread pudding. But there was no trace of that dreadful spice, and for that I was grateful.

For the first time since my beloved Darryl’s sudden death, I was making good money, paying bills on time, even putting money aside for hard times if they ever came back. I bought a dual fuel range oven, new refrigerator, and air fryer, which I didn’t need. I upgraded Juniper, my plump little cat, to a pricey cat food blended to help him lose weight, supposedly. I’d even managed to pay back much of the money I owed Aunt Phoenix. I took great pride in that, but as the old saying goes, pride goeth before the fall.

I wasn’t the only one riding high at Risko Realty. Tanya Risko, who had inherited the business thanks to larceny, loathing, and luck, was feeling confident enough to expand “the firm,” as she called it, and convinced two young Realtors to leave their companies to join us. They both had made impressive sales, even for these high-selling days, and must not have known about Risko Realty’s history, which could kindly be called checkered. Problem was, Tanya was not known for being a wise judge of character. She’d lost two mean-spirted lovers and an abusive husband to foul play in the space of three years yet always landed lightly in her Manolo Blahniks. None of us were sure what to expect when Tanya called us into her office to meet our “new family members.”

Yet we had begun to think of ourselves as a family. Our relationship had been tempered by murder and suicide, and healed from trauma as families do—cautiously and fearfully. We were all single and lived alone, except Louella, who had her daughter, Erika, and fiancé, Red. Each of us had endured our own particular bout of sorrow. Me—with the loss of Darryl; Vinton losing Stuart, his lifelong love, to suicide; and Harley coping with his scars from Afghanistan. Despite occasional squabbling, we depended on each other’s grace and strength and knew more about each other’s weaknesses than we probably should. (Except for the glimmers. Family or not, I wasn’t quite ready to share all that!) So we were fearful of disrupting our hard-earned family dynamic when we entered Tanya’s office.

Two young women sat stiff and uncomfortable in the cushiony chairs alongside Tanya’s desk. Either from respect, discomfort, or nausea from Tanya’s honeysuckle candle, they quickly stood when they were introduced.

“Come in, everyone; come right in! I am so pleased to introduce you all to Anna Lee and Bella Mondavi! Anna, show them your pretty smile! Bella Mondavi, lift that head! You are one of the best young Realtors in the county,” Tanya said in the overblown style of a mother hen fused with a carnival barker. “Congratulations! You have left your old, tired firm to join our dear, sweet little family!” Tanya was dressed for the occasion in a chic black Chanel suit, a sharp contrast to the bright colors in which she had recently decorated her office; her décor tended to reflect her moods. It had gone from spotlessly white after her husband’s murder to girlish paisley prints whenever she fell in love to these vivid shades of orange and yellow. I wondered if the colors were an indication of her glimmer, which I’d glimpsed only once in a vulnerable moment. Tanya Risko was a woman with secrets rarely revealed.

“Welcome to our sweet little family!” said Vinton Laverne, playfully mocking Tanya but playing it off with an innocent smile. “So you both come from the same place?”

“We worked at, uh, Delbarton Estates,” said Anna, still smiling and stumbling over the name of her former employer.

“Delbarton Estates? That’s the hottest real estate firm in the state!” Vinton whistled long and low emphasizing that point. “Why on earth did you two leave Delbarton?”

“I, uh, had to get out fast. I needed a change,” Anna muttered more to herself than to us.

“You’re in for a big one here. How about you?” Vincent turned his attention to Bella.

“I needed a change, too. Sometimes you’ve got to go in a new direction, challenge yourself.”

“Well, you’re in for a challenge. Hope you don’t regret it!” Vinton always said what was on his mind, occasionally revealing more about himself than was wise. It was one of the things I loved about him. He was the oldest among us, quick with quips, which could bite but were less nasty than they’d been when we met. He’d had a sorrowful gray glimmer then, reflected even in the dull, unfashionable suits he wore. But he had changed, wardrobe as well as glimmer. Everything about him these days was younger, trendy, and his glimmer was a pale pleasant blue. “You ladies are coming from some big firms! You two look like schoolgirls. Hard to believe you’re old enough to understand a lockbox, say nothing of changing interest rates.”

“I’m smarter and older than I look,” Anna said, with a hint of attitude that said she was not to be put down. She had a chubby baby face with a receding chin that brought to mind a cute chipmunk until you were drawn to her light brown eyes and flawless chestnut skin. Her hair was chic, short, and bounced coquettishly when she moved her head, which was often. I was struck by her glimmer, a lovely pink shade caught between hot and soft, which made me wonder if she had trouble making up her mind. She was casually dressed with a stylish flare meant to flatter a body that folks of a certain age called pleasingly plump. “I’m just so happy to be here,” she added, in a kinder, fluttering voice that reeked sincerity.

“I’ll bet you are, smarter than you look. I’m glad you’re here, too,” said Harley Wilde with a flirtatious touch that brought a raised eyebrow from Vinton. Anna returned a quick engaging smile saying she wasn’t offended and was old enough to know it was meant as a compliment, which made Harley drop his eyes slightly in what looked like a blush.

“Well, well, so what do we have here?” said Vinton with a touch of mischief, earning a glance of warning from me. Harley and Anna both ignored him.

Harley Wilde was one of two friends I made when I came to Risko. The other friendship had ended tragically and was still painful to remember. Harley and I shared a mutual love—and craving—for late-morning lattes, which united us from the first, and he never forgot to bring me one when he showed up for work, usually at noon. I’d grown to think of him as the kid brother I always wanted and never had.

I often wondered what Darryl would make of him. Darryl had a special affection for those who had known tough times, like the special needs kids he worked with and the troubled teens he counseled into manhood. He’d understand Harley’s vulnerability hidden within that swagger for protection as well as defense, and would take him into his heart, as everyone did who knew him. Harley and I had been through several misadventures that once lived through were rarely discussed again. I knew him well enough to tell when he was scared, happy, or angry, and that he was not shy around women; he’d charmed my two no-nonsense aunts on first meeting. He didn’t blush easily.

“I’m glad to be here, too,” said Bella Mondavi, unwilling to be left out of the conversation. I could tell she was shy, unsure of herself, which always endears people to me. She was shorter than Anna and petite. Her long blond hair piled in a tight bun and blue eyes gave her a pretty doll-like quality in contrast to her glimmer, which was dark, solemn, and brought to mind the one that had once hung over Vinton. Vinton must have sensed it, too. He reached out for her hand as if to reassure her.

“You’re welcomed here, too, sweetheart. You remind me of that little porcelain doll I wanted when I was a kid. You won’t break if I give you a hug, will you?” he said, awkwardly reaching out for her.

Stunned, like the rest of us, Bella froze and drew back. But she sized him up in a moment and must have decided he was harmless and not much of a threat. Reluctantly, she gave him a self-conscious hug. I knew that in his own dated way, Vinton was trying to make Bella feel welcomed, but the porcelain doll crack, as sexist as it was racist, was from a different era.

“You’ve got to forgive Vinton. He just stepped off the Mad Men set, a wannabe Don Draper,” said Harley, attempting to save the situation.

“Guess I got my decades messed up,” Vinton muttered, realizing how he must have sounded. “Best to take my Geritol.”

“And now you’ve added ageism to your sins,” I said, peering at him as if he were a naughty child.

“Best to keep my mouth shut,” he said after a minute. “Please forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive. I’ve heard worse. Much worse!” Bella said with the careless shrug of a good sport and an expression that said she had.

“By the way, I’m Dessa,” I said, trying to lessen the tension that still filled the room.

“And I’m Harley Wilde,” Harley said. “But I’m really not very wild at all.” It was an attempt at coyness that ended up being corny and made things worse. Anna gave him a begrudging half smile and a playful roll of her eyes.

Tanya took over from there. “Well, now that everyone knows everybody it’s time to get back to work. In our beautiful newly remodeled office space!” she couldn’t resist adding. Our tiny cubicles, which we’d managed to get used to, had been separated and spaced in the interest of keeping us healthy. In the interests of saving money, not wasting paint, and making sure nobody dozed off, our cubicles were now the same vibrant colors as her office. “Okay, everybody. We all need to get back to work.”

“Ah, the royal we,” muttered Vinton. Tanya did very little work.

I glanced at Louella, who stood near the back of the room and had said nothing during the introductions. More than anyone else, she’d had a long journey back to normalcy. I suspected she wasn’t quite ready to welcome new people into this family she claimed and accepted as her own. I felt a twinge as I caught a glimpse of her old, sad glimmer, which had brought tears whenever I saw her. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and I hoped it would stay gone. The three women were all the same age; Louella was a solitary being in need of a friend her own age. I was more older sister than confidante, and although Tanya’s and Louella’s lives intertwined in the past, Tanya had made it clear she wasn’t interested in maintaining or nurturing female connections.

I caught up with Anna and Bella as we were leaving the office.

“It’s hard being the new person, but believe we all were once. You two are going to be just fine here,” I said as cheerfully as I could. “We’re not quite a family, but we’re close. Once you settle in, you’ll find we all have a lot in common.” I hoped for Louella’s sake that they did. They both nodded, noncommittally.

“Sparks were sure flying between your boy Harley and the cute new kid,” Vincent said as soon as he could get me alone. “Let’s hope they don’t turn into fire. An office romance is never a good thing. I speak from experience, in case you don’t remember,” he said, but of course I did. His love had worked here, too, and died here as well. “This place does have a way of taking the life out of you,” he added.

A shudder went through me, worrisome because I wasn’t sure what had caused it.

“Everything is going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine,” I said twice, like a robot, reassuring myself.

And everything was fine—for a while. Anna and Bella became fast friends despite their differences. Anna had a boisterous laugh that drew everybody into it. Bella’s cucumber-cool demeanor forced you to fight for her attention. She grew up in a once-upon-a-time sundown town in South Jersey that would never welcome Anna. Anna came of age in a rough-and-tumble nearby city that would never welcome Bella. But that didn’t matter to either of them. Even with the space between our cubicles, we could hear them talking and laughing like the schoolgirls Vinton had assumed they were. There was always some new Mexican or Thai restaurant to discover during lunch or some Netflix series they gossiped about in the morning. They shared selling tips about properties coming on the market and how best to sell them, and both had that touch that marks the best real estate agents—a mix of compassion, empathy, and serious salesmanship—I sorely lack. They could sell igloos in Costa Rico or thatched huts in Alaska, and racked up more spectacular deals than anybody else at Risko Realty, even outselling Vinton, who had always been the champion. Despite that competitive edginess that marks the real estate business, nobody envied their sales, and we cheered them on with every new win. Except Louella, who seemed to have drifted into herself.

Vinton was right about Harley and Anna, and when she wasn’t hanging out with Bella they were heading somewhere together. Although they tried to hide their blossoming relationship from the rest of us, April was a blink away, and for anyone who had ever fallen in love the signs were unmistakable. Their high spirits and simple joy in each other’s company was unmistakable, along with the crocuses and daffodils that were popping up everywhere. Springtime was filling a workplace badly in need of ridding itself of the seasonal doom that had darkened its doors.

So when Tanya called me into her office to say that Emily Delbarton, the CEO of Delbarton Estates, wanted me to cater her broker’s open h. . .