Harbinger in the Mist (Arms of Serendipity) by Anabell Martin

I have no idea who was living here before us. All I know is that my mom doesn’t want to talk about it when I bring it up.”
    Lindsey heard her mom moving on the landing above.
    “Hey, don’t mention any of this to Mom, OK? It’s still sort of a sore spot.”
    “No problem. My dad and Aunt Sadie, that’s his older sister, are estranged, so I completely understand family drama.”
    Maddie finished her cyber conversation and slid her cell in the back pocket of her jean shorts.
    “Damn, damn, damn! I don’t want to drive in this weather.” Aimee loped down the stairs in a pair of sweats.
    “You’re going to work like that?”
    “I’m not going to wear my scrubs out in this weather! I’ve got them in my gym bag. I’ll change when I get to the hospital.”  She picked up her clogs and tossed them into the bag that she’d just dropped on the floor at the foot of the stairs. After she’d tied her sneakers and put on a baseball cap, she walked into the kitchen and kissed Lindsey on top of the head.
    “What have you girls got planned for this evening?”
    “Oh, the usual,” Lindsey rolled her eyes. “Drugs, boys, and booze.”
    Maddie wooted in the background.
    “Well, I suppose that’s fine as long as you stay off the roads,” Aimee teased back as she poured herself a bowl of cereal. (Even though it was after six in the evening, it was breakfast time for her.) Lindsey turned back to watch Maddie and to think about the odd events that happened here almost nightly. And the relief that someone else had experienced a Fred-ism. Now if only something would happen in front of Mom . She was so lost in thought that she barely noticed her mom holding a glass dish out to her.
    “No, thank you,” she muttered.
    “I’m not offering you anything, Lindsey. I want to know why you took fruit off of my cake. I made this for work and I know I told you that. There are strawberries in the fridge if you want them. You didn’t have to steal one of mine.”
    Lindsey looked down at the cake her mom had made the night before from a recipe she’d cut out of a magazine. It was a basic angel food cake, covered in whipped buttercream frosting, and decorated to look like the American flag with cut strawberries as stripes and plump, round blueberries in the upper left corner. A large berry slice was missing and the frosting smudged around in the very center of the cake.
    “Mom, I never touched it!”
    “Uh-huh. Let me guess, the ghost did it.”
    It was obvious that Aimee didn’t believe her. She took the plastic box of berries out of the fridge and jerked a knife from the dishwasher, all the while keeping eye contact with Lindsey. After she’d mended the cake and rewrapped it with plastic wrap, she grabbed her bag and headed to the front door.
    Now I’ve got to run, honey. Please, please, please don’t go anywhere tonight in this weather. If you need anything, call me.” And with that she slipped out of the door to head to another overnight shift at the hospital.
    Lindsey turned to where Maddie sat. “See! I never touched that cake. Why would I poke my finger in the middle of it like that? Something weird is going on in this house!”
    “You think a ghost ate a strawberry?”
    “No. I think a ghost is screwing with me!”
    “Well, we’re going to find out what’s going on as soon as Michelle gets her slow butt over here. Come on, let’s clean this up.”
    The girls put the abandoned game away and waited. Michelle banged on the front door a few moments later. Lindsey gazed worriedly at the puddles forming in the front yard as a nearly drowned Michelle sloshed in. She hoped the downpour would let up before her backyard officially became a part of the ACE Basin.
    Lindsey locked the door and the trio tromped up the stairs to her bedroom. Lindsey and Maddie flopped on the bed while Michelle towelled off and put on dry clothes from Lindsey’s closet. Once she was dry, Michelle pulled Lindsey’s hope chest out into the