Free Spirit Seeker by Joan Lowery Nixon Page B

the nearest chair.
    “Good heavens, Holly! What happened to your hair?”
    “I took out my barrette.”
    “You didn’t lose it, did you?”
    In answer I held out the barrette so Mom could see it. The amber glowed with a warm, soft light, and the silver filigree glittered in the light from Mom’s reading lamp.
    “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Mom said and smiled.
    “It’s gorgeous.” As I stared at it, I told myself,
It’s nothing more than a barrette. What am I afraid of?
Calmly I pulled back the tangle of hair that was hanging in front of my eyes and tucked it firmly into the barrette. “How’d you happen to buy it, Mom?” I asked, trying to make my question sound casual.
    “As a matter of fact,” Mom said, “I had planned to buy you a beautiful gold-colored sweater that would have really set off your red hair. For some reason, while I was waiting my turn for a saleswoman, I spotted a display of jewelry on a nearby counter. I have no idea what made me walk across the aisle to look at the jewelry, but when I saw that barrette … well, it almost jumped into my hand. I knew it would be perfect for you.”
    “It called to you,” I whispered, shaken again.
    “Well, I suppose if you want to be whimsical, you could say that.” She bent to her papers, then looked up again. “You do like the barrette, don’t you, Holly?”
    “I love it,” I answered. So-called mystical powers or not, I really, truly did.
    T
en minutes after I telephoned, Sara came over. After we were squirreled away in my bedroom, I really let it all out.
    Sara tried to comfort me. “In this country you’re innocent until proven guilty. I told my dad the same thing. It’s going to be okay, Holly.”
    “You’re saying that your dad thinks Cody did it?”
    “He’s just going by what’s on the TV news and in the papers.”
    “It’s not fair!” I punched at the bed pillow I was holding on my lap. “Reporters are making everyone think the wrong thing.”
    “They’re just giving the facts,” Sara said calmly, “and face it, Holly, the facts don’t look good. Cody left his house twice, the second time close to when the murder probably took place. He said he was going to stay at the lake house, but when the police looked for him there, they couldn’t find him.”
    “Cody told them why. He gave them perfectly good reasons.” I didn’t tell Sara that Cody had changed his story, and I hadn’t told her about his argument with his parents. I didn’t want to add anything that would make her question Cody’s innocence.
    I hugged the pillow to my chest and rested my chin on the edge. “Dad said in most family murders where there’s one member left alive, the police find that remaining member committed the murder. He’s prejudiced against Cody, just because of some dumb statistics.”
    “Don’t get mad at your dad. He’s a good detective. He’ll be fair.”
    I sighed. “Sara, I told Dad I was going to prove that Cody didn’t do it. I talked to some neighbors, and that didn’t help. Two of them said they didn’t see or hear anything. The third—are you ready for this?—said she was clairvoyant and saw the murders take place in her mind. It was really weird.” I shivered as I pictured Glenda’s face. When I was at her house, she had picked up my thoughts. What if she were tuning in to them now? I felt myself blush.
    Sara didn’t notice. She frowned. “If she’s a clairvoyant who really saw what happened, as sheclaims, she should be able to identify the murderer.”
    “She said she didn’t see that part.”
    “Then you’re right. She’s weird and a fake and just wants people to think she’s important. Or maybe she wants publicity.”
    I left it at that. The amber, and the strange things Glenda had said about its powers, seemed too bizarre to talk about with anyone, even Sara.
    “Why don’t you ask your dad to share his information with you?”
    “You mean like the medical examiner’s report and the crime