Chapter One
Carolyn Sumner strode deliberately up the walk. She moved with purpose to the ancient and haunted house and raised her fist to knock on the door. Untouched by a human hand, the door swung open before her knuckles could make contact. “Tara! I need to use the basement!” Her announcement echoed in the entry way as she moved into the house.
Her paint splattered friend moved into her field of view, her head the only visible part of her in the hallway. “How long, Caro?”
“I have the running club in an hour, so thirty minutes of hard workout should do.”
“I will have tea ready when you are done.”
“Fantastic, see you soon.” Having Tara in the neighbourhood had been a godsend to Carolyn when her own conspicuous consumption of exercise equipment had begun to cause comment. Sixteen treadmills per year were a little above average for a single woman at home. Even if she had them replaced under warranty. Eventually, people stopped selling to her.
Tara, on the other hand, could purchase them under the guise of Williams Haunted House, and theoretically use them to power some of the special effects that her home was famous for. If only the public knew that the twice nightly performances of the haunted house were all Tara’s doing. That was her particular exercise for her telekinesis, floating objects toward and away from the squealing customers. It was win win. They got scared, and Tara got to be part of the community and use her talent in public.
“There you are my beauty.” The sleek lines of the treadmill were calling to her and, in mere seconds, she and the love of her life were reunited. She engaged in a light workout until she felt ready and the machine was warmed up, then she let go. Her legs pumped, feet pounded and the machine beneath her squeaked in protest. Regretfully, she slowed down. Sixty miles per hour was not something that the treadmill was designed to take.
“Well, this one isn’t smoking, so you must be using self control.” Tara had come downstairs and watched the end stages of her workout.
Caro caught the whiff of oil paint and smiled. “Have you been working on your masterpiece again?”
She was drying her hands on a towel. “No. Just some small pieces for a gallery in town. Fairy splats.”
“Oh. I like those, they’re cute.” Carolyn hadn’t even broken a sweat, her workout hadn’t even done much to warm her muscles up. Darn. She was going to have to hold back during the running club.
Tara laughed and threw a towel at Caro’s face. “Well, they sell well and that is what matters. I couldn’t keep you in treadmills if not for my modest art sales.”
“And I am grateful for your treadmills. They keep me from running through the woods and scaring the locals.”
“Sure. Like they could identify the streak of flesh colored human zipping through the shrubs. You are rather quick, you know.”
“I know. But I still worry about the freak factor.”
“Preaching to the choir. I know how you feel.” With not even a twitch of Tara’s eye, the towel on Caro’s head began to move and in seconds it was twirling through the air to snap her in the butt. Telekinesis at its most perverse.
“Tara. Sweetie. I love you, but towel snap me one more time and I am going to use my powers for evil. Shouldn’t you be painting right now?” The spot on her thigh stung where the towel had made contact. Revenge was now added to her to-do list.
“I am. I have completed one of the paintings since I came down to chat and started on the other. What have you been doing aside from running your mouth, slacker?” Tara ducked to avoid the towel that was no longer hovering, but now hurtling toward her out of her control. It was a mistake.
Caro lunged toward her buddy and made her move, a basic tickle attack that covered Tara from ribs to knees. “Kneel before me, insignificant one!” Her own laughter was hard to stifle and so they tumbled to the floor
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