I have to admit that I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of psychic mediums. Might there be people who have a way of knowing things the rest of us cannot know? Do some people possess an intuition about people who have passed away? Is there a way for people who have died to communicate with us? It is my belief that loved ones who have passed away are around us. I have written before about how I sometimes can sense that my father-in-law is watching over my family. It is comforting knowing we have guardian angels around us and I have never felt the need to seek out a psychic to tell me that this belief is true. When Bridget suggested we talk to Moira Reed, a woman who is an intuitive healer, I told her I would be open to the idea, not so much for a reading for my loved ones, but to see if she could give us clues that could possibly help with Cheryll’s case.

Bridget called to make an appointment with Moira and we chose an important date–October 19, 2018–though she didn’t tell Moira that the date was significant. When Bridget made the appointment, she said only that she and a friend were looking into a cold case and wanted to see if it might be possible to get a read on anything. Moira said she was intrigued and would be willing to see if she could help.

A couple of notes before I move on. We covered a lot of material during our time with Moira so I am dividing the experience into two blog entries so that I can thoroughly recount what she told us. Next, Moira does not promote herself as a psychic. She explained that she sort of meditates and then relays what she senses or what she sees, but does not necessarily claim to be psychic. She operates more on intuition. (When talking about our experience, Bridget and I tell people we went to a psychic and we even call her a psychic because that’s the word people are more familiar with and it’s easier to say than “the intuitive.”) And last, we discovered that when Moira was sensing information, she talked in part question and part statement style. Sometimes she asked questions out loud but it was as if she were asking spirit or talking to herself about what she was sensing and was not necessarily talking to Bridget and me.

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Moira

I had no idea what to expect when we climbed the stairs to Moira’s studio office. But I was impressed with the surroundings in which I soon found myself. The one-room studio was very nice with a soft-colored paint, pretty decorations, and comfortable chairs– it was all quite posh. I guess I hadn’t really envisioned what an intuitive would look like but this woman was very well put together, relaxed, a naturally engaging person, and very much looked like a yoga instructor. After we finished our introductions, we got to work.

Moira invited Bridget and me to sit down at a small, but comfortable rectangular table. We sat on one side while she sat on the other. The lighting in the cozy room was soft. Daylight was gently streaming in from behind the blinds hanging over a sliding glass door positioned behind Moira. The smell of sage was in the air. We opened our notebooks and had our pens ready to jot down whatever information might be shared and I also used a device to record the session so we could listen again later. To start, I told her we were working to learn as much as we could about an unsolved murder case– that I was not related to the victim, and that I was not a cop, but “investigating” this case was something that we had felt compelled to do. Moira asked me the victim’s name and I told her– a girl named “Cheryll.” She explained that she holds smooth rocks in her hands to help her concentrate and that she would be closing her eyes. As we watched her do that, Bridget and I looked at each other with nervous anticipation. I sat upright in my chair, pen in hand.

The room was very quiet and after a moment or two of sitting quietly, Moira began. “Was she stabbed? A lot?” We answered, yes. She continued. “She left her body and saw it happening, but she was not in pain. She was very scared, and they, the spirit angels, helped her leave, get out of her body, quickly.” I cannot put into words the feeling that came over me. It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It felt like a surge of energy was running from Moira to me and to Bridget. I knew Bridget was feeling it too because when I looked at her her eyes were saying, “This is amazing.” Moira continued. “I am seeing her. They grabbed her around her mouth. They took her. Did they take her somewhere?” We both again replied, “yes.” Moira asked these questions but did so in a way that made us feel like she already knew the answers. “Where was she? Was she outside? Was it dark?” Again, we said yes as Moira described feeling physically ill.

She continued, relaying information rapidly. “I AM feeling like there were two. They put her in a car? And then stabbed her? They kidnapped her basically. And took her. I’m seeing the car. I’m feeling like it’s one person who did it, but a different one driving the car. I’m feeling like one black, one white. And there’s something with her shoe. I don’t know if it’s how they got her in the car. I don’t know if when they went up to her if she lost a shoe or if she was bending over and they grabbed her. I don’t know, but there is something about a shoe, getting in the car. It’s like she’s bending down to tie her shoe or something and that’s when they get her in the car. And then I see her in the car and then I see a field, not a corn field, but I’m seeing brown. I’m not seeing anything green if that makes sense. And I see trees.” The terrain of New Hope Road was not a field, but it was outside and it was brown because it was late October, early November and of course, it had a lot of trees.

Already we had questions. I asked. “Did she know them? Would they have been familiar to her?” Moira said, “I’m getting a ‘no’. She’s saying, ‘no.'”

I had more questions. “Did anybody hear her?” Moira answered, “I feel like where they grabbed her was a curb, well I’m seeing a car on a street. I’m seeing her out on a street. So I would imagine people could have heard her. I feel like someone heard her but it was easily dismissed.” Knowing that Cheryll WAS potentially out on the street that morning, I was rattled for a moment, struggling to think of what my next question would be. Sensing this, Bridget was quick on her feet and asked the next questions.

“Do you know what color the car was? Or, what kind?” Moira answered, “I am seeing like an old—and I do not know my cars—but I’m seeing an old, long car. Like a boxy, square car with hood fabric. Not a convertible. Now I’m getting like a brown color though. There was a car waiting on the street for her. Cheryll didn’t recognize the car, though.” There has been some discussion about a truck seen in the area that morning, but nothing about this type of car. Could this be unrelated or a whole new clue?

I started talking again. “There is some speculation about a neighbor.” Moira interrupted, “Was it a woman?” I answered, “No, a man.” And she responded, “I’m seeing a woman looking out her window. I feel like there was a woman who saw something.” “Did she know the woman?” Bridget asked. Moira explained, “If she did, it was like as a neighbor. It isn’t like she (Cheryll) knew who she (the neighbor) was. And I’m getting that that woman never said anything or would ever say anything.” Moira continued. “That neighbor man who is suspected… Is he white?” We answered with a yes. “I don’t feel like it’s him but I feel like he saw something too. The neighbor was creepy and had issues, but I’m not sure he was connected.” Were we all talking about the man on the porch? It seemed clear to me that Moira was not honing in on him as being involved in Cheryll’s murder.

“I’m still seeing that woman standing and looking out that window.” Moira said again. Who might Moira be describing? Not knowing what to do with that information, we moved on.

“Is there a motive?” Bridget inquired. Moira asked and answered, “Was she sexually assaulted? Yeah. I’m not getting a motive. I feel like they just….did this.”

“Is there still some type of evidence that exists that we don’t yet know about? What about the shoe? What about her clothes? Might there be something we haven’t discovered?” I asked, hoping for a clue as to what evidence we need to explore more. Moira answered, “I am seeing her hair. I feel like they scratched her head. What about nail clippings? Otherwise I’m not getting anything. What about her clothes? The clothes are gone. I’m getting a shoe again and a sock. I’m getting a shoe that tied. I’m seeing a white sock that you fold over. A saddle shoe. I’m sensing that the police have her fingernails and another item that may contain DNA, but they don’t have the knife and they don’t have her clothes.” Clearly, Moira was correct about Cheryll’s clothes. And what to make of Cheryll’s shoe? Moira mentioned this literally about ten different times during our session with her. Still now, Cheryll’s clothing, including her shoes, have never been found. Could there be a shoe out there? A momento that the killer kept? Is the shoe hidden away somewhere? As the reading went on, Moira said that she felt we WOULD eventually find the shoe. How are we going to find it? A 47-year-old shoe. Maybe someone reading this will remember a random shoe found tucked away in a place it shouldn’t have been–outside on Rose Avenue, on a country road, in the backseat of a car, or in a crawlspace of a relative’s house.

More from our time with Moira, in blog post #11…..