“I know.” I looked at the picture of her parents propped on her desk. I’d never told her that I had known her parents would die. I hadn’t known how, or even exactly when, I just knew they would never see Diana’s success. It’s the kind of thing my “gift” lets me see, the tragedies and catastrophes.
“Anyway, it was pretty exciting because Sara did have someone come through who had quite a bit to say.”
Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen.
“That’s my essential oils distributor. The last shipment came with half the vials broken. What a mess. Hang on.” She flipped open the phone and held up one finger to me.
I listened to what didn’t sound like good news.
“I’m sorry, Clyde. I have to go to the post office and file a damage report before they’ll send another shipment. I guess I’ll be looking for another source soon.” She stood to gather her purse and keys.
“About the séance?”
“Oh, I’ll tell you about it later. It’s way too interesting to describe in three seconds. I’ll call you.”
I followed her out of the office to find Seth trying on robes by a mirror in the back. I watched as Diana turned the store over to her staff and rushed out the door with my only hope of moving ahead on this case.
*
I was in my room later that afternoon, surfing the Internet and reading Sara’s blog for clues. She had a nice section about developing psychic talent, séances, and tarot cards. I had just begun scrolling through the comments section when I heard a car barreling down the driveway. Seth was out back with the dogs, and my mother and Violet were with clients. I jumped up to look out the window in time to catch a glimpse of Tish’s white Tahoe pulling up outside.
I ran down the stairs to stop her from knocking on the door. We have the bell disabled so Vi’s clients won’t be disturbed and feel the need to bark and protect the house from visitors during their sessions, but Tish always “forgets” and begins pounding on the door seconds after trying the bell. I got there just as she was winding up for her assault.
“Tish, hi,” I said through great gulps of air.
“Hi, honey. What’s the matter with you? Are you having an episode?”
I had been known in my youth to have daytime visions of unpleasant events that left me breathless and exhausted, but I had found ways to avoid the visions, and Tish knew that.
“No, I ran down the stairs when I saw your car.”
“Baxter’s giving you such a hard time you have to race down the stairs to greet me?” Her laugh was a deep rumble. It always made me smile.
“No, he’s been fine. He likes Seth,” I said, standing aside to let her in.
Tish was the kind of person who filled a room, no matter its size. She liked to call herself a large medium. Everything about her was just a little bigger than it needed to be, except for her height. Her hair had been brutally teased. It stood out from her head, adding several inches to her five-foot frame. It was long and usually a blonde of one shade or another, depending on her mood. None of her clothes were the right size for her, and they swung to both extremes. In her daily life, she wore everything two sizes too small. This added an aspect of suspense: I constantly waited for her buttons to fly off or her zipper to give up its valiant effort. While working, she chose large, drapey fabrics seemingly worn right off the bolt. Today was a tight-clothes day. “Where is the big lug, anyway?” she asked, walking toward my mother’s office.
I stepped in front of her and gestured for her to follow me toward the back of the house.
“He’s out back with Seth,” I whispered. “Mom and Vi are with clients.”
“That’s what all those cars are doing out there.”
I gave her a look that said I wasn’t buying the act. She knew what was going on, but was hoping to get a peek at who was here. Her one vice was meddling. She liked nothing better than to find out that there was a problem somewhere and then try to fix it. Unfortunately, her information often came from other realms and couldn’t be proven. She had never messed around in my life, and for that I was grateful.
She shrugged. “You can’t blame me for trying. Information is gold in this town.”
“How was your trip?” I asked, hoping to steer her to the subject of why she had lied about her departure time.
“Oh, just wonderful! I love those retreats by the Oneness Institute. We had a healing circle. My teacher channeled her spirit guides, and we spent a lot of time in meditation with our own guides. Such a fabulous group of people. I wish they offered the retreats more often.”
“Have you heard about what’s been happening around here?” I led her into the kitchen.
“Oh my, yes. Such a tragedy. Sara Landess was very talented; Crystal Haven will surely miss her.”
“How did you hear?” I waved a pitcher of iced tea, and she nodded.
“Jillian called and left me a message. We have to have our phones off during the retreat, but I got the message on my way back home. To think that all the time I was in communication with Spirit, I could have tried to talk to Sara.”