Sometimes this house really creeps me out. My grandmother lived here all her life, and my mother and aunt swear she’s still here, even though they’d never “contacted” her. Every once in a while, I’m sure they’re right. You couldn’t grow up in a town full of mediums and not at least entertain the idea of ghosts.
I stood there, waiting, feeling a cool breeze where there should not have been one, and then it was gone. I heard the tap tap tap of Tuffy’s nails on the hardwood, and he and Seth came into the kitchen.
“Ahh!” Seth said. He jumped back and stepped on Tuffy, who squeaked and glared at me.
“What?” I said.
“You scared me. I thought I heard something, and Tuffy was acting scared, so we came down to check it out.”
“He probably sensed I was about to eat,” I said.
“Very funny. He’s more sensitive than you give him credit for.”
“What were you going to do if you found something? Scream at it?”
“No. I just . . . I didn’t know you were awake, and then you were standing there and you scared me, okay?”
“Fine.” I poured the cereal.
*
I dropped Seth back at the house after our morning rounds. I had some work to do and needed to be alone. I wanted to talk to Tish again and see if I could get any more information out of her. I was still bothered by the sense that she knew something about Sara’s death. It was strange that the usually gossipy Tish hadn’t asked any questions about Sara’s murder or the investigation. And there was something going on between Tish and my mother. It wasn’t like her to just breeze in and then leave. She hadn’t even stopped to gush with my mom and Vi about her retreat. She used to spend every Friday evening at our house, but I had hardly seen her since I moved back home.
I went straight to the Reading Room. It was a converted city building that was used for psychic readings. The city council also offered workshops on tarot reading and psychic development, mostly in the summer months. Only the psychics that had been licensed by the city could give readings there, and it was a great way to get new clients. Tish was a regular on Wednesday mornings.
I approached the building with some caution, as I didn’t want to meet Harriet Munson. She was in charge of organizing who was in the building and when. I had been involved in a small infraction of the psychic licensing bylaws as a teenager. Occasionally, I had come here with Tish and had offered my own brand of psychic advice before I decided to give it up forever. Harriet had never forgiven me for working without a license. And more than that, for telling her daughter that she should definitely pursue a career in acting instead of getting married. Harriet still didn’t have any grandchildren. It would be best if we didn’t cross paths.
I ducked inside the door behind a group of tourists and spotted Tish sitting in her usual place. She wasn’t alone, but I had planned for that problem. Tish was very popular, and I knew it was unlikely she would be without a client. I tried to stay with the group and keep my head down. I hoped to sneak over to speak with her between readings.
I couldn’t see who was with her, but she wasn’t giving a reading. Normally, during a session, she sat fairly still and seemed serene. Instead, she was gesturing and getting red in the face, arguing with whoever was there. The man was trying to calm her down. I couldn’t tell who it was. My group was heading in the wrong direction for me to listen in on Tish’s conversation. I was about to break away from them when I spotted Harriet across the room checking in another group of hopeful tourists waiting to hear their fortunes or to contact a loved one. She hadn’t noticed me. I was up on tiptoe to see over the person next to me.
Tish didn’t look happy.
“Clytemnestra Fortune! What are you doing here?” said a high-pitched voice.
I slumped down off my toes and tried to blend into the crowd, which was much smaller than I originally thought, consisting of only four older women and me. Very few people still called me Clytemnestra. Harriet was one of them. Harriet’s short heels clicked their way over to me in quick, angry taps.
“Hello, Mrs. Munson. It’s nice to see you after so much time.” I tried for the charm angle.
“You know I don’t approve of unlicensed psychics in the Reading Room,” she whispered as she approached. She stood pointing her finger at me, bringing herself to her full five feet one inch.
The ladies had pulled away from me at her approach, but now they began to edge closer again at the idea that I was not just a psychic, but a rule-breaking renegade psychic at that. I kept one eye on Tish and her visitor, but I still couldn’t tell what they were talking about. The acoustics were arranged to maintain privacy by several people working at one time in the same area.
“I’m just here to visit Tish. I’m not working. Actually, I don’t do that at all anymore.”
Harriet sniffed. My group moved away again.