“I...knew Wendy. I want to know what happened to her.”
Divinity picked up the pencil she’d had when Max first walked in and waggled it between her fingers. “I used to smoke, quit over five years ago, but I still need something to hold.” She smiled, tipped her head to one side, sniffed the air, then looked at Max. “Some people prefer chewing on something when they quit, like peppermints.”
The words jolted her. Max tried to scramble out of the chair, but it sucked her back down. Cameron’s peppermints floated in with a pleasant stream of air.
Go away, she mentally insisted.
I’ll never leave you alone when you need me, Max. He never had, at least not since he died.
“Why don’t you give me something to hold, Max? It helps center me. It won’t hurt, I promise.”
Max had tucked her purse down close beside the chair. There were innumerable objects inside she could have offered. Her checkbook. The Bic pen she used. Her car keys.
Max pulled off her wedding ring and handed it to the woman.
Divinity closed her fist around the gold band, lowered her eyelids, and let out a soft sigh. “Over a year ago, I told Wendy she was going to meet an influential man.”
“Rich? Powerful?”
“Influential to Wendy. A man who would have a profound effect on her life.” Divinity opened her eyes again. “Why don’t you wear an engagement ring?”
Max looked down at her hands. They were bare now. “Did Wendy know who he was?”
“I told her his name was something like...Rick Blake.”
“Nick Drake.”
“Yes. A few weeks later, she told me she’d met him.”
“What exactly did she tell you?”
“Just that he’d started work at the store. She was amazed by the name. I told her to watch for his influence.”
“What else?”
“That was it.”
“What?” It was enough to galvanize her halfway out of the chair. “She never said anything else? Not a word?”
“Only reiterated that he was indeed a great influence, and then she never mentioned him again.”
Max’s jaw dropped. “But that’s not possible.”
“It is, Max. You didn’t tell me why you aren’t wearing an engagement ring.”
“I...what’s that got to do with Wendy?”
Divinity’s gaze never wavered. “Why...” She spread one hand in the air. “It has everything to do with Wendy.”
Max looked at her hands again and the explanation just rolled off her tongue. “I told Cameron it was all or nothing. No engagement. Just the real thing. Either he wanted me, or he didn’t. So we got married instead of getting engaged.”
Divinity held up the hand with Max’s ring and slowly unfolded her fingers. “So it was with Wendy. All or nothing. Put it on.”
What the hell did that mean? Scooting forward to the edge of her chair, Max took the ring and slipped it back on her finger.
“Now give me your hand.”
She did, laying her hand palm up in Divinity’s. Like a lamb to the slaughter.
“Why do you think you need me when you have more power in your little finger than I could ever hope to have after all my years of spiritual training?”
A trace of nervousness streaked up Max’s spine. “Give me a break.”
“You have all the answers about Wendy right up here.” Divinity leaned forward to tap Max’s temple.
Scalded, Max jumped back from her touch. She shivered despite the warmth of the room. “I don’t know nearly enough about Wendy to find her murderer.”
“You have power, Max.”
Power? The woman sounded like Cameron. Terrifyingly like Cameron. “Years of spiritual training,” she scoffed suddenly. Feeling far more than mere nervousness—it was damn near close to panic—Max went for Divinity’s jugular. “You live above a plumbing supply store in the dumpy, industrial part of town. Drug deals are probably taking place behind the body shop next door. I don’t see much spirituality around here.”
“That was my father you saw downstairs. He needs me.”
“Forgive me, but you charge sixty dollars an hour. Somehow that seems a little more mercenary than spiritual.”
“Perhaps you noticed the amount of dust on my father’s wares. Sixty dollars an hour supports us both.”
Max did a quick calc. “That’s almost a hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars a year.”
“If I had every hour accounted for, which I don’t. It’s more important to spend time with my father.”
Max’s cheeks burned. Divinity displayed not an ounce of apology, anger, or offense. Her attitude put Max in her place. “I’m sorry. I’m wrong to—”
The woman waved a hand, smiled. “I understand. Lashing out is a common defense mechanism.” Okay, that really put Max in her place. And so true. “But we were talking about you, Max.”
“I was trying to talk about Wendy.”
“Wendy was a lost and lonely soul.”
“Did she say anything that would help point to her killer?”