As we moved down the hallway I noticed that the air smelled of incense and something else that I couldn’t identify, but was a little smoky and sweet like burning grass. Soft instrumental music grew in volume the further in we went. I spotted a large kitchen at the end of the hallway with Redwood cupboards, black granite countertops and a beige marble looking floor. Bright sunlight flooded the kitchen. It looked so homey that I was almost excited to be having my reading there. But before we made it to the kitchen, Gingerella opened a side door that I hadn’t noticed. The scent of incense and burning was stronger here. When I saw the censer with tendrils of smoke swirling out of it, I knew why.
The office housed a large Maplewood desk with four soft looking burgundy leather and wood chairs, positioned in front of the desk. A huge picture window with heavy burgundy curtains looked out onto a garden area that was lush and green.
“Have a seat,” she said.
She slipped behind the desk, lighting the half dozen tapered candles, sitting in brass candle stick holders. Floor to ceiling built in bookcases filled the whole wall behind the desk. The bookcases held mostly books but also housed various crystals in a multitude of shapes and colors. The contents of one shelf was obscured by a thick piece of black velvet. Other than the desk and chairs, there was only one more piece of furniture, a small black side table with a Bose stereo system on top of it.
I was the first to sit, Trinity was quick to follow. In contrast to me, Trinity wasn’t accustomed to the whole psychic experience. For the first time since I had known her she didn’t seem as self-assured as she usually was. In fact she looked as uncomfortable as I had ever seen her. Seeing her so freaked made me want to laugh, but when I remembered why I was there my giggles remained lodged in my throat.
“Do you have something that belonged to your mother?” Gingerella asked. She stared over her glasses at me in what felt like a grandmotherly way. It made me wish I had a grandmother in my life. I had never known either of my grandmothers who had both died before I had been born. I didn’t know what the odds of that happening were, but I didn’t think it was very common.
Luckily I had read Gingerella’s suggestion on her website, that I bring an article that had belonged to the person I wanted to contact. I handed her the oval shaped silver locket that Mom had worn every day of her life. It was at least fifty years old, and had once belonged to my grandmother Lucy. Inside the locket was a tiny picture of my grandmother and my Grampa Jack, taken just before they had been married. It had been one of Mom’s treasures; now it was one of mine.
Just holding the locket made tears burn at the back of my eyes. Since Mom had died I had avoided as much of her stuff as was possible, in fact I hadn’t even protested when Dad had donated all of her clothes to Goodwill. I had been a shitty excuse for a daughter when she was alive, I didn’t have a right to have any say about what happened to her things when she was dead. I had ended up with the bits that my father had decided to save, which wasn’t much. Judging from the paltry stash he had kept, Dad had adapted to Mom no longer being a part of his life, long before she had died. With his new wife Carla’s blossoming pregnancy, his world was just fine.
Gingerella took the locket in her age-spotted hands, running her thumb over the engraved surface. She closed her eyes. Trinity took the opportunity to pinch me at that particular moment. I glanced sideways at her. She mouthed the words what is she doing? I shrugged, knowing little about why psychics did what they did, only that it was part of the process. Trinity opened her mouth again, but before she could ask anything else Gingerella spoke.
“I see her dressed in a suit, going to work and there is a gavel there too.”
I nodded. I wasn’t very excited about what she had said since it would have been easy enough to do a web search and find out about Mom’s death. Gingerella had my name because I had sent her a Paypal payment to secure my appointment.
“I see a car accident, trauma to the chest and head,” she said.
Her focus was locked on the pendant. Once again I wasn’t impressed, it was just another piece of easily accessible information. I needed more than that, a sign that she knew something that no one else did.
My heart sped up until it felt like it was beating outside my chest. I felt my cheeks flush, a trickle of sweat trailed down my temple. Panic and dread spread through me like snake poison. All I could wonder was if I had wasted even more money on someone who couldn’t deliver. I closed my eyes and swallowed a few times. My head felt light and my stomach clenched into a fist. The money would eventually run out, or Dad would get a clue, if I didn’t find the right person soon…
I felt Trinity’s hand on my back. It did little to calm me since I didn’t deserve her kindness. Murderers weren’t supposed to be comforted, they were supposed to suffer. A wave of rage at my stupidity washed over me. I lurched to my feet.
“I need more,” I hollered. “I need to know she’s here. I don’t want to hear about how she died because I already know that…”
The tears that I had managed to hold at bay, dripped down my cheeks. I swiped them away with the back of my hand, more than a little pissed that I couldn’t get my crap together. Yet despite knowing that I was handling everything wrong, I couldn’t stop the flood of emotions that had already managed to unbalance me.
“I need her to be here. I need…”
Trinity was on her feet with her arms around me. Even Gingerella was standing now. I guessed my outburst had been something she hadn’t expected from a client. I wanted to be sorry, but I couldn’t manage it. I wanted so much more. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew what I wanted was impossible, but I couldn’t give up on the hope that had buoyed me up until now. Because without my hope I would surely splinter into a million pieces.
“Try to calm down Lexie,” Trinity murmured into my ear.
I wanted to listen to her, but it felt impossible. She had no idea how it felt to live every day with the truth that most of the last words I had spoken to Mom had been ones of hate. Once again my mind filled with all the things I could have done differently. If I had only known the devastation that my infantile selfishness would have caused I would have stayed home, buried myself under the sheets, whatever it took. But none of that was possible, what was done couldn’t be undone.
“What does an angel mean to you?” Gingerella said. I went boneless at the question.
I allowed Trinity to push me gently into the plush chair. My mind swam with the concept that there was no way that Gingerella could have known about the message Mom had left me, which meant that…
“Is she here?” I asked.
All the saliva in my mouth had dried up, making it difficult to speak.
Gingerella followed my lead, easing back into her chair. Her thumb rubbed forcefully over the face of the locket. My already pounding heart beat impossibly faster. The room instantly went colder as if someone had opened a window. I shivered uncontrollably.
“Lexie are you okay?” I heard Trinity say. Her voice sounded hollow and echoey as if she were miles away. I didn’t answer her.
“Is my mother here?” I asked, my voice coming out in barely a whisper.
Gingerella’s slate blue eyes stared straight ahead, then behind me as if I were suddenly invisible. I didn’t want to allow it to happen, but a seed of hope lodged in my heart that I might see my mother standing behind me. I didn’t have any idea what a ghost looked like, and before Mom had died I had never cared, but now it was all I wanted to see.
Gingerella nodded in response to my question.
“She’s here,” she said solemnly.
I automatically flipped around to see what Gingerella was looking at and saw exactly what most normal people would have expected, dead space. There was no one and nothing behind me; I hated Gingerella for tricking me into believing that I might actually have had a chance to see my mother again.
“How can she be here, I can’t see her. I can’t even feel her. I mean if she’s really here shouldn’t I feel so
mething different?” I said.
The concept that I had made a huge mistake and wasted my money on yet another psychic who couldn’t deliver, grew in intensity. Maybe the angel comment had just been a fluke. It was quite possible that it was something she said to all of her clients. I had heard about psychics fishing for information. With one choice word they could get you to spill your guts and they would have everything they needed to make you buy into all their so-called divine messages.
Angels were right up there with fortunetelling, there was no proof that they existed, but there also was no evidence that said that they didn’t exist. If I hadn’t reacted to the mention of an angel would she have used several more carefully delivered words to gauge which one I would react to?
“Your mother says she loves you and she wants you to stop feeling guilty about her death. She wants you to go on living and…”
“Gee do you think you could be anymore generic?” I said, bitterly. I had never treated any of the others I’d had readings with like this before, and I was a little ashamed by my behavior. She seemed like a nice enough woman, but it felt like something had snapped deep inside me, as if my soul had come apart and I had just realized that I had nothing left to live for.
“I… I…” Gingerella stammered.
I knew that I was a sentence away from being tossed out on my ass, but even that knowledge didn’t stay my tongue.
“You’re just like the rest of them, all frauds.”
I jumped to my feet. Gingerella practically cowered as if she expected me to hit her. I would have been lying if I had said that I didn’t want to smash something right then. The rational part of me knew that she didn’t deserve the barrage of anger I was unleashing on her, but it was like I was possessed. I burst into crazed laughter. The sound of it was scary even to my own ears.
“I think we need to go,” Trinity said.
I felt her fingers wrap around my upper arm none too gently.
“I think this was a bad idea, she’s still dealing with everything that’s happened and…”
Trinity gave Gingerella a stiff smile, the woman responded in kind. I could tell by her expression that she was going to be glad to be rid of me.
“I can give her a refund,” Gingerella said.
She came around to our side of the desk.
“I’ll send her payment back later today.”
I despised how they were conversing as if I wasn’t a sentient being. I opened my mouth to say just that, when Trinity snapped me forward and through the door into the hallway. Her fingernails bit into the skin of my arm. If I needed any more indication of how ticked she was, that was it.
“That’ll be great…sorry for all this.”
Gingerella nodded. Instead of being irritated, like Trinity obviously was, Gingerella stared at me with an expression of pity; it was worse than if she had cursed me out. Seeing her compassion undid me.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I started blubbering.
Even as I spoke, my thoughts screamed that this wasn’t me. I didn’t attack helpless old ladies, I didn’t yell and scream and throw tantrums with strangers. Mom had taught me better than this, and instead of honoring her by being polite and respectful, I was being a complete bitch. So much so, that even Trinity who had never lost her cool with me before, was fuming.
“Can’t we try again? I’ll do everything you want me to and I…”
“No, I think your friend is right, you need time to get through this, to…”
“No I don’t I’m fine, really I am.”
I couldn’t see through the curtain of tears that poured out of me in a torrent.
“Lexie we’re leaving,” Trinity said.
Her tone had softened and so had her grip, but that didn’t mean we were staying.
“Wait just a minute,” Gingerella said from behind us.
Trinity stopped tugging me forward, then reluctantly swiveled back toward the psychic. Gingerella had a stack of newspapers in her hands and was busy rifling through them. She pulled one out and thumbed through it until she found what she was looking for. I had no idea what she was doing when she ripped out what looked to be an advertisement.
“Take this,” she said, handing me the bit of paper she had retrieved. “I went to see this little boy a couple of years ago and I…” She paused, holding my eyes with hers. “If anyone can help you with your mother, he can. There’s something special about him.”
She shook her head as if searching for the right words.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she said, then placed her hand on my shoulder. I felt her touch for a beat before she let her arm drop back to her side. Once again her expression was marked by sympathy. It only made me feel worse for crapping on her. I didn’t know if she could connect with dead people or not, but she was definitely a good person. She had tried to help me and I had treated her horribly.
Guilt didn’t even begin to describe how terrible I felt. I still didn’t know what had come over me, only that for a few minutes I had felt as if I was losing my grasp on reality. The pain that had been the only emotion that I had felt since Mom had died was suffocating me. The rational part of me knew that I was going deep, into a dark place that would probably swallow me up forever, but I just didn’t seem to have the strength to veer off that path.
“He’s a faith healer and medium,” I said when we were outside again.
I skimmed through the dates and shows that he was booked for. The newspaper was dated, but there was one more show that was supposed to happen in a couple of weeks time. A thrill of excitement surged through me. Fate had just handed me the answers I needed, and the name that would save my life was Gabriel Sanders.
8. LEXIE
I stirred my coffee a few more times than was required. When I had mixed it as much as I could chance without giving away my nerves, I cupped the oversized white mug in both of my hands and brought the coffee to my lips. The first taste revealed a perfectly tailored brew exactly to my specific requirements, double cream, one sugar.
I pulled my feet up and under me, sinking into the buttery soft leather chairs of Café Blanche. The comfy chairs were second only to the exquisite coffee that the place was famous for. Curled in one of the chairs with a coffee and a pastry was a sublime experience, no matter how terrible your day might have been. As I swallowed the flavorful brew, I remembered Mom and how she had always said that if I wanted to drink coffee and tea that I needed to drink it without sugar. So as required I had always omitted the sweetness that most people appreciated, until I eventually had become accustomed to the taste. Only after a year of drinking coffee did I realize that Mom always added sugar to her own coffee and tea. I had been indignant when I had discovered her trick, but now I could only laugh at her ploy to keep excess sugar out of my life. For no reason other than I wanted to have something that reminded me of her, I had started taking sugar like she had, a month after she had died.
I brought my focus back to Trinity. Her hair was drawn up into a messy bun with chopsticks sticking like porcupine quills from the top of it. She was wearing a turquoise kimono with hints of burgundy and mint green. Tied loosely at the waist was a satin sash that was shell pink. As always, she owned the look seamlessly.
“Trinity, I promise this is absolutely the last and I really mean last, psychic slash medium I’m going to go to,” I said.
I clasped my hands together like I was praying. In that moment I needed Trinity to say yes more than I needed air to breathe. Because if she didn’t agree to come with me I was completely and utterly screwed. I cast my eyes to the glassed-in showcase near the cash register, perusing the confections that I was going to enjoy as soon as Trinity agreed to my plan.
“That Gingerella fiasco has been like a thorn in my big toe. I know she was trying to help, but she just made everything more complicated by giving you that freaking flyer.”
Trinity’s bottom lip was pushed out into a pout. It was something I hadn’t seen very often, but was
becoming more and more common these days. I wasn’t used to dealing with her like this and it made me doubt that I would be able to convince her after all. It seemed my celebratory Cherry Danish was going to have to wait for a bit longer than I had hoped.
Since I was getting absolutely nowhere with Trinity, I moved on to Aiden who unlike Trinity wasn’t immune to my begging. I gave him the most pathetic look that I could muster, hoping that he could smooth out Trinity’s tough and unyielding edges for me. His smile was lazy, his blue eyes were half-closed as he lounged in the plush chair he had chosen. But his relaxed expression didn’t hide the sympathy that almost tangibly drifted my way. From the day Mom had died, Aiden had treated me like I was a pile of fragile eggshells. Usually his compassion irritated me, now I was planning on using it to my full advantage; I only hoped it was enough.
“Aiden, you know I’m being one hundred percent legit?” I said in a soft melodramatic voice, one that I would normally have been ashamed to use. But I was desperate. The show was just a week away and since it was a few days drive across country, I didn’t have time to waste.
Suddenly in the hot seat, Aiden’s cheeks flamed red. I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
I reasoned that all was fair in love and war. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair, his bicep flexing impossibly large with the move. I pondered what you had to do at the gym to be that jacked.
“I…I… yeah, I think you’re telling the truth Lexie,” he started to say, but abruptly closed his mouth when Trinity shot him an icy glare. Aiden who was a head taller than Trinity and sixty pounds heavier, withered like a delicate flower in the Sahara.
“Come on Trin, it’s the end of summer and we’re going to be in school in a few short weeks, let’s look at it like it’s an adventure,” I interjected, unable to witness Aiden squirm a minute longer. In all the time I had known him, I had never seen him back down from a fight, physical or verbal, that was until he and Trinity had started dating. It wasn’t like he was a complete push over with her, I had seen him exert his will when it had mattered, but this was different. He understood that Trinity was trying to help me deal with Mom’s death, and get me back on the path to my future. As much as I loved Trinity, she just didn’t get how important it was for me to see Gabriel Sanders.
Ransom (Holding Ransom # 1) Page 9