Murder In Her Dreams

by Nell DuVall

  “Something is troubling you. Why don’t I do a general reading for you?” Leah handed the cards to Cassie. “Here, just shuffle them.” Leah brushed some lint off the surface of her long black skirt, stretched out first one leg then the other, and refolded them beneath her.

  Cassie took the rectangular cards and with difficulty tried to shuffle them. Larger than regular playing cards, the Tarot cards made it hard for her to keep them together. Twice she dropped cards and finally settled for sliding them from one hand to the other as she interleaved them. She handed the deck to Leah.

  Having heard about the Tarot cards, Cassie really knew nothing about the actual use of the cards. She had never had a reading. Tula believed in them and used them. She had offered to do a reading for Cassie, but because she didn’t understand them, Cassie had always refused. Her dreams of the future frightened her enough.

  Had anyone else been present, she would probably have passed on Leah’s offer, but with only the two of them, she thought Leah would consider her rude and closed-minded if she refused.

  When the others had been present, Cassie had concentrated on them and on Leah as she read the cards. She had paid little attention to the cards themselves. She had never examined a Tarot deck. She didn’t even know the names of the cards. She sighed as she slid over to kneel opposite Leah who began to lay out the cards.

  Cassie gasped as she saw the first card Leah turned over. The tower looked ominous with jagged lightning hitting its top and bodies falling out its side. On top of it, at right angles, Leah laid the moon with a dog and a fox baying. Cassie breathed more easily. She had a fondness for moon symbols.

  Above the crossed pair, Leah laid down a horned figure, the Devil, upside down and Cassie drew in a sharp breath as the leering demon mocked her. Evil incarnate.

  Next on the right came the black knight, but when Cassie read the legend Death she shuddered. The cards revealed so far frightened her.

  “Don’t worry.” Leah reached out a hand with stubby nails and patted Cassie’s clenched fingers. “Many of the cards have multiple meanings, and I must read the entire pattern. Reversed cards have opposite meanings from upright cards.”

  Next, below the crossed pair in the middle, Leah set down a card with a pair of black and white sphinx at the bottom. The name read Chariot. To the left she revealed the Hanged Man. Cassie shuddered again and clenched her fists in her lap. She didn’t think these cards could reveal anything but more trouble.

  Along the right side, Leah set out four more cards. First, the High Priestess and then above that, the Strength card with a lady and a lion. Cassie relaxed a little. Next came the reversed Empress and lastly, the naked figures of a man and woman. For a moment in the light of the lamp, she could swear the small figure of the man had red hair. She blinked.

  Leah, hands on her knees, leaned back to study the cards. “An interesting pattern, it goes from pain and defeat to love.” She nodded.

  “You have a talent.” She tapped the High Priestess at the lower right. “Intuition and foresight — maybe you see the future.” She studied Cassie’s face. Cassie nodded slowly, surprised at Leah’s insight.

  “In the past, you suffered some hurt or defeat.” She tapped the reversed Chariot. “But you have the ability to overcome these past losses and failures. You have an unknown enemy who wishes you ill.” She pointed at the Moon card and then to the Hanged Man. “You may have to make a sacrifice to defeat this enemy.”

  “An enemy?” Cassie hugged herself. “I don’t have any enemies.”

  Leah raised a doubting eyebrow. “I can only tell you what the cards say. You have to decide how they apply to you.”

  The black rabbit of her nightmare. Could it be considered an enemy?

  Leah had turned her gaze back to the cards. “You have great strength, but you will need it to overcome the hidden forces that work against you. Your anxiety and indecision hamper you. You must use your own strength and that of your friends to triumph. In the end though, I see a happy conclusion and the love you have failed to find in the past.”

  Cassie sighed, relieved the reading had not been as bleak as she feared when she had seen the first few cards revealed, but still troubled by idea of the black rabbit as a hidden enemy. Some of Leah’s guesses came too close to the truth. Death must signal Ellie Latham.

  “Have you been talking to Tula about me?”

  Leah laughed, a hearty, happy sound. “No, I’ve never heard your name before. When the cards reveal truth, it makes some people uncomfortable.” She studied Cassie’s face a moment.

  “My guess is you have a talent and it worries you. You don’t want to trust it. You would probably make a good reader. My advice is rely on yourself and your friends. You can overcome the danger that threatens you.”

  Leah gathered the cards. “Would you like me to cast another pattern?”

  Cassie shook her head. She had enough to think about. She didn’t need anything else to add to her confusion.

  Nodding, Leah wrapped the cards in a piece of red silk, and tucked the cards into a small velvet bag hanging at her waist. “Since no one else is waiting, why don’t we join the rest of the party?” She rose from the floor in one supple motion and shook out her long black skirt.

  Cassie unkinked her legs and pushed herself up from the floor. “Uh, thanks for the reading.”

  “My pleasure. Have faith in yourself, Cassie. The cards do.”

  Cassie trailed behind Leah down the stairs and back to the parlor. She stood at the entrance and gazed about the large room. She had helped Tula scrape and refinish the walnut moldings of the parlor. The party had thinned out and, while fewer people filled the space, it still looked crowded.

  In the middle of the room, Tula held court. Dressed in a dark brown caftan with bright orange embroidery at the neck, sleeve edges, and hem, she looked like a proud queen. Against the dark brown fabric, her sun pendant flashed like the real thing. She laughed, white teeth gleaming, at some comment from a man at her elbow. Spotting Cassie near the doorway, she excused herself. She bore down on Cassie and took her hands.

  “May you always walk in light.” She kissed both of Cassie’s cheeks. “Glad to see you could make it. Anyone special I can introduce to you?”

  “How about your new man?”

  “Too late for that. We said goodbye last night. He wanted more than I wanted to give. Don’t worry there’s always another one nearby.”

  “ Yeah, Tula, I’m sure of that. There always is with you.”

  “Forget about me. Now, who would you like to meet?”

  Cassie surveyed the room. Clusters of people she didn’t know talked with animation. To judge by the laughter and from the snatches of conversation she caught, everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves.

  “Like I told you, Duncan has to update his lectures,” a man said.

  “Patty told me Donna and Joe are getting married,” came from a tall woman in purple.

  Like Tula, most of these people spoke as much with their hands as with their words. Cassie ducked as the man next to her made an especially wide movement with his arm.

  “Oops, sorry about that,” he muttered and then went on with what he had been saying.

  Another group in one corner looked to be in a heated discussion, but then they too burst into laughter. All the easy familiarity made Cassie more lonely. In the far corner next to the fireplace, a longhaired blond man sat by himself reading a book and ignoring the noise and commotion in the rest of the room.

  “How about him?” Someone reading a book might be worth talking to, and it would at least provide something to discuss.

  “Bert? Sure, come on.”

  Tula led Cassie by the hand as she moved toward the man. Smiling and nodding, she strode forward. People automatically moved to one side or the other for Tula, like Moses parting the Red Sea. Cassie felt like a rowboat in the wake of the Titanic, all but invisible.

  When they reached the young man, Tula touched him on the arm to get h
is attention. “Bert, I’d like you to meet a very special friend of mine, Cassie Blake. Cassie, Bert Hansen. He’s an accountant and a weightlifter, so watch out, but otherwise, he’s a nice guy.”

  He laughed as he took Cassie’s small hand in his much larger one. “Hi, Cassie, how are you?”

  “Fine,” she mumbled, wishing she hadn’t mentioned him to Tula. His good looks intimidated her, and the way he eyed her reminded her too much of Rod..

  Anxious for something to say, she looked down at the large book in his left hand. The cover showed a huge flower in creamy whites and pale greens. Cassie smiled as she recognized the painting.

  “Georgia O’Keefe, she’s one of my favorites. I see you like her, too.”

  “What?” He frowned and then followed Cassie’s look to the book he held. “Oh, yeah, I think so. At least these pictures say something. The flowers are, uh...” He gave Cassie a knowing look, and she blushed. “A bit sexy. Now these landscapes, they really hit me. All that stark emptiness sort of gets me.”

  Someone called Tula’s name, and she drifted away. Cassie didn’t like the way the conversation had started, and the man’s attention overwhelmed her. She had taken him for the intellectual type, but now wondered at her judgment.

  She struggled for something to say. “Tula said something about weights.”

  “Yeah, it’s my hobby.” He automatically flexed his biceps. “I’m working on entering Arnold Schwarzenegger’s contest. You never know where that might lead.”

  “As to fame and fortune?”

  “Well, maybe. Schwarzenegger is an astute businessman. He laughs all the way to the bank. With one percent of his capital, I could do big things. Actually, I hope if I do well, I might get to meet him, and then... Who knows? Big men like him need accountants. I might be able to work it into something.”

  She blinked. An accountant? “Oh, you don’t like your job?” To her, weightlifting didn’t go with accounting. Maybe the guy wasn’t too smart, and his boss knew it.

  He shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m ambitious, see? I work in a small firm, and the head honcho already has this other guy. Far as I can see, he has ages to go before retirement, so it doesn’t leave much chance for me. It’s okay to get the experience, but I’ll have to move on if I want to move up. This contest might be just the ticket.”

  “Hey, Bert.” A young man from the group on the porch ducked his head into the parlor. “We’re going for pizza and beer. Wanna come along?”

  “Yeah, Joey.” He set the book back on the shelf. “How about you, Cassie? Want to come with us? You can ride with me on my motorcycle. I’ve got a black Harley Davidson.”

  Cassie blinked. An accountant with a black Harley Davidson. She stared more closely at the blond hunk in front her. Accounting, weightlifting, and a motorcycle. Well, at least the last two went together.

  “Well, how about it?” Bert gave her a quizzical look.

  “What?” She stared at him, lost. What had he asked her?

  “The pizza. Want to come with us?”

  She shook her head. She wanted no part of any motorcycle. “No, I really need to see Tula. Nice talking to you.”

  Cassie watched Bert hurry off to join the crew outside with relief and then turned to look for Tula. She scanned the people in the parlor, but saw no sign of her friend. Threading her way through the crowd into the walnut-paneled dining room, she squeezed past a balding, stout man, and then slipped into the large kitchen empty of people.

  Oak cupboards lined one wall with one counter beneath them and another along the adjoining wall. A large pine table filled the center of the room. Plates of food covered the table and the counter beneath the cupboards. A large coffee urn, a sink full of ice, and bottles of soda occupied the other counter.

  No alcohol, not even wine or beer here. Like smoking, Tula had a thing about drinking. The body as a temple or some such. Or maybe, her Irish father’s drinking had led to it.

  Cassie looked over the food. Cold cuts, hummus, garbanzo beans, black beans, baby ears of corn, trays of fresh and pickled vegetables, and a variety of cheeses and breads. It made her stomach growl, but she found it all together too much. Rather than sample a little of each, she decided to make a ham sandwich. She slathered the dark rye bread with grainy mustard, layered on thinly sliced ham, added a slice of Havarti cheese, and topped it with pickled cauliflower. At the sound of a step behind her, she turned to see Tula.

  “Cassie, you okay? I didn’t see you in the other room and thought I’d better look for you. How did you and Bert get on?”

  “Just fine. He went off to get some pizza, but I’m not up to riding motorcycles.” Cassie looked down at her sandwich. “Tula, does he work for Ian McLeod?”

  “McLeod? I’ve no idea. Why?”

  “He’s an accountant.”

  “So? I don’t know who he works for, but I can ask if you want.”

  “No, it doesn’t matter. I guess I’m just jittery. After Bert left, well ... I sort of felt out of it. So, I started to wander and just naturally ended up in the kitchen. When I saw all this food, my stomach reminded me I hadn’t had dinner.”

  She held up her sandwich. “Want some?”

  “Not just yet. I sampled everything earlier.” Tula half sat on the corner of the table and played with her pendant. “What did you think of Bert?”

  “Oh, he seemed nice enough, but a little young for me. I’m not into muscle men.”

  Tula snorted. “Don’t let the exterior fool you. Under the bod lurks a savvy mind.”

  Cassie poured a glass of cola. “Ambitious, yes. I don’t know about the rest. We didn’t talk that long.”

  Tula grinned at her “I guess we’ll have to look for an older type with red hair, eh?”

  Cassie picked up her sandwich. “I don’t know. It’s just, well, after Rod ... maybe I’m too suspicious. I want someone who accepts me for what I am, dreams and all. Rod couldn’t do that. I’m not sure many men could, especially an accountant type.”

  “Cassie, Cassie, it’s okay. You have a talent — one to rejoice in, not regret.” She pulled Cassie into her arms and hugged her. “Rod was a stinker. Not every man is like that. Some men have premonitions, others dream. The power lives in all of us in some way, though many deny it. You’re lucky. These dreams give you the power to do something.”

  “Yeah, sure they do, but too late to change anything.” Cassie buried her face on Tula’s shoulder, taking comfort in the smell of vanilla and cloves.

  “Hey, you just haven’t learned to understand them yet, that’s all.” Tula lifted Cassie’s chin, her amber eyes filled with sympathy and concern. “When you learn to decipher them, then you can act. The dreams mean something. We just don’t know what yet.”

  “Symbols, smibols. I’m tired of it. Let someone else work it out.”

  “It’s not as easy as that. I know you would rather not have the responsibility, but it’s not like you have any choice about it. I don’t know why you’ve been chosen, Cassie, but I do know you have to do something about it.” Tula fingered the sun pendant. “Somehow, we’ll figure out that rabbit.”

  Cassie shuddered and rubbed her arms. “I have done something. I sent Ian McLeod a note. Now it’s up to him.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Tula picked up a plate with a cheese ball and crackers. “Come on, I have to feed this hungry throng.”

  “In a bit, I’ll just finish my sandwich first. I’m okay, Tula, don’t worry about me.”

  “Hey, that’s what friends are for, to worry about us. If I don’t see you in five minutes, I’ll be back to drag you out.”

  Cassie smiled. “Five minutes. I promise. Say, Tula, did you tell Leah Chernowski about me? I mean about Ellie Latham.”

  “What?” Tula stared at Cassie for a moment. “Leah? No, I’ve never discussed that with anyone. Why?”

  “She read the Tarot cards.”

  “I see.” Tula nodded and smiled. “Leah has a talent, like yours, but a bit different.
I’d pay attention to any advice she gave me. I trust her, Cassie.”

  Tula’s words reminded Cassie of Leah’s “Rely on yourself and your friends.” As Cassie watched Tula sweep through the door to the dining room, she pondered Leah’s advice. A hidden enemy. Sacrifice. Trust.

  She stared down at her half-eaten sandwich. Why did that awful rabbit have to pick on her?

  Chapter Eight

  As she drove to work, Cassie decided Tula’s party had been a good idea even if she hadn’t mixed much. Anyway, Leah’s advice, for what it might be worth, contained some hope.

  Shyness wouldn’t get friends. Just being out among people again made her feel less isolated and lonely. She hadn’t encountered Rod either, but Tula would never have invited him. Many of her guests brought friends along. She could never be sure who would be there. At the next party, Cassie would mingle more and talk to people instead of hanging back and watching others.

  For the first time in over a week, she concentrated fully on her job instead of her fears. At least she understood and enjoyed her work. The library harbored no horrors except those beneath the covers of Stephen King and Clive Barker’s books. The worst she could expect was another of Jimmy’s awful puns or the occasional raucous teenager.

  “Hi, Miss Blake.” Jimmy Wilson, his unruly hair falling over his right eye, gave Cassie his usual grin.

  She smiled at him wondering if he’d been there all the time, and she had glimpsed him from the corner of her eye. Had that triggered her subconscious to dredge up thoughts of him or had she somehow summoned him? Get a grip, girl. She sure risked going off the deep end.

  “Hi, Jimmy.”

  “I got another riddle for you. What do you call a cowardly cur?”

  Cassie took a deep breath and pushed her long hair out of the way over her shoulders. “Cowardly cur?” She rested her chin on her fist. “Let me see ... umm, that’s hard. Cowardly? Timid? Craven?”

  As she watched Jimmy’s face, his grin widened. “Last time you used colors. Yellow belly? Yellow."

  Jimmy said nothing, but his grin faded a tad.