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Dressed to Kill

Page 5

by Lynn Cahoon


  It always does.

  As I curled up on the porch swing, I threw a blanket over my legs. After a few chapters, I promptly fell asleep.

  In my dream I was chasing kittens, trying to keep them safe and out of harm’s way. They weren’t cooperating. I’d wrangle one back into the paper box and another would take off, running with scissors. Finally, exhausted, I’d lain by the box, and the kittens had come to sleep by me. I could still feel the purrs vibrating on my legs as I woke from the dream.

  When I looked down at my legs, still covered by my wandering quilt, I found the source of the vibration. A black cat opened her yellow eyes, blinked twice, then laid her head on my leg and fell back to sleep.

  “Who are you?” I reached down to stroke the cat’s soft fur. She purred her response, but I felt a collar and a tag. I adjusted on the swing, bringing her closer so I could read the tag. “Maggie?” I read further down to see the address.

  Pulling her into my arms, I stood and walked around the house, Emma following at my heels. “Some watchdog you are,” I chided as I locked her into the front yard. “Allowing another animal to come and cuddle with me while I slept.”

  Maggie meowed and Emma let out a short bark, like, Where are you taking my new friend?

  Crossing the empty road, I made my way to Esmeralda’s front door via her winding stone path. I had to admit, the woman knew how to set a stage. As the town’s resident fortune-teller, Esmeralda’s home was her office. At least when she wasn’t working her second job as a dispatcher for the police department. Small towns, everyone is related or works with someone you know. I liked my neighbor. She kept to herself. Her business didn’t attract a lot of traff ic on the street, and she had started working on the outside of the house. When I first inherited the house from Miss Emily, Esmeralda’s had been in worse shape than mine—a fact that the city council overlooked due to her relationship with our Honorable Mayor Baylor. I was getting tear-down notices; she was giving fortunes with positive outcomes in her private sessions at City Hall.

  Not that I held a grudge.

  I pushed the doorbell and a cascade of wind chime music tinkled behind the door. No response. I looked down at the kitten, not willing to trust that if I put it down in the yard, it wouldn’t cross the road again, this time with not as favorable results. I pushed the bell again, thinking that maybe Esmeralda was on the phones at her other job. I snuck a peek toward town. I didn’t think Greg would take kindly to me dropping the kitten off at the police station. I could take her inside the house and wait. I returned my gaze to the sleepy kitten in my arms. “What do you think, Maggie?”

  She blinked twice at me. Then I heard the door creak open.

  “Jill. So nice of you to stop by.” Esmeralda was dressed in full costume, a scarf tied over her long black hair, a white peasant blouse with a neckline that showed more cleavage than most of the beach babes who frequented the store on summer days. Layers of skirts rustled with her slightest movement.

  Maggie meowed and shifted in my arms.

  “I had a visitor this afternoon.” I held the cat toward her.

  She shook her head, holding up her sparkling red nails. “Can you bring her inside? I finished my touch-ups for tonight’s reading. My hands are so important to the presentation, I’m always refreshing my mani.”

  Then she disappeared into the hallway, clearly expecting me to follow. Hesitantly, I stepped into the cool, dark house. I’d never been inside the house before. The smell of lavender and jasmine filled my senses, taking me back to days when I visited my grandmother in South Dakota. Her bedroom had held the scent of fresh sheets that she dried outside on the line, making them crinkle and feel hard.

  “Do you want me to sit her down?” I called to the empty hallway.

  Her voice echoed from another room. “Close the door and bring her into the reading room. She has a bed in here so she can learn to draw in the spirits. I’m teaching her to be a familiar.”

  I shut the door and looked down at Maggie. “So you’re going to have a career in the fortune-telling business,” I whispered to the now purring cat. I swear she smiled in response to my words. I walked through the hallway, with the large pictures of people who were obviously long gone based on the frames and the photo quality. I felt their eyes on us as we walked through the hall to the first door on the right that was open. I stepped into the room and knew I was in the right place. The walls were covered with velvet fabric, and a single table sat in the middle of the room, a real, swear to heaven, crystal ball placed in the middle of the table.

  Esmeralda was moving a blanket over a small couch on the side of the room. “Put her down here. I can’t believe she got out again. I think I should have named her Houdini, not Maggie.”

  The kitten gave a tiny meow in protest as I set her on the couch. “Emma must like her. I thought she would keep her out of the yard. Instead, I woke up to her sleeping beside me out on the porch.”

  Esmeralda studied my face. “She’s drawn to you. I should have seen it before.”

  I held up my hands, blocking the idea. “I do not need another pet. Emma and I do quite well together.”

  “No, I don’t mean that.” She gestured to the table. “Why don’t we sit for a few minutes? I believe we need to talk.”

  Inside my head, I groaned. I didn’t need a trip to crazyland today. Esmeralda was always bringing me messages from beyond, like she was my personal answering machine. I couldn’t believe I’d let myself be sucked into her reality again. “I really need to get back.” I grasped for a good excuse. “Laundry. You know how it stacks up.”

  Her gaze drilled into me and I knew I’d chosen the wrong excuse. “Surely you can spare a few moments to talk to your closest neighbor.”

  Crap. Instead of running out the door, which is what every cell of my body was screaming for me to do, I settled into a chair. Glancing around the room, I asked the only question I could think of, “So, you have a reading tonight? I thought you only did the fortune-teller thing on weekends?”

  She chuckled. “Normally, I only have appointments on the weekend, but a good client asked for a favor. She’s out of town with her family this weekend and needed some guidance before she left.” Esmeralda’s face contorted in a look that appeared to be worry. “I feel like she’s gotten herself into a mess. One I warned her against.”

  “Sometimes people don’t listen.”

  She focused back on me. “Out of the mouths of babes.”

  Okay, this was getting creepy. I tried to change the subject. “You busy at the office these days?”

  “The current case is very interesting.” Esmeralda tapped her apparently now dry fingertips on the table. “I believe your Greg is going to have some hard choices to make in the near future. Are you willing to support him?”

  “Look, I really don’t like to talk about my relationship with Greg. Some things are private, you know?”

  She nodded. “I understand your reluctance. Let me do a quick reading with you. I’ve never looked at your future before.” She held out her palm. “Give me your left hand.”

  “I really can’t stay.”

  Her hand grabbed mine in a tight grip. “Let me thank you for bringing back my Maggie. Please?”

  I blew out air a little too hard but sat back in my chair. “Go ahead.”

  “You give up too easily.” Esmeralda’s grip loosened. She stared into the crystal ball and the thing started to cloud.

  This can’t be real. I stared into the mist, certain I could see the telltale signs of trickery. “I’d say I pick my battles carefully.”

  She chuckled. “You let things boil up, then you blow.”

  With my free hand, I pointed at the ball. “You can see that in there?”

  “Jill, we live in a small town. There isn’t anything about your daily life, or your history for that matter, that doesn’t come up in gossip somewhere.” She nodded back to the glowing orb on the table. “Now, be quiet so the spirits can reach me.”

&nbs
p; “Sorry.” I wished I could take back the word as soon as I saw her grin. Crap, she had me nailed on that personality trait. I’d always been the one to get along. My mom said I’d follow a crowd off the cliff if it meant I could be part of the group.

  She waved her free left hand over the ball in the center of the small table. “Oh, spirits, please answer our pleas. Show us what we need to see. Show us the future to keep us safe. Honor your living children here on this plain.”

  The table shook under my hands. When I looked up at Esmeralda to see if she’d felt the mini-earthquake, her eyes were cloudy, like the ball. “Are you okay?”

  “You’ll need to see past your pain in order to save the ones you love.” Her voice cracked and had dropped a couple of octaves. “Things aren’t what they seem.”

  I pressed my lips together, holding back a wisecrack. Typical fortune-teller speak. No real surprises here.

  “Some are silver, the other gold,” Esmeralda whispered and her head dropped. Our session was over.

  CHAPTER 6

  As Emma and I ran the next morning, I thought about my “reading.” Or at least the things Esmeralda had said before she went into her trance and started chanting camp songs. I’d been challenged by the partners at the law firm that I wasn’t strong enough. I’d had coworkers take my prime cases in the guise of helping out, then when the partners praised them in our weekly meetings, realized that somehow they’d become first chair on a case I’d brought to the firm. After the last incident I’d stormed into my mentor’s office and listed out all the inequities I’d had to face during my tenure. The woman smiled and nodded during my tirade.

  “I wondered when you’d see what was happening.” Her words stung. Had I been blind or naïve, allowing my peers to step over me and expecting someone else to stand up for my interests? She poured me another cup of coffee. “The only one who is looking out for you in this world is you. The other associates understand that. The partners want what’s best for the firm. You need to stand for what’s best for you.”

  Thinking back over the last few years, I realized I’d changed my pattern, along with the rest of my life. Today I wouldn’t roll like a well-worn tire. I’d do what I wanted, when I wanted. Now, all I had to do was figure out what it was I wanted. Crap, I sounded like a case study for all those self-help books I stocked. After the local history and tourist books, the “charm books” I called them, I sold more self-help tomes than any other specific category. How to find your Zen. How to raise a normal teenager. How to get that next promotion. Everyone wanted the easy answer. Bless the midday talk shows.

  Maybe there was one that addressed my problems. Like How to Grow a Backbone.

  By the time we’d returned home and I’d showered, my mood was less than cheerful. Typically my run cleared my mind of all the doubts I carried around. Today, it had added to them.

  I let Emma out to the yard, checked on her food and water, then power-walked into the shop, determined to seek out a book that could help me find my inner goddess.

  Toby looked up as I entered the shop. He’d been reading the newspaper and the shop was empty, a typical early morning shift. “You know you’re off today, right?”

  I stepped over to the counter. “Can’t a girl get a coffee without getting the third degree?”

  “A girl, sure. You, on the other hand, must have a reason to leave your cozy house before noon.” He started a skinny mocha for me. “Everything okay?”

  When Toby’s gaze didn’t meet my eyes, I started doubting my impulse. I should have waited until tomorrow, and no one would have been the wiser.

  After pulling off the two psychobabble books on the shelf that dealt with displaying confidence in relationships and finding your Zen, I glanced at my watch. Too early to call Amy for lunch, but I could stop by on my way home and visit for a few minutes. Besides, Greg hadn’t called last night, so I was beginning to think that Darla’s nose for news had been spot-on with Kent’s murder.

  “You want this to go?” Toby glanced at the books under my arm. “You doing some light reading today?”

  I shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with his scrutiny. “Let’s just say, I’ve been told I roll too fast when challenged. I figure learning some new tricks might not be a bad idea.”

  “Jackie been giving you trouble again?” He poured my mocha in a travel mug and handed it to me. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are. And I know one more person who’d say the same thing.”

  “I love that author.” Leslie from the bank tapped the top book titled Be a Tiger, Not a Kitty Cat, or what I would subtitle, “How to Be a Predatory Animal in the Office.” “We had the author come in for a bank conference I went to last summer. She’s a pistol. Doesn’t take crap from anyone.”

  The lady standing next to her nodded. “She told her manager to get his stuff together or she was reporting him to the corporate office. She got fired and sued the company. Then she wrote the book. I think she speaks all over the nation.”

  Great, I’d run into a true believer. I smiled. “Thanks for the reference. I’m sure I’ll love it.”

  The other woman shook her head. “I hated the book. I guess I’m just not that type of person. I’m not someone who would get in anyone’s face.”

  “Anne, you’re too nice. You should have sued Kent last summer when he started hitting on you.” Leslie leaned closer to the table. “He was a pig. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but I swear to God, the man should have been shot years ago.”

  “Leslie.” Anne’s face scrunched together, and I could see she was fighting tears. The woman’s blond hair was cut in a cute pixie. Not the redhead I’d seen Kent sucking face with in the car at the beach. The man was a pig, Leslie had gotten that part right.

  “Two large coffees and two slices of that black forest cheesecake.” Leslie put her hand on her friend’s arm. “I’ll get Anne settled at a table and be right back to pay.”

  Toby watched the two walk away. “I wonder if Greg knows about her. Man, that guy made me look like a choirboy.”

  “I take it you didn’t know about his multiple friends.” I kept my voice low and watched as Leslie and Anne argued quietly at the far table. “She doesn’t look like Kent’s type.”

  “I think she looks exactly like his type. Female. The man was a horndog, plain and simple. Sherry’s better off without him, even though from what Greg says, she’s pretty broken up about the whole thing.”

  I wanted to ask more about what they’d talked about, but the good side of me told me to trust my boyfriend. Greg hadn’t called last night because he was busy with the case, that was all. Still, I stalled. “So what’s going on with the case? I didn’t hear from your boss last night.”

  Toby held his hands up in mock surrender. “No way. You’re not getting me to tell you anything. Last time, Greg sat me down and explained confidentiality to me. For an hour. If you want gossip, you’re going to have to go directly to the source.”

  “Who said I wanted gossip?” I tried to sound casual, but Toby just laughed. “What?”

  “You don’t have an innocent look. Except for when you’re clueless about something. You want to know if Kent died of natural causes? You call Greg.”

  “Like he’s going to tell me anything,” I muttered under my breath. I glanced over at the table where Leslie and Anne were still arguing. “Seems like something struck a nerve there.”

  “Best Friend Bulldog Syndrome. They always have that one friend who will try to show them that the guy they’re dating is the devil.” He grinned. “And typically, they’re right, especially in this case.”

  “I take it you’ve run into this syndrome a time or two.”

  He shrugged. “A few times. I can’t say they were wrong, either. I was a pretty free spirit, but some of the chicks I dated, they thought the fun was going to end with a ring on their finger. I just knew the fun was going to end.”

  “Pig.” I smiled to soften the word.

  He held up three fingers in a Boy
Scout salute. “Reformed pig. Elisa has me tied around her little finger.”

  A noise drew my attention. Leslie stood behind me, her usually friendly face a mask. “Those coffees ready yet? We only have a short break.”

  Toby handed her the two coffees and nodded to the tray he’d placed the plates with the cheesecake on while we were talking. “I can carry this out for you.”

  Leslie flushed and set the coffees on the tray. “I can do it myself.”

  The bell over the door rang, and three of Toby’s regulars from the cosmetology school entered the shop giggling and heading straight to the counter.

  “Looks like you’re going to be busy. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I tucked the books under my arm and nodded to the women who were heading to the counter. “Good morning.”

  My greeting was lost as the three dashed to Toby. I opened the door onto the sunny spring day and headed down to talk to my own BFF. If she’d gotten to work today.

  As I passed Antiques by Thomas, Kyle Nabors greeted me as he swept the sidewalk. Kyle had been the intern Josh had reluctantly taken on over Christmas for the Work Today program in Bakerstown. Like Sasha, Kyle had been offered a real job because of this placement. I noticed Kyle had dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt today, a far cry from the leather and studs he’d shown up with last December.

  “Hey, Miss Gardner.” Kyle put his hand on the top of the broomstick and paused. “I didn’t think you worked on Fridays.”

  Did I mention South Cove was a small town? Seriously, where else would I be questioned about being out and about before noon on my day off? I held up the books. “Just stopped by for a bit of light reading.”

 

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