Elaine Viets & Victoria Laurie, Nancy Martin, Denise Swanson - Drop-Dead Blonde (v5.0) (pdf)

by Drop-Dead Blonde (epub)

  319 320 Victoria Laurie one fluid movement. ``I've got everything loaded onto my computer, so if you'll just--''

  ``Uh . . .'' I interrupted. ``About that, Zoe, you see, be-

  � fore we begin I'd just like to know a few things first--you know, so that I have a level of comfort with these `tests' as you call them.''

  ``Okay,'' Zoe said, slightly caught off guard but recov-

  � ering quickly. ``What would you like to know?''

  ``Well, first I'd like to know some background on you . . . like where you're based, what you're trying to accomplish, et cetera, et cetera.''

  ``Well, let's see . . .'' Zoe said, thinking. ``I come from

  � Kansas, and I'm a member of the faculty at the Institute for Metaphysical Studies, which is a school completely dedi- cated to helping naturally gifted intuitives develop their abilities while gathering evidence of psychic phenomena.''

  ``Uh-huh,'' I said, nodding my head as if fascinated. ``So tell me about this research. Why are you so intent on prov- ing the existence of our sixth sense?''

  ``Well, for one thing, our school doesn't get much in the way of funding, and if we were able to prove the existence of psychic phenomena then we would be eligible to win a two-and-a-half-million dollar prize that's currently up for grabs.''

  My brow crinkled, alarm bells clanging in my head. ``Two-and-a-half-million dollar prize?'' I asked carefully.

  ``Yes.'' Zoe nodded eagerly. ``In fact,'' she continued,

  � leaning forward conspiratorially, ``you know the woman who was murdered here this weekend?''

  ``Yes,'' I said almost casually.

  ``Well, she ran a foundation that had a trust fund set up for any person or institution that could scientifically prove the existence of psychic phenomena.''

  ``I see,'' I said. ``But now that she's dead, doesn't that pretty much nix your chances?''

  ``No, not at all. In fact, it actually improves them.''

  ``How?'' I asked, looking at Cat and Millicent, who were glued to the conversation and the direction it was going.

  ``Well, now that Celeste is dead, the trust will go to her heir, Gerald Ballentine. And I know for a fact that he's not nearly as critical of my research as his mother was. I figure I'll give him a little time to come to grips with what's BLIND SIGHTED 321 happened, and then submit my work. With any luck the check will be mine by next summer.''

  ``Uh-huh,'' I said, nodding. This woman was practically tripping over herself to throw the shadow of suspicion her way. ``So can I see this research?'' I asked, really curious to see some of her results.

  ``Sure!'' she said happily, and reached into her briefcase to extract several sheets of paper. ``These are the people I've tested over the years, and yours is right on top,'' she said, pointing to the top sheet.

  I looked over some of the pages, and was quite impressed with most of the results. Then, because I felt a tug from my intuition, I began to look more closely at my own test results. I was shocked to discover that my psychic IQ results had actually improved and expanded from the night before. ``Zoe?'' I asked, my brow furrowing slightly.

  �

  ``Yes?''

  ``On this page here,'' I said, swiveling the paper toward her, ``this is showing that I missed only one card out of four trials, when in fact I missed three cards between two trials.''

  Zoe immediately flushed red and snatched the page out

  � of my hand, ``Ah, yes . . . sorry about that. Must have been a keying error,'' she said quickly. Liar, liar . . . pants on fire . . .

  ``Really?'' I asked, my heart dropping, because in spite of myself I was starting to like her. ``Well, it happens.''

  ``So shall we begin?'' Zoe asked, tucking the papers away

  � and smiling innocently.

  ``Uh, okay . . .'' I said, wondering how I was going to get out of this now that I'd opened Pandora's box.

  Just then the patio door burst open and out came Deir- dre, who stormed over to our table and slapped her hand dramatically against her heart while pointing an accusing finger at Zoe as she bellowed, ``You! You're the

  � murderer!''

  ``What?'' The four of us gasped in unison.

  ``I've just been up to see Gerald, and he told me all about how you could hardly wait until Celeste was in her grave before you started asking about getting your dirty hands on her money! I've asked my guide, Great Wind Talker, to confirm it, and he insists that you murdered Ce- leste so that you could finally claim the prize!'' 322 Victoria Laurie

  ``That's ridiculous!'' Zoe said, standing up defensively. ``I

  � had nothing to do with it! I didn't kill Celeste--you did!''

  ``I did no such thing!'' Deirdre shouted back. ``I didn't do anything of the kind! But how convenient for you, Zoe, � I mean, now that Celeste is out of the way and all. Your research was turned down year after year. That must have just galled you, didn't it?''

  ``You don't know what you're talking about!''

  ``Oh, don't I? I know for a fact that you've been submit- ting your test scores for years, and you'd think that after all this time you would have figured out that it wouldn't have mattered how good your research results were; Ce- leste was never going to pay you! She was never going to pay anyone! The whole thing was a scam just to get publicity--''

  ``I've checked the records!'' Zoe screamed. ``The trust's

  � balance was public record! There was two and a half mil- lion dollars in the account!''

  ``Of course there was, honey,'' Deirdre said, her voice dripping with condescension. ``But as long as she could ben- efit from the interest--which she did--she was never going to pay that money out! Stupid girl, you've wasted all this time, and now that you've killed her you're still never going to get the money.''

  ``You're wrong!'' Zoe screamed, her face growing a bril-

  � liant shade of red as she folded up her computer and stuffed it back into its carrying case, ``You're wrong, wrong, wrong!'' And with that she stomped off, leaving us to make sense of the scene we'd just witnessed.

  When the patio door slammed shut behind Zoe, I looked

  � at Deirdre, who had taken a seat in one of the available lounge chairs and was looking at us expectantly. With mounting irritation I asked, ``What the hell did you think you were doing?''

  ``Excuse me?'' Deirdre said, looking down her nose in my direction.

  ``We were in the middle of getting some good informa- tion from her. She was willing to cooperate with us--that is, until you showed up with guns blazing like some scene out of Gunsmoke. What the hell were you thinking?''

  ``My guide, Great Wind Talker, told me she had some- thing to do with Celeste's murder--'' BLIND SIGHTED 323

  ``For Christ's sake, Deirdre! Drop the act already! You and I both know you're about as psychic as a doorknob! You can't hear your guide! He's never appeared to you, and he sure as hell isn't some old Indian chief with a name like `Great Wind Talker'! His real name, if you must know, is Fred, and in a former life he lived in Missouri . . . on a farm . . . growing wheat!''

  Deirdre looked at me for a long moment, her features unreadable, until finally she said, ``Did you just make that up?''

  I sighed heavily and replied, ``No, it came to me last night when you were onstage.''

  Deirdre's lower lip trembled a little, and her eyes grew a bit misty as she said softly, ``My mother used to tell this story about when I was a little girl and I had an imaginary friend named Fred who lived on a farm and grew hay for the horses.''

  ``Well, there you go then,'' I said gruffly, not really know- ing what else to say.

  ``So what do we do now?'' Millicent asked when the si- lence stretched out among us.

  All eyes turned to me for an answer, but all I could do was shrug my shoulders. ``Well, I'm not sure. I think we blew our chances getting anything useful out of Zoe . . .''

  �

  ``What other leads do we have?'' Deirdre asked.

  ``There's always Celeste's son,'' Cat sai
d reasonably. ``Maybe we could all go and give our condolences and ask him if he knows of anyone who may have wanted to hurt his mother.''

  ``You know, Cat, that's a really good idea,'' I said, brightening.

  ``So what are we waiting for?'' Deirdre asked, standing up.

  ``Oh, no,'' I said as I got up too. ``There's no way you're coming along.''

  ``What? Why not?'' Deirdre asked huffily.

  ``Because, dear, you don't know how to keep your big yap shut,'' Millicent answered, and flashed Deirdre her sweetest smile as she shuffled past.

  Cat and I both nodded and trundled after Millicent, leav- ing Deirdre standing there with her hands on her hips, her eyes making holes in the backs of our heads. 324 Victoria Laurie

  * * *

  Ten minutes and another room-number purchase later we were in front of Gerald's door, with Millicent doing the honors of knocking and being the point person. The door opened quickly after just a few taps, and there stood Ger- ald, looking like he'd been kicked in the stomach, his eyes bloodshot and weepy, the sound of a television blaring ESPN in the background of his room. ``Yes?'' he asked softly, looking at each of us, trying to place our faces.

  ``Hello, dear,'' Millicent began. ``We're so sorry to trou- ble you like this after you've experienced such a terrible loss. . . .''

  ``Thank you,'' Gerald said, politely nodding his head and wiping at his eyes. ``I'm sorry; who are you, exactly?''

  ``Where are my manners?'' Millicent said lightly. ``I'm Millicent Satchel, and up until your dear mother, Celeste, got up onstage the other night I was a devoted fan of Deir- dre Pendleton's. Do you know I almost bought a ticket to her Hawaiian retreat? And I'd even booked a reading with her for later in the month. Can you imagine what she would have taken me for?''

  Gerald looked uncomfortably at Millicent, unsure where the conversation was leading and probably wondering what, if anything, it had to do with him. ``I see,'' he said tentatively.

  ``So you see, dear, we just wanted to come up here and express to you our deepest sympathies. If not for your dear mother doing her diligence, so many more people could have been taken for a ride. And we're also so deeply sad- dened that her commitment led to such tragedy.''

  ``Thank you,'' Gerald said, wiping his fatigued face. ``I'm just so relieved the police have fingered Deirdre Pendleton as their prime suspect,'' he added, his voice growing sud- denly darker.

  ``Yes, I know,'' Millicent agreed, slightly startled by the venom in his voice. ``But may I ask you why you're so sure Deirdre is responsible?''

  ``Well, for one thing, she had motive. She hated my mother,'' Gerald answered.

  ``Yes, your mother did ruin her career.''

  Gerald barked out a laugh that was short and hard. ``No, not because of that; although that would have been reason BLIND SIGHTED 325 enough. See, Deirdre hated my mother because her father, my granduncle, loved Mother more than Deirdre.''

  ``Come again?'' I asked, completely confused.

  ``It's not really public knowledge,'' Gerald explained, ``but Deirdre and my mother were first cousins.''

  ``You're joking,'' Cat sputtered.

  ``No, it's true,'' Gerald insisted, ``Years ago my grandun- cle Jerome, Deirdre's father, had a huge falling out with her. It was right after Aunt Deirdre claimed to have all of these so-called psychic abilities, and my granduncle--a true-blue atheist--refused to have anything more to do with her.

  ``Then, a few years later, when she published her first book and basically lambasted him, he got even by setting up a prize to be held in trust for anyone who could prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that psychic phenomena really existed. The one rule he put on the reward was that it couldn't go to a family member.

  ``To add further insult to the daughter who turned on him, right after he and Aunt Deirdre had their falling out, Uncle Jerome and my mother became very close, so it wasn't a surprise when he named mother executrix of the trust, and for an extra bonus, even made her his sole legal heir.

  ``Uncle Jerome was a very wealthy man--worth millions, in fact--and by making my mother the sole heir to his estate it guaranteed that, other than watching over the trust fund for a possible winner, my mother would never have to work a day in her life.

  ``So the other night, when Aunt Deirdre saw Mother up onstage, revealing her for the fraud she really is, I can only imagine that it must have galled her to no end to see her own family exposing to the world what a liar she really is.''

  ``Wow,'' was all I could muster as we soaked in Gerald's story. ``We had no idea.''

  ``No one did. Both women wanted to keep the truth about the family tree quiet for professional reasons. Mother was highly connected in our community, and she really didn't want anyone to know someone like Deirdre came from our family. We come from a long line of devout athe- ists, after all, and I'm sure Aunt Deirdre wanted to keep it on the down-low for the very same reasons. But after my 326 Victoria Laurie mother found out that Deirdre was affecting people's lives . . . well, she just couldn't take it anymore and decided to show up here to expose the fraud. And now she's dead, and although the police have named Deirdre their prime suspect, she's still out there, roaming around fee and proba- bly gloating.''

  ``I can assure you she's not gloating,'' I said quickly. Es- pecially not after I got through with her. ``We apologize for having disturbed you, Gerald, and we're even sorrier for your loss.''

  ``Thank you,'' he said, and moved back into the room, ready to shut the door.

  Just as he was about to close the door something oc- curred to me, and I quickly stepped close again. ``Just one more thing, Gerald. I'm sorry to bring this up at such an awful time, but I want you to be aware that Zoe Schmitt's

  � research results are skewed, and I suspect that she may have made up or exaggerated many of the results. I want to add that I would love nothing more than to have psychic phenomena proven true once and for all, but I'd rather have it done on honest research and wait a few dozen years than have it flounder on a fraud.''

  Gerald looked at me quizzically for a long moment, then said, ``Thank you, miss. I appreciate your bringing this to my attention, and I'll take care of it immediately.''

  I gave him my sincerest smile as I turned away and walked with purpose back toward the elevators.

  ``Where are we going now?'' Cat asked.

  ``To throttle a certain `internationally renowned psy- chic,' '' I replied, using finger quotes as I ticked off the last three words.

  ``Uh-oh,'' Cat said as she hurried after me. ``That's never good.''

  ``This is the best vacation ever,'' Millicent said happily. ``Wait until I tell Ernie!''

  We found Deirdre still sitting on the patio, gazing mood- ily out at the gulf. I didn't bother to mince words as I approached her and caught her eye, ``Hello, Deirdre,'' I sang, ``Or should I call you `cousin?' ''

  ``Excuse me?'' Deirdre asked, unsure about my tone and manner, which were quickly approaching hostile. BLIND SIGHTED 327

  ``Why didn't you tell us you and Celeste were cousins?'' I demanded.

  ``Who told you that?'' Deirdre asked sharply as she looked around to see if anyone else had overheard.

  ``It doesn't matter who told me. Now answer the question!''

  ``It was Gerald,'' Millicent added helpfully. ``He told us, and he told us about the money your father left to Ce- leste, too.''

  Deirdre's reaction startled all three of us; she actually laughed. ``Did he now? Well, that's rich, no pun intended,'' she said, and giggled some more.

  ``What's so funny?'' I demanded.

  ``Don't you see? Don't you get it?'' Deirdre said through a fit of giggles. ``It's just so hilarious!''

  ``What's hilarious?'' Cat asked sitting down and looking at Millicent and me to see if we got the joke or were as much in the dark as she was.

  Deirdre was now clutching her sides and wiping her eyes at the effort the laugh was causing her. For the life of me I had no idea what she was talking about. Finally she calmed down long enough
to motion to Millicent and me to sit, and then she began to fill us in. ``Yes, it's true that Celeste and I were first cousins, a secret I would have pre- ferred to take to my grave. It's just so embarrassing, you know? Your first cousin is your mortal enemy and repre- sents all that's antithetical to your cause. I mean, I come from a long line of atheists, if you can believe it. Not ex- actly the best pedigree for a psychic out there promoting herself.''

  ``Is that why you didn't tell us you two were cousins?'' Millicent asked.

  ``Yes, my reputation got thrown into the crapper enough this weekend. I didn't need the world to know that Celeste was my cousin and have the toilet flush on what's left of my career.''