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The Lotus Circle Publication
www.thelotuscircle.com
I’m Okay, You’re a Fake ISBN 9781419980039 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. I’m Okay, You’re a Fake Copyright© 2007 Cheryl Dragon Edited by Shannon Combs. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication October 2007
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Jasmine-Jade Enterprises, 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
I’M OKAY, YOU’RE A FAKE Cheryl Dragon
Dedication For my mother who shared her love of reading.
Acknowledgements Special thanks to my crit partner, Joanna Waugh, for taking on the snakes with me. And to my editor, Shannon Combs, who keeps me in line and catches all those little things I never seem to find.
Trademark Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Armani: GA Modefine S.A. Corporation Baileys: R & A Bailey & Co Unlimited Company Barbie: Mattel, Inc. BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke Buffy: Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation Bugs Bunny: Warner Bros. Inc. Corporation Cadillac Eldorado: General Motors Corporation Chicago Bears: Chicago Bears Football Club, Inc. Chicago Cubs: Chicago National League Ball Club, Inc. Chicago White Sox: Chicago White Sox, Ltd. Crocs: Crocs Inc. Corporation Dr. Pepper: Dr. Pepper Company Dior: Christian Dior Couture Doritos: Frito-Lay North America, Inc. Formica: Formica Corporation Jeep: DaimlerChrysler Corporation Jim Beam: Jim Beam Brands Co. Corporation Hummer: General Motors Corporation Kel-Tec .380: Kel-Tec CNC Industries, Inc. Kool-Aid: Kraft Foods Holdings Inc. Looney Tunes: Warner Bros., Inc. Corporation Manolo Blahnik: Blahnik, Manolo Nair: Carter-Wallace, Inc. New Orleans Saints: New Orleans Saints Partnership Oxygen Network: O2 Holdings, LLC Patron: The Patron Spirits Company Smith & Wesson: Smith & Wesson Corp. Star Trek: Paramount Pictures Corporation Tulane University: The Administrators of the Tulane Educational Fund Corp. Wrangler: DaimlerChrysler Corporation Wrigley Field: Chicago National League Ball Club, Inc.
Cheryl Dragon
Chapter One Mothers were a force to be reckoned with and that included Mother Nature! That thought echoed in my brain as I stood in the middle of the lavish party at my neighbors’, the Weathers’, mansion in the Garden District of New Orleans. Less than a year ago Katrina had demonstrated that Mother Nature could defeat what mankind made anytime she wanted. But the old homes near Tulane University still stood. Money had repaired and refurnished them. My house ghosts had saved all of my late Grandmother Oscar’s prized possessions in the mansion that was now my home. Everyone was trying to get back to normal. And in the historic old homes of society days, that meant parties. Technically they were called balls, but I was a middle-class girl from Chi-town. “You look just lovely, Deanna!” gushed Mary Lou Weathers. Second hostess in command under her mother-in-law, Mary Lou had orchestrated the affair. She’d been the Southern belle to welcome me when I took over my grandmother’s mansion and psychic detective lifestyle. That was me, Deanna Oscar—psychologist and psychic. Of course, it was my birthday and for the first time in my life, my mother hadn’t called me. It was odd but I was an adult. It was in the back of my mind, however. There was something very wrong with my whole mom situation. Mothers. Some didn’t even realize their power. Sort of like a category-five hurricane. “Thanks. The dress is great,” I said. A soft blue A-line, by a designer so famous I’d actually heard of him, had been picked out by Mary Lou and would be auctioned off for charity. Inheriting a fortune hadn’t exactly changed my style or perspective. I felt just like I was at the prom. “It is your birthday. And what a sweet idea you had to make it all for charity. After all you did during Katrina, it’s only fair you get something. You wouldn’t even take any recognition from the press.” I didn’t like where this was going. “Mary Lou, this isn’t about me or my birthday. You promised. This is about getting people out of FEMA trailers.” I knew she had a cake somewhere but Mary Lou had to do parties her way. “Hell yes!” Ivy Delacroix, the Latina drag queen and former caretaker of my late Gran, jumped in the conversation wearing a floor-length gown that glittered in purple and gold. She held up a T-shirt. “Check it out! We’re selling these for the next disaster when they still haven’t fixed the levies.” “Forget FEMA. Send Oprah!” Mary Lou read from the cotton fabric. “I want one!” I grabbed it and admired the picture on the back of Oprah in the Superdome.
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Mary Lou shook her perfectly made-up Barbie head at me. “You didn’t even need FEMA, De. Your house ghosts had it all cleaned up before you got back.” “Lucky me. Oprah’s still the goddess of Chicago and came down here to help. Show some respect.” I remained largely loyal to my hometown and blue-collar roots despite my elevation to the rich and blue-blooded ranks of New Orleans. Two things ruled Chicago—Oprah and sports. Ivy curtsied to the shirt and earned a laugh from both me and Mary Lou. A born performer, she’d had a regular gig at the Long and Big Easy drag club until Katrina flooded the French Quarter. The club’s reopening was scheduled for late next week. I looked forward to that more than this stuffy affair. “If it weren’t for Deanna, Greg and I would’ve stayed. And we’d be homeless. Our apartments got bulldozed a month ago.” Ivy wrapped a muscled arm around my shoulders. “I haven’t seen Greg.” Mary Lou looked around to change the subject. I shrugged. “Me either.” Greg was Ivy’s cousin and had been Gran’s backup when she was busting ghosts. He’s sexy but an ex-priest, and my Catholic schoolgirl sensibilities had, as of yet, prevented my being anything more than friends with him. “He’s here somewhere. Probably trying to drum up contributions for Tulane. Half the faculty and students haven’t come back yet.” Ivy’s mood dropped. “He really wants you to take that part-time job teaching in the psychology department. You’ve got the credentials and they’re short-staffed.” “Let me recover from the recovery and we’ll talk.” I had two PhDs in psychology and was generally referred to as the psychic shrink. Since I’d come to New Orleans, I hadn’t done much psychology, at least not on the living. “Speaking of which…” Mary Lou disappeared. I turned to Ivy. “What is she up to?” “Relax, sweetie. It’s a party! I’ve got to go sell more shirts for charity. Happy birthday!” Ivy danced away. “Thanks.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that this crowd probably wasn’t the best buyers. This was the set that either fled early or stayed with their homes and family heirlooms, defending them with shotguns against looters and cops alike. FEMA didn’t dare approach them. Mary Lou returned with a woman who looked like she needed a drink and a dozen doughnuts. She was tall and bone-thin, her gaze pierced me. “De, this is Lara Gordon. She’s a reporter doing some freelance stuff here for local press and a little TV. She’s been dying to interview you. This is Dr. Deanna Oscar. Psychic, psychologist, heiress and hero.” I glared at Mary Lou, silently threatening to punish her. “Why?” “I’m looking for the happy stories. The positive and uplifting yet average people. The police said you were a great help identifying trapped people who hadn’t broken
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through their roofs.” Lara produced a tiny tape recorder from her purse. “Did you stay through the hurricane?” I looked Miss Priss up and down. She wore a simple black dress that even I could tell was seasons out of style. More likely out to make a name for herself than to tell the story of the average people. I had no desire to be her story but Mary Lou’s pleading gaze was boring into me. “I’ll answer a few questions but I’m not interested in being on TV or in any stories. Understand?” “Of course. May I tape this?” Ms. Gordon was lying to me. I didn’t even need to be psychic to see the shiftiness. At least if she taped it, hopefully she’d get all my quotes right. “Sure. Tape away.” Mary Lou sneaked off and left me in the clutches of the press. She’d pay. “Did you stay through Katrina?” “Did you miss the part where I’m psychic? Why would I stay for that?” “You saw the hurricane in a vision?” “No. I saw the flooding. The water. I saw it before Katrina had a name. My friends and I were safe in a Vegas hotel a week before it hit. I warned the police but everyone swore the levies would hold.” Remembering all the water made me feel queasy. “You didn’t believe it?” I moved to the side so we weren’t in dessert-table traffic anymore and found a large chair where I sat. Ms. Gordon could stand for all I cared. “I don’t know a levy from a luau. Lake Michigan doesn’t come out and attack us. My visions don’t lie.” “Right. I read you were from the Midwest. Your background is very interesting. So you were in Vegas for the storm but you returned very shortly after.” How did she know my background? I looked around for someone to save me. No one. What a birthday! “About two days. It took that long to get a flight into Baton Rouge and then I drove down. I had to buy a Hummer because the flooding was too much for a regular car. I packed it full of supplies, a generator and headed home.” “You drove a Hummer from Baton Rouge to New Orleans? The police let you in?” “Sure. They asked me to come back. Finding people was hard and they couldn’t bust open every roof to check for trapped living. I cut down on time and hours spent.” “So you psychically saw that people were alive in the houses?” Ms. Gordon listened intently to every word. “That was pretty much it. My house wasn’t ruined so I moved back home and had a lot of cops and rescue workers staying with me.” “And you felt safe?” “I was armed.” I opened my delicate blue purse and showed her a two-shot derringer. “I always am. Legally.” “Interesting. Do you feel less safe in New Orleans after the storm with all the looting and crime?”
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“No. Psychologically speaking you couldn’t expect anything else. You take away the structure of civilization and humans revert to our more animal instincts for survival. Saving your life, getting food and water for your family and protecting your life—that’s human nature. I carried a weapon before all of this because I was consulting on a murder case with the NOPD and had a killer after me. Good habits die hard.” I stood up. “Thanks for taking the time but I need to get back to the party.” Ms. Gordon started to object but took the hint. “Of course. Two more quick questions.” “Shoot.” “Many people feel this is a sign. That human beings need to clean up their lives or we’ll suffer worse natural disasters. Do you agree?” I stifled a groan. “Are you from a religious organization?” “No. This devastation has a lot of people questioning the world. I’m not afraid to tackle that issue.” “The rapture. Armageddon. I’ve heard it. If you’re asking if I see the end of the world, no.” My home had been inundated with calls about the end of the world and the repenting. I only answered the calls about missing people. “You don’t believe it was a call to change our lives?” “No. I believe it was a big storm. If you want the technical explanation, go interview a meteorologist. If the levies had held we wouldn’t have had nearly as much devastation.” I started to leave. “One more please.” I paused but didn’t turn back to face her. “Do you know a Muriel Jennings?” I scanned my brain. “Never heard of her.” Without another word I walked away and found the bartender. John Weathers appeared at my side. “How’s it going?” “Lousy.” He brightened it up a bit with broad shoulders and a charming smile. The youngest of the Weathers boys, he was already a local judge. His oldest brother Matt was the police detective I’d helped on my first case in the Big Easy. His middle brother was a shark attorney married to Mary Lou. John was the closest thing to male attention I had since moving south. The best part was he didn’t try to change me or tell me what to do. “Need a drink?” John nodded to the bar. I turned to the bartender. “Just a diet pop please.” Over the years I’d found alcohol dulled my sixth sense. When I wanted to block it, I could drink my share but generally avoided it. “A splash of rum?” the bartender offered. I held up my fingers requesting just a pinch. If John and the bartender both were
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suggesting it, I must’ve looked like I needed it. The reporter’s last question bugged me. Muriel Jennings? Maybe she was someone I’d located. I didn’t get to meet them all. He handed me a rum and diet pop with a lime wedge. “Thank you.” I sipped slowly. “A reporter?” John asked. “Mary Lou is a dead woman.” “The bad part about that solution is she’d haunt you.” John took a beer from the bartender and deposited a generous tip. “Damn. This psychic thing can really be a curse.” I rolled my neck to relax. Back in familiar company, I didn’t have to play defense on every word. Lance, Mary Lou’s husband, stalked up. “I’ll take that curse right now. Can’t find that wife of mine. Have you seen her?” “Not for the last fifteen minutes or so. She left me with that evil reporter woman.” “An influential judge wants his wife to meet her and she goes missing. Katrina blew this state wide open politically and she disappears.” He turned to the bartender. “Scotch neat.” “Did you check upstairs? Maybe something got broken or spilled,” John suggested. “I can’t go searching every inch of this house and leave the judge to find someone else.” Lance had a short temper and fewer manners for those without political influence. Mary Lou had been a poor debutante and former beauty queen who married money and a name. In my opinion, she picked the worst of the three brothers. I let my mind wander, feeling the house for Mary Lou. The second floor was right but she wasn’t alone. What I sensed wasn’t an innocent spill. “You go handle the judge. We’ll go find Mary Lou.” I tugged on John’s arm. “Sure.” John led me off. “Need a break from the crowd?” “I hope that’s all it is.” We headed up the stairs and my certainty grew. Mary Lou wasn’t the good Southern belle she played. At least not at the moment. “Is she okay?” John whispered. “Yes. Just not decent.” I stopped outside a guest-bedroom door. The Weathers house was similar to the setup of mine. First floor was all entertaining and public show. Second floor was bedrooms and private sanctuary. The sounds coming from the room were unmistakable. “You don’t want Lance to find her in there, do you?” “She wouldn’t.” “Stranger things have happened.” I wasn’t proud of my friend but I’d seen Lance’s temper and I couldn’t do that to her. Even after the reporter. The dead really were so much easier to deal with than the living. “You’re kidding?” “Right, my new career is a stand-up comic not a psychic.” I leaned with my back to
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the wall next to the ornate door and waited. John gestured to the door. “Are we just going to wait?” “The door isn’t locked.” I instigated with the best of them. “It’s too late now. They’re already…” “Chicken.” I knew he wouldn’t do it. John wasn’t the type to intrude and I had the feeling he didn’t want to see Mary Lou naked. He always treated her very sisterly. “What should I do?” he asked. “You better do something because Lance is coming up the stairs.” I covered for my friends. It was girl code. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t rake her over the coals for it later. It’s my birthday party and she was screwing Greg, the guy I almost slept with not a year ago. Seriously, we’d have a chat. John reached for the knob but froze. It was like a bad movie waiting for him to make a decision. Let his brother find the truth or spare a scene at the party? Patience wasn’t one of my virtues. I reached over and knocked loudly on the door. The banging of the headboard stopped. Low voices and scrambling could be heard. I couldn’t resist. I turned the knob and leaned in. “Hi. How’s it going?” “De!” Mary Lou was pissed. “Yeah, I know. Fun for all of us. But your hubby is at the top of the stairs and very determined to find you. I’d be doing something other than an ex-priest right about now if I were you.” “De, do you mind?” Greg had just been blue-balled. Poor thing was covering up with nothing but a bedsheet. Nice body. Maybe someday I’d get over the creep factor but not anytime soon. “And you, Father Greg. Shame on you.” John hadn’t said a word. Okay, so Mary Lou was in some slinky slip thing. She wasn’t totally naked or anything. However, John’s face was red and I felt for the guy. No man wants to find his sister or sister-in-law like that. “Let’s go.” I tugged on his jacket. Unfortunately Lance was quicker down the hall than I’d thought. As I reached to close the door, his arm pushed it open. He didn’t fly into the rage like I thought. It was almost scarier to see him stone-faced. “My mother is looking for you, Deanna. Almost time to blow out your candles and cut the cake.” Lance’s eyes never left the scene in the room. “Okay. Thanks.” I grabbed John’s jacket and yanked him down the staircase. I knew enough about Greg to believe he wouldn’t let Lance hurt Mary Lou, no matter how mad they were. However, I heard a punch as we descended the grand staircase. Lance would hit Greg. Once I made it to the main floor, I found Ivy and whispered in her ear. She took off like a shot in her spiked heels. No one messed with Ivy’s family and Lance was no
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match for the both of them. In a fight, Ivy and her friends were the best possible backup. With the upper-body strength of buff gay men, they also had the tenacious fighting style of women. “What the hell were they thinking?” John’s daze finally broke. “That it’s better we found them before Lance. It’s not our fault.” I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Yeah. Come on. Party time.” He offered me his arm. I rolled my eyes at the gesture. It was a little Gone with the Wind for me. But I took his arm. “Have you ever heard of a woman named Muriel Jennings?” That reporter’s question still bugged me. “No. Why?” “No reason.” I ignored the nagging name and bad vibes. There was a lavish party to deal with. But I knew I wasn’t done with that reporter Lara or Muriel Jennings, whoever she was.
***** Back at the party I spotted Gran, an attendee few others would see since she was dead and just a spirit visiting. She hovered very close to some other familiar faces that weren’t dead but were much more disturbing than any ghosts I’d ever met—and I’d met some pretty evil ghosts. The blood drained from my face and my hands shook slightly. My parents and two brothers were standing in the back looking totally out of place, underdressed and uneasy with the situation. What the hell were they doing here? “Why are my parents here?” I couldn’t stand it in any longer. They had no interest in Gran, the New Orleans estate or psychics. Were they hostages? “We couldn’t not invite them. It’s not just a party, it’s your birthday party.” John shrugged. Mary Lou swooped in from the other side, all smiles as though nothing had happened upstairs. “They were a tad reluctant at first so I got them tickets and two nice rooms at the Garden District Hotel. They couldn’t say no.” That was the Weathers way. Throw money at a problem until it gave in. Seemed to work. That hotel was one of the most expensive in the area. “You really shouldn’t have. They don’t like this stuff.” “Parties?” Mary Lou played dumb. “Me. Me being a psychic out in the open. They’re going to freak.” “I thought you said you were over them judging you. You told them.” Mary Lou’s smug smile was irritating. “Sure, and it’s fine from Chicago. That’s a nice buffer zone. Now you brought them
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here, ground zero for ghosts and crap. And I have to deal with them.” “So they can see for themselves.” Mary Lou nodded smartly. “Thanks, but it’s not a matter of proof so much as comfort. No. I have to deal faceto-face. They always knew what I was, what Gran was. They just wanted to ignore it. I’m actually shocked they came.” Mary Lou wasn’t backing off party mode. “The cake is out for admirers. Be back in ten minutes to put out the candles.” The mass of people was thick but I could feel my family without seeing them. They were camped out by the dessert display. It wasn’t one table. It was a work of art. All of Bourbon Street was made out of sugar, pastries, cookies and cakes. It was the perfect place for my brothers to camp out and stuff their faces. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” I forced myself not to fidget or slouch. “Hey, De, how’s tricks?” Frank was my younger brother, all of twenty-one and still in college for some marketing degree. Of everyone in the family, he gave me the least amount of shit. But that was always because I could scare him the easiest. “Not bad.” I hugged my tree of a brother. Six foot three and built like a football player. That was Frank. Eddie was in between me and Frank at twenty-three years old. He suffered none of that middle child syndrome, however. He’d been the adored one. Frank was the baby. I was the weirdo who turned twenty-seven today. That was my take on it anyway. Eddie planned to follow Dad to the steel mills, though not as a laborer but in some dull management job once he was done with his MBA. “Guess you’re a celebrity now?” he asked. “Hardly a celebrity. I’ve only helped in one case. Just trading on Gran’s reputation.” “So it’s true?” Frank was curious. “Yep. Gran’s here at the party.” “Cool.” Frank was the only one who seemed enthused. “Are you sure about this?” Mom’s restraint was gone. A saint of a housewife, she held her tongue plenty in public. Tongue-lashings were always in private. But I knew she wouldn’t like this. “Sure? I’ve always been sure. And you knew. At least Dad knew. I wasn’t lying, or faking or anything like that when I was a kid. It was all real. And Gran was perfectly sane.” My fingers itched to twist a piece of my hair but I fought my little quirks that Mom would comment on. “That doesn’t mean it’s safe,” Dad cut in. “I can take care of myself. Jesus Christ, I’m closing in on thirty.” I kept my voice low but stern. “Don’t swear.” It was Mom’s script. “Don’t correct me,” I shot back without a pause.
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“You really caught a serial killer?” Frank tried to change the subject. “The police caught him, I just helped track him. It’s not like I’m Buffy out there slaying anything.” A change of subject was a good idea. “I’m surprised you guys came. Dad got the time off work?” “I retired. Company offered us an unexpected package. I couldn’t pass it up.” He seemed less tense on that topic. “Congrats. What’ll you do now?” Dad was a workaholic and barely fifty years old. He couldn’t sit around and do nothing. I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. I shouldn’t but I had my reasons…alcohol dampened my abilities for psychic stuff. This drink would also dampen my parents’ effect on me—I hoped. “I never sold the gun shop your grandfather owned. Thought I’d take over running it. Still turns a profit.” The silence was uncomfortable but Frank would fix it, he always did. Curse of being the baby. “Did you really inherit a mansion and a ton of cash?” Frank didn’t have a lot of tact. “Pretty much.” I smiled at Dad. To him money was how things were measured in life and now I had more than he did. In his world, I’d won…but he’d still play the dad card when he could. At least it’d be harder from Chicago. When were they going back? It was too soon to ask that. “You should buy the White Sox and rename their park something better.” Eddie’s commentary tracking back to sports meant he’d lost interest in the rest. “Grandpa took us to Cubs games.” I left off the fact that he’d only taken me because Mom made him. I never figured out if he avoided me because of my skills or because I was a girl, but I went just because he didn’t want me there. “Grandpa came from down here, he could pick either team. But we grew up on the south side, De.” Eddie was a Chicago boy to the core. North side and south side meant something and cross-town rivalry was more than just about baseball. “Show some loyalty. At least if I bought Wrigley Field we could protect it so no one could screw up that one.” I rolled my eyes and made a mental note to buy my brothers the best season tickets to the Cubs. They’d use them. Gran and Grandpa showed up behind my family, smiling. If they were happy, I was moving on. I couldn’t spend the whole night being weird with my family. “I have to go mingle and blow out the candles.” “Can we see the house?” Frank jumped in. “Sure, come by whenever. Right next door.” I owed it to my brothers to let them see Gran’s picture and everything. She was their family too. Plus, I’d get to freak them out with the house ghosts. “See you later.” I turned and spotted Ivy having an animated conversation with a group of politicians’ wives. I saw Lance in a close conversation with Mary Lou in another corner. They’d never make a public scene but I wanted no part of any of it.
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I decided to impose on Ivy for company. I could tell she was recounting the time the haunted objects got loose from the storeroom and took over my house. It was her favorite. She was the star, who held down the fort until Greg and I arrived. In reality, I’d found her praying in the pantry. But drama was the gift of every drag queen. “And she still came back the next day,” I added at the end of her tale. Ivy hugged me. “Did we surprise you?” “Of course, stunned.” I smiled at her knowingly. “We had to do something special for your birthday. How are the parents?” she whispered. “Tolerable. But we’re in public.” I turned to the ladies and found out who they were and what they did, or what their husbands did as the case may be. It was dull, but they were nice enough. All were curious if they had ghosts around them. None did. Most of the time ghosts and spirits had better things to do on the Other Side. That’s when John came to save me. “Where have you been?” “Talking to your parents.” He gave the ladies a wave and got a very positive response. “What? Why?” I’d explained to him how they were. The last thing I wanted was for him to experience it without a buffer. I liked John more than that. “Stop it, they’re nice people.” “They make the dead look low-maintenance.” I exhaled and tried not to imagine any conversation he’d had with them. “Can I finally get a dance with the birthday girl?” The ladies oohed and aahed. John was nice and cute…but the judge thing made him high profile. He didn’t seem to care if people thought he was dating a psychic detective but I thought it might hurt his career. Technically, we weren’t dating. Between serial killers and category-five hurricanes we didn’t really have time. I finished my drink and set it on the tray of a passing waiter. “Sure.” John escorted me into the ballroom like it was prom. The dance floor was crowded. People seemed to love a Weathers’ party. “You okay?” He held me a bit tighter. “Fine. It had to happen eventually.” I’d hoped for more time to brace myself before seeing the family. “They wouldn’t have come if they didn’t love you.” “They love me. I love them. That doesn’t mean they won’t still try to talk me out of this life. And they came because Mary Lou pushed them. I could strangle her.” And the cake and candles were supposed to be happening by now but things rarely ran on time. The South lacked the urgency I’d grown up on in Chicago. Here running fifteen minutes late was being perfectly on time. “Mary Lou has her reasons. Try to enjoy yourself, you’re so tense.”
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“It’s a formal party. How else am I supposed to be? This isn’t something I’ve done a lot in life.” I lifted a bare shoulder and checked to make sure the girls didn’t escape. The top was low, but fitted. Still, this was a birthday, not a coming-out party. I was selfconscious and the dress didn’t feel right. I was a jeans-and-T-shirt girl most of the time. I took a deep breath and listened to the music. Letting the warmth of John’s hard frame soothe my nerves, I started to actually relax a bit as we danced. But it couldn’t last. The name Muriel Jennings flashed through my mind again.
***** They actually gave me a tiny fire-extinguisher-shaped device that blew air when squeezed since apparently a lady wouldn’t blow out candles like a common kid. After the candles on my massive birthday cake were extinguished, I hid out in a corner of the ballroom with a big slice of red velvet cake with thick cream cheese icing. The chef deserved a huge bonus. It was beyond rich and one of the Louisiana things I really liked. I felt someone’s gaze on me. Just because I was the birthday girl didn’t mean people got to stare. Logic said Greg would be pissed and looking for me but his wasn’t the gaze I detected. The crowds were grouped here and there, talking while the band took a break. Through the various faces, I managed to pick out my stalker. I turned on my little silver heels and came face-to-face with a fifty-something woman. Average height with a motherly look about her. “Muriel Jennings.” I smiled to hide my skeptical eye. “Deanna Oscar, I’ve heard so much about you.” Muriel extended a hand. I shook it and felt a spark of energy. Then a flash momentarily blinded me. Once my eyes could focus, I saw Lara pocket a slim digital camera. “Do you mind?” I gave Lara a look of annoyance. “Two great psychic mediums meet.” Lara made notes in her little notebook. I didn’t like the direction of any of this. “I never claimed to be great.” Muriel shrugged. “Neither did I. But publicity helps us help people.” I was all for helping people. There was no way I could say no when people were in danger. But I didn’t need publicity. Visions told me who needed help. “There’s such a thing as too much publicity.” “Never!” Lara said. “But don’t you want everyone to know your message?” Muriel was serious. I sat in a nearby chair and sipped my diet pop. “Message? I didn’t know I had a message. No, I really don’t have one. I don’t work that way.” She sat down next to me. “Don’t you help people find their true path? So they can get closer to the true universal power.”
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The words holy and roller sprang to mind. Lovely. A preaching psychic. “I don’t do that sort of help. I stick more to saving lives and solving hauntings or crimes.” “I do that as well. But people are full of doubt. You don’t have a religious ideology?” Muriel’s face scrunched with disapproval. “I was raised Catholic.” And like most, I’d rebelled to become a liberal with a sex life. “You see, you have faith.” Her voice didn’t ring of opposition. There was no polite way out of this weird conversation. Lara watched us carefully. “Faith helps when I’m dealing with an evil ghost but I really don’t let it impact my work in other ways. I’m an equal opportunity psychic.” “Of course I welcome all people as well but you have to lead them to what’s right.” “I’m not a leader. Religious or otherwise. I don’t do readings. I don’t take money. All I do is try to stop bad things.” “I see. Well, we can’t all inherit millions. You keep ghosts with you?” At least it was a subject change. “I have a couple house ghosts who are around when I need them. And Gran.” On cue, Gran in her glowing spirit form showed up and frowned at Muriel. I smiled at her, knowing we were both slightly pained. “How about a little demonstration?” Muriel asked. “I don’t control ghosts or spirits. They have free will.” I hated feeling like a magic act. We were beginning to draw a crowd. “You can’t ask them?” Lara butted her nose in. “Fine. What do you want?” I rolled my eyes at Gran who nodded in return. “How about cutting you a piece of cake and bringing it over,” Lara suggested. “I already had cake but okay. Gran, please?” Without complaining, Gran cut a piece of cake and brought it over. To others, it looked like the cake moved through thin air. I couldn’t touch ghosts, at least not on this side, but ghosts could touch objects and so could I. As I took the cake from Gran, I let it wobble in my hand and slip into Muriel’s lap. “Sorry. I’m not always great at the handoff.” It was a lie but Muriel’s gray dress had dark purple frosting on it now. “It’s nothing.” Muriel took a napkin and dabbed hard at the frosting—not acknowledging Gran at all. “Not nice.” Gran vanished. “Your turn for a test,” I said. Lara looked around and spotted a large crystal chandelier. “Make that swing clockwise.”
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Muriel nodded and the still ceiling ornament swayed until it was moving in a clear clockwise circle. “Excellent. Both of you.” Lara smiled at the crowd who was applauding. Muriel’s chandelier slowed to a stop and I heard her sigh. The weird part was I didn’t see or even sense a ghost near her. No ghosts or spirits had touched the chandelier that I could discern. And Muriel never seemed to actually see Gran. There were all sorts of powers. Even if I couldn’t see a certain spirit, I always felt them. I doubted Muriel more and more. Maybe she was just a parlor trick like a magician. “Perhaps we can get you two on video doing really big things.” Lara was talking to herself now. “I don’t think so.” I stood. “I don’t do tricks or shows.” As I walked away, I felt Muriel pull me back by the arm. I fell back in the chair as the crystal chandelier crashed to the ground I was about to cross. “You all right?” Muriel asked. “Fine. There was no danger.” I sensed none at least. Was I on the fritz? “I’m sorry. My ghost must’ve loosened it.” The silent chill in the room broke as John and Ivy barreled through the crowd. “I think it’s time for you two to leave,” John said to Lara and Muriel. I’d rarely seen John angry before. As a judge, he saw horrible people daily and kept an objective temperament. But he had become a quick judge of character for it. “It was an accident. Old house.” Lara tried to smooth things over. “Out!” Ivy snapped her heels. “Too much psychic energy, maybe?” Muriel tried to make nice but got the hint. “We’ll go.” “See you soon, Dr. Oscar.” Lara nodded. “Nice to meet you.” Muriel patted my arm. “Bye” was all I managed. I didn’t want to see either of them soon. Muriel was welcome to her ministry or whatever. All I wanted to do was help those who really needed it. The police had left me a stack of files on missing persons. Cold cases—I’d go through those before I did a single reading about when someone would get married. No publicity desired. “You okay?” John helped me up and steered me away from the mess. “Fine. It wasn’t going to fall.” I believed that. It wasn’t set to fall. “Maybe another psychic so close? You got your signals crossed?” Ivy picked crystal from my hair. “She saved you.” Mom rushed up. “Thank God.” “I’m not so sure.” Part of me thought it was an act.
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“Don’t be so smug. You’re not the smartest or the strongest psychic in the world. You always had to have your way—be right all the time.” Dad looked disappointed. The man hated a scene. “It’s an occupational hazard. I’m going to the ladies’ room to check for glass.” I needed quiet and Mom wouldn’t push. Not yet. The woman had careful timing. But I was more worried about whatever Lara and Muriel were up to. I didn’t like the test or the vibe from them. Gran faded in to take my mind off things. “Lovely party.” “Very. Did you catch the private party upstairs? I guess Greg is better with women than we thought.” I grinned. Gran blushed. “Don’t get involved.” “Me?” I smiled innocently. “Never. Besides this Lara and Muriel crap is major trouble. How do I get rid of them?” “Some things you have to work through yourself.” “They’ll be that much trouble? Great!” I sighed.
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Chapter Two I walked into my kitchen, rotating my neck as far as a human could in an attempt to release the tension. But my parents and brothers had followed me home. The tension wasn’t going anywhere. With a scrape of the heavy wooden chair, I sat at the butcher-block table that could easily fit twenty. That wasn’t even the formal dining room but the kitchen was the least dominating room in the house. My family still stared, awestruck at the appliances and the cabinets. “I made herbal tea,” Missy said from her rocking chair. She sat still, watching out the window. “I hate herbal tea.” I lifted the lid of the china teapot and sniffed. “At least it’s raspberry.” “You don’t need caffeine this late.” Missy was my ghost maid but had opinions beyond that of a servant. Truthfully, I was glad she had more personality. When I’d first met her she was afraid of everything. The loss of my grandmother had meant a change for the house and Missy was somehow bound to it. I poured myself a cup of tea. Missy had placed a full service of cups and saucers as though she expected my family. “Where’s the honey?” “Who are you talking to?” My mother asked. Missy dug around in a cabinet and produced a little bear full of honey I’d made Ivy get on her last grocery run. People put odd things in their tea like cream or sugar. That was for coffee, if I had to drink tea it needed to be super-sweet. I watched my family’s eyes grow larger as the bear of honey floated on the table. “Thanks.” I squeezed in a glob of honey and stirred my tea. Missy went back to her rocking chair and rocked. “What the hell?” my dad managed through clenched teeth. “Relax, it’s only Missy.” “Missy?” My mother moved and studied the rocking chair as it began to move. “She’s the ghost maid here, Mom. Don’t get too close. She’s shy.” I blew on my tea and wondered how best to acclimate them to my world. “Sit down. Have some tea.” The boys sat quickly, before anything else moved. My dad took a seat facing the door. My mom stayed standing, unsure if she wanted to run or sit in the chair. “I told you I wasn’t making it up.” I sipped my tea. “The house is full of ghosts. So is the world.”
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“You need to come home. It’s not safe here.” Dad was still Dad. He thought his word was law. “There are ghosts in Chicago too. This is my home. A bit bigger than yours actually.” My financial security was one thing Dad couldn’t argue with. “I’ll say.” Frank absorbed the old architecture. “You can take the money and build a better house. One not infested with ghosts. Or in a hurricane disaster area.” Dad wasn’t the giving-up type. I leaned back in my chair. “No. This was Gran’s house. Her roots are here. Which means so are mine. You could’ve told me.” “Come on, De, you’re from Chicago. We all are. Who cares what those fussy old snobs think? Just because they think you’re one of them, you are?” Frank asked. “No, but I’m more accepted here than I ever was at home. Whether it’s the rich end or the poor end, both accept me. I have friends in all areas who don’t care if I see ghosts, or the future or little purple bunny rabbits ice skating on the ceiling. Gran’s dead. I’m here now.” “You don’t have to be,” Mom said. “It’s my choice. You could’ve told me the truth before I found it on my own. That was your choice.” I squeezed in more honey. “You would’ve only come sooner. All your life you’ve been more interested in what you see in your head than in real life.” Dad shook his head at me. “You’re wrong. None of this is in my head. It’s all real. If you don’t like it, go back to Chicago. I’m fine. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy. I’m not hurting for money or company.” “What if another storm comes?” Mom asked. “I saw the last one. I’ll see the next one and get out again. The levies will be upgraded.” “What are we supposed to tell people? You went off to be…what did that reporter girl call you? A psychic detective? Christ, Deanna, what’ll people think?” Dad was moving closer to honest with that remark. Much as he’d deny it, what others thought of his family was a direct reflection on him and hit his ego hard. “I don’t care what you tell them. This is where I live now. And psychic detective, for lack of a better term, that’s what I do. It’s that simple.” I did my best to avoid accessing those childhood emotions. I wanted to scream and yell that I wasn’t crazy or imagining things. The adult in me knew it would serve no point. My inner child wanted its pain validated. “You’re going to ruin your life.” My dad’s skin went from a pale color, no doubt on account of Missy, to a deep red at being back-talked by his only daughter. My brothers were still in college, under Dad’s thumb for tuition, room and board. There was nothing I needed from Dad. At least nothing he wanted to give, like money or advice. All I wanted from him was to accept me. From my clinical experience, few children ever
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fully got this from their parents, so I’d settle for them tolerating it. My mother registered Dad’s color change and moved to intercept. She knew I could be beyond stubborn like my father and now Dad had no hold over me at all. “We should get to the hotel.” She put a hand on Dad’s shoulder. He jerked his neck to look at her, expecting to see what? A ghost hand? I wasn’t sure, but he was spooked. “Are you sure you want to stay in a hotel?” I knew I’d regret this but New Orleans was still only half populated. Some things were functioning but my parents didn’t know the city at all. They’d have no clue what was and wasn’t safe under normal circumstances. “It’s reopened and we’ve got two rooms for the week.” Dad stood defiantly. “The week? What for?” “Gun show. I told you I’m retiring and taking over the gun shop. I need to meet the connections. I’ve rented a car and we’re all set.” “Be careful. The city isn’t completely safe yet.” “You live here,” he shot back. “I know where I’m going. You’d be safer staying here.” I almost choked on the words but if anything happened to my mother or brothers, I’d never forgive myself. Dad had lived here when he was little. “With the ghosts and the drag queen? Not a chance in hell. You don’t even have a security system.” Dad stalked to the hallway and turned toward the front door. We all followed. Just as he reached for the doorknob, the locks flipped closed and the front windows snapped shut. I smelled roses and smiled. “Thanks, Noah.” “Noah?” my mother asked. “Another house ghost. He prefers the library, but trust me, if anyone tried to break into the house he’d stop them and protect anyone inside. Best security system around.” I smiled. “I won’t be held prisoner by a ghost. It’s not real.” Dad reached for the door and was knocked back on his Chicago super-fan beer can of an ass. I folded my arms. “It’s real. Don’t piss Noah off, Dad. All of the ghosts, the people in New Orleans and well, everyone, just adored Gran. You bad-mouth me or her and you’ll get some very negative reactions.” “I’m not staying here with ghosts, endless hallways and freaky doors. No way.” Dad stood and reached for the door again. This time the massive doors swung open, just short of hitting him. My family hustled out. Mom threw me a sympathetic smile as I stood in the doorway. I’d feel better with them under my roof for their safety, but not for my sanity. Dad made his choice. It’d be an interesting week. I watched their rental car pull away. One whole, long week. “Missy, do we have any antacids in the mansion? Or
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alcohol?” With my stuff still in transit because of Katrina delays, I’d broken down and bought a laptop. It didn’t have all my stuff on it but I could get at my email. I sent The Lotus Circle a request for an updated New Orleans list of local members. Not even half the residents had returned. And I also had a question. How best do I protect myself against others with powers? I closed my laptop and headed up to bed. It’d been a long day.
***** I tossed and turned all night. My family in town, the reporter and disturbing competition on the loose. Muriel could have all the cases and publicity as long as she was helping people. But my gut told me not to trust her. So did Gran’s expression at the party. My sleep grew worse. No travel tonight. Instead I felt fear, violence and death. The searing pain behind my eyes made me jump out of bed. Fully awake, I pulled on jeans and a long-sleeve pale blue T-shirt. Shoving my feet into the latest fad comfort shoes—my charcoal Crocs—and grabbing my purse, I ran down the stairs. Snatching the keys to my ‘59 Cadillac convertible off the hook, I was out the door without Missy spotting me. Someone was dead. Someone I knew. It wasn’t my family. That much I was sure of. The relief triggered guilt. A psychic should see the death before it happened—not during. I floored my mint-green boat with fins—the cops knew me and my car so I wouldn’t be pulled over. However, I needed the cops on the scene. Fishing my cell phone out of my purse, I speed dialed Matt Weathers. The middle son of my neighbor and a detective high enough in the NOPD to keep me an asset rather than a liability, Matt trusted me most of the time. “Yeah?” he answered. “Murder,” I said. “Where?” he grunted. “The Long and Big Easy. It’s done. Hurry.” I flipped the phone closed and pushed my V8 to its limit. I parked illegally in front of the glittering drag club, which was still being refinished after Katrina flooded it. The killer was gone. I rushed inside, careful not to touch anything. I didn’t need to. The victim was laid out on the all-glass bar. Nemo Mandes, owner of the club. He was a friend of Ivy’s whom I’d met several times over the last few months. His thick hair and prominent Greek nose gave him away—not much else did.
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Nemo’s face and neck were a swollen, bloody mess of slashes. As I got closer, I saw a smashed bottle of Patron, the new hot tequila according to Ivy. One jagged piece of glass was covered in blood, as was the bar. His throat was deeply slashed and swollen. I heard sirens outside and the police rushed in with guns drawn. “Whoever did it is gone.” I turned away from the bloody mess. “Who is it?” Matt asked. “Nemo Mandes. The owner. Definitely dead.” I stepped back. “Very.” Matt looked the body over as he pulled on latex gloves. “Who killed him?” “A woman,” another woman’s voice answered. I looked back and saw Muriel Jennings with Lara Gordon tagging along. Muriel approached the body, ignoring me completely. “Looks like a crime of passion.” Muriel reached out a hand to touch Nemo. Matt grabbed her hand and shoved it back. “Don’t touch anything. And no reporters.” Two uniforms escorted Lara outside. But to my surprise, Matt didn’t kick Muriel out. “You agree?” Matt asked me. I moved closer to Nemo and closed my eyes. I saw shadows of the crime and knew it was a woman. At least all outward appearances were female. And Muriel was right about passion. It was involved somehow. “A woman. But it’s a drag club so it could be a man in drag.” “Name?” “Not yet,” I said. “A drag club? That’s where I am?” Muriel scrunched her nose and tensed all over. I rolled my eyes at Matt but a scream from the backstage area made me forget Muriel. We turned to see Nemo’s boyfriend in full drag and distraught. He screamed and ran toward Nemo. I grabbed him before he got to the bar. “No, Celest.” “Nemo!” he cried. I steered him to a table. “I’m so sorry.” Matt came over. “You knew the deceased?” Celest bit his lip and nodded. “My boyfriend.” “We’re going to need to talk to you at the station. Your name?” “Celestial Garden.” “Your real name.” Matt pulled out a notebook. “Charlie Mason.” He tugged off his wig. Muriel stared at us and when she approached, I wanted her to back off. I could see 24
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the judgment in her eyes. “A woman. Or at least looks like one. Crime of passion.” Muriel studied Celest. “I’d never.” Celest jumped up, tipping a table and rushing Muriel. “You bitch, accusing me.” Two uniforms got hold of the strong Celest and I pushed Muriel back. “What’s your problem?” “Someone is dead. Odds are the killer is someone close to him. This guy makes the most sense.” Muriel folded her arms. “Statistically, yes. But you can’t assume the first or closest person to the deceased is the killer. The cops need proof. Motive, opportunity and evidence.” “That is their job. I see what I see. It was a woman with passion. This place is a den of sin.” “Sin? All this judgment. Maybe it was a hate crime? Nemo was a wealthy and prominent gay business owner.” I wasn’t letting Muriel get away with the easy answer. “That would be a crime of passion as well. I’m not a cop. Neither are you. I’m just trying to help save souls. Some can’t be saved.” “And I’m just worried about lives right now. If you don’t like who the victim is, leave.” I didn’t want Muriel or Lara around making this worse. “You’re a psychologist, right? I guess it’s your job not to judge others. But we got a message with the hurricane. New Orleans and the world. We need to clean up our souls.” “Or God’ll do it again? It doesn’t work that way.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Is that the psychic or the psychologist talking?” “Both. I don’t judge. It’s not my job. Preach elsewhere.” “I do. Be careful. Next time you might not get a warning. I met your parents at the party, good people. But if you let the bad influence you—” “Shut up!” I snapped. “I escaped Katrina by going to Vegas. Sin City itself. If that’s still standing, I don’t think this was Noah and the Ark again. If Vegas floods we’ll call you.” Muriel smiled serenely in the face of my fury. She handed me a flyer. “Your logic is unique. But logic and faith aren’t one. Come by if you need help.” I walked her out the door where Lara waited to pounce. “Think you can solve this, Dr. Oscar?” “It’s a police matter. I just help.” “But if the police can’t identify the killer, can you?” I knew a challenge when I got one. “I do my best to help.” “Our readers want to see psychics in action. I think this would be an interesting case to follow.” “I’m not interested in being followed.” 25
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“Fair enough,” Lara said. “I’ll follow this case, whether you, Muriel or the police solve it. Human interest.” I watched Muriel and Lara leave and then glared down at the flyer. Muriel had a following, complete with prayer chain and an address down in the Ninth Ward. Stuffing the flyer in my jeans pocket, I went back to check on Celest. He had no violence in him Muriel was going in the wrong direction. But I’d been wrong more than once. I didn’t want to be on a case that involved publicity. The police could get lucky but I received the vision for a reason. Nemo deserved better.
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Chapter Three With Celest at the station and the crime scene investigators swarming for evidence, I was no use so I went home. It was six in the morning, no point in sleeping now. I showered and put on fresh jeans and a Saints T-shirt someone had given me for my birthday. I wasn’t a football fan but there were tons of people at the party who didn’t know me well enough. Hair still wet, I trudged downstairs to get a scolding look from Missy. “I had to go. There was a murder,” I said. “Dangerous.” She shook her head at me. “My mother is in town. And Gran checks in regularly, I don’t need a keeper.” I grabbed a warm corn muffin from a tray. The one Southern thing I did like was cornbread with butter. The rest I’d yet to adapt to fully. Missy mixed more batter. Somewhere over the months, she’d given up on trying to get me to eat things like biscuits and gravy. Now she kept the corn muffin supply up. “Your mother is here,” she said. “What?” I tuned into my surroundings and realized Missy was right. Mom was on the front steps. “Damn.” I darted to the door and opened it before she rang the bell. “Hi, Mom.” “Hello, sweetie. Early morning? At least you’re not being lazy with no job to go to.” “She doesn’t need a job. Our sis has got the millions.” Frank followed Mother and Eddie pulled up the rear. I ignored the shot at my new lifestyle. “Where’s Dad?” “There’s a gun show in town. I dropped him off. Maybe you’d have time to show us around the city?” “Maybe Frank and I can borrow that sweet old convertible out back?” Eddie asked. Frank elbowed Eddie but looked hopeful. “No way. Not that car. But you can borrow the Jeep.” I went to the kitchen and got the keys. Gran’s old Wrangler looked like a veteran of some ancient war but it survived and ran every time. If the boys wrecked it, it’d be a miracle. “Thanks.” Frank grabbed the keys. “Bye.” Eddie called over his shoulder. “Quality time.” I laughed at my brothers. “How many cars do you own?” Mom gazed around the entryway and peeked into the rooms.
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“Three at the moment. The vintage Cadillac, the Jeep was Gran’s and a new Hummer. But the Hummer was because of the storm. I probably won’t keep it. Want some coffee or something?” I wasn’t good at playing hostess, yet it was Mom. I had to try to be good at it. “No, thank you. This is a huge home.” She looked at the curved staircase. “Come into the parlor.” I headed for the first and largest of the two parlors. In Chicago we’d just call it a living room but Southern-speak was creeping into my vocabulary. “Lovely.” She sat on the sofa. “Are you all right?” “Of course. The money is plenty. I’ve made friends and I do have a job. It’s just a bit less defined.” “No paycheck. No regular hours. Do the police call you in?” She was making an effort, at least. “I usually know before they do.” I sat in the large chair and refused to fidget. “I don’t have all the details worked out yet, but I’m helping people. Whether I’m a psychologist or psychic—what’s the difference?” “Your father shouldn’t have kept this from you.” She looked around and took note of all the nice things. Carved wood, stone fireplace and antique furniture. “Don’t worry. I’ll pay for Frank’s and Eddie’s college tuitions and pay you back for my undergrad. I’ve already paid off all my grad school loans. This all should’ve been Dad’s.” “We don’t want your money. Your grandmother made her will exactly how she wanted. It was her money. We just want to know you’re safe.” “I’m fine. I always carry a gun on me, and I know the police and a judge. Any trouble, I can find a way out. Gran keeps an eye on me.” I was starting to feel like a broken record, when thankfully, the doorbell rang. “Excuse me.” I took a deep breath as I left the parlor. I opened the front door to find Celestial Gardens—out of drag and on my front steps. Even as Charlie, he was in tears. “De, I need your help.” He buried his face in my shoulder. I moved us inside, closed the door and pulled him into the second parlor. “What happened?” I sat him down and went to the wet bar in the far corner. Returning with a shot of raspberry vodka on ice, I sat next to him. “I don’t even know.” He took the glass and downed it in one gulp. “Come on. What did they say at the station?” I could call Matt, but I had Mom to juggle in the mix and also wanted to hear what Charlie thought. “They’re checking my alibi. I was doing a show at another club. The art must go on. They took my fingerprints.” Charlie rubbed his red eyes. “Of course. You and Nemo lived together. They have to find out who else’s prints are there in addition to yours and Nemo’s. It’s not like they arrested you, right?” He shook his head. “I think I’m a suspect though.” 28
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“I’m sure they have a long list. They’ll check your alibi and you’re off it. They’ll have to check a lot of alibis. Every contractor and employee who has access to the club. It’s all procedure.” “I didn’t hurt Nemo. I couldn’t. He was my life.” “I know.” Actually, I didn’t. I knew Nemo and Charlie mostly in passing at their loud and crowded club. They were nice, upbeat and customer-pleasing performers who from all angles adored each other. What I did know was that Charlie wasn’t faking his pain and heartache. He grabbed my hand. “You’ve got to find who did it. Please.” “I’ve worked with the police before. I’ll help any way I can.” “No. Not the police. For me.” He shakily pulled out a one-hundred-dollar bill. “Nemo always had me keep this on me, for emergencies. This is an emergency.” Before I could answer, I heard my mother’s voice. “I’ll see who it is, dear.” “Sorry, Charlie, my mom is in town. I need to watch her. I’ll be right back.” I rushed to the door and found Mom already talking to Ivy and Greg. “If you’re a drag queen, why do you dress like a girl all the time?” Mom wasn’t the queen of tact. “Mom,” I interrupted. “No, De, it’s fine. I’m happy to help. You see, Mrs. Oscar. Two wardrobes are expensive. Plus I work during the day as a home healthcare provider. Now if I have a show at night and a late client, I’d have to be dressed. I don’t want to confuse some of my clients, so it’s better to dress one way. It’s just easier.” “And less expensive. I never thought about the clothes.” Mom nodded as though she understood. I was a bit speechless. My mom didn’t criticize Ivy’s answer a bit. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t give me an earful later. Finally, I regained my manners. “Greg, Ivy. Did you get to meet my mother last night?” “We both had the pleasure.” Greg flashed a smile at my mother. “Sorry we were out all night.” “What was so urgent, De?” Ivy turned to me. “Your message at four a.m. was weird. I was out partying.” “It’s complicated.” I’d left Ivy a message to find me as soon as she could. Ivy knew Nemo and Charlie better than I. Actually it might be good. Charlie needed to talk to someone. “What’s wrong?” Greg asked. “Has something happened?” Mom pressed. I headed into the first parlor and they all followed me. Greg had the good sense to close the door. “Last night, I had a vision. A murder at the Long and Big Easy.” I sat down.
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“Oh my God.” Ivy sat next to me. “Who, De, tell me.” “It was Nemo.” I put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” “Poor Charlie.” Ivy’s hands flew to her forehead. “Is that the young man in the other room?” Mom asked. “Yes.” I didn’t want her to be in the middle of this but I couldn’t ask her to leave—it was a zoo. “Charlie’s here?” Ivy stood. “I need to talk to him. Second parlor? Thank you, Mrs. Oscar.” Ivy left me with Greg and my mother. It wasn’t a good morning. “So after your party when we left you here last night, you had a psychic episode and dashed off to a murder at the gay bar?” “A drag club, Mom. There are quite a few of them. Even in Chicago.” “We never lived in the city. Too dangerous,” Mom said to Greg. “I can take care of myself.” I stood. There was nothing I could do. “I need to talk to Charlie.” I opened the door to find Ivy with Charlie, who looked less upset. “Ivy said you’d take my case.” Charlie hugged me tight. “Thank you.” Ivy stuck the hundred in my jeans pocket and hugged me. “Of course she will.” I waited for my mother to object. “I guess you won’t have time to give me a tour. Be careful, dear.” She didn’t sound upset. I was shocked and somehow relieved. Dad would be harder to persuade but Mom seemed more open-minded than I’d given her credit. “Okay.” “I’d be happy to show you around, Mrs. Oscar,” Greg offered. “I’ll even show you where your daughter shot a snake and saved my life.” “Don’t you dare take her to where I found a dead body.” I shot him a warning glance. “Deanna, please. You have your things to do and I have a reliable tour guide. I’ll see you later.” She waved at me. What the hell just happened? I wasn’t sure but I had a case and a sobbing drag queen on each shoulder.
***** When everyone was finally out of the house, I regrouped. First I needed to talk to Matt and find out what the police knew. Evidence could trigger a psychic connection. If that didn’t work, I’d go to the club. I’d go anyway because I needed to see it again. To feel it without Charlie or Muriel plus ten cops with guns in the room. “I’ll be back, Missy,” I shouted as I opened the front door. 30
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On my porch I found a very pregnant young woman looking scared. “Can I help you?” I was definitely out of tune if I hadn’t sensed her on my property. “I need to speak to you.” Her soft voice made me nervous. “Who are you?” “Joan Jennings. I’m Muriel’s daughter.” She looked over her shoulder as though she were being followed. So Muriel sent a spy or had a traitor. Either way, I’d get some info out of it. “Come in.” I was actually getting tired of my first parlor. But I sat on the sofa while the bulging woman eased into a firm chair. “Thank you for seeing me,” Joan said. “What do you want to talk about?” She took a deep breath. “Please don’t tell my mother I was here. I really don’t need a lecture.” I understood how mothers could be. “I won’t tell. But what would she lecture you about?” “Not trusting her. With her it’s all or nothing. Absolute faith. Black and white.” “I get it. And you’re not sure she’s one hundred percent right?” “Yes.” “About?” I felt like getting a confession. The girl seemed scared. I sensed no negative intentions. Joan’s eyes welled with tears. “My baby.” “It’s a girl.” It must be a test. “Is that all?” “No, no. It’s not about gender. I don’t care. The doctor says it healthy and yes, a girl. But my mother. It’s a long story, but she feels that the baby is evil.” I deserved extra points for not laughing. True, there were people who were simply evil. Bad seeds as they were called. But there was no evil in Joan or her baby. “Why does Muriel think your baby is evil?” “I went to New York after high school. Wanted to dance professionally. The usual idealistic teenage stuff. Be famous on Broadway. Waited tables while waiting for my big break. I’m a cliché.” She burst into tears. On cue, Missy entered with a box of tissues. “Thanks, Missy. And some herbal tea, please.” I took the tissues and offered them to the stunned Joan. “Ghosts?” she asked. “Of course. I’m not a fake. I don’t have every power in the book but I’m pretty accurate. And my ghosts are out to help. Can I ask why you’re really here?” “The baby.” “Why believe me? Your mom is psychic.”
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“She can’t be right. And she was talking about you last night. Obviously you’re real. She sees you as competition.” “So you wanted a second opinion?” I asked. “I’m scared if it’s true. Just that they believe it is scary.” She welled up with tears again. “I don’t blame you.” I set a box on her belly since she had no lap. Seeing Joan swollen with a kid made me love my average, size-ten body. “Tea is coming. And following a dream isn’t clichéd. It’s what you do when you’re young. How’d you end up back here?” Joan blew her nose and wiped her eyes. “The father. He backed off as soon as he heard the news. It wasn’t his, and all that bullshit. Asshole. Mom kept telling me to come home. Finally she sent Aunt Agnes for me. Then Katrina.” She threw her hands in the air. “So Muriel was home alone when the hurricane hit?” “Yeah. She had a home. But it got wrecked. She stayed at Aunt Agnes’ house, closer to safety. That’s where we all are now. Buildings are still standing. Mom was always religious. She and Aunt Agnes were into the born-again stuff. But being all alone with God in the flood changed her. Gave her her powers or whatever.” “And after the storm you and Agnes came back?” “As soon as they’d let us. I felt so bad. If I’d come home on the bus before, like I was supposed to, Aunt Agnes never would’ve had to fly out to fetch me. Mom sold her car for the plane tickets. Then they would’ve had the money to get out of New Orleans before the storm. Mom thinks it was fate but this is crazy.” “Muriel doesn’t even have a car?” I didn’t get a poor image off the woman. The opposite actually. No one would mistake her for a society lady but she seemed well-off. “She does now. After the storm and her story she attracted a following. She never left. The water would leave when it was ready, she claimed. Mom collected a bunch of snakes in all the water. And she used her powers to help people. It’s just grown out of control.” “And they drive her around?” “No, they donate money to keep her going full-time. Pay for readings or blessings. It’s different. The luxury is a secret. My baby and I have everything we need.” “I agree. But people will pay for a lot of weird things. And your aunt is supportive of this ministry?” I couldn’t think of a better word that didn’t sound like scam or cult. “She believes. Helps and does the housework. The support stuff. Feeds the flock. She saved my life by coming to get me. My pride was keeping me in New York.” “I understand. But your aunt and your mother both believe your baby is evil?” Joan nodded and turned to stare at Missy carrying in a tray of tea. “Thanks, Missy.” I poured two cups and handed Joan one. “Why do they think this?” 32
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Joan dropped a sugar cube in her tea. “I guess because of the father. New York slick scum. Producer of some small hole of a theater. Way off Broadway. Dumped me. Doesn’t want anything to do with the baby. They don’t believe that union can be good.” “I’m guessing by your near-delivery stage that you want to have the baby?” “Yes.” Her arms covered her belly. “Keep it?” I poured honey into my tea as I tried to figure out my line of questioning. “Yes.” Now for the test. “Even if it is evil?” “Someone needs to protect her. Set her right.” “Good. Luckily she’s not evil.” Joan closed her eyes in relief and the tension left the room. Finally she sipped her tea. “Thank you.” “I would suggest you get a job, your own place and a little distance from those who believe she is evil. That’s very negative energy to inflict on a baby.” “Easier said than done. But once the baby is born, I’ll be doing all of it. I only hope they don’t try to hold on to me and the baby. My family was normal growing up. Aunt Agnes was always religious. After my dad died and I moved to New York, things changed for Mom. Now it’s a cult with tests and snakes. I live in a compound.” “There’s no such thing as normal, Joan. But I’m sure you and your baby will be fine.” I put a hand on her arm and a flash of fear and violence hit me. It wasn’t dangerous but something bad was coming. I shook off the half-warning and drank my tea. “Thank you. I feel a lot better!” She dabbed her eyes dry and then rubbed her stomach. “And I’m really sorry about my mom and all the bad publicity.” “Publicity?” I hadn’t seen a paper or turned on a television since before the party. But what could be out so fast? I searched for the remote. Maybe a huge flat-panel television isn’t the best decoration to hang on the wall of the first parlor, but I needed some connection to the real world. I flipped to the late local morning news and saw myself. The few still pictures Lara had taken were up on New Orleans TV. The commentary was worse. “Deanna Oscar, Muriel Jennings. Both showed their power last night. One a little too much as Muriel had to rescue Deanna from a chandelier. Later that night, Deanna and Muriel both arrived at a murder scene. Both wanting to help solve a murder. New Orleans is lucky to have such talent.” The picture changed to my getting in Muriel’s face about Charlie. “But can they get along?” “So mean.” Joan shook her head at the screen. “That bitch of a reporter.” I slammed my teacup on the tray.
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The picture shifted to a shot of Lara, the bitch. “This reporter isn’t done finding out just who is the best psychic in the city. Muriel has a loyal following. Deanna, a family legacy and a life of leisure. What we’re going to find out now is who can solve the murder of Nemo Mandes?” “My mother wouldn’t go after a murderer.” Joan even looked surprised. “She did.” I leaned back on the sofa. “It’s crazy. Mom never solved a crime.” “The police won’t stand for it anyway. At least not if they have leads and evidence. Getting them to listen can be tough.” I’d won many of them over with hard proof but I still had limits and doubters. “Think your mom will go along with the reporter?” “Publicity? Mom can’t say no. She feels any attention is good for her work. It’ll be her next soapbox.” Joan set her tea down. “Thank you for your time. I really appreciate it.” “No problem.” I showed her out as the news piece ended.
***** As soon as the door was closed, I took the tea tray into the kitchen and dug around for a pen. What I found was the newspaper Missy had hidden in a drawer. Muriel and I were on the front page. “Damn it!” “Deanna really.” Gran faded in. “What? According to rumors, you hated publicity.” “Of course. No one likes to be featured. If they liked it, they’d go into show business. But it was part of the life. Inevitable. You’ve had press coverage before.” “But not competitive coverage. We’re not two dogs and they can’t make us fight. Place your bets! I’m not going to do that.” “I agree. Unfortunately this murder is not going to be easy for the police. And you already agreed to help Charlie.” “I know but I don’t have to play into Lara’s hand. I’ll stay away from Muriel and do it my way. Get the answers and get it done.” “Sounds like a plan.” Gran nodded. “Don’t do that. You can’t tell me the future, but don’t play like you agree with me if you know it won’t work.” “I did no such thing.” Gran’s posture straightened. “Please. I could see it in your expression. Lara and Muriel will keep on stalking me. One step behind me and they’ll try to take credit. And make me look bad.” “Image is something to consider. I know the money is new to you. But they’ll look at you as a rich and pampered girl who doesn’t have to lift a finger.” “I grew up middle class and not the upper half.”
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“I know. That’s what I’m saying. Those facts are meaningless to them. They want a story. Your money and free time as opposed to Muriel’s selfless woman-of-the-poor image doesn’t look good. Pregnant daughter and all.” “I can’t put my finger on it but I don’t trust Muriel. She had no ghosts around her last night. It’s got to be a scam.” “There were certainly no ghosts with her. But that isn’t the only power. You see ghosts and the future. She seems to have other powers.” That finally clicked. “Over objects. She’s telekinetic.” “And she clearly tried to use it to show off by pulling the chandelier down so she could save you.” “She’s not a fraud, why claim to be a psychic medium? Lara said that’s what Muriel was.” I felt bad at the realization. I wanted to know more psychics but not Holy Roller and showy types. “Her abilities to see the future are untested. It may be true.” “She showed up at the murder last night.” “With that horrid reporter.” Gran shuddered. “Reporters usually have sources or police scanners.” “Well, they didn’t beat the police. So I guess it proves nothing that she was there. I’m just hoping she’ll stay away. Clearly she doesn’t approve of drag queens.” “What if she has some other motive for being around? And for trying to solve the murder?” I lifted a shoulder. “Great. If she can solve the murder it’s fine. I just don’t want Charlie’s, Ivy’s or Nemo’s names dragged through the mud while she’s at it. I don’t trust her. She already accused Charlie.” “Sounds like you’ve got a lot to do. Don’t let your ego get in the way of the case. Or the family. They mean well. All but the killer of course. You don’t always have to be right and save the day.” “Are you saying I’m a control freak?” I turned to face her. “You never liked accepting help. That could look bad image-wise. You want to appear open and cooperative.” “I’m open!” I smashed a hand on the wooden table. Her hands went to her hips. “To suggestion. Open to suggestion. I didn’t mean you’re conservative.” “Oh. It’s not my fault I get the previews. Any chance Nemo is out of reorientation and ready to share?” In my first case I’d learned about the Other Side and the adjustment to death that people went through. It made spirits unavailable right when I could use their input.
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Gran laughed. “Dear, Nemo was thirty-five. The young girls took time, a grown man has a lot more years to sift through and adjust to reality. I’m sorry. Give him a week or two.” “Great! Now what?” “Do what you do, De. It’s usually the right thing. Be prepared for the publicity though. You might not like what you see. We’re always hardest on ourselves.” Gran faded out. “Dad can be pretty rough!” I said to an empty room. Missy floated in. “Still going out?” “Right, thanks! I forgot. I’m going to the police station and then the club. Hold things down around here and don’t hide any more papers.” “Whatever you say.” She began cleaning. I headed out the back door. All I could do was catch a killer, expose a fake medium and survive my parents. First step, coordinate with the cops.
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Chapter Four I pulled the sea foam-green convertible into the police station parking lot. Since Katrina, the city had been less crowded but the police weren’t any less busy. I knew all the desk sergeants and wandered back to Matt’s desk. A detective rank of some sort, he was a Weathers who acted like he was just a poor Southern boy while his two brothers were a judge and a lawyer. I tried to stay on the overall side of the NOPD without getting too involved with their inner workings. “Hey, Matt.” I sat on the edge of his desk. “What took you so long?” He laughed and munched on a pastry full of powdered sugar. “It was a parade at my house. Charlie, Ivy and my mother. Then weirdness itself. What’s the scoop?” I tore off a piece of his pastry. He slapped my hand. “We’re trying to run down Charlie’s alibi. Talk to people in the area. No one has come forward to say they saw anything. The place was closed for rehab. Most of those nearby buildings were too. Any ideas? Where’s the psychic mojo when I need it?” Matt liked playing big brother at times. Protective one minute, but when I got in the way without helping, I was sent to my mansion. Not that I ever listened of course. “This Lara and Muriel thing has been a distraction. I’m in the news. Can’t you make them stop?” “You know a judge. Get a restraining order. Not that it’d help things. Just look like you’re running away.” “That’s not me.” I licked the sugar off my fingers. “I’ll get tuned in to the killer. Any clues?” “Sorry, little lady. Whoever it was had been careful and clean. No threads, no hairs and nothing left behind. Not much of a struggle either. Whoever it was slashed him without a big fight.” “Drugged?” “Sort of. Possibly.” Matt handed me a picture of Nemo’s neck with two puncture holes. “Vampires sucked him dry?” I rolled my eyes. “Please.” “No. Try a cottonmouth or maybe a diamondback. Big mother though. I’m having the tox run. Some snake venom affects the nervous system. He probably went into shock. I’ll let you know.” “So he was assaulted with a snake?” I wrapped my mind around that.
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“Probably what killed him. If he were attacked, he’d have a chance to run. Defend himself. Even after he was slashed, he could’ve run for help until he bled to death. The venom gave him no shot.” Matt shook his head that “poor bastard” way cops did. “Whoever did this has snakes.” Bells rang there. “Or bought one. Or caught one. Not exactly hard to find a poisonous reptile around here. Lots of people raise them.” “Isn’t there antivenin out there?” “Yes. But Nemo was long dead when we found him. You’ve gotta get that in them early. Plus know the type of snake and get to a hospital that has the antivenin. If you get any flashes or leads—let me know.” “Sure.” I didn’t mention I was technically working for Charlie. I didn’t believe Charlie did it. Either way I wanted the killer in jail. If I was completely wrong and Charlie had something to do with it, I’d refund his money. Matt looked at me like I should leave but I didn’t budge. “Anything on Muriel Jennings?” “Your new best friend?” he chuckled. “She’s trouble.” I had no doubt about that. Matt exhaled loudly and tapped a few keys on his computer. “No criminal background. And from what I heard she proved she’s got skills last night.” “Skills, sure. I don’t trust her though. Her message.” My air quotes illustrated my sarcasm. “No law against preaching. I’ve got a patrol keeping an eye on her place. She’s attracting a bit of a crowd but it’s not a problem yet.” I should’ve known he’d be a step ahead. Matt kept an eye on things. “Okay, fine. She’s your problem. I’m just after Nemo’s killer.” “I thought I’d find you here.” A familiar voice echoed over me. John had tracked me down. “Just snooping for more info.” I gave him a winning smile. “After another killer?” John leaned over. “Let the cops handle one.” “They’ve had plenty. This is personal. Ivy’s friend. I’d met Nemo. And that Muriel. She’s anti-drag queen. I don’t want her spinning this.” I crossed my arms and legs for emphasis. “I don’t care what her religious opinion is. If she helps, she helps.” Matt waved off the objection. “Charlie didn’t do it.” That much I was sure of. “We’re checking the alibi. He’s not the only one with opportunity.” Matt was getting tired of me. I could tell I’d worn out my welcome. “Fine. I’ll start on the unobvious areas.” I stood up and grabbed my purse. “Most murders are done by the obvious perpetrators. You seem to gravitate toward 38
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the real weird ones.” Matt picked up the phone and turned away. I rolled my eyes at John as we headed out to the parking lot. “Muriel gives me the creeps.” “I believe you.” John leaned on my ‘59 convertible. “I drove by her house this morning.” “And?” “And she’s got more than a following. It’s like they keep vigil for her.” “I smell a cult. She’s so preachy. A man is dead and she’s judging his lifestyle choices.” I threw my purse in the front seat of my car. “You’re trying to figure her out instead of finding the killer.” John’s tone was a gentle nudge. I shrugged. “I covered both here. Don’t want to duplicate work with the cops. Next is the crime scene. There were so many interruptions last night that I don’t think I got a clear feel.” “Good plan. First I’ll take you to lunch.” “Lunch? It’s only…” I looked at my watch and realized the morning had flown by me. “Damn.” “Lunch. Meet me at Michelle’s.” “No, I’ll just grab something on the way back. I need to get home.” I pushed him off my car and opened the driver’s side door. “And I thought your family was getting on your nerves. If you’re in such a rush to get back to them I’m glad to hear it.” John held open my car door. I slid in the seat. “Michelle’s it is. No reason to rush home to the family inquisition.”
***** Michelle’s was a great corner restaurant with good food and a nice view of the edge of the French Quarter. I ordered the mountain of fried shrimp, fries and garlic bread with a diet pop for calorie balance. My seafood intake had tripled since moving to the Big Easy. Luckily, I liked it. John ordered the same thing and then leaned over to give me the serious judge look. “What?” I grabbed a breadstick to keep my hands busy. “Be careful.” “Oh please. Is that all? Another killer on the loose. If the cops are digging hard into Charlie’s alibi, you know they’ve got nothing better. Matt said no trace of the killer. So what else is there?” “You just don’t want to get into a pissing contest with Muriel or that reporter. It’s beneath you.”
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The cliché stopped me. “Do men actually have pissing contests? Because I know no women who do that. I don’t even know how you’d do it.” “Deanna.” He tapped the table. He caught me changing the subject. Points for trying. “Look, I can’t not go after the killer. Ivy knew Nemo. I’ve met Nemo. Charlie is a wreck. I don’t care if Lara covers the grass growing and Muriel condemns us all as sinners on national television. I’m only in it to find the killer.” “No competitive streak? Don’t lie to me.” He glared with a hint of amusement. “The only way I lose is if the killer goes free.” The idea of Muriel showing me up, all holy and good, ran all over me. “Or if Muriel finds her first.” “See.” John nodded. Our food arrived. A fried feast. I dug in, starving from an all-nighter and not a lot of breakfast. “The competition will only make me work harder to find the killer. Which is good for everyone. Charlie gets closure. We get a killer off our streets. And Muriel can go back to her commune.” I bit into tender garlic bread with a groan. “You think it’s fair to ignore your parents by overworking?” he asked. “It’s just happened—I haven’t had time to obsess yet. And parents or not, that’s me. That’s my job now. My family is fine.” I grabbed a fry without spilling the shrimp. John relaxed and began to eat. Lecture over. He had my best interests at heart—he just didn’t fully understand me sometimes. Generally he wasn’t this pushy. Add in he was adopted and he got a bit squirrelly when it came to dealing with family stuff so I didn’t go defensive. It made perfect sense. My family couldn’t go without seeing me. They were the clingy type. “Where’s your family, by the way?” He tried to sound casual. “I sent them to the airboat tours on the bayou. To see the gators and the snakes.” I forced myself not to smile. John’s face went pale. “I don’t care what anyone says—those waters are still recovering. That’s not good for anyone to breathe.” I started laughing. “You think they’d go even if I suggested that? Well, my brothers would but not my parents. Please! I gave my brothers the Jeep so they’re off who knows where. Dad’s at some gun show and Mom is on a guided tour of New Orleans with Greg.” John’s eyebrow arched. “Greg?” My hand with shrimp paused halfway between plate and mouth. “He was available and cheap. She was determined to see the sights. It was safer than letting her go alone.” He made a grunt that suggested he wasn’t convinced. Or he didn’t want to talk about Greg. “Spare me. I don’t know exactly what’s going on with Greg and Mary Lou but the
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first chance I get, I’ll find out. Either way he’s not going to endanger or hit on my mom. And if he did hit on her, she’d mace him and then choke him with her rosary. Worry for Greg.” “Your mom’s Catholic?” John knew a lot about my dad’s family but my mom’s side had no connection to New Orleans. And no psychics. “Irish Catholic. Not totally militant about it, but she loves everything Irish. I wanted a tattoo when I was sixteen. My mom said no way. Then I told her I wanted a shamrock and she said maybe when I was in college.” “Did you ever get it?” John’s eyes roamed my exposed skin. “No. I couldn’t decide where exactly I wanted it. Not a huge deal. Teenage rebellion. But the Irish theme smoothes over a lot with my mom.” “Did you ever have to dance a jig?” He grinned. “No, two left feet. Thank God. I hated that stuff. The ghosts came around and distracted me. I couldn’t help it and looked like a fool in every Christmas play.” I started back on the shrimp. “They came though, right? To the plays?” “My parents? Of course.” It was a given. Family was there whether you wanted them or not. “Dad sometimes had to work but Mom was always front and center.” I wondered how Mom was doing with Greg. As long as Greg didn’t share he was an ex-priest he’d be okay. John’s cell rang and after a quick conversation he signaled for the check. “I’ve got to get back. I forgot about a meeting. Stay. It’s on me.” He dropped the tip on the table and met the waitress at the cash register. “Thanks,” I called. I was used to our quick lunches, dinner and chats. John was busy and so was I. He had potential. I just wasn’t sure what I wanted it to be. If anything. I wiped my hands on a napkin and dug out my cell phone. The curiosity and John’s negativity had me dialing Greg’s cell. “Hello?” he answered. “It’s me. How’s my mom?” I asked. “Did you think I’d lose her?” “No.” “Ditch her?” “No.” I stuck my tongue out at the phone. “I just didn’t want to overdo things on her or you.” I heard the phone rustle and then my mother’s voice. “Hi, dear. It’s lovely. I’ve seen the cemetery and the gardens. We’re just stopping for a bite.” “If you get tired, Greg will take you to the house or to the hotel.” “Oh no. It’s wonderful. After lunch I want to see the French Quarter and Bourbon 41
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Street.” She sounded content. “Okay. I’ve got work to do on the case so I’ll see you for dinner.” I felt neglectful but Mom wasn’t complaining. “Fine, dear. Bye.” Mom hung up the phone. I tossed my phone in my purse. No doubt Mom would run out of tourist things to do and be bored in a day or so. But for today I had an open afternoon to visit the scene of the crime. I dug out my keys and put my phone back in my pocket so it didn’t get buried in my purse. In five minutes I was out the door and on my way.
***** I parked a block down from the club and walked toward the police-taped entrance. Just my luck, Lara and Muriel loitered outside. “They won’t let you in,” Muriel said. With a quick smile, I slid under the tape and nodded to the uniformed officer. I got a nod in return and didn’t look back. Not much had changed inside. Things were numbered and the bar was taped off. No ghosts, no odd sensations. I moved closer to the bar and let the violence seep into my mind. Nemo’s killer was a woman. Her energy was completely female. That was no drag queen. The killer was deliberate and careful in her plan. Nemo was chosen. I’d been to the club plenty. There were women who went to the shows but since Katrina it’d been closed. There was no good reason for a woman to go in. I pulled out my cell and dialed Charlie. “Any news?” he answered on the first ring. “No, sorry. But I’m at the club. How can I talk to the people who were around?” “The cops wanted a list of people who had access. They’re all going this morning and then the one that was there is coming to my place. You can come over whenever. No cops.” “Okay. I’d like to pick your brain. Where do you live?” I jotted down the address on a notebook from my purse and closed the phone. When I walked around the side of the bar, I saw pieces of the Patron bottle on the floor. Under the bar, something caught my eye. It was a cross on a chain dipped mostly in blood. Why was it on the floor? Nemo had two other gold chains still around his neck the other night. Thank God cell phones had cameras. I focused as best I could without crossing the tape and snapped a picture. Why had that chain ended up on the floor? I wandered through the backstage area, past the dressing rooms where I’d held Ivy’s hand before she went on as the headliner. It was familiar but I’d never seen it 42
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empty before. There was nothing giving off flares back here—but I didn’t want to leave through the front door. Let Muriel and Lara stew about how long I’d stay. I walked out the back door, where liquor deliveries were made, and through the alley a block, then rounded to the street. As soon as I got in my car, I sped toward Charlie’s grand apartment. It wasn’t far, still close to the French Quarter. I stopped at the bakery on the first floor to get an assortment of sweets and then headed up. I pressed the doorbell and the door opened. There was Charlie in a black T-shirt and black jeans. “Hi, De. You’re quick.” Charlie stepped back and let me in. “And you brought sweets.” “Calories don’t count in mourning.” I handed over the box. “So I hear.” He ushered me to the red sofa and a coffee table weighted down with all sorts of goodies. “Sit, sit. You know Ivy. The only other person in the bar yesterday, other than the contractors, was Tony Church here. He was stocking the liquor in the back room.” Tony gave me a pained smile. “Hello.” I sat next to Ivy on the sofa with Tony across from us. “Hi. So you were there yesterday?” “Yes, in the afternoon. I left before dinner. Everything was locked up tight. The contractors were all gone.” Tony was a slight man, blond and fair. He seemed shellshocked. “You checked that everyone was gone?” I asked. Tony nodded his head of spiky hair. “Nemo was compulsive about the contractors. Only those employees he trusted opened and closed the place. And one of us was always there if any of the contractors were. Even under rehab. The place was empty when I closed up.” “What about you, Charlie? You came to the club—so you knew Nemo would be there?” I took a sugar cookie. “Absolutely. Nemo checked the place every night. He never got out of the habit. He’s a night owl. I was doing my show at the other clubs so it was fine. When I was done, I stopped by the club and we’d come home together. It was routine.” Charlie handed me a bottle of designer water. “Thanks. So it was all ordinary and dull. Anyone out to get Nemo? Enemies?” I chewed on the cookie. Charlie shook his head sharply. “No way. Nemo was strong but always fair. People came to him for help. He was respected and loved.” “It’s true,” Ivy cut in. “Nemo was very active in the city. Everyone knew him.” A good target. If possible, I hated publicity more and more. “I went by the bar and I noticed something odd.” “What?” Charlie sat on the edge of the sofa next to me. 43
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I pulled out my cell phone and showed him the picture. “Is this Nemo’s?” “That’s the cross he got at confirmation. His parents gave it to him. Nemo always wore it.” Charlie took the phone and stared at it. “Why is it on the floor?” “That’s the weird part. When I saw Nemo last night he had on two gold chains with other pendants. This one is broken and on the floor. The police have to tag it.” I didn’t think it was a coincidence—a necklace just fell off. No way! The gold chain was so thick it was clearly visible in the blood. “His parents will want it back.” Charlie’s voice caught. “Of course. Once we find the killer, they can have it back. I just don’t know why this one came off and the others didn’t.” I took out my cell and dialed Matt. “I have to get the cops on this.” “Matt Weathers,” he answered. “Hey, Matt, it’s me. I saw the scene. That necklace on the floor needs to be picked up before it gets tampered with.” “Yeah, I saw that in the photos. I think the killer cut it off or yanked it. I’ve got a team getting it.” “That chain is thick. Test it. Fingerprints, did it break or get cut.” “What’s wrong?” He knew I was after something. “Not sure yet. But there were other necklaces that were still on him. That’s the weird part. Check it out, okay?” “Already on it. I’ll let you know.” Matt hung up. “The cops are going to check that necklace out.” I took another cookie. “Anything else I need to know?” Charlie shook his head. “I talked to everyone. No one saw anything. The place was empty and locked. But the cops said there was no sign of forced entry.” “Whoever it was, Nemo let her in.” I stopped myself before I took another cookie. “Her? You’re sure. Was it a drag queen?” Ivy asked. “No. The killer was all woman with the original equipment. Any women have access?” “No. All the staff is men. DNA-wise.” Charlie shrugged. I had one more question that I couldn’t work easily into the conversation. “I’ve got a dumb question here for you, Charlie.” “Anything.” “Have you had any problem with snakes in the club since the flooding?” I asked. Charlie shuddered. “Yuck. They found a dead one when the water drained.” “But not since then?” “No, of course not. Once the water went down, we cleaned it until it was hospital clean. You know Nemo. And they had no reason to come back. The cops asked me if I
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had a pet snake. What’s going on?” Charlie looked worried. “They didn’t tell you?” “No. What?” Charlie stood in a huff. “It’s better you don’t know. They’re keeping it out of the press. Only the killer would know this info so that’s good.” “De, I want to know what happened to my Nemo.” Charlie stamped his designer loafers. “No, Charlie. Once your alibi is confirmed and you’re cleared it’ll be fine. Trust me. Until then you don’t want to know.” I grabbed my purse. “I need to go. I’ll keep you posted.” “We understand.” Ivy air-kissed my cheeks. “You know what’s best.” “Thanks.” I gave Charlie a quick hug and headed out the door. In the quiet of my car, I knew Charlie would be off the hook soon. He didn’t know about the snakebite. There was no obvious lead on the killer and no regular women in the club. I needed more info. Who would Nemo let in? What woman would come by late at night? There was only one place left to dig. I headed home and hoped for quiet. I needed a little alone time.
***** Gran greeted me at the door. “You look tired.” “Thanks.” I was tired. “I need some help on this one. Nemo’s still reorienting?” “Yes, dear. Quit looking for the easy way out.” “I’m afraid that’s a generational imperative. I had a microwave put in too.” I flopped on the sofa and stretched. “What do your instincts tell you?” “Muriel is bad news.” “Yes. And?” “Nemo was killed by a woman. He had to let her in. She got him with a snake, enough to cause him to go into shock. He was near to the bar and she was strong enough to push him up on the bar. Broke the bottle of tequila and slashed him. Nemo is very slight. Thin and short. Maybe one hundred and forty pounds total.” “And the necklace?” Gran asked. “Snooping again? Yeah. The killer yanked or cut it off. I just don’t see the killer. Every time I try to turn it around, I get these flashes of Muriel.” I was pissed at myself. My own publicity problems were getting in the way. “You’re trying too hard. Focus on something else.” She studied the oversized flat HD television. Gran had added modern kitchen appliances but skipped the microwave
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and entertainment equipment. Things I couldn’t live without. “Like what?” I kicked off my shoes. “You don’t like going to the Other Side when you’re asleep—you say it doesn’t leave you rested.” “I’m getting better at it.” The Other Side was nice. I didn’t mind going out of body but it did leave my muscles tight and my mind whirling. “I was just going to suggest that you might try it while awake. Get comfortable, relax and focus.” “Nemo is occupied. Who will I talk to?” I rolled my neck. “You never know who you’ll run into.” Gran faded out. “Get the Muriel part out of your system.” Gran didn’t like to give big hints. She wanted me to do this so I had to at least try. I relaxed and closed my eyes a bit. My mind searched for the bright light as I lifted up out of my body. First always came the waiting room. It was a huge dome of white with four doors. To the right was where I headed, I’d yet to learn about the other two—but the vibe I got was so negative I didn’t push it. The doors weren’t marked. I went to the one that felt like just visiting. The Other Side was a nice place to visit but I wasn’t ready to be a permanent resident yet. Once through the door, I was on Main Street. It was an ideal world with all types of architecture and landscapes coexisting in perfect weather. Gran’s house was a cozy cottage she shared with my grandfather. But I wasn’t about to bug them. Unfortunately I didn’t know who to bug. Nemo was unavailable and he was the only dead person I knew connected to the case. And Muriel wasn’t much better. Daughter and sister still alive. I needed to drop by on them soon. But Muriel had a husband who died. That was a start. There was no directory on the Other Side—no maps or information desk. I closed my eyes and focused on Muriel and Joan Jennings. Where was their family? Like a lot of things, I went on instinct. My feet moved and I ignored my head. Wandering down a quiet road, I spotted a log cabin and went toward it. I knocked on the front door and it opened. “Welcome, Dr. Oscar.” A tall man seemed to be expecting me. “Thanks, Mr. Jennings.” “I’m Brian. Come in.” The inside was as simple and rustic as the outside. “Sorry to bother you. I’m not exactly sure why I’m here.” I sat on the hard wooden bench. “My daughter came to you. I appreciate your helping her.” Brian had dark hair and misty eyes. Like everyone on the Other Side, he could control the age he appeared. Most people
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looked in their thirties. It took some getting used to but if I lived to be eighty-eight, I wouldn’t want to look that wrinkled and saggy for eternity. “Your daughter is very scared. Do you have any idea why Muriel thinks the baby is evil?” Brian shook his head. “After I died, my wife got a bit more religious. Sex out of wedlock is wrong to her. Add in a father who won’t care for his child and she believes the father is the devil.” “Is she mentally ill?” I asked in all seriousness. Eventually I’d get my Louisiana clinical psychologist license but Katrina had interrupted my plan. Some records were off-limits to me as of yet. “No. Katrina was a trauma for her. It’s made her very protective of her family. And others without means of protection. She believes it was her call to purpose.” “But you agree she’s going way overboard about the baby?” “Yes. She feels the extreme is necessary to survive. Thank you for helping Joan.” “No problem. Sorry to take up your time. I don’t suppose you’d know anything about Nemo’s killer?” I stood to leave, expecting a fast no. Brian shook his head. “Sorry. I can’t reveal all the stuff you want but I can tell you that you’re not on the wrong track.” “What do you mean?” “Muriel has changed a lot and she has a following. You know how she feels about sin.” Brian pressed his lips together and turned to his home. I took the hint and left. Beyond Brian, I knew no one who’d help. Nemo’s family was alive. Gran appeared on the street next to me. “Better?” she asked. “Not really. It’s not much help. At least I’m not on the wrong track.” I heard a scream and spun. Then I realized it wasn’t coming from this plane of existence. It was my mother in my main parlor. “I have to go.”
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Chapter Five I have no idea how, but I went from the Other Side to my house in no time. Still out of my body, I floated in the main parlor. There I saw my parents and brothers trying to shake me awake. It was a creepy sight—my eyes open and yet no life in my body. “How do I get back in?” I asked. Gran showed up next to me. “Just dive in. It’s your body. You’ll get used to it.” “Asleep I do okay, but this being awake…” I didn’t like it. To end the trauma, I dove into my body and felt myself gasp for air. “Did you choke?” Mom asked. “No.” I sat up slowly. “Get attacked by a ghost?” Frank asked. I took two deep breaths. “No.” “Is it drugs?” Dad asked. I glared at him. “Don’t start. There’s nothing wrong with New Orleans or the crowd I’m with.” “Astral projection.” Greg filled in the blank. “I’m only going to do that when I’m asleep from now on.” I stood and stretched. “Elinor didn’t like it either. You’ll get better at it.” Greg set down a bagful of souvenirs from voodoo dolls to a shirt with a huge shrimp on it. Mom had gone shopping. “Enough about me. How about dinner?” I didn’t feel like baiting Dad right now. “Our hotel has a nice quiet restaurant,” Dad suggested. “No. Please we have to go somewhere fun. Lots of music and real Cajun food. I saw quite a few today.” Mom said, sounding more adventurous. “Bud’s?” Greg asked me. There were pros and cons. Greg knew the owners at Bud’s well so we’d get a good table in the back. Plus it had all the music and character Mom wanted. The cons were Big Bud. Harmless but hard on the nerves. I nodded. “Bud’s.” My dad wanted to take the rental car so Mom and Greg went with him. I treated my brothers to a ride in my vintage convertible. “It’s a boat.” Eddie stretched out in back. “It’s solid and low.” Frank hung his head out the side like a dog. “What’d you guys do today?” I asked.
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“Nothing special.” Frank admired the white bucket seats. “We hit a few bars.” Eddie grinned from the back. “Ate lunch and had a few more drinks. We’ve got to come for Mardi Gras. All the topless chicks. Think of it, Frank!” “Yuck. You horny little creeps. Besides Mardi Gras is as touristy as you can get.” I pulled into the valet lane by Big Bud’s. “We are tourists.” Eddie sat up to check out the surroundings. “Even better at night. Can we hold on to the Jeep? We don’t have the cash to rent a car.” Eddie was honest and a beggar. “Fine. Just stay out of trouble. If you have too much to drink take a cab. I mean it. I’m not bailing you two out.” I got out of the car and saw Dad pull behind me. We handed over the keys to the valet and headed in. “Come on, De. You’re the only lightweight in the family. We can hold our own. Even Mom.” Frank put an arm around me and I could smell the Jim Beam. “I’m not bailing you out.” I only drank in order to dull my sixth sense. So I tended not to do anything harder than black coffee. Greg got us a table right away and while the boys got lost dancing, we got to our table and ordered drinks. “This place is so vibrant!” Mom looked at the boldly painted walls of jazz bands, alligators and masks. “The food here is great.” I was stuffed from lunch but I’d eat something or Mom would have a fit. “What is sweet tea exactly? I’ve been offered it all day.” Mom scanned the menu. “Iced tea with enough sugar to hurt your teeth.” I filled in. “Don’t do it.” Mom, a nut for dental hygiene, nodded. “You drink diet pop. How much sweeter is it really?” Dad wanted to be difficult today. As our waitress served the drinks, Dad did the unexpected. “Sweet tea, please.” “Well, all right, Mr. Oscar. Getting in the swing of things. Your daughter won’t touch the stuff.” Mama Bud slapped my dad on the shoulder. I even thought I caught a bit of a smile on his expression. “You did grow up here. You’re probably used to it.” Mom waved off his grumpy mood and ordered coffee. Greg nudged my elbow. “Good day?” I shook my head. “Nothing much. It’s a woman. No clues that are solid. It’s got the cops stumped.” “And you?” he asked. “I have a hunch. But with this Muriel and Lara issue, my focus is off. I went over to see what I could find out.” “And?” “And not much. Nemo is occupied. Gran’s quiet. I don’t know who else to bug.” 49
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“Mr. Delacroix, what exactly is your relationship with my daughter?” Dad blurted. “We’re just friends,” I cut in. “He lives with you.” Dad wasn’t done. “In a mansion with Ivy. Plenty of rooms. His apartment was destroyed in the flood. I’m helping friends. Get your mind out of the gutter.” Dad’s sweet tea arrived and he sucked it down fast without even a pucker. “I suppose. This John from last night was more attentive.” “Another friend, Dad. I don’t need or want that type of entanglement now. I’m just getting the hang of Gran’s old life. A murder is more important than a date.” “Doesn’t mean you can’t do both. Your friend Rebecca from high school just got engaged,” Mom added. Luckily Mama Bud arrived to take our order. We ordered for the boys, who I spotted on the dance floor. They pretty much ate anything you put in front of them. “One thing at a time, Mom.” I wanted to end the conversation. “How was the gun show, Dad?” “Fine. Very interesting new pieces coming out.” “No, no. We’re not going to talk about guns. I’ve heard nothing for two months but guns. You are going to dance with me. Show me how to do this Cajun two-step.” Mom pointed to the dance floor. “No, no dancing.” Dad folded her arms. “You dance or I’ll come with you tomorrow to the gun show and drive you crazy in front of all the macho boys and their toys.” Mom usually got her way and today remained undefeated as Dad stood and lead her onto the dance floor. “He’s pretty good.” Greg watched them as my mom tried to find the rhythm. “He’s from here. I keep forgetting that.” I watched my parents enjoy each other to a funky Cajun two-step. “I can’t dance to save my life.” “That’s okay. Killers and ghosts don’t generally want to tango.” Greg sipped his sweet tea. “No. But somehow I’ve got to out-maneuver Lara and Muriel while I solve a crime.” My body was present but my mind was trying to unlock two problems at once.
***** I slept in the next morning. After a night of food, loud music and dancing—I needed sleep. Ivy had people to check on and Greg had an early class to teach. So luckily my house was empty, except for the ghosts and me. At least I thought I was alone. The opening of doors and rustling of bags made me pay attention. More centered from rest, I knew it was only Mary Lou. If Lara or Muriel ever learned I didn’t lock the doors I was in trouble. Until my house ghosts got hold of them anyway. That could be fun. 50
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“Hello!” Mary Lou sung up the stairs. I forced myself into a seated position. “Up here.” “Sleeping late.” Mary Lou opened the bedroom door and deposited a few wardrobe bags on the foot of my bed. Then she crossed to open the curtains of the French doors. My bedroom overlooked the back gardens. “Yesterday was long.” I reached for a hair clip on my nightstand and pulled back my messy hair. “What’s up?” “Your image.” Mary Lou turned to study me. “I’m not exactly dressed for inspection.” Looking down, I was in a pair of Chicago Cubs lounge pants and a matching T-shirt. “I don’t mean now. Since this reporter is covering you, you need to dress better.” Mary Lou began unzipping bags. “Have I hated you for that reporter yet?” I grabbed a bottle of water off my nightstand and sipped. “Please. Publicity is good. You’re just not playing to it.” Mary Lou was as close to perfect as any woman I’d ever met—at least feature-wise. Blonde Barbie hair that was always flawless. Perfect figure. Perfect outfits. Nails always manicured until they sparkled. Makeup and everything in place. If she weren’t a friend, I’d have put some Nair in her shampoo bottle just as a reality check. “I’m not playing, Mary Lou. There’s been a murder.” “It’s New Orleans, sweetie. There are murders every day. Not everyone requires your special attention. How often do you get press coverage of you solving a murder?” “I’d prefer never.” I watched as she laid out outfits that made my eyes hurt. “You need to dress a bit more professionally.” Mary Lou held up a navy blue suit with a white shell underneath. Another negative—it was a skirt suit. “Veto. I’m not dressing like some boring politician or politician’s wife. I’m tracking a killer not debating a bill. Comfort is key.” “Worn jeans and T-shirts. Muriel is more conservative.” “Muriel is older than my mother. Is my image this bad?” I pointed to a red and white suit that screamed for a button telling people who to vote for. “You look young, spoiled and impulsive.” She didn’t pull punches. “Shall I tell you what you looked like when John and I caught you and Greg testing the furniture strength?” It was a low blow but I’d been meaning to chat with her about that since the party. “You don’t need to. I saw it in your eyes. De, you just don’t understand this society.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “Guilty. But I’d imagine adultery is defined the same in both worlds.” That was my Catholic schoolgirl coming out. It felt like something my mom would say. I was liberal in a lot of things but if you had a problem with a guy—you dumped him. Two men
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meant double the trouble. “Sorry, Mary Lou. Look, I get it. Lance is a hothead, arrogant and all the other bad stuff I’m thinking. We’ve all seen it. Then he goes up to Baton Rouge for months at a time. You’d get lonely, naturally.” “It’s not lonely. I prefer him up there with his mistress. It’s so much easier when we’re apart. Then we’re together and it’s like the family takes over. It was working fine.” “How long have you and Greg been fooling around?” That was pure curiosity for me. “Remember the night Ivy debuted at the Long and Big Easy?” “Of course. Wow, that long ago? You’ve hid it well.” Frequently with close friends, my psychic gifts tended to twist what I saw. My feelings got in the way just like with the family. “It wasn’t a big deal really. Until Lance showed up for the party. Then Greg got weird. He even told Ivy about us.” “That bitch never said a word.” And Ivy couldn’t keep a secret. “Please, De. That’s his cousin. He asked her not to tell you. Around here, blood trumps about everything. Not that Ivy knowing changed anything.” Mary Lou shrugged. “And the night of the party. Greg got tired of playing second string?” I was getting the picture. “Exactly. He wanted to talk. At first it was a fight and then…you saw. He’s sexy and caring.” “Why stay with Lance then?” “You don’t get it, De. I have nothing. Had nothing. All I had was my mom’s deb legacy to get me a début. I won pageants for the money to afford the party. I had to score a rich husband or I’d be—” “Like Greg and Ivy? Me until Gran died?” I filled in. “Working for a living like the commoners?” She picked at a pin on a hideous teal suit I wanted to burn. “I wasn’t raised that way. You wouldn’t understand.” “That’s something I’d glad about. Sorry.” I saw my family’s expectation of college and Mom’s advice to make your own money, not to depend on a man—in a new light. I was glad I had my degrees even if I didn’t use them daily in my new life. “You think I’m pathetic. Dependent Mary Lou. Social director and hostess.” She waved a hand in front of her eyes to keep back tears. “No. I don’t think you’re pathetic. You don’t give yourself enough credit.” I leaned over and hugged her. I was sniffing a lot of one-hundred-dollar-per-ounce perfume. “Look, I don’t want that life. I’m glad I was a middle-class kid. If you tell my parents that I’ll have to kill you, but it’s true. Mary Lou, you’re smart and don’t miss a thing.
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You don’t need Lance. You could have a different life if you tried. I wouldn’t trade independence for anything.” “The Weathers family is very powerful and we’ve got a pre-nup.” “All in his favor I’m sure.” She nodded. “I’m safe. I’m comfortable. And I’m good at what I do. Lance doesn’t care about Greg. He only cared that others might find out.” “What about Greg?” “I’m not sure he knows what he wants. Not long ago it was nearly you.” “Please. No ex-priests. My mother would die if I dated him. And then she’d haunt me. We’re really just friends. He’s sort of another brother.” “So your parents can influence you but mine taught me wrong?” Mary Lou shot me a look. “Not wrong. And it’s a Catholic thing with the priest. Trust me, when I put the brakes on I wasn’t thinking about Mom. A priest, yuck! You don’t have that hang-up. Blaming parents is a Catholic thing too. You really care for Greg?” She shrugged. “It’s not over.” I didn’t think it would be. “Your life. But next time I won’t try to cover for you. If Lance doesn’t care then I’m not going to protect John. You might want to lock the doors though.” “John did freak a bit. He won’t speak to me.” “Lost a bit of your sisterly shine, I think. He’ll live.” I looked at the outfits again. “But I’d rather die than wear any of these. So let’s work with my wardrobe and try to refine things. Okay?” Mary Lou took a deep breath. “Okay.” She went to my huge walk-in closet and I climbed out of bed to follow. Mary Lou understood a big part of New Orleans but I wasn’t about to be made over into the least offensive mix. Nor would I become a highsociety clone. I had bigger problems than style and I liked my clothes. Today, I had to pay a visit to Muriel’s cult. No matter what I had in my closet.
***** I parked the Hummer a few blocks back from Muriel’s compound. The convertible was too vulnerable if I upset Muriel’s flock. Already I could see a mass of people inside a homemade wooden fence as I walked slowly to the house. They didn’t feel dangerous. A simple carved sign on the front gate proclaimed, The Truth is Here. The house was patched with plywood and sheet metal in spots. But the surrounding lots were empty, washed away by the flood or bulldozed. The Ninth Ward wasn’t known for quality construction but this structure remained. The crowd watched as I reached for the gate. No one spoke or got in my way. It was just the opposite—they moved back, clearing a path to the front door. I couldn’t help
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but notice all were dressed in blue jeans and white T-shirts. Styles varied but I had an uneasy feeling. In Catholic school we had to wear uniforms, but we were kids. This had a Manson vibe. In jeans and a gray T-shirt I felt like I stood out. They all watched me as I knocked on the front door. I didn’t sense any danger and acted casual. Most cults didn’t get violent with outsiders unless provoked. The weatherworn door opened and a small stocky woman stared at me with serene eyes. It was Muriel’s sister. “Miss Agnes?” It was a cute Southern thing to call everyone “Miss” and I thought getting off on the right foot wouldn’t hurt. I could sense that this woman was a powerful force in the home. “Yes. Good day, Dr. Oscar. We’ve been expecting you.” She stepped back. It was like a bad horror movie where the audience was screaming for me not to go in. But I had to see what was going on inside. The power was here. “Thank you. Is Muriel here?” “No. She saw you were coming and felt it best she not be here just yet. Your moods are unpredictable.” Agnes closed the door. “I’m human.” I looked around and saw nothing but worn-out furniture and boxes of supplies. “Hard work taking care of all those people.” “Yes, but the truth is the reward.” Agnes didn’t move, didn’t offer me a drink or a seat. “The followers aren’t allowed in the house?” I asked. “At night and for some special meals. We are meant to enjoy nature and commune with it. Most followers sleep in the splendor of nature as well.” Agnes didn’t look like she’d see sunlight in ages. She was in a long-sleeve white shirt and blue jeans that went to the floor. Gloves were the odd touch. “You’re not out enjoying nature.” “Lupus. Some of us aren’t in harmony with nature. My burden.” She took a few cautious steps toward me and studied my T-shirt. “Jesuits?” I looked down and realized that my choice of the Loyola T-shirt Eddie gave me might not have been the best. Why he wanted four more years of Catholic college I never understood. But at least now I could pay for it. “My brother goes here, I didn’t. Thirteen years of Catholic school were enough.” “We don’t object to other religions. My sister brought the truth to us first. It will spread to all.” “How tolerant. I don’t mean to intrude. I’d heard about Muriel’s ministry and wanted to see things for myself.” I walked into the living room and glanced around into the dining room. More boxes and nothing luxurious. Maybe Joan’s story of money was an exaggeration? “Nothing like your mansion, I’m afraid.” Agnes didn’t offer a tour.
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I felt drawn to the upstairs but sensed Agnes wouldn’t let me get that far. If they were taking wealth from their followers—they were hiding it up there. “Where did Muriel run off to?” “She’s participating in a healing treatment. One of our flock is in extreme pain with arthritis throughout her body.” Healing? “What about you? Has your sister tried to heal your disease?” Agnes’ head shook slightly. “Just as you cannot see all of the future, my sister cannot cure all ills. As someone close to her, I may be her burden.” Burden—Agnes liked that word. Did they consider Joan and her “evil” baby a burden? “That’s what family is for. So this truth idea. Probably hard to explain.” I needed to get Agnes talking. “It’s as simple as breathing. Nature is God. Nature is always right. We must accept that we are a part of it. We must not alter nature if possible. All creatures and forces of nature exist for a purpose. Katrina was brought to wash away the sin.” I had to tread lightly. “Sin?” Agnes nodded slowly. “All the drugs, the sex, the poverty and the crime. We were not put here to abuse our bodies or each other.” “Sex seems pretty natural.” The psychologist in me hated philosophy. The purpose of a cult often started very clear and good in theory but quickly morphed because of the leader’s warped personal philosophy. Once programmed, true followers were hard to de-brainwash. “In marriage it’s the sacred way to bring life. But other ways… No, it’s temptation. And that murdered man…” Agnes shuddered. “My sister is so good to help those sinners. I do not have her vision. Man and woman fit together. That’s nature.” “Actually that’s biology. Human nature is more complex.” I began to pace the room—not trapped but I felt like I was getting nowhere. “So you’re not throwing me out but you’re not showing me around. And Muriel doesn’t want to talk to me. What are we waiting for?” The back door opened and I jumped. I hadn’t lived in the mansion for long but I’d adapted to the space. This house was much smaller and unsettling with so many people around outside. A tall and familiar black man entered. He ignored me and nodded to Agnes who nodded in return. It was Dan, Cel’s son. I’d met him in the middle of my first case. He was clearly devout. I could feel his singular focus on the house and people. I’d say he served as security but he was missing his right arm below the elbow. That was new. Last time I’d seen him he was a whole doctor. He was still large and strong. Was I being asked to leave? “Problem?” I asked. “No. My sister is back and wants to see you. She’s in the garage. He will take you.” Agnes shuffled toward the kitchen.
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“Okay, thanks. Nice meeting you.” I followed Dan, unsure if I should try to talk to him or if it’d get me into trouble. Casually, I felt for my gun, still tucked in the back of my jeans. Louisiana had liberal concealed carry laws and I got my permit not long after I’d moved. “You’re armed?” his deep voice boomed. “Yes. Not everyone likes a psychic. Don’t you remember me?” “Yes. You found the man who killed my niece. My mama died in the flood. You will have no trouble here. We’re about the truth. And in this city Catholics are the majority.” “True enough in New Orleans. This is about solving a murder, not religion for me. I’m sorry to hear about your mother.” I couldn’t believe Cel’s son turned to this cult. His mother was kind and loving. “In New Orleans, it’s always about religion.” He opened the door to the ramshackle garage and waited. Clearly I was to go into the dark garage alone. The hissing was bad but the rattling—that was a dead giveaway that I didn’t want to be there. Snakes and I didn’t get along well. My eyes adjusted to the darkness. They kept snakes, I remembered Joan saying that. I exhaled slightly, odds were the snakes were caged. Just in case, I reached for my gun. Slim and automatic, the Kel-Tec .380 was just right for humans or snakes. “Hello, De.” Muriel flipped on the lights and I squinted. A wall of snakes in aquarium cages of all sizes. Ever since my close encounter rescuing Greg from a rattlesnake, I wasn’t too fond of reptile company. But I knew I could shoot them if need be. I saw Muriel leaning on the glass and lowered my gun. No loose snakes, but the human was dangerous. “This is how you keep your followers in line?” “Hardly. They are all voluntary followers. No one is forced to stay. We only want to help. You, on the other hand, are just nosy.” “Not nosy. Your friend the reporter is the one who dragged me into this. I’m just checking out the competition.” “Not bad, huh? A loyal following. Rescuing animals as well as humans. Solving a murder. I understand that’s threatening.” “Threatening, my ass. You solved it? Then I’ll go home and no more Lara.” I grinned and put my gun back in the holster. “I told you it’s a lover. So obvious. It was in the paper. Nemo’s will left everything to that drag woman. Who else has a motive?” Muriel craned her neck in superiority. “Charlie didn’t do it.” I walked to the glass and made plenty of snakes tense. There was quite a variety. Cobras and pythons. “Are all these native snakes to New Orleans?” “Certainly not. My initial collection was. But homeless pets also crept onto my land. Some owners never came back for them or didn’t survive the storm. Pretty, aren’t 56
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they?” Muriel watched me closely. I tried to calm my nerves. The snakes weren’t dangerous in their cages. As I calmed down, so did they. “A snake charmer too?” she scoffed. “Hardly. Just a psychic who’s good at what she does.” “But you haven’t solved the case either,” Muriel shot back. “I’m working on it. You know, it’s the weirdest thing. I never see any ghosts around you. I have two at my home who are permanent and an attic full of others. My grandparents were at my birthday party. I feel zero ghosts here. I see none.” “Maybe you’re a bit limited? I don’t need to keep ghosts to do my bidding. My power is stronger than that.” “Maybe.” I shrugged. “Do you see Nemo’s ghost ever?” “Of course. Who do you think led me to that Charlie thing? The victim wants justice. The soul seeks the truth.” She lied well, but I still had a liar on my hands nonetheless. “Nemo won’t help you with any proof about who killed him though?” “They aren’t as concerned about what happened here. The dead know we’ll all be judged in time. Justice is a human issue. Eternal judgment is what counts.” Muriel had a pat answer for everything. Standard cult leader actions. All the answers to all the problems. “Then why do you try to find the killer? If God exacts the judgment, then isn’t that good enough for you?” She paused. “For the victim yes. For me yes. But the offenders—they need help. To change. To not harm more.” No argument there. “Agnes said you were out healing one of your flock. And you minister to criminals as well?” “To every soul in need.” Muriel smiled widely. I didn’t want to step on any toes with the sarcasm running through my head so I changed the subject. “Okay. Then why keep all the snakes? The world is safe again. You can’t release the indigenous ones?” “I could but they serve me well.” “Serve you?” This woman had a screw loose somewhere. She was on the verge of a cult leader and had snakes for her Kool-Aid solution? “They are a test of faith.” She tapped on the glass in front of a hooded cobra. “Faith test. Multiple choice sounds nicer. All of your followers are faced with a snake test?” Not even original. Just my luck. I hated snakes. “No. Only the ones with shaken faith are tested. You see snakes are quick judges of nature. They know when to fight and when to flee.” “So the test is?” I wanted to keep her talking. 57
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“Put your hand in a cage. If you’re bitten, you’re a nonbeliever. If you’re left alone, you’re pure. If the snake flees—you’re an instrument of the devil.” Muriel put her hand in a cage and the snake didn’t move. “Your turn, Dr. Oscar.” Oh, this bitch was crazy. “I don’t think so. My friend almost got bitten in a swamp last year. So I’m a bit phobic.” “A phobic psychologist? Surely not, doctor.” “Are you kidding? Most shrinks are in therapy. You want to be academic about it? I don’t see the point of baiting an animal. Invading their territory is dangerous. They act only on instinct. It’s not a judgment. It’s self-defense.” She could call me chicken all she wanted but I wasn’t putting my hand near a poisonous snake. “My snakes aren’t ordinary. They see beyond territory to the soul. I’ve chosen them.” “Soul-searching snakes?” I tried to keep a straight face and figure out an escape. “Let’s see what you make of them.” Muriel pulled a lever and the bottom cages opened to allow the slimy things to roam free. I saw two rattlesnakes, one cobra-looking thing and another black one I didn’t like the looks of. It had rings on it too. I was in the middle of the room with the snakes between me and the door. I had to get out of this crazy snake garage. Too many to shoot without the others striking, so no gun. No back door so that was out. I took a slow step forward and the snakes moved closer—rattles sounded. Not a good sign. I began to sweat with tension. These snakes were long, standing one to two feet off the ground and that left plenty of them on the floor. I looked around for any help—a stick or something. What I saw was Gran and Grandpa. I took a deep breath as they distracted the snakes. Luring them away from me to either side, the spirits gave me a path. I stepped quickly to the door. Muriel glared at me and had no idea two spirits were even in the room. “You’re evil. The snakes fled.” “No, they were distracted by spirits you can’t see. You’re a fake, Muriel. Not a medium. I’ll bet not psychic either. Stay away from me or I’ll expose you publicly.” I walked out the door and rounded past the empty lots to my Hummer. Gran and Grandpa appeared in the backseat as I climbed in and locked the doors. I jacked up the air-conditioning like I’d been on a trip to hell. “She’s really dangerous.” “Stay away from her.” Grandpa nodded. I frowned in the rearview mirror. “Can’t. She’s involved in this somehow.” “I wouldn’t go back to that house. It’s far too dangerous for you.” Gran folded her transparent hands calmly in her lap. Throwing the SUV into gear, I shook my head. “How many people have been 58
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bitten? Died of a snakebite because of her and labeled unfaithful.” “You’re no good to others if you became one of them. You could’ve been bitten tonight.” Gran faded away and Grandpa followed. I’d hoped to find a harmless cult of handholding hippies experiencing free love and nature. Or just recycling and other charitable efforts. But I was now more than convinced. Muriel was behind this and not the most stable woman on the planet.
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Chapter Six My mind whirled on Muriel’s issues and the obvious feeling I had because of Nemo. Guilt. I drove on autopilot back to the mansion. What I needed was peace and quiet but what I got was a full house. I entered through the kitchen door and found Dad in a place I’d rarely ever seen him. At the stove—cooking. I dropped my car keys on the floor and looked around for a camera. Mom sat at the kitchen table tossing a salad. I turned to the rocking chair where Missy didn’t rock. She sat fuming. “Pick up your keys, dear,” Mom said. I grabbed the keys and put them on the hook. “What the hell is going on?” “Language.” Mom added shredded cheese to the lettuce. “My house, my rules. And when in life has Dad cooked?” Dads grilled but never slaved over a stove—especially when their wives didn’t work. I stepped closer to the stove and saw a huge pot simmering. “He wanted to cook.” Mom shrugged and added thick-cut croutons to her salad. “What is it?” “Red beans and rice. It’s Monday, isn’t it?” Dad had a bit of Cajun in his voice. I’d never heard it before. “Right. Why do they eat red beans and rice on Monday anyway?” I asked. “Tradition. Monday was laundry day—mothers could leave this dish on the stove and get the washing done with a good meal at the end of the day. I know a few things about this place. Not that I want to live here.” He looked at me as though there were more things I didn’t know about him. I wanted to say it wasn’t my fault he didn’t share. That he could’ve brought us kids down here on any summer break. Shown us New Orleans and all this side of our heritage. But it didn’t seem worth the argument. Dad wasn’t fighting my new world so far, so I would play nice. “Okay. Let me know when dinner is ready. I’m going to change.” “Oh, Deanna, I checked and you only have Caesar dressing for the salad. No French or Italian.” She frowned. “I only like Caesar dressing. I didn’t know you were coming to visit.” My neck began to tense. Mom held up her hands in surrender. “It’s okay. I just made a list. Ivy ran out.” “Mom? Ivy isn’t your housekeeper.”
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“She offered. She was running out to see that Charlie fellow. He called and she was out the door. But she’ll be back soon. You need a variety of dressings. Salad with every dinner.” She shredded bits of carrot into the salad. “Okay, Mom.” I forgot what a salad freak my mother was. We swore she was part rabbit. All during college I’d boycotted salad just for a break. I trudged up the stairs and pulled off my clothes. Hopping in the shower, I washed off the snake tension and dried quickly. In fresh jeans and a T-shirt, I ducked back into the bathroom and dried my hair. Back in the bedroom, Missy was cleaning up after me already. “They’ll be gone soon.” I knew Missy wouldn’t be happy with her kitchen being taken over. Ivy and Greg let Missy run the housekeeping and it worked out. I never got in the way. “They just showed up and started cooking.” Missy put my dirty clothes in the hamper and hung up my wet towel. “I know—they do that. Ignore them. It’s easier.” I dabbed powder foundation over my face and took a deep breath. “Did you solve the murder?” Missy knew she couldn’t change the fact that we had visitors. “Not yet. I’ve got a hunch though.” The doorbell rang. Mom was locking the front door again. “I’ll get it.” Missy seemed content to clean on the second floor so I made my way down the stairs and opened the front door. It was Ivy. “Sorry. Mom likes to lock things,” I explained. Ivy bounded in and hugged me, decked out in a wraparound skirt and electric blue top—her heels were dangerously high. “Hola, De!” “Sorry Mom sent you out for salad dressing. She loves her salad.” “No problemo.” Ivy lifted a bag of at least five bottles. “Besides I’ve got great news!” “Ivy, thank you.” Mom came up behind me and took the bag. “This is great.” “Happy to help, Mrs. Oscar. We’ll set the table.” Ivy volunteered. “No, no. You girls go talk. I’m so bored and that husband of mine won’t let me near the stove.” Mom walked off to the dining room. “Your family is fun.” Ivy grinned. “Okay.” Fun wasn’t the first word to come to mind. I glanced into the main parlor where my brothers were watching some sporting event on the big screen. “Second parlor.” In the large room, I closed the door behind us and enjoyed the quiet. “I need a drink.” “Me too!” Ivy sashayed over to the bar and poured two rum and diet pops. “A
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toast.” I took my glass. “To what?” “Charlie was cleared as a suspect.” Ivy clinked her glass to mine. “That’s great. Not a shock but good that his stress is over there.” I sipped the drink—Ivy mixed stuff stronger than I could drink. A knock on the door ruined my semi-quiet. “Yes?” I answered. The door opened and Greg’s head popped in. “Dinner, ladies.” “Thanks.” I took one last sip and set the glass down. Ivy glided toward the door and I followed with less enthusiasm. The formal dining room was one huge showroom I’d rarely used. Formal parties weren’t my style but my mother had set that table so we assembled around it. I sat at the head and felt a little odd. But Dad didn’t argue. Seven bottles of salad dressing adorned the center of the table. Mom served and the silence was uncomfortable. “Ivy just told me. Charlie was cleared.” I didn’t know what else to talk about. “That’s good. I wouldn’t want you letting a murderer in the house.” Mom set a bowl of red beans and rice in front of me along with a huge salad. “Charlie still wants you to find out who did it.” Ivy poured dressing on her salad. “Of course. Nemo deserves that much. Is the club going to reopen on schedule?” I asked. “Actually that’s the other thing.” Ivy blinked her false eyelashes at Greg and then back at me. “Charlie doesn’t want to stay. It’s too painful.” “Is it even his to reopen? Didn’t this man have family?” Dad asked. “Yes but he also had a will. Everything went to Charlie.” Ivy sipped her glass of sweet tea. “So he’s going to do what? Sell the club?” I picked ice water over the sugar-laced tea. “He wants to move upstate near some friends and a sister. It’ll be a real loss to the city.” Ivy sighed loudly in my direction. “Yeah, that’s awful. Not a lot of buyers around here these days.” Greg shook his head. I sensed a plot and grabbed the Caesar dressing. I mixed my salad and dug in. “I’m sure he’ll find a buyer.” I took a big bite to avoid more talking. “I don’t know who. The word is all over the French Quarter and gay community but no one has that kind of money. Even with insurance money coming through, the economy isn’t strong enough yet.” Ivy dipped into the main course and groaned. “Mr. Oscar, this is great!” “Thank you.” Dad grunted and shoveled food in his mouth.
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“You should buy the club, De. You’ve got the cash.” Eddie crunched his salad. “Me?” How did Ivy and Greg pull Eddie into this? “Don’t be ridiculous,” Dad grumbled. “That’s not a bad idea. Real estate is always a good investment.” Mom sampled Dad’s cooking. I took a long drink of water. Not quite sure what to think. “What do I know about owning a drag club?” “Good point.” Dad pointed his fork at me. Why did he have to agree with me? It was a challenge I didn’t need. “You hire someone to run it. You own the place and collect the profits. Your inheritance will run out eventually.” Mom was a mom to the core. “I don’t think so. I’m living off the interest. Not touching the principal so it’s really not going anywhere.” I tried Dad’s red beans and rice. It was good, nice mix of spices. “De. Come on. You can save the Long and Big Easy. I’ll run it for you if you want. No trouble, just real estate. The city needs it.” Ivy folded her hands and I saw them tremble. She was hiding it but this meant a lot more to her than a place to perform. “I’ll talk to Charlie. I need more information before I buy something that big.” Hopefully that would drop the topic. “De, don’t waste your money on a crazy club. It may not even be profitable.” Dad was busy being Mr. Negative again. “That’s why I’m going to talk to Charlie. I don’t have enough info. It might be very profitable.” I couldn’t let him tell me what to do. It would be my decision with facts in hand. Until then I wasn’t letting anyone bully me. “Don’t rush into anything. You’re in too deep with this whole mess. Plus after Katrina it isn’t the same as before.” Dad grumbled. “This is what I do. I solve crimes here. That won’t change—no matter how many dinners you cook or how many days you spend here. Or how many hurricanes blow through. I live here.” I set my spoon down and returned to my salad. “We won’t settle this tonight. What are the plans for tomorrow?” Greg did his best to play peacemaker. “Greg, no one but I will settle this. I’m the only vote. So why doesn’t everyone stop trying to tell me what to do.” It wasn’t just my family. Ivy and Greg had been living with me and I was burned out on company. Every one of them was full of advice. “Sorry, De.” Ivy glared at Greg. There was no easy escape but my tension level was rising. It was then that I felt Noah. The scent of rosewater filled the room. Mom cleared her throat. “What’s that? Is your ghost maid spraying rose air freshener?” “No, that’s Noah. He’s a house ghost. Generally he lives in the library but he’s
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protective of me,” I explained. “You’re not in danger. It’s just us.” Frank frowned at the open air. “It’s not just physical protection. He doesn’t like trouble in the house for me. Better be nice.” I smiled. “Or what?” Dad never backed down. As Dad’s spoon headed down, Noah pulled the bowl away. “What the—?” “I’m not sure Noah likes you.” I smiled. Noah pulled Dad’s chair, with Dad in it, away from the table. And when Dad tried to pull his way back to the table—he couldn’t. Mom and my brothers stared in shock. “Is he okay?” Eddie asked. “I’m fine. Damn it!” Dad grunted. “Noah, back off please.” I folded my arms. Noah released Dad and he flew forward. “Damn. Stop the tricks.” “Not tricks, Dad. Ghosts. My world is not like yours. If you can’t respect that, go back to Chicago. I’ll come up for Christmas but you can’t invade my home and try to tell me my life. This is my life.” “I lived here for years myself.” He pulled the chair back to the table. “And clearly the ghosts love you. It’s not dangerous or wrong. If you’re not comfortable here, don’t come.” I stood and stalked into the kitchen. At some point during the day, Missy had made jumbo corn muffins. I buttered one and ate it standing up. Missy had cleaned up the kitchen—reclaiming her territory as I’d reclaimed mine. Mom wasn’t one to let a dramatic exit linger. She walked in behind me. “You and your father. Too much alike.” That got my blood pressure going again. “No, we’re not.” “Stubborn. Smart. Resourceful. And very conscious of your place.” She gave me a knowing smile. “He’s closed-minded.” I didn’t want to be like him. “That’s his father’s doing. Play it safe. He wants you to be safe. Fathers and daughters are a conflict made to happen.” “You don’t have children to keep control of them forever. He’s got to let me have my life without interfering.” I grabbed a Diet Dr. Pepper out of the fridge. “He’ll get there. We both will. Running away doesn’t look good though.” I took a moment to think about it. “Actually I think it does. We’re adults and we needed space. He can’t win. He won’t stop arguing. And I need to think over the murder. There’s too much going on in the house. A screaming match won’t solve anything. Bottom line, I don’t want to talk until you’re talking to me as an adult.”
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“Go lie down. We’ll show ourselves out after dinner. No reason to be formal with family. Ivy and Greg are nice enough.” Mom walked back into the dining room. I needed to think. There was only one really safe place. I climbed the servants’ staircase to the second floor and headed for my two-floor library sanctuary.
***** I stewed in the library. That room always made me feel safe and centered. Noah lit candles and made the room smell of rosewater. A small fire flickered in the huge stone fireplace. But I lay there in a tense lump curled up on an oversized velvet chair. They knew what buttons to push. What they could or couldn’t get away with. That’s what made them parents. I’d thought Mom would be my bigger hurdle but it was Dad who was confusing me. He’d been the rock. I’d never once thought about having things. Clothes, food or toys. He worked and we had stuff. Nothing extravagant but life was simple. Dad was dependable. In college I’d just resented his dismissive attitude toward my gift. Now I saw him differently. He wasn’t all-knowing or final-word Dad. Not here. Here he feared things. He feared me a little. Which made him all the more defensive. A knock on the downstairs library door made me jump. “Go away,” I shouted. The door opened and I expected a brother or a fussy Ivy. But it was Dad who came up the spiral staircase. “Two floors for books.” “I guess I inherited that as well. I like it here.” Noah’s energy tensed and spiked. The door slammed shut. “Noah, be nice,” I said. Dad looked around uneasily. “Is it safe?” “Of course. What do you want?” He sat in a high-back wooden chair. “You’re an adult. Point taken. No one can make you do anything. It’s your house. And clearly you can handle it. And the ghosts.” He looked around as if a bat would swoop down at him. I rolled my eyes. “I feel a huge but coming on.” “I grew up here. Seven years. I was always afraid of this room. The ghosts. This one and the kitchen maid.” “They have names even if you can’t see them.” “It’s not easy for us. But it’ll be harder on you. The more famous you get the harder it gets. Kids teased me. My parents fought.” “So you moved where it was easier.” “In Chicago I could breathe. Be a normal kid. I wanted that for you.” I looked him in the eye, suppressing my anger. “I know. You wanted me not to have the gift. Even you couldn’t take it away. You couldn’t control that and neither can 65
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I.” “I wanted it to be easier for you. You’re smart, De. All those colleges wanted you to teach and you’re not even thirty. I’m proud of that. But this.” He shook his head. “I help people. Gran helped people. I don’t need a salary anymore. I’m set—you can worry about the boys.” “Doesn’t work that way. You’re always mine to worry about.” Part of me was touched and part of me was infuriated. “Don’t you think Gran deserved that? To see you. Me. The boys. You punished her for something she couldn’t control any more than I can.” It was all beyond our control. “She didn’t have to be so public about it. You’re getting the same publicity. It’s dangerous.” I held up a hand. “Stop it. You won’t ever be happy. Dad, I’m not going to do what you want me to. It’s my life. Stop trying to run it. You don’t want me to be a psychic. You don’t want me to own a drag club. You didn’t want me to get two PhDs but now you’re proud of that. Get the picture? I won’t be dictated to. I’ll do it my way. Make my own mistakes and everything.” He exhaled loudly. “I know, but the risk. Your luck can run out. At least run the club for profit. Life isn’t a big charity function. We didn’t raise you to be a spoiled socialite.” I looked down pointedly at my clothes. “Not exactly flying off to Paris to shop for each season’s latest and greatest, Dad. I’m me—now I don’t have to suppress it. I have the money to help people who really need it. Mom seems to be starting to get that.” “Your mother doesn’t understand the whole picture. I know what’s in the attic. I’ve been in there. I know what’s under the stairs. Deanna—I know. It’s not easy to think of you here. It’s not safe. And I don’t want your brothers getting pulled in.” “They don’t have the gift. To them it’s like a magic trick. You’re more in danger of them coming to visit for Mardi Gras and getting in trouble.” I knew my brothers—they weren’t the meddling type. “You wield more influence than you know. And the power.” Dad studied the room. “I’ve had it all my life—I know how to deal with it. I just wasn’t allowed to talk about it. But I’m not going to tell the boys their futures or anything. Life should be a surprise. I certainly won’t let them get mixed up in chasing a killer. That’s my job.” “You deserve better.” He hit his knee with his fist. “You deserve to be normal.” “I got over that, Dad. This is my normal. This is what I’m supposed to do. You don’t have to approve. Just stay out of my way. Or are you going to cut me out too? Like you did Gran. She did what she had to do and lost her whole family.” I didn’t want to believe it was possible. My mother and brothers wouldn’t. My father came down this time. I hoped that was a positive sign but he could be stubborn. “I wouldn’t do that. But you are the one who moved away and changed everything.”
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“I changed nothing except my address. This is what I am. You forced me to hide it as a child but you can’t—not anymore. I don’t need your money or your permission. Independence is a wonderful thing.” I folded my arms tightly. “It was for your own good.” He clenched his teeth. “No. It was for your good. It was easier on you. Lying was easier. Even inside the family. You knew and you denied it. Made fun of my ghosts as imaginary friends. Said I needed real ones. It was mean.” “I wanted you to fit in.” “And here I do.” I stood. “But you don’t. You’re Cajun but you’re still ashamed of Gran. People know it. They see it in you. Here you’re the embarrassment to the Oscar name. You abandoned your mother and never once visited her. Didn’t even attend her funeral. It’s a scandal.” “That was wrong but I didn’t want you around it. I blocked it out. The boys don’t need it. You kids—you’re my life.” “You wouldn’t have a life if it wasn’t for her. And you never once asked how she is. What she is. I can live with all of my decisions. I’m not sure you can. But don’t act like what you did didn’t hurt people.” “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “Get out.” I turned away. “Deanna, we’re not done.” His voice was stern. “Yes, we are. I can’t talk any more now. Get out of my house. Don’t make me ask Noah to help you.” I had to draw a line. The door closed a few minutes later and I left the library for my bedroom. I bolted myself in and changed. Curling up in bed, I needed to talk to Gran. Visiting the Other Side sounded safe after all the people in my house. I had the room to spare but I needed peace and quiet to deal with my gift.
***** I’d slept like the dead, having spent the night visiting Gran and Grandpa socially. Nemo was still out of commission. The next morning I checked my email from The Lotus Circle. An updated locals list. And some recommendations on self-protection. A metaphysical store called The Third Eye was on the list. The name popped out at me and I trusted my gut. I swung by The Third Eye but it wasn’t open at nine in the morning so I went on to the police station. Muriel had irritated me and I wasn’t letting up on her. I slipped through the crowd to Matt’s desk. “Anything new?” “Don’t you know?” he teased the psychic. “I know Muriel has a full-blown in-home religion bordering on a cult. Tons of people and a wall of live and venomous snakes. She set five snakes loose on me in her
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garage yesterday.” Matt lifted an eyebrow. “No law against keeping snakes.” “Letting them loose?” “Were they contained on her property?” “Yeah. In her garage.” “Nope. Religious meetings aren’t against the law either. Half the churches had to be rebuilt. People are meeting in all sorts of places while waiting on construction or insurance money.” He pulled out the file. No forward motion here. “Don’t religions need to apply for nonprofit status or something?” He glared at me with a look about his having bigger problems than that. “Are they holding anyone against their will? Hurting anyone?” I thought about Joan but there was no proof she was being forcibly held. She’d made it to my house without issue. Dan’s missing arm bothered me but that wasn’t proof he was being held. “I didn’t see any.” “You’ve been in and they let you leave. I got bigger gators to wrestle. You want to fight with her, do it in the media.” “I don’t want to fight but I’ve got a really bad feeling about this and she’s involved.” “You think she killed Nemo?” “She has a million snakes,” I pointed out. Matt flipped through the file. “The venom is unique for around here. Works on the heart and lungs—not the nervous system.” “She had all kinds of snakes in the garage. Not just local ones.” “The venom wasn’t the cause of death. He bled out first. Besides anyone can buy an exotic snake.” “And she just happened to know there was a murder at the Long and Big Easy.” “So did you. She’s either psychic or has a police scanner.” “Or she did it. Maybe it was a follower. But I know it’s someone connected to that cult. They have it in for Nemo’s type. And it’d be the perfect setup to get publicity for Muriel. Solve a murder by psychic powers. She wanted to pin it on Charlie.” “Charlie was cleared last night. Alibi checked out airtight.” “I know. So what’s her theory now?” Matt leaned in. “You need to calm down and think it through. I’ll look into Muriel’s cult. Keep an eye on the crowd that’s forming. I’ve already checked. No priors and no outstanding warrants. Not even a parking ticket. You better be damn sure before you go accusing her because it’ll be all over the news.” “Okay. So the snake would be cause to search though. Find the snake—find the killer. I can do that. Venom data. A picture of the bite please.” I stood with renewed 68
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drive. Matt pulled out two pages from the file and headed to the copier. “Be careful. Start with the lab guy if you want data.” He handed me the info. “Thanks.” I dashed off, ready to hunt a snake.
***** After a long and dull talk with a lab guy about venom proteins and properties, and a lecture about how venom is not a poison—I was really no farther along. I needed a snake expert—not a tox guy. I called John on my cell phone. “Good morning,” he answered. “I need a snake or venom expert. Know anyone?” John was familiar with my odd requests by now. “I’ll call you back.” I drove through for lunch and tried to relax. The snakes were out to get me in New Orleans. My phone rang as I was desperate enough to head for the nearest zoo. “Come get me. We’re going to see the Snake Lady.” “Sounds promising.” I hung up and drove to the courthouse. I never invited him to tag along so I didn’t ask if getting out of work was an issue. He was the judge so I didn’t think anyone would argue. He hopped in my car, dressed in a suit, and smiled. “Breakthrough?” “Nemo was bit. Muriel keeps a bunch of snakes. I’m trying to narrow down types of snakes and trace it to an owner.” “You think Muriel did it?” I merged into traffic with an eye roll. “I think she and her followers are out to prove a point and she’s a fake. She’s behind some of this.” John navigated and we pulled into a long drive with a small house set back near the bayou. Buzzing, hissing and rattling merged to a haze of noise. “What does the Snake Lady do?” I asked John. “I got a referral. She’s the expert—everyone says.” John shrugged. “I called ahead. She knows we’re coming.” We headed up to the house and I knocked on the door. “Ow!” a man shouted. “Just a minute,” a lady called. I gave John an uneasy glance. Snakes were not my favorite things. A tall willowy woman in her sixties led a man, half-naked and hunched over, to the door. “Take it easy. Next week, same time—we’ll double up. Okay?” “Next week.” He headed past us down the stairs. “You must be Judge Weathers and Dr. Oscar?” The Snake Lady turned to us. 69
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“Come in, come in.” She led us into the kitchen where we sat at a small Formica table. “Just let me clean up.” She picked up a jar off the table and I noticed something move inside. It was full of bees. On the table was a long pair of tweezers and a few dead bees on a towel. “What do you do with those?” I was a bit afraid of the answer. “Bee venom is very healing. As long as you’re not allergic, of course. It’s more than double the strength of cortisone shots and it’s all natural.” She cleaned up the dead bees and sat. “You stung that guy with bees?” John’s eyes grew large. “Of course. That’s why he came. It’s a wonderful muscle relaxer for arthritis, MS and a whole host of issues.” “How do you get into that sort of thing?” I was as stunned as John but clearly this woman knew her venom. “My mother suffered from MS for years. I was desperate to relieve her pain. I went online and found the bees. It’s amazing. I started raising them. Honey and stinging. It’s a good business. Tea?” “No, thank you.” I didn’t want to know what type of tea it was. Bee pollen? “So why do they call you the Snake Lady?” “Oh that? Well, after bees, I got interested in all venom. There are so many untested uses. Studies at major universities as we speak. But don’t worry, I don’t bite people with snakes for money. I milk the venom and sell it to places that make the antivenin. I just love animals.” “Did you lose any animals in Katrina?” I had a good sense about this woman’s connection. “A few. I evacuated and a couple of mine drowned. A few were missing. But quite a few stayed nearby. I picked up a few new ones as well. And we got the bees back to their hives, so good as new.” “How good are you at different types of snakes, their venom?” “Better than anyone in New Orleans.” “A man was murdered at a local nightclub. I’m sure you’ve seen it in the news.” “Of course, you and that other psychic are trying to solve it. What’s it got to do with a snake?” I pulled out the picture of Nemo’s swollen neck. “We know it’s not an indigenous snake. I was wondering if you could tell me what type of snake did it.” She studied the photo with my notes. “That swelling, the venom type and bite looks like a coral snake. Not indigenous. Hard to milk those.” “Do you have any?” “A couple.” She went into another room and returned with a slithering black
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serpent only a couple feet long. “This one isn’t fully grown yet.” John and I leaned back as she sat and held out the snake’s head pressed open for us to see. This was way too close. Suddenly I felt a jolt. That type of snake in the club. “The fangs aren’t like you expect. They can pump venom and are harder to dislodge.” I saw a drop of venom slide from the fang as the snake’s tail flipped on the table. “The snakes’ bite is consistent with the bite of our victim and the reaction he had?” I inched back. “Absolutely. There are a few similar snakes. It’s impossible to tell for sure. Unless you see the snake, the bite is hard to identify. If you see the progression of symptoms on a patient—the pain and swelling—it’s easier for someone experienced. But the man is dead so it’s not one hundred percent.” “Can you put him back, please? I’d like to see him in a cage.” I really wanted Toothy away from me. He wasn’t the specific offending snake but he wasn’t happy. “Sure. Come with me.” She headed and I followed to a back sun porch with lots of aquariums. The Snake Lady released Toothy back into his cage and I looked around. “Here are other corals.” She pointed to a large glass case. Those looked familiar. Muriel had at least one of that type. “Are they difficult to handle or transport?” “It depends. If you know the snake, they’re average. Not especially bad-tempered. But you can antagonize any snake to strike.” “Why would someone use a snake as a weapon?” I didn’t expect an answer. “No idea. Unless you wanted it to look like an accident. If you get enough venom into the system it’s a very effective weapon. Anything else I can answer?” “No, I think that’s it. Thank you. Hopefully I can solve this.” “Probably some other wild partier and a kinky form of revenge. Why else would anyone use a snake and then cut a guy up?” She shuddered. I found John and got out of there before any more show-and-tell. In the car, he finally started to breathe and I realized I was a bit green myself. “I hate snakes. What’s your excuse, bayou boy?” “Allergic to bees,” he managed. “Didn’t know. Sorry. You’re okay now.” I almost held his hand or rubbed his shoulder but couldn’t decide which to do. “Did you learn what you needed?” “Yep. I’ll drop you back at the courthouse and swing back by Matt. I need to talk to him.” Back to business. John seemed back to normal as he headed into the courthouse. I blocked out visions of Toothy and headed to Matt. I cornered him in the coffee room scrounging for doughnuts. “The snake wasn’t a 71
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weapon.” He gave me a blank look. “It’s a test.” I closed the door to the coffee room. “Test?” He poured himself more coffee. “Yes. Muriel tried it on me. When she let them loose. It was because I refused to put my hand in a cage.” “Smart woman. I always said that about you, De.” “No kidding. So she let some loose on the floor. If they attacked I was a nonbeliever. If they left me alone, I was pure. And if they fled, I was evil. That’s her idea of a test.” Matt lifted an eyebrow. “Test? Evil? What are you talking about?” “That woman is running a cult. She thinks I’m evil because I had my grandparents distract the snakes so I could leave. I’ll take evil over death from snakebite any day. But what if she tested Nemo the same way?” “Calm down. You think Muriel took a snake to test Nemo and when it bit him, she killed him?” “Yes. She’s got the snakes. I talked to a venom expert and she confirmed the type of snake that likely did this. And Muriel had one like that. She had a ton of snakes. Can’t you impound the snakes and compare the bite like dental records?” I heard it. It sounded a little crazy to me too but it was the best idea I had. If Muriel was out to stop the influx of gay culture returning, then more people could be in danger. “Why Nemo?” “He’s a prominent businessman and was putting out huge ads about the club reopening. And her cult is very anti-drag. They’ve got this nature thing. I know this case isn’t as clear as the last one.” “That was clear?” I glared. “But I do know that whoever did this doesn’t want the drag club to reopen. She wants to stop businesses like it from returning.” “She may win. I hear Charlie wants to sell and leave.” Matt adjusted his hat. He was thinking over my argument. “I know. See, she’s winning. If you don’t bring her in, Ivy could be next because Muriel wants to get back at me.” “I’ll check out the snake thing.” He sighed. “Bringing a snake to a club is premeditation. Crazy. I’ll get my lab guy to profile the snake venom and go by the book. I’ll check out Muriel’s alibi.” “Don’t worry, one look and you’ll see how weird this cult is.” I took a deep breath and let the tension melt away.
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Chapter Seven I emerged from the kitchen with corn muffins and coffee in hand. Ivy had brought the true junk food into the parlor ahead of me. Setting down my coffee, I plopped down next to her. “So where is everyone this morning?” Ivy propped her fuzzy-slippered feet on my coffee table as she scarfed another Dorito. Wrapped in a blue robe with a white towel wound around her head, Ivy had declared a girls’ day. I broke apart a corn muffin and shrugged. “Greg took Mom and the boys by to look at the Superdome. Dad’s at the gun show.” “You didn’t want to see the Superdome?” She rolled her eyes. “Not when they’re questioning Muriel today. I want to be home and enjoy the results.” I stuck to the dress code in lime-green lounge pants and a black T-shirt. “You’re sure Muriel did it?” Ivy asked. I wasn’t one thousand percent sure it was Muriel but who else? The evidence and my instincts all pointed that way. “It’s someone there. And she’s the only one who’d benefit. Look at all the publicity she’s getting over the murder.” “And that Lara bitch. I don’t like her.” Ivy sipped a diet soda as Oprah philosophized on my big screen. “You’d like her if that Lara bitch covered the club opening.” “Depends on if she takes Muriel’s side and shows us as depraved or not. Seriously we’re natural.” She pulled out a hand mirror and tweezers and plucked stray eyebrows. “You’re right.” Most of the time I forgot Ivy had a penis at all. But in small things, I got reminded that under all of the foundation and mascara was a male form. Large hands skillfully worked the tweezers. And I loved seeing Ivy get in a fight. Ivy packed a punch. “What if it’s not just Muriel? What if all her minions are out there doing hate crimes?” Ivy put down the mirror. “What if it doesn’t stop?” I patted her arm. “Don’t worry. So far it’s just been this one murder. Nothing in the news about an increase in attacks. If we catch her on this one, we’ll put a stop to it. Cults don’t want to be known that way. They want to look loving and innocent. I doubt it’d be a group effort. The leaders keep the power by letting the general population only know the good. A few close lieutenants at most will see the full dark side.” Ivy’s long nails were unsteady as she adjusted her nightgown. “But don’t those killers get a thrill? Serial killers, they get away with it and need to kill more. Torture people to get that high.”
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“That’s true if no one stops them. But serial killers aren’t cult leaders. They’re loners. A cult leader will cleanse their flock. Go after their followers first to keep absolute control. They’ll try to convert others as well but it’s more mental.” “But they can be violent. Rally the followers for the cause of right, right?” “It can evolve that way. They’ll try to influence their surroundings or they’ll remove themselves from society. But we’re not going to let Muriel get that far. She’ll know the cops are watching her and she doesn’t want bad press. Lara is a reporter— she’ll go after any story that’ll get her ratings.” “People are worried, De. Worried the club won’t reopen. Worried there will be more attacks on staff or customers if it does.” Ivy stuffed chips in her mouth. Now it made sense. “But if I buy it, Muriel might think twice?” Ivy bobbed her head while crunching. I rested my head on the back of the sofa. “I’ll talk to Charlie soon. I’m not promising anything though.” “Yippee!” Ivy dropped a chip and clapped. Her larger frame bounced the sofa cushion. “Easy. I’m going to spill my coffee.” I liked the idea of owning something. Having something that was mine, not what had belonged to Gran. It would be uniquely mine. But it meant a host of issues on top of the rest of my odd life. “A little more rebellion won’t kill you.” She stood up and skipped to the door. “I’m making mimosas.” “Just coffee for me.” “Irish?” Ivy offered. “No. Just black, please.” Just then my cell phone rang. I found it on the end table and answered it. “Hello.” “You’re not going to like this.” Matt’s gruff voice was slower than normal on the other end. “What? She got off on a technicality?” I’d be so pissed. “Worse. Her alibi is airtight for the time of the murder. We had to let her go.” “What?” Ivy mouthed from the doorway. “Muriel.” I mouthed back. I switched Matt to speakerphone. “What the hell do you mean she has an alibi?” “We saw her at the party until John asked them to leave. Then Lara and Muriel went to a restaurant. The waitstaff confirmed it. They were conducting an interview and Lara turned over the videotape with time stamp to prove it. It even shows Muriel getting up and leaving minutes before they turned up at the crime scene.” “That’s hard to dispute.” Ivy chewed her gel nails. “Crap. Any luck with the snakes?” I knew this would turn ugly. “She had a bunch of them. We cited her for keeping exotic or venomous pets 74
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without a permit. Minor fine. She’s letting all of those people stay on her property so we couldn’t even ticket them for loitering.” “And threatening De’s life with loose snakes?” Ivy cut in. Matt grunted. “Muriel said it was a joke. They never got near De. And she said De came into her garage with a gun pointed.” “I heard the snakes!” Of course it’d get turned around on me. “And it was dark in there. I had no way of knowing if the snakes were loose or not. Self-defense.” “That’s what I told her. Snakes or pit bulls, people have a right to defend themselves from dangerous animals. You didn’t fire, did you?” “No! She’s twisting everything. I went to the house and was let in. She’s the one who invited me into the garage. And she had the lights turned off, she was in the dark.” “Hey, I believe you. But Muriel’s the one bitching. Are we looking into your guilt as well?” “Oh no, she didn’t turn it around on De!” Ivy’s Latina temper broke free. “Not directly. But if we’re looking into one psychic—why not the other?” Matt didn’t sound as shocked as Ivy. “Please. I didn’t just jump in the psychic ring here. My powers didn’t just flip on during a storm.” “You got an alibi?” he asked. I blanked—actually I had no alibi. “I was at home asleep when I got the psychic murder vision.” “Home alone? Ivy and Greg were with you?” “We were out partying all night.” Ivy gave me a sympathy shrug. “Unless you take ghost testimony. No alibi.” I’d faced a lot of things but being accused of a crime wasn’t one of them. “Okay, well, we’ll give you a polygraph test and that’ll be good enough to shut people up.” “Did Muriel take one?” I asked. “No need. Her alibi was squeaky clean. You need something to defend yourself.” Enough about me. I’d take the test. “Did you suggest one of her followers might have committed the murder?” “I floated it. She said her followers aren’t violent. Her truth doesn’t allow harming others except in willing punishment for sins. Some nature bullshit but she had no idea who would do it. They try to convert people first. Muriel is sticking to her lover story.” “You cleared Charlie.” This was crazy. “She says there could be another lover. Do you see that?” I didn’t get any faithlessness from Nemo or Charlie. “No. No cheating. Someone wants to stop the Long and Big Easy from reopening. And it’s one of Muriel’s people.”
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“We checked ID on her people and we’ll run them for warrants, priors and all that. But don’t hold your breath.” Matt’s trust was fading. I closed my eyes and felt for the killer. I pushed farther into her mind—forcing Muriel out of the way as best I could. “It’s her first kill. You won’t find her that way. Whoever she is.” “So give me a way or both of you go home.” Matt huffed. “I am home. Call me if there’s anything more.” “Will do.” He disconnected. I snapped my phone shut. “Damn it.” “We all know you didn’t kill anyone.” Ivy handed me a vodka and orange juice. I downed it in a single gulp. “Not the point. My mom is in town. Not the best time to be a murder suspect.” Ivy gave me a sideways grin. “Is there any good time to be a murder suspect?” I felt a serious chill when Ivy said “suspect”. “I need another drink, please.”
***** One hour and two drinks later, there was a knock on the door. Ivy was five drinks ahead of me and engrossed in the Oxygen Network’s daily programming. There was no question who’d be on the other side of the door. Before anything else, I did what The Lotus Circle suggested and mentally drew a protective white light around myself. Then I made my way to the door and opened it. Showdown time! “Hi, Muriel.” I leaned on the door. “And I thought you’d at least play nice and respect my efforts.” She waltzed into the entryway of my home. I closed the door and watched her. “I do play nice. Don’t test me with venomous snakes and I’ll leave you alone.” “They’re pets.” “There’s a leash law in New Orleans, right?” Okay, maybe one drink too many. “For snakes? You didn’t get hurt. It was all in fun.” “I don’t laugh at deadly creatures. My fault.” “But you’ll accuse me of murder.” She got so close I could smell the flavor of her chewing gum. “Back off.” I stepped away from her. “You returned the favor. I’m not the one bringing reporters to crime scenes or giving interviews, Muriel. I don’t want the publicity. All I want is to help people.” “But you can’t solve the case so throw suspicion on me and my followers? Label us a cult. I know why you came by. Every penny I get goes back to the people. We share,
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you’d never believe me if I told you, so I let you see for yourself.” “You have an alibi and I’m taking a lie detector test so we’ll both be cleared. Just don’t lie and tell me that you’re sad to see the Long and Big Easy’s reopening delayed.” “Rumor is that drag queen is putting it up for sale.” She crossed her arms with a large grin. “No, not sorry at all. That’s the sort of thing we don’t need.” “So move. There’s a whole Bible Belt out there. You’ll find somewhere else to fit in. People come to New Orleans to eat, drink and party. You’ll ruin the economy.” Live and let live wasn’t working so I’d try economics. “All of those people out of jobs. Shut down every club while you’re at it. No liquor, it makes people do unnatural things. But where will all of those people work? Families without food because they owned a bar you closed? No tourism. The economy bottoms out worse because of what? Sin?” “One step at a time. The truth will open better ways to live.” Muriel lifted her hands over her head. The nausea was close. “Why don’t you and the truth-seekers go buy an island and do what you want?” I didn’t mean it. Deep down I wanted to help those over-trusting souls but free will was part of the human deal. I couldn’t force them. “We are to share the truth—not hide it. Share the love, the wealth. Everything.” “Communism sort of failed lots already. That’s not really new.” Muriel brought out my sarcasm. “Don’t insult my vision.” Muriel’s face glowed red. “You came to my humble home. Yours is quite luxurious.” “I was let in. I’d have left if you or your sister asked me to. Now you’re trespassing.” I reached for my cell phone. “She’s leaving.” Ivy appeared from the parlor and pushed Muriel to the door, opened it and pushed her out on the porch. I was impressed. Ivy never knocked Muriel over. “You could be a bouncer.” “I have been. It was my college job.” Ivy smiled at me and turned to Muriel. “And stay out or we’ll send the ghosts after you.” “Don’t worry. After Lara runs her piece on my false accusation, you’ll have plenty of reporters harassing you and adoring me.” She stalked down the steps to her waiting Cadillac. “No money, my ass.” Ivy rolled her eyes. I shut the door and headed for the television. It was noon, just in time for the local midday news. “Two psychics, one murder and still no answers. Things are getting desperate and mean in the Nemo Mandes murder investigation. We’ve learned today that Deanna Oscar, local hero, accused Muriel Jennings of the murder. Police confirm they’re looking into the whereabouts of Dr. Oscar on the night of the murder as well. We’ll bring you a full interview with the innocent Mrs. Jennings on our ten o’clock program.” “Bitch!” I muttered. 77
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“Either she goes or I’m moving to San Francisco.” Ivy threw up her hands. “De?” Mom’s voice cut through the air like a knife. She’d heard the news? I had some explaining to do. “Lunch?” I offered.
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Chapter Eight “Where are Greg and the boys?” I asked. “Tulane. We saw the university but they stayed behind for some sporting event.” Mom set her purse on the end table. “What did that reporter on TV say?” “It’s no big deal, Mom. I have a strong sense that Nemo’s killer is connected to Muriel and that cult of hers. But her alibi checks out. She’s pissed off at me for accusing her and wants me checked out. It won’t take long.” I readjusted my hair in the ponytail holder. “What sort of people are you associating with, Deanna? We weren’t Gold Coast but we didn’t put you around crazy cult people and potential murderers. Buy the drag club. It’s safer and more respectable.” I almost laughed when that came out of my mother. “Would you say that if I were a cop or nurse?” “No but that’s different. You don’t need to work for a living. If you want to work, teach at Tulane. Greg said they offered you a part-time position.” I looked to Ivy for help. “Lunch,” Ivy suggested. “Missy has been hard at work since Mr. Oscar vacated the kitchen.” Mom nodded. “Why are you girls not dressed?” “A girls’ day in, Mom. I never had a sister.” I followed her to the kitchen. Missy dished out steaming bowls of jambalaya and cornbread muffins. We sat and ate for a few minutes in silence. “You don’t want to teach?” Mom asked. “It’s not that. I can do this psychic crime-solving thing. It’s hard but it’s worth it. Teaching is the easy way out. Any PhD can drone on and on in front of a class about Freud.” I couldn’t really eat. “Since when is easy bad?” Mom pointed out. “De, I’m supportive but you seem frazzled and very confused.” “Usually my psychic stuff is clearer.” I took a corn muffin. “At least it’s a challenge.” “It’s not always that easy. Elinor had a lot of frustrating cases. You can’t give up. Trust yourself.” Ivy served herself a second bowl. “I have been but I keep coming up short or off. I can’t prove anything yet.” “Maybe you’re not supposed to solve this murder. Maybe this other woman is and you’re getting in the way.” Mom sounded hopeful. 79
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“I wish. That woman can’t see, hear or even feel a ghost. And she’s leading a bunch of people down a crazy and self-serving path.” I couldn’t save Nemo but there were others. “And it’s landing you in a police station to take a lie detector test? Buy the drag club.” “You already said that, Mom.” I got a Diet Dr. Pepper from the fridge. “I know. I mean it. Buy a few businesses and delegate. You’ll have income, plenty of things to keep you busy and no criminals.” Mom was a mom. “I know but it’s not that easy when you get a vision of murder and pain. I can’t ignore it, Mom. I can’t just go and teach or run a business. The gift isn’t returnable. It’s my problem.” Mom sighed. “Well, as much as I wish I could take away your problem, I can’t take that vision thing away. You don’t want to leave, do you?” I leaned back in my chair, desperate for peace and quiet in my mansion. “No, Mom. I don’t want to leave. Tell Dad I’m not leaving.” “That’s not him asking, it’s me. Tulane is a lovely campus. So is Northwestern. But you’ve always been the difficult one. Had your own way of looking at things.” “That’s me. Not easy on this end either. But I’ll get the lie detector thing over with and focus on finding the killer.” Mom could push every button when she was in this mood. “Why do you think you’re so distracted? If it’s usually easier for you then something must be different.” Mom changed the subject—classic maneuver when stuck in a corner. I rubbed my eyes. “All the people. You want the truth? It’s all the people around. I used to be alone here with the ghosts and my brain. Then Katrina hit and Ivy and Greg came to stay. They understand. But you and Dad.” “We’re disruptive?” Too much honesty would be dangerous. I didn’t need more problems. “Look, Mom. It’s great you came to visit. But it’s hard to focus on a case with family dropping in. It breaks my concentration.” “We can leave whenever you want.” “That’s not the point. I know you guys can show up at any time so I can’t really let my guard down. Open my mind. I went to the Other Side once and you nearly had a heart attack.” I waved off the topic. “What do you mean?” Mom asked. “I can go visit Gran and other formerly living people. That’s where I was when you found me in the chair. It’s called astral travel.” “You go out of your body?” Mom’s face scrunched. “Yep. Since you’ve been in town, I’ve gone a lot less. I feel disconnected.” I rolled
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my tense shoulders. “You should go. Stay connected.” Ivy patted my arm. “I know, it’s just hard. I’m not blaming you, Mom. But I do better without distractions or pop-ins.” “We’ll be leaving soon. Are you at least going to come to Chicago for the holidays?” Mom had her priorities. “Sure, of course. And I want you all to stay until this mess is over, just promise me no more surprise visits to New Orleans. At least give me some warning.” “Okay, that’s a deal. What time is your lie detector test?” “I don’t know. I have to call. I’ll do it this afternoon if I can.” “Let me know when. We’ll be there to support you.” Mom smiled. “No, no support. No we. I don’t need to be stressed about a lie detector test. I’ll be fine. It’s just a formality.” I heard my voice go to that squeaky place and I took a deep breath. “Fine. You’ll tell us how it went. Your father couldn’t let it go if we did show up. He’s very worried about you.” “Worried? Disapproving. He doesn’t want to be here.” “He does. He just doesn’t know how to be around you now. He’ll get there.” Mom smiled.
***** The lie detector experience was set for three p.m. Ivy tried to tag along but I refused. I didn’t need an audience. “You sure?” Matt asked. “What’s the alternative?” I followed him into a little room with a machine, a table, a chair and a quaint older man. “Deanna Oscar, this is Casey.” Matt waved at him. “Dr. Oscar.” He shook my hand. “Casey.” I sat in the chair. Casey went around, hooking me up to the machine. “Never had a psychic in the chair before. We’ll see how this works.” I didn’t get tense. There was no reason to be afraid. But I didn’t like the feeling of being on display. “Might have to be more specific with your questions.” “We’ll see.” He sat behind me and off to one side. “First a few baseline questions to calibrate.” I answered dull questions until I felt like I was at the Department of Motor Vehicles. He threw in a few oddballs. Was I ever married? No. Was I psychic? Yes. Would the world end tomorrow? No.
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“Did you kill Nemo Mandes?” “No.” “Did you have prior knowledge of the impending death of Nemo Mandes and fail to act?” “No.” I wished that I had known. I’d have acted. “Do you know who killed Nemo Mandes?” “Yes.” “Who killed Nemo Mandes?” “A female follower of Muriel Jennings.” Matt moved closer. “A name?” “I don’t have the name,” I answered. “Should I continue?” Casey asked Matt. “Keep going with the list of questions.” Matt stood against the wall. I hadn’t realized Matt put together a list. I’d thought a few key questions and I’d be done. Mom might be right. Teaching was easier on the nerves. “Did you go to Muriel Jennings’ home with the intent to harm anyone?” “No.” Where did that come from? “Do you believe Muriel Jennings intended to kill you with her snakes?” “No.” “Do you believe Muriel Jennings intended to harm you with snakes?” “Yes.” “Do you believe Muriel Jennings has knowledge of Nemo Mandes’ murder?” I paused. Honestly, I didn’t know. The part that said yes didn’t like Muriel because she was competition. And because she took advantage of people. But Muriel felt like a doer—if she wanted Nemo dead she’d want to do it. But if she found out who did it among her flock, she’d protect them. Approve of it. “Dr. Oscar, do you need me to repeat the question?” Casey asked. “I don’t know.” He repeated the question and I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know is my answer. I’m not sure what she knows.” “Okay. We’ll move on. Do you believe the followers of Muriel Jennings are currently violent?” “Not as a group.” “Do you believe the followers of Muriel Jennings are potentially violent?” “Yes.” “Do you fear for your life?” “No.”
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“Do you carry a loaded handgun on your person?” “Yes.” “Have you shared with the police all knowledge you possess regarding the murder of Nemo Mandes?” “Yes.” “Have you shared any police information with reporters or others not authorized?” “I showed the pictures of Nemo’s snakebite to the Snake Lady to get her expert opinion.” Not totally kosher, it’s true, but independent experts were used. “Any reporters?” he asked. “No.” “Do you fear prosecution for any crime?” “No.” “Have you committed any crime in the last six months?” “No.” Now it was just getting annoying. “Are we about done?” “One more,” Matt said. “Are you protecting anyone from prosecution of a crime?” “No.” “Thank you, Dr. Oscar. You were most cooperative.” Casey removed the connections. “Wait outside, De.” Matt pointed to the door. I waited on the other side of the door, knowing full well that I’d been honest. But I wanted to let Matt know I didn’t appreciate the full inquiry. The door opened and Casey left. Matt came up to me. “You’re clear.” “What’s with the litany of De’s-not-telling-us-the-truth questions?” “I had to be thorough. Can’t play favorites. If we don’t get a full-question read it’s no good. And you’ve got to throw in a few screwballs.” “Should’ve asked for the date Casey and you would die. And how that’s always fun.” I walked out the front door. I drove around in my convertible for half an hour trying to decide what to do. Going home wasn’t high on my list. Mom would’ve told Dad and the boys. Ivy and Greg would want to know details if they were home. Bottom line, I needed a change. I got out my cell phone and called Mary Lou. “Hi, De. How was Matt’s evil inquisition?” There were no secrets in my circles. “Fun. I’m still a free woman. Want to go to dinner?” “No guys? Sounds like fun.” “You’re sure you’re not riding the ex-priest tonight?” I teased. “Drama central. What’s wrong with me?”
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“The curse of the rich,” I laughed. “What?” “You solve your problems with more. Bad relationship, get another relationship.” “It helps. You don’t understand the world I live in.” “Explain it to me over dinner. I’ll meet you at Bud’s.” “Bud’s?” Mary Lou had more expensive taste than I. “I just took a lie detector test. I want a place where I know the owner. They can keep the press and Muriel out if necessary.” I rarely got frustrated. “Got it. Meet you there in an hour.”
***** The next day I went to the club to talk to Charlie. The police tape was gone from the front door. Crime scenes got released before crimes were solved—one of those odd police things I’d learned since coming to New Orleans. I walked inside the club and all evidence of the murder was gone. Charlie had had the place cleaned and the antiseptic smell made me sneeze hard in the entryway. “De?” Charlie emerged from the office. “Excuse me. The cleaning supplies are overwhelming. You need to air this place out.” “I need to leave. Too many memories. I was cleaning out the personal stuff from the files. Thank God my sister is a lawyer—she knows what all this stuff is.” He sagged into the chair. “When’s the funeral?” I asked. “They haven’t released his body yet. We’ll then go up to his family’s. I can’t come back. My sister got me out of my apartment lease but I need to sell this place. Nemo owned it—a lot of his net worth was in it. Ivy said you might be interested.” “Property is always a good investment. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to make it successful. I’m not a gay man or a drag queen. The trends and things—it’s not me.” I looked down at my blue jeans and light orange tie-dyed T-shirt that promoted Bud’s restaurant—his birthday present to me. No one would accuse me of the latest fashion or color trends. “You’d have Ivy and all your friends to help. The staff would stick by you. They want their jobs. Hard enough to keep businesses open now.” Charlie went out to the main room and I followed as he moved behind the bar and poured himself a scotch on the rocks. “There is still some rehab to do, right?” I looked around as a potential owner not just a patron. Charlie downed his drink and nodded. “The light fixtures just came in. And a few more pictures need to be hung. The glass on the bars needs to be cleaned. Mostly minor 84
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stuff. The contractors are done.” It was a good investment and prime real estate. Ivy would keep it hip and full. “Can I see the books?” “Sure.” Charlie and I headed back to the office and he let me sit behind the desk as he pulled up the data. The financial statements were solid. Not a lot of debts, good cash flow. My business knowledge was limited but positive income was good. I flipped through five years of statements. “Everything up to code and the flood insurance renewed?” “The new flood rates are a killer but they paid for all the repairs so it’s good insurance. Everything is up to code and repairs are top-quality. Nemo didn’t go cheap.” That was the truth, Nemo bought quality from glasses to his hot boy-toy bartenders who knew how to mix drinks. “How much?” Charlie pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “My sister and the real estate agent she hired worked up this. I know tons of stuff is for sale so anything fair. I want to know this place is in good hands.” The paper was an email between the sister and agent debating the post-Katrina value. The number was big but not as big as I thought. As Charlie took another swig of scotch, I thought about my options. The club would mean cash flow and real estate. It’d also mean more publicity, which I really didn’t want. The reopening would be a huge event and the dread made me sick. “Are you sure, Charlie? I don’t want to do this and then you change your mind in a month or two.” If Charlie was still in shock he might think better of it down the road. Charlie and his bottle knelt in front of me. “De, everything here reminds me of Nemo. And not good stuff. I see his body on the bar. His blood on the floor. I can’t live here. Not anymore.” I took the bottle of scotch. “You stop drinking and I’ll buy it.” He smiled knowingly. “I know. It’s just until I can get out of here and bury my Nemo. Remember him the way he deserves.” “What about finding the killer?” I asked. “You will. I know it might take a little time. Nemo’s not going to come back whether it takes you a week or more. Just find the bitch that did this.” Charlie buried his face in his hands. “I will. I promise. And if you’re sure you want to sell, have your agent draw up the papers and send them to my lawyer. I’ll write down his name and address for you.” Life was full of big decisions made in split seconds. Dad said that when he was teaching me to drive. He meant about life and death—more or less don’t play with the radio. But now it felt like one of those times. This decision felt right and the lawyer I’d inherited with Gran’s estate would go over every detail. “Really?” Charlie managed a weak smile. 85
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“Really. Ivy can come out from backstage now.” I’d sensed her when I walked in and kept quiet. “Damn!” Ivy appeared. “I thought I fooled you.” “Fool a psychic. I really need to catch this killer. Everyone thinks I’m losing my touch.” I took a sip of the scotch and the bitter liquid burned my throat. “No one thinks you’re slipping. I thought you’d be distracted with the business.” Ivy hugged me. Setting the bottle on the desk, I recapped it. “It’s not final yet. The lawyer has to look over it all.” “It’ll be fine.” Ivy hopped up and down. “I hope so.” Charlie hugged Ivy. “I’m buying a condo in Baton Rouge by my sister. I’ll regroup there.” “But you’ll visit.” Ivy couldn’t be down. “And we’ll help De with everything. Nothing to worry about. It’ll be ready to go in no time. Reopened and good as before the storm.” “I know you will. I’m going to call my sister. Go home and rest. Lock up for me?” Charlie asked Ivy. “Sure, sweetie, I’ve got a key.” Ivy patted Charlie’s shoulder. We walked Charlie out the back door with his box of stuff. Ivy locked the back door and hugged me tight. “Thanks, De.” “It’s a good investment.” I took a deep breath. “It’ll be fine.” Ivy waved off the tension. “You find the killer and everything else will fall into place.” “Right now cleaning this place with a toothbrush sounds easier. The killer isn’t Muriel but it’s someone close to her. Now everyone thinks I’m a fraud.” I walked out to the dance floor and paced. “No one thinks that. It’s that reporter putting a bad spin on things. That Muriel is a creepy cult leader and you said so yourself.” Ivy put the scotch back on the shelf. “I just can’t prove it. And I can’t pin down the killer and I can’t handle my family. Maybe I can’t handle this life like Gran did.” I stood under the mirrored disco ball and saw my many tiny reflections. “You’ve got to work the case. That’s all. Every case is new and different. Elinor used to say each case was like starting from scratch. That’s the challenge. As for your family. They’ll go home eventually.” “I know. I’m an adult though. I should be able to manage my parents and my job. They make me crazy and Muriel makes it worse.” “You’ll handle it. You always do.” Ivy turned off the lights. “Let’s go celebrate. Dinner without the fam.” “Okay. But if I buy this place, the first thing we do is install a state-of-the-art
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security system.” “Hell, yeah. We’re not all psychics.” Ivy locked the door behind us.
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Chapter Nine If enduring my family was hard, going over things with a lawyer was dull. Mr. Louie sat at my dining room table with a ton of papers scattered around. Gran had left me a thorough lawyer. “Everything checks out on inspections,” he said. “This is more boring than the lie detector test.” I had two PhDs—I could deal with paperwork but legalese left me with a migraine. “What?” The lawyer pushed the papers away. This would be a long day! “No-nothing.” “Nothing? You said lie detector test. You had a polygraph?” His Southern drawl went an octave lower. “Without a lawyer?” I rolled my eyes at the large, round, bald, sweaty man. “Yes. But I didn’t kill anyone so it’s not like I could fail.” “Not the point. You need a lawyer to protect your interests. Never talk to the police without a lawyer.” “I talk to the cops all the time. I’m trying to solve a crime here. This was all a ploy by Muriel to get back at me. It was a big formality. Nothing came of it.” “That’s not the way to handle this, Miss Deanna. You’re rich. You don’t have to handle things on your own. Money means you staff things down.” “I wanted to keep this low publicity. Bringing in a lawyer would only make it a bigger deal. Isn’t that better?” I spun the appraisal photos on the table. “Yes, but you should’ve called me. I can’t help you if you get in a jam but you don’t tell me.” He was sort of right but I was paying him by the hour. “Or I could hire a less patronizing lawyer.” “Fine. We’ll stick to the business at hand. Everything looks in order. Sign here and here and you own it.” He marked two spots on a page. “When do we close?” I signed and exhaled slowly. “I’ll take care of the formalities. As of now, you’re the owner. They’ve given over the keys.” He handed me a large envelope with several sets. “Okay.” I pocketed one set of keys. “I still think we could have gotten them down another five grand.” Mr. Louie put away his mass of papers. “Please, I’m not dragging this out for five thousand dollars. That’s petty with my portfolio. It’s done now.” 88
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“Congratulations. You own a drag club. If you’re looking for other investment properties, I can make several recommendations.” He closed his briefcase and stood. “No. Thanks. One thing at a time.” I walked him to the door. “Goodbye, Miss Deanna.” He walked out to his car. I closed the door and wandered to the kitchen where Ivy and Greg were talking. The conversation stopped when I entered. I’m not normally paranoid but with those two. “What’s up?” “You did it?” Ivy glowed with anticipation. “Yep, I own the Long and Big Easy. Weird, huh?” “Fabulous!” Ivy jumped up and down. “I’ll help. Don’t worry. You’re catching the killer so I’ll watch the employees. Clean up, put in a few fixtures. It’s not much according to Charlie.” “Thanks, Ivy.” I handed her a set of keys. “I just wish I could solve the crime as easily as buying a new piece of real estate.” “You need your focus back.” Ivy put the keys in her purse. “You go meditate, take a nap, take a trip over to see the spirits or whatever works for you.” “It’s only my second case, Ivy. I’m not sure I’ve got the process down yet.” “Well, I’m going to check out the place. Get that problem out of your hair.” Ivy headed out the door. Greg watched me from the kitchen table. “Are you really okay?” I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat across from him. “Yeah. I just want things to get back to normal. Parents in Chicago and cases I can solve.” “Ivy and I are looking for places. It won’t be much longer.” “It’s not you two. Though your affair with Mary Lou is keeping the Weathers at a distance. Is this really a good idea?” “I’m not a priest anymore.” “I know. That’s not it.” I sipped my coffee. “She’s still married.” “Are you jealous?” He grinned. I laughed and did my best not to choke on my coffee. “Please. I can own a drag club but sleeping with an ex-priest—that’s just over the line for me. And this isn’t about you dating someone. You’re dating a married someone.” “Shrinks aren’t supposed to judge,” he reminded. “No, that was your former profession. New Orleans society, however, does talk. The Weathers aren’t exactly average. What do you expect to happen? She’ll leave Lance for you?” “I don’t know.” “Are you happy just being the other guy?” I pressed. “No.”
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“Well, it’s your life. But I wouldn’t let my parents find out. Ivy’s harmless but you’re an ex-priest screwing a married woman. Mom will lecture you and Dad will show you all of his guns up close until you move out.” “It’s your house. He can’t kick me out.” Greg smiled at me. “No but I can. Get your act together and get out. You and Mary Lou can do what you want but don’t do it in my house. I’m not going to choose between two friends and have it all blow up under my roof.” “I wouldn’t do that to you.” He sat back. “I didn’t believe you’d ever do what you’re doing with a married woman so I’m not tracking so good on your character. Find a place and move out. I don’t need the added issues.” I went up the back stairs to hide in the library. I felt bad about Greg. I wanted to be a supportive friend but after talking with Mary Lou, I knew she’d never leave Lance. And Greg needed a kick in the pants. There was no way for it to end well. The Weathers were good friends of mine and I wasn’t going to take sides. Mary Lou and Greg were both nuts. “Am I wrong, Noah?” I asked. The silent response meant no in Noah-talk. “You’re sure?” Two snaps sounded. That was Noah-speak for yes. “Thanks. I just really need my house back.” I curled up in a warm velvet chair and let my mind wander. The murderer was still out there.
***** I spent the night in the house with quiet. I did my best to reach out to the mind of the killer. Nothing about the murderer showed up that would help me identify her. After breakfast I headed out to The Third Eye again. It was closed all day today. So I drove over to my new club. It needed a security system and a little more work. Still, I wanted to walk through the place and see what else it needed. I parked around back and fished for the keys while I walked around front. Then I noticed the lights were on inside. I reached behind me and pulled out my gun. The employees weren’t scheduled today and there was more than one form inside. Ivy was the only other one with a key. I didn’t sense danger but I’d been on the fritz lately. I turned the knob and was shocked at what I found. My brothers were polishing the glass bar. Greg and John were installing the light fixtures. My mom looked to be directing the action while Ivy and Mary Lou hung pictures. I shoved my gun back in its holster and closed the door behind me. “Hi, everyone.” “Oh, you ruined the surprise.” Ivy climbed off the ladder. “Why are you putting my family to work? I have employees for that.”
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“It wasn’t me.” Ivy wiped her hands on a bar towel. “They wanted to.” “Yeah, we wanted you to know we’re behind you.” Eddie sprayed more glass cleaner on the bar. “Yes, dear. You made a big commitment. It’s a very nice place.” Mom went behind the bar and turned all the liquor bottles to face forward. I wondered if she’d feel the same when she saw the club in action. “Thanks, everyone.” I was touched that they’d go to the trouble. My family was on vacation. And there were bigger worries. “I’d really rather you guys didn’t do this.” “Why?” Frank asked. I looked at John and he shrugged. Apparently he was the only one who understood. “Nemo was killed here. Whoever did this is still out there and my theory is they don’t want the club to reopen. That means, until we get the security system, no one should work here unarmed. And I’d really rather not have my family in danger.” “You really think it’s dangerous?” Mom asked. “Does Dad know you’re here?” I folded my arms. “No. He’s at the gun show.” Mom paced behind the bar. “I promise he wouldn’t like it. Mom, there was a puddle of blood right where you’re standing. I don’t want all of you here while this place is unsecured.” “I’m sorry, De. I should’ve thought of it.” Ivy tested a few lights. “I’ve got the security guys coming tomorrow. We’ll have a system installed as soon as possible.” “Okay, do we at least have a gun behind the bar?” I asked. Mom looked. “I don’t see one. You might need to bring one in.” “Yeah. Look, everyone. I really, really appreciate your help. But I don’t want any of you to be harmed. If you want to support me, please just come to the reopening.” “We’re not that easy to scare, De.” Greg put the tools back in the toolbox. “It’s not about being scared away. The club will reopen no matter what. But I want the basic security covered before staff comes in. Not just family—all the employees need to be safe too. So can we all just go get lunch?” Mary Lou clapped her hands. “Sounds perfect. A nice lunch and we’ll help out once the alarm is in. Where to?” “Why don’t we just go back to the house and order in? Meet you guys there.” I walked out to my car and watched them leave. Everyone was safe. I got in my car and drove home, relieved. “They wanted to help.” Gran faded in next to me. “I know. But it’s not safe. I feel the killer isn’t done with her goal. I don’t want them to get hurt.” “Of course you don’t. You’re right to be careful.” “Tell me more. I’m going to solve this case. I’m not about to screw it up. Right?” 91
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“There are no guarantees but the case came to you for a reason. I know Muriel is a huge complication but it’s all connected and you’ll sort it out.” “Any clues?” I asked. “Sorry.” She shook her head. “Any sign of Nemo coming up for air?” “I wish it were that simple. Have a nice lunch and come see me later if you want to talk.” Gran faded out. As I pulled into my spot, I watched all of the people I was close to file into the house—except for Dad. I knew, the gun show. But he’d been scarce. He knew I’d bought the club and not a peep. I walked in and Ivy was taking orders. “We’re doing Chinese. That spicy chicken you like?” Ivy asked. “Yes please.” At that moment I didn’t mind a houseful of people and all the noise. They supported me. With the press and Muriel—I needed people on my side. As long as they eventually went home and I had the peace and quiet to focus again. “Make sure you have them send chopsticks?” Eddie asked. The small talk of who could use chopsticks versus a fork took over. I had an eclectic group. I was lucky.
***** With a ton of leftovers in the fridge, I headed upstairs and changed into pajamas. Gran was right. I needed to talk to her. Curled up in my bed, I let my mind wander as I relaxed every muscle. I drifted off to sleep and flew around out of my body. I made my way to the Other Side and went through the visitors’ door. I didn’t even bother to check on Nemo. Instead I went directly to Gran’s cozy cottage. I walked in without knocking and found Gran reading by the fire. “Chinese food in New Orleans?” Gran didn’t even look up from her book. I sat in a huge cushy chair across from her. “I think the family has overdosed on the seafood and Cajun samplers.” “Makes sense.” She set the book aside. “You okay?” “More or less. Dad isn’t pitching in but I’m not surprised. I think he just wants me to come home or teach.” “You won’t change him. He’ll work through it.” “I know but I’m not used to working with all these people around. Did you ever want Grandpa and Dad to come back or was it easier without them?” “What-ifs aren’t worth the time, De. I was able to do more without them but I’d have found a balance with them. I don’t advise being alone forever. It’s hard.”
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“I’m learning romance is up to fate. Right now I want to find Nemo’s killer, put a stop to Muriel’s cult and get my family back to Chicago safely.” My priorities were clear but I didn’t have a plan. “Your family will return eventually. Don’t waste your energy pushing people away.” She read me too well. “I don’t mean to. But with them so close I’m afraid to really focus. What if the killer comes after me and they get hurt? What if I’m wrong again and humiliate them more? I can’t do this with them here. It’s too much.” “You’ll adapt.” “Dad hasn’t even asked about you. I don’t understand him.” “Maybe you need to talk to him.” I paced the small front room. “We tried that. I tried but he pushes my buttons and I get defensive. It’s like I have to convince him I’m allowed my way.” “Sounds like it’s your problem. You moved away without his approval. Your father needs to get used to it. You’re fine on your own, Deanna.” “I want him to respect what I do, what you did.” “That may take time. Can’t be forced.” “I know. I can’t change him but I can’t get him to talk. I mean, really talk. He knows this place because he lived here. And yet he goes from cooking to not wanting to be here. Why does Noah not like him?” “It’s not that Noah doesn’t like your father. Your father never wanted to play with Noah as a child.” “Poor Dad, he couldn’t see the ghosts so of course that was scary.” “True. It’s complicated but the point it, that’s all history. You and your father need to work this out. He loves you. He’ll do anything for you, De.” “I know. It’s just different now.” “Of course it is. Just like every case is different. You’re distracted.” “I need to work on Muriel. Someone in her group killed Nemo. But I’ll end up in more trouble if I push Muriel.” “I see. Your parents being around is making you hold back and second-guess yourself. Stop pulling your punches, De. Connect with the community.” Gran opened her book again. That was my cue to leave. I faded back to my bedroom and stretched my sore muscles. Now I knew what I had to do. Like it or not, I had to go back to Muriel’s compound. Snakes, crazy followers and all. I pulled out Gran’s book. She’d left me information in her own unique way. This Lotus Circle thing was intriguing. There were notes about our ancestors with dates and what their powers were. I also had the updated list of local members I’d printed off from the Lotus Circle email. Katrina had put a glitch in a lot of normal stuff.
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Some of the members could still be evacuated from New Orleans for all I knew. Some quite possibly would never return. People were still putting their lives back together. I pulled out the list and scanned it. I needed some input. The Third Eye was still the name on the list that called out to me. It had to be open one of these days when I could make it there. Tomorrow I’d make the time to get inside.
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Chapter Ten The huge eye over the door made me stop and stare. The display window had everything from crystals to tarot to jewelry to statues. All I wanted was to not feel like the only legit psychic in New Orleans. I walked inside and a hairless cat blinked at me from the glass counter of the jewelry display case. She rolled over and stretched. I sensed someone was in the back room but no one was behind the counter so I browsed. Necklaces with all sorts of charms and crystals caught the light. There was an entire wall of candles. The opposite wall held crystals, decks of Tarot and Ouija boards galore. A table in the corner had a multicolored cloth draped over it and two chairs on either side. On the table was a deck of Tarot cards. My mother’s voice rang in my head from a junior high party. “All of this is crap. Don’t touch any of that!” Since I had enough problems with the powers I had, I’d never bothered to touch any of the other stuff. I wasn’t drawn to it. As I reached for the desk, a door closed. “Please don’t touch those.” I turned to face a tall, painfully thin woman with inky black hair to her mid-back. Her dark blue eyes studied me as she claimed her deck of Tarot. “Sorry. I’ve never looked at Tarot before.” I backed away. “Never? The energy coming off you is strong. How can you never have seen Tarot?” She grabbed the sample deck off the shelf and handed it to me. “If you knew my parents, you’d understand. I really don’t use any props.” I flipped through the deck at a loss for the meaning. I might as well have been shuffling for a poker game. “It’s not a prop. It’s a tool. It takes years to be able to interpret the cards correctly. Your skills must be elsewhere.” She sat at the table and shuffled her deck. “Just your average psychic medium.” “Clairvoyant, clairaudient?” “See and hear stuff. Check. I can feel it too—whatever you call that. And I’ve got ghosts galore including one at home who is shy. Doesn’t like to talk or be seen.” She put the deck down. “Who are you?” “Deanna Oscar. My grandmother left me some information about The Lotus Circle. I was emailing with the Circle before the flood and I got a list of local members. I’m more of an in-person learner.” “Oscar. Your family has a lot of history in this area.”
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“So I’m told.” “And in the Circle.” “I haven’t done a lot of research in that area. Sorry, I’m not psychic with names really well so do you mind?” “I’m Penny. Penny Triben. I didn’t know your grandmother well but Elinor was well-respected.” “Nice to meet you. I’m not doing so hot.” I sat across from her. “I’ve seen the news. That Muriel, she’s not a true psychic.” I liked Penny more and more. “No, she’s not. How did you know?” “I read energy well. Over the phone or even off the television. She does have some power though. What is she?” “Telekinetic. She moves stuff with her mind but no ghosts around her. I never sense her trying to read things like I do. She never even sees the ghosts around me either.” “She’s the kind we guard against.” Penny shuffled her deck more. “Muriel has a power. She’s not a member of the Circle?” “No. Ethics is part of the Circle as well. Her little following is unusual but the lies would keep her out. I don’t even think she knows we exist. Besides we’d try to test her to confirm her claims.” She set the deck down. “Let’s begin.” “Wait. Begin?” I sat up straight. “I hope it’s a game of blackjack because I didn’t come for a reading.” “You don’t want a free reading?” Penny frowned. “No. Look, I’ve got a houseful of family that is crossing my wires. All my stuff is on the fritz while I’m after a killer.” “Emotions can do that. Especially when people you love are involved. Have you tried meditating before you attempt psychic connections? It can help you clear your mind and center yourself.” Penny went to the wall of candles and brought one back. “I’m trying to get a killer and expose a cult leader here. Patience isn’t really my strength under normal circumstances.” Meditation. Some quiet introspection. Psychologists were big fans of meditation and yoga. Calm patients were easier to treat. People worried too much. But this wasn’t about my taxes—it was about people’s lives. I got a case of guilt when I tried for peace and quiet. “Short of getting rid of your family, I suggest this. Focus, internal calm and a quiet mind. You can’t help others without you being centered.” I examined the candle. Just your ordinary rain-scented peaceful blue. “They’ll go home in a week or so.” “Until then, try this. And I’m more than willing to help you with a reading.” She pointed to her cards. “No offense but I get previews of enough stuff. I like that my life has some surprises.” Where was the fun in knowing every detail?
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“You see nothing of your own future?” “I get some. I don’t look. Once when I was ten, I saw our old neighbor across the street would die before he died. It made me wonder. I saw it all. My parents’ death. My brothers. After seeing all their deaths, I couldn’t sleep for a week. Others are one thing, but knowing about myself is a bit creepy.” “Don’t you want to see how Tarot works? Not about you but others? Test your psychic skills of the future to my Tarot reading?” Penny wanted me to believe and to test me. “You want to test me, that’s fine. But we’ll do it right. Independent administration—separate rooms. Controlled conditions. Both of us. Been there, done that but I’ll go again.” “Sounds good. I have a friend at Tulane. She’ll set it up.” “Goody. Lie detector and psychic ratings. Next it’ll be my sanity.” I rolled my shoulders. “Sorry. Rough week. I need to get back in that cult compound of Muriel’s but I really don’t want to get snake-jacked again.” “I understand. Are you capable of astral travel?” “I go to the Other Side when I want. Usually during sleep. I tried once while I was awake but freaked my mom out.” “I see. You always go to the Other Side? You don’t try sneaking up on people and spying?” Penny smiled and her thin lips spread. “Do you astral travel?” I asked. “Not yet. I’m working on it though. It requires a lot of mental discipline. You should try to control where you’re going. Around your home at first. Your focus is key. Then expand your travel. It’s called remote viewing.” “I like that idea of spying on Muriel. But how do I slow it down to control it? I seem to get to the Other Side in a blink.” I liked the Other Side. It was peaceful and happy. “Meditation will help. The cornerstone of a strong mind is the ability to silence it. Your gifts are impressive but your control needs work.” I bottled my offense. All my life I’d shocked and scared people. Those who weren’t scared thought I was amazing. This woman thought I needed discipline. Ouch and yet what a difference. “Maybe once I’m done with this case we can do a meditation class or something. I’ll work on that astral projection. Or remote viewing.” “The Lotus Circle is all about constant learning and sharing. Expanding our powers. Teaching others.” “That sounds nice but I really don’t want to add to my powers necessarily. Meditation could help me control what I’ve got so I’m all for that. But I’ve got enough to deal with.” She shook her head. “There are people who would pay millions for your gifts.” “Oh yeah, visions of little girls with broken necks in garbage bags on my last case. This one is a slasher with a snake for a weapon. Cute as kittens.”
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“You help people. It’s a responsibility.” “I know. I make the best of it but I don’t have to master every power to be useful. I wouldn’t wish the scary stuff on anyone.” Definitely time for a subject change. I felt like a grinch. “So is there a form for the membership or something?” “We’ll do the test first and then get to all that. Don’t worry. You’re not the only reluctant psychic we have. Do you need any other supplies?” She gestured to the room. “No thanks. Just the candle.” I opened my purse. “No charge. Consider it a welcome gift.” “Thanks.” I reached for the goofy little business cards Mary Lou had printed up for me with my name, psychic detective title and my cell number. “Call me about the test.” “I will. Good luck with the meditation. Let me know if you need any help.” She walked over to her cat and massaged its head. “Thanks again.” I grabbed my candle and left The Third Eye. For the first time, I felt like there was a world out there to give me guidance. Not just Gran or the occasional email. And not fakes like I’d met in college. Maybe with them I could back off some of the defensive wall I kept up. Even open people like Ivy and Greg didn’t understand what it was like to have the gift. Penny and her friends would be good for me. As I headed home, I decided to make a couple of detours. I cruised by Muriel’s compound and saw the hundreds of followers kneeling with candles. Muriel was among them—leading the prayers. Her troops were growing in number. Fakes were the worst part of what I did. They made people not trust the real thing and they profited from fear. I couldn’t blame the doubters. Better safe than sorry. But I had leftover guilt from those who didn’t believe me when I had real visions. One of my college boyfriends didn’t believe my powers. It led to our breakup, no big loss. Until I saw him die in a vision. Not being a cruel person, I warned him. I told him not to go to that frat party. Not to get in that car drunk. He told me I was trying to ruin his fun because I was bitter and jealous. The ego of men really amazed me. Maybe I should’ve tried harder—I could’ve been more forceful. But in the end, he went and I was right. Frat boy in a BMW against a tree. The tree won. He died instantly in that car crash. That’s what made me believe I had a purpose. Muriel could get dozens of people killed by snakebite. That wasn’t even counting those she’d kill deliberately, like Nemo. Her followers were dangerous. I had to do something. I rolled away slowly in my convertible. There was another stop I had to make. Luckily it would be more welcoming. The Long and Big Easy was now mine. And Ivy threw open the door when I pulled up and parked out front. 98
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“Welcome, new owner! The security team has come and gone. Behold your new alarm.” She strutted to the panel on the wall behind the bar and produced a pamphlet. “The instructions are here. I set a preliminary code and it checks out. Tested fine.” “Great.” I looked around at a roomful of eager faces—some in drag. All of the staff had turned out because Ivy said it was the first day anyone was allowed in since the security system was in. Thankfully she’d kept the family away. It felt like I should say something. “I’m sorry we lost Nemo. But you won’t lose your jobs or the club. It might be hard at first but Nemo wasn’t one to give up. So just do what you do best.” They applauded. I took the security pamphlet into the office. Ivy was right behind me and she closed the door. “You were great.” Ivy hopped in her heels. “Are you sure? I don’t know all the little codes of being a drag queen.” I flopped in my big leather chair. “You don’t need to. You’re not a queen. Leave it to me. All you have to do is follow the basic drag queen philosophy.” “If the philosophy is sleeping with men, I can do that.” I wasn’t sure when I’d find the time but I was with them in spirit. “That’s a given. No, doll, drag is about being true to yourself. Don’t try to fake it or be weird. The beauty of drag is being on the outside how you feel on the inside. There’s no shame unless you’re lying to yourself.” “You already bought my gown for the grand reopening—didn’t you?” Ivy was deep but only so deep. “Actually no. Tony the bartender made it. It’s divine.” Ivy pulled it out of the closet and hung it on the coat hook. The deep purple gown had a slit up one side and a low neckline. The fabric glimmered in the light. “It’s gorgeous,” I said. “Isn’t it? He double stitched it with heavy thread. Real boobs are denser than the falsies. Or so I’ve heard. I have no actual experience. Don’t want you falling out.” Ivy shrugged. “What do I owe him?” “Nothing. Darlin’, they wanted to give you a welcome present. They pooled the cash for the material and Tony—genius that he is—whipped it up.” Ivy fussed over the fabric. “Thanks.” I took a deep breath and cleared my mind. I was safe and welcome here. “Getting all serious, De. I know there’s a killer out there but there’s a party to be planned in here.” Ivy sat across from me. “I can’t, Ivy, you plan the party. I just can’t think about that too. I need to focus.” It sounded good. I had to try.
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“Focus. You’re mad at your family again?” “No. I went to The Third Eye today. Gran said The Lotus Circle is worth connecting to so I went. I’m supposed to meditate, quiet the brain and relax. Help my focus.” “You?” Ivy laughed. “Sorry but you’re a hyper-brain. It works for you.” “I know. But not since the family descended.” Ivy leaned back and crossed her legs. “That’s true. You’ve seemed off since then but they’ll go back and it’ll be normal again, De.” “Not if I let Nemo’s killer escape while my family has me huddled in the fetal position. I need to work through the anxiety. I could do this without them around.” “That bad? Well, you’re hiding it well. Do whatever you need to do. We’re all behind you. And don’t worry about the party—I’ll handle it all.” “Thanks.” I rested my head back on the chair. “Did Gran mention the Circle?” Ivy sat up. “Hmm. Not sure. She made a few friends at shops like that. Had her computer friends too. No horny old men though, just chatting friends. She never mentioned that group by name. I’ll ask around though. See what I can find out.” “You’re the best.” “Naturally. No problem, you go rest. You look like you need a nap.” I glanced at my watch. “It’s barely lunchtime. Buy lunch for the guys, okay?” “Must’ve been a rough morning. Now go. These guys need to get back to work. Not flutter around you for an hour kissing ass.” Ivy waved at me to vacate. “Like they’d kiss girl ass.” I rolled my eyes. “For paychecks, they would. Not your front but your ass—yes. Now go and be nice.” Ivy opened the door. I thanked everyone for the gown and gave Tony a hug. Minutes later I was out the door and on my way home to focus and sleep or meditate and calm down. I wasn’t sure yet how but I’d try. I sneaked in the house and up to my room without detection. Gran appeared as I set the candle on my nightstand. “It’s nice that you have an in-person connection. A lot of the women are only able to connect via the computer.” “Did you know Penny?” I kicked off my shoes and flopped on the bed. “Not well. The Lotus Circle only became alive again recently. I’d heard of it in the family of course but you had to be careful. New Orleans isn’t bad but some women were harshly persecuted for their powers.” I studied her. “You think I need to meditate and focus, don’t you?” She smiled back at me. “You need to improve your patience. Those skills will help you. The terms change but the techniques and benefits are centuries old.” I definitely needed patience with my family. But the practical side of me wanted progress on the case. “If I could focus well enough to remote view into Muriel’s house 100
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and get what I need without another snake encounter—that’d be great.” “An excellent idea but you need to practice first. Around the house.” Gran didn’t want me to go too far too fast. “Sure, let’s try it now.” I sat up and found a lighter in my drawer. With the candle lit, I stared at the flame, blanking my mind to free myself from my body and to direct where my consciousness went. “Slowly,” Gran whispered. I went limp. Slowed my breathing. Slowly. The word followed me as I felt my energy lift and tingle. The weight of a body was something I never noticed until I was out of it. Not in a hurry, I looked down at my body and then moved to the French doors in my bedroom. They opened to the balcony. I went through the doors. The matter sent a chill through my being as I passed through but I was out in the fresh air. “In the house,” Gran called after me. “Why? I like it out here,” my thoughts projected. It was freeing yet odd. “It’s safer. You’re still learning.” I slipped back into the bedroom and out into the hallway. There was one place I really wanted to visit this way for fun. I went through the thick library door and zipped to the ceiling and floated along the highest shelves of books. “Noah.” I projected my thoughts for the shyest ghost. I heard a snap but still couldn’t see him. Even in this state he was invisible to me. “Where are you? Why can’t I see you?” I asked. He made no reply. I projected my questions again and got nothing. Finally I headed for the kitchen and spied on Missy, which was boring. Actually I was getting tired. “What’s wrong?” I asked. Gran appeared beside me. “You’re not used to it. That’s why I didn’t want you to go too far. You need to build up your endurance. This is new and your energy will rebound.” “This never happens on the Other Side. I’m fine there. I want to go there,” I said. “No. Go back to your body and rest. You’ll get the hang of this. The Other Side will only confuse your focus.” Gran took my hand. From formless, I’d given in and saw my form again. Then I was in my room and saw my body. I slammed into myself with all the aches and exhaustion. I curled up with a pillow and slept off my first odd remoteviewing adventure. This probably only qualified as controlled astral projection but it was a start.
***** I slept the sleep of the dead. Not the literal dead, but the dreamless and travel-free sleep that recharged me. The type I rarely got to enjoy.
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Suddenly I was shaking. Correction, I was being shaken. I pushed back as my eyes finally opened. Ivy stood over one me in a clingy sundress with matching pink eyeliner. “Do you know your own strength?” I looked up slowly. “Sorry but dios, De. You wouldn’t wake up. What’s wrong with you?” “Nothing. Tired. Sorry. What’s the crisis?” “A snake.” Ivy’s hands fluttered with nervous energy. I grabbed my gun from my nightstand. “Where?” “Not here. Don’t do that. It’s at Charlie’s. Someone sent it to him. He’s freaking out. Let’s go.” Ivy tossed my purse at me. Despite the protest of my body, I got up, still in my clothes from yesterday, and put on my shoes. With gun and purse, I was ready. In ten minutes, I pulled in front of Charlie’s apartment building. “Did he call the police?” I saw no squad cars and heard no sirens. Ivy’s heels snapped up the stairs. “I told him to but he’s hysterical. Who knows.” She threw open the door and stood back. Surrounding myself with the protective white light, I drew my gun and scouted for snakes. “Charlie?” “It’s in the box. In the box.” Charlie stood on the couch and pointed to the brown box on the coffee table. Another box was set on top of it. “Kill it!” “Not me.” I walked in with Ivy following close. “It’s in the box. Good. Did you call the cops?” Ivy went up on the couch with Charlie. “I tried but I ended up talking with Tony.” Charlie held Ivy’s hand. Great. I got snake duty. I put my gun away and looked around. There were a lot of boxes. “How was it delivered?” “It wasn’t. Just left in front of my door. My neighbors know I’m packing up to leave. I thought it was helpful. I need boxes. Then I saw the tape and it had weight to it. I thought it was a going-away present. So I took it in and pulled off the tape. I heard hissing, saw slithering and put the other box on top of it. Can you imagine if it’d escaped?” Charlie asked in one long breath. I moved the two boxes—not giving the snake a chance to get free. There was movement and a hissing sound. No rattling. “Not a rattlesnake.” “Cobra! Hooded scary cobra!” Charlie cupped his hands by his ears to illustrate the cobra’s hood. “Bad. Very bad.” “Calm down. I’m not going to let it out.” I had a fear of snakes but panic never did any good. It was in a box and I wasn’t going to let it out. Tony entered the open apartment door and went directly to Charlie. “Are you okay?”
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Taking Tony’s hand, Charlie stepped down and hugged him. “They’re after me now.” No argument there but I wondered when Tony and Charlie had gotten so close. Gay men—especially in the drag scene—were close. But I got a vibe that Tony was too close to Charlie. I glanced over at Ivy who looked back with a little headshake that told me she saw what I did and didn’t like it either. She made it down off the couch in her heels without falling. “Call the cops?” she asked. “Please. And tell them to bring animal control or a snake charmer.” I sat in a chair opposite the couch with the coffee table and snake between us. Ivy slipped into the kitchen to call the cops. “I’m leaving. Why are they trying to threaten me? Kill me?” Charlie sat on the couch and rested his head on Tony’s shoulder. “We haven’t formally announced that I bought the place. Maybe the killer is out of the loop? Muriel’s crowd isn’t exactly in with the drag-crowd elite.” I heard sirens in the distance. Ivy returned with bottles of water for everyone. “That’s true. Maybe you should announce it. An interview or something. A new commercial!” “No, no commercial. It’s a drag club, Ivy. I’m not a drag queen. A nice press release.” I should’ve done it already but had Muriel and Nemo on the brain. “Then they’ll just turn to someone else. They won’t go after Deanna.” Tony rubbed Charlie’s arm soothingly. “What do you mean?” Ivy’s neck moved with telltale attitude. “If they’re after queens, they won’t target Deanna.” Tony shrugged. “But if they don’t want the club to reopen, of course they’ll target the owner.” Ivy pointed in the air with her neon pink nails. “That wouldn’t be smart. I’d see it coming.” True, I didn’t see my future in great detail, but I was aware enough to know if danger was close. Or if there was someone out to get me. And I didn’t take unmarked packages in my house. Maybe I was better with energy than I thought. I needed to go talk to Penny some more. “Right. They know you’re psychic.” Ivy sank into the chair next to me. “Shit. I’m next.” “Don’t say that. I wouldn’t let anyone harm you. You’re staying in my house—I’ll get there first.” I patted her on the shoulder. “You were sleeping pretty hard just now.” Ivy wasn’t convinced. I opened my water and drank. “I tried something new. It took a lot out of me. Not all of this is a walk in the park.” “I know. I’m just scared.” Ivy used her nails to slice at the label on the water bottle. “I don’t blame you.” I studied my own nails. My gels needed another touchup.
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The four of us sat around the coffee table with a box of snake. Two police officers and one guy with a long pole and a bag appeared in the doorway. We all looked up but didn’t move. The mood had sunk. I pointed to the bottom box. “Snake.” “Cobra,” Charlie added. “Step away please,” said the man with the bag and pole. We all moved and Charlie gave his story to the cops. Once the snake was safely removed, the box was examined for evidence. “No note,” one of the cops observed. “No address, no label, no nothing. We’ll run it for prints.” The other cop put it in an evidence bag with gloved hands. “It’s related to the Nemo Mandes murder,” I said. “You okay?” a familiar voice asked from the doorway. I turned and saw John. The judge had a way of turning up when I was around cops. I suspected every law enforcement officer was under strict instructions to let him know if I was involved in anything. “Fine, you?” I smiled. “Another snake?” John’s eyes darted to the scene. “Cobra this time. No bites though.” I walked over to him. “Someone tried to get at Charlie.” “Was anyone in the hallway?” one of the cops asked Charlie. “Anyone around?” Charlie shook his head. “No. it was quiet. At least I think it was. I was on my phone with my sister. A little distracted.” “You think they were trying to attack Charlie like Nemo?” I asked. The officer made notes. “Possibly. But then why not rush him, get him with the snake and then kill him like they did to Nemo? Probably just trying to scare you but if you remember anyone strange around, let us know.” “I’m scared all right.” Charlie held on to Tony. “We’ll get who did it, Charlie.” I had to be reassuring even as I felt like I was floundering. “Hurry.” Charlie didn’t look at me. “We’ll get out of your way.” Ivy steered me to the door. “Come on, ladies. I’ll buy you lunch.” John was a Southern gentleman—food cured all. “No, not me. I’ve got to go by the club and check on things. With Charlie attacked, I want to know it’s safe.” Ivy took the club personally. “That’s what the security system is for. Don’t worry so much.” I turned to John. “Thanks anyway. I’m exhausted.”
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“You need to eat too. Look, I’ll go by the club for my peace of mind and you go to lunch with John. I’ve always wanted to drive the Caddy anyway.” Ivy held out her hand for the keys. I looked from John to Ivy and back. I’d never win a fight with both of them and my energy level so low. I handed over the keys. “Okay, but be careful.” “Always.” Ivy darted off. I was less speedy but climbed into John’s large SUV. “What are you in the mood for?” He started the engine. “Anything but seafood, Creole or Cajun anything.” “The family doing the tourist overload?” “Yep. Can you get a good burger in this town? Not fast-food burgers and not a gator burger. An all-beef actual burger?” “I know just the place.” He drove and I rested my eyes.
***** This time the shaking was gentle. My brain registered faster. John. Lunch. “Sorry,” I said. “It’s okay. I got it to go. Double cheese with ketchup and mustard and pickles, right?” He remembered how I took my burgers? I needed more time with hot judge guy. “Thanks.” “And I have fries. Regular and seasoned curly.” He held out two bags. “Curly please.” I took the bag. “And I got sodas and an extra-large chocolate milkshake.” “Thanks.” I unwrapped the burger. “My favorite is strawberry shakes but chocolate is always good.” “Noted for the future.” John began with the regular fries. “What did you do?” “Nothing.” I chewed a long curly fry. “You’re wiped. What happened?” I popped open a diet soda and sipped. “Oh that. Trying to extend my reach of astral travel.” “Astral who?” He put a straw in the shake. “Travel. I go visit Gran and stuff on the Other Side. But I’m trying to control it so I can move around on this side of things. It’s called remote viewing. Spy on Muriel.” I put the can in a cup holder and bit into the burger. A real burger! I groaned as the tastes floated back. “One of these days we’re flying to Chicago and I’m showing you real pizza.” “We have pizza.” He sipped the shake.
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“Not real pizza. Deep-dish pizza is totally different than the thin stuff you have around here.” “So you don’t have a lock on the killer yet?” he asked. The subject change was a mood buster. I stuffed my face with spicy fries and contemplated the answer. “Not exactly yet.” “It’s okay. No one is perfect.” He offered me the shake. I took it and sipped. Chocolate was a magic elixir. But it wouldn’t solve the case. I handed back the shake. “I need to get past my limits.” “You’re amazing. Don’t push yourself.” I had to. “I can do better. Have you ever heard of The Lotus Circle?” “No, new gang in town?” I laughed so hard I almost choked on a fry. “No. No. There is a group of women like me. With powers and stuff. Supposedly it’s centuries old.” “An Oscar family thing?” “Apparently ancestors have been members. It’s been underground for a while. Those evil males oppressing us.” I winked at him. John was completely non-oppressive. “Yeah, well, male or female—someone with your powers is a threat to those in power. A village elder, a king or a Muriel.” “You believe that she’s a fake?” I was sure everyone thought I was crazy. Threatened by her, so I was calling her a fraud. “After what I saw in the first case, I trust your instincts. Besides I’ve seen enough cults and eccentric groups to know the difference. She’s dangerous—whether she got your skills or not.” “Thankfully she doesn’t. That’s all I need, an evil psychic. Don’t even say it. I’ll get Muriel. And the killer.” I finished off my burger. “Home?” he asked. “Sorry to be such a drag. Thanks for the food and the confidence.” I ate the last of my fries. “Anytime.” He headed the SUV for my place. I didn’t fall asleep this time but the drive was quiet. When he parked in front of the house I grabbed my purse. “Thanks.” “No problem. This Lotus Circle is all women?” he asked. “I think so. Why?” I opened the car door. “Just make sure you still have time for men in your life.” He handed me the chocolate shake still half full. I smiled and grabbed the shake. “With that much estrogen plus the feminine vibe of my new drag club, I’ll be knocking down your door.” “Promises, promises. Happy astral traveling.”
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I closed the door. He’d given me a fun idea on how to practice.
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Chapter Eleven Later that evening, I tried the remote viewing again. Out of my body and straight outside. I went next door to the Weathers’. Maybe if the topic were interesting, I wouldn’t get tired as fast. First I dropped in on John. He had an apartment somewhere in New Orleans but all Weathers had a room in the mansion and he’d elected to stay over. His clothes were strewn on the bed and water running was a clear sign. And too tempting. I made my way into the bathroom and into the shower. For all of our flirting, I hadn’t slept with John. Not even second base to tell the truth. So getting a preview was stimulating fun! The Southern boy was tan. But not farmer tan—Southern tan. The dark chest hair clung to him and I wanted to be in my body all of a sudden. But I stayed, looking lower to the package that was decent size—but you never could really tell until it was hard. I zipped around his backside, in jeans his butt was delicious but out of them it was even better! The muscles of his back rippled nicely down to his firm rear flesh. What was stopping me? Besides nonstop cases or citywide tragedy? Nothing. But a boyfriend felt routine. And so far I hadn’t been able to establish a routine to save my sanity. Looking but not touching John was making my energy itch so I moved on. Greg hadn’t been in my house and he didn’t have class tonight. He wasn’t on parent duty either. Dad had taken charge of today with his favorite sites. That left only one place Greg would be. Okay, he could be out with friends but psychic powers were a plus. He was with Mary Lou. Not that it would’ve been a hard guess. I found that room—the guestroom where they’d been caught. It’s counterintuitive to return to the scene of the crime but some criminals got a high off it. Especially getting away with it. This time I was lucky. They were just making out. Hot and heavy like teenagers—I had to wonder if it was because they were getting away with it or if there were real feelings there. I sensed Greg had feelings and Mary Lou didn’t. At least not as strong. I hated being stuck in the middle. Not literally—yuck! But both were friends of mine. That’s when I speculated on how I could influence the world around me in this form. I saw the closet door slightly ajar and threw my energy at it. The door slammed. Greg and Mary Lou jumped up. “It had to be the wind,” Mary Lou said. I drifted outside, giggling. But as I crossed the street my energy dipped. I’d never make it to the French Quarter and no way would I make it to Muriel’s.
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Defeated but not dumb, I turned around and went home to bed for the night.
***** The next morning, I walked into The Third Eye, tired and frustrated. There were a lot of people in a back room but out front only Penny and a short round woman talking. “Speak of the psychic.” Penny waved me over. “Deanna Oscar, this is Dr. Helen Martinez of Tulane. She’ll be conducting our test.” “Nice to meet you.” The test was no big deal. I’d done three and blown all the Chicago docs away. “And you. Greg Delacroix recommended you for a position. You haven’t come in for an interview.” “I’m sort of doing the psychic job thing.” How would I squeeze in teaching? “You’re a psychologist?” Penny picked up. “Para?” “Clinical and forensic.” I corrected her. “PhDs?” Dr. Martinez asked. “Two,” I replied. “Impressive. And you’ve always been a medium?” “Yep. Ghosts, spirits and the living. Triple the people and all the fun. The psychic stuff is less fun. The dead I can handle.” This wasn’t why I was here but I didn’t want to be rude. “She is different.” Dr. Martinez nodded to Penny. “I’m not trying to criticize the Circle. But I’m in the middle of a rough case and the visions aren’t working for me right.” “Meditation takes time. You’ve only just started.” Penny had a very calm energy around her. I was probably pulsing. “I managed to astral travel around the house and stuff but I got exhausted. I barely got through the house and tried to go outside. I hit a big wall with this remote-viewing thing.” “You went from direct projection to the Other Side to traveling around your house in one day?” Penny asked. “Yes. But I need to get into a place across town. Last night I made it to my neighbors’ inside and out but couldn’t go across the street. I had to come home and rest.” I had to have done something wrong. “Very impressive.” Dr. Martinez smiled. “Not with a killer out there. Another person got a snake left for them. It’s not over. Any advice?” “These skills take effort, concentration and patience.” “Patience I don’t have. What am I doing wrong?”
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“Over large distances—you should project.” Dr. Martinez stepped in. “Project?” I needed more clues. “I’m going out of my body.” “Instead of going there by way of streets. Simply imagine yourself there. Go from your home direct to the desired destination. It takes a lot of focus but it won’t sap your energy as fast with navigation.” “Focus I’ve got. I think I can do that. And when I’m done, I project back?” “Exactly.” “It’s like Star Trek without the transporter.” I liked that idea. “You should be careful.” Penny adjusted her display of crystal necklaces. “I will. I can do this. I’ll even take a ghost along to keep me out of trouble. Thanks for the tip.” “I’ll see you at Tulane for the test?” Dr. Martinez asked. “Let me know where and when.” I nodded. “I’m thinking of having monthly meetings here for The Lotus Circle members. Would you come?” Penny asked. “As long as I’m not in the middle of tracking a killer or some other life or death case, then sure.” I wanted to experience it. Penny didn’t get the visions—I wanted to know people who got the message you couldn’t ignore. The problem you had to go and find to fix. They’d understand. “I’ll let you know.” Penny made a note in a purple journal. “Thanks. So what’s going on in the back?” “A yoga class. You might enjoy it. Quiet the mind and focus on the body.” Penny handed me a flyer. At that moment, my cell phone thankfully rang. “Excuse me.” I stepped toward the candle wall. “Hello?” “De, they did it again. This one was loose in the storeroom. Tony was bit.” Ivy was frantic. “At the club? I’ll be right there.” “No. We’re on our way to the hospital. Meet us there.” Ivy disconnected. I ended the call. “Sorry, I have to go. Nice meeting you, Dr. Martinez. Talk to you later, Penny.” I raced to the hospital and parked in the ER parking lot. I walked into the ER and saw Ivy and Charlie in the waiting room. “They’re evaluating him now. I called Greg too.” Ivy had her rosary out and ground it like worry beads. “Someone evil is out there, De. You have to stop them.” Charlie began breathing hard.
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“You okay?” I saw him going downhill and grabbed a passing nurse. “My friend is having trouble breathing.” Five minutes later, Charlie had his own bed in the ER next to Tony’s. Charlie was hooked up to monitors and machines but his breathing was better with the help of a paper bag. I walked over to Tony, who had a marker line around his left thumb knuckle. “What’s that?” I asked the nurse. “It indicates the degree of swelling when he arrived. We watch and see the progression. Mark it with time.” Her whole job at the moment seemed to be watching Tony. Greg appeared around the curtain. “Everyone okay?” “Charlie’s hyperventilating there and Tony got bit.” Who else would be hurt while I was off trying to find my patience? Greg looked around. “Charlie looks okay. What sort of snake?” “Rattle,” Tony said from behind his oxygen mask. “The police are having it caught and brought in. It was cornered in a stockroom,” the nurse filled in. “Will he need antivenin?” I asked. “Possibly.” The nurse nodded. Tony breathed harder in his mask. “Over fifty percent of bites are dry. Odds are he won’t need a thing.” Greg gave Tony a thumbs-up. “It’s swollen but not too much.” I looked at the mark. “See anyone, Tony?” He shook his head. “The police already did this.” The nurse got off her stool. “I’m asking. I own the building. Think, Tony, the security system was on or off?” “Off,” he mouthed under the mask. “Loading.” “What?” Greg asked. “Loading. You were unloading the liquor delivery?” I wanted to be sure. Tony nodded. Greg folded his arms. “Could’ve been in a box of liquor. Or on the truck that delivered it. In the stockroom for days. No way to know.” “After what happened to Charlie at his apartment? How can you say that? I’m being mocked and my friends and employees targeted. Someone is out to make a statement. Anti-gay or anti-me, I don’t care. It’s going to stop.” I turned and almost plowed into a timid-looking nurses’ aide. “You’re Deanna Oscar?” she asked. “Yes.”
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“Someone at the desk is looking for you.” She hurried off. “Probably Matt or John. I’ll be back.” I took a few calming breaths and made my way through the maze. I was way wrong on who was looking for me. It was none other than the evil Lara. The reporter who’d made my life not fun. “Following me or chasing ambulances?” I asked. “Neither. I heard about Charlie and then Tony. The Long and Big Easy is still a target. Still haven’t solved Nemo’s murder? I’m following up.” Her slick style was an irritant. She sounded as though I was expecting her. “Has Muriel solved it?” I had to get my jabs in. Lara walked toward the door and I followed so as not to disturb the desk clerks. “She sticks to her claim that it’s a lover’s spat. Some sort of triangle that won’t come clear. I’m just covering a story. The first owner killed. The new owner and Nemo’s lover threatened. And an employee bit now. A real shame.” “You mean ratings are great, right?” I thought of Muriel’s prediction and Tony. She couldn’t be right. I just couldn’t believe it. But I had one ace in the hole with Lara. “And Charlie doesn’t own the Long and Big Easy anymore.” “He sold it?” Lara leaned in. “Yes. To me.” I leaned in further. Lara’s pencil-thin brows lifted. “How interesting. Congratulations. That’s a big investment.” “Yes. And it will reopen.” “Perhaps I can offer a little free advertising. An interview could get the attention off the employees and back on you. Might draw out our criminal?” Lara knew every angle. But she also knew Muriel better than I. She got closer than I could—yet. “I have a few conditions.” I hedged. “Name them.” “The interview is about the club.” “Okay.” “I’ll have plenty of security.” “Good.” “Just you and one camera operator. No audience and no Muriel.” “Understood.” “And you answer all of my questions.” I looked her square in the eye. Lara kept her phony reporter smile in place. “I’ll answer them now.” “Not now. Tomorrow afternoon. Two p.m. at the club. Enough time?” I asked. “Absolutely. See you then.” Lara turned and walked stiffly out the doors of the ER.
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Whether she’d followed me or Tony’s ambulance, she’d gotten what she came for. Another round in her media-hype game. But this time I had home court advantage. I stepped outside the ER when Lara had gone and pulled out my cell phone. “Hi,” John answered. “Hey, I need a favor.” My calls to John generally started like that. “Shoot.” I told him what I wanted and thanked him before heading back in. Tony’s whole hand looked slightly swollen but his thumb had turned red. “It’s an Eastern diamondback. They’ve got antivenin ready just in case,” Greg said in my ear. I was conflicted over Tony. Of course I felt sorry for his being bitten. But a tiny part of me wondered if Muriel was on to something. If Tony wanted Charlie, and clearly he did, would he off Nemo? Would he cover his tracks by planting a snake at Charlie’s and then let himself get bitten? “The other snakes were exotic. This one is domestic,” I said to no one specific. “Could be nature and bad luck,” Greg agreed. I stood next to Tony. “Doing okay?” I asked. He shrugged. “Where are Ivy and Charlie?” I asked. “Went to get coffee. Charlie’s feeling better now,” Greg said. I turned back to Tony. “You care about Charlie, right?” He nodded. “You didn’t hurt Nemo, did you?” I brushed a hand over his temple. His eyes widened and he shook his head. I sensed he was telling the truth. Muriel was wrong—at least about Tony. “Then you need to stop acting stupid. Nemo’s barely dead. And Muriel would love to pin this on a gay love triangle. So behave and wait a few months before you cut and run up north after Charlie. Okay?” I kept my voice even and soothing. A psychologist technique that generally worked. Tony looked over my shoulder. I turned as Ivy and Charlie returned. “He’s going to be fine with some rest.” I patted his hand and moved so Charlie could sit with him. Greg lifted an eyebrow at me as we moved off to one side. “Muriel? Ivy said you and she saw this little development yesterday.” “We did. Tony and Charlie so fast? It checks out with Muriel’s prediction. He didn’t kill Nemo but if the press or Muriel sees them together it’ll be front page.” “You messed with his head while he’s suffering from a snakebite.” Greg frowned.
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“I gave him a fair and friendly warning.” Being a shrink had its pluses. I messed with minds too easily. Lara was next. “What’ll you dream up next?” Greg asked. “Funny you should ask. I’ve got an interview tomorrow and I need a little help from you and Ivy.”
***** Tony had avoided antivenin. The swelling had stopped and he’d shown improvement. That left my conscience clear to go home and try to project. I started off simple. I focused, quieted my brain and went from my bedroom to the kitchen. Just like arriving on the Other Side—I was there in a pop. It worked! As curious as I was about a few things in my home, namely the attic full of bad ghosts, I didn’t have time to pop in on them now. In the future, definitely. I’d drop in on the haunted objects too. Once they’d gotten loose and it took three humans and two ghosts to put them back. But now I didn’t have to open the door to visit them. Focused on Muriel’s front room, I let go of my current space and popped like a cork to Muriel’s front room. It was vacant and I sighed in relief. Not that anyone could see me but I was new at this. Outside the flock prayed. What interested me was the second floor. As I headed up the stairs, Gran appeared next to me. “What am I doing wrong now?” I whispered. “They can’t hear you,” she mocked me with a whisper. “I can use all the help I can get. I won’t complain.” “You did promise Penny to take a ghost with you. You’re here all alone. My granddaughter the liar.” Her power of guilt was strong. “Sorry. I did do a test run before I came here and it went fine. Why are you following me? I’m an adult. All I need is ghosts and spirits spying on me. What if I get a personal life?” The thought really creeped me out. “Don’t worry. We respect your privacy. But you shouldn’t go remote viewing alone your first time.” “Fine. Tag along.” I continued up the stairs and the hall looked as shabby as the downstairs. “Damn.” “What’s wrong?” Gran asked. “If you were being so nosy, I thought for sure you’d know my theory. She’s using those people out there for the money and her own luxury. Muriel just claims to give it to the poor. She wants to control people.” My instincts still felt right. My vision of bedrooms with all the finest hadn’t faded. “Maybe you’re projecting negative expectations? With your parents here your emotions and anxiety have certainly been closer to the surface.”
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“True. Then again maybe I just haven’t gone far enough.” I moved through a door and was justified. A large wooden bed with expensive sheets and comforter dominated the room. An elegant vanity with large mirror and cushioned seat faced the closed window. Blinds were tightly drawn so no one could see in. “See?” I smiled at Gran and moved closer to the vanity. “Dior perfume? A full bottle. Yes, living like monks.” “You’re right. Do you think this will convince those followers she’s a liar? You are all too aware of the power a cult leader has.” “If they don’t believe their own eyes then they deserve what they get. Dan’s not stupid. Besides, first I have to go prove Muriel was involved with Nemo’s murder somehow. She knew about it or planned it.” I moved to the other end of the room and heard a toilet flush. For a split second, I froze. Still not used to being invisible. I watched as Joan, Muriel’s very pregnant daughter, waddled from the attached bathroom. She sat on the bed and slowly eased back and turned so her feet were up on the bed. Every move seemed to be an effort. “She’s close,” Gran said. “A few days and no more.” “That you’ll tell me?” I rolled my eyes and froze again as the door opened. Agnes came through the door with a wet washcloth. “How’s my lamb doing today?” Agnes dabbed Joan’s forehead gently. “Thank you. I feel better. I wish it were over.” Joan sat back in a mountain of pillows. “In good time, my dear. Don’t fret. The baby knows what it’s doing.” Agnes picked up a half-full glass of water off the nightstand. “You need to drink.” “I’m peeing every ten minutes.” Joan pushed the glass away. “And you’re feeding a baby. You need to keep the fluids going.” Agnes pressed the glass in Joan’s hand. “It tastes funny.” Joan sipped and grimaced. “That’s your hormones talking. Probably got the acid reflux and the swollen ankles too. It’s natural. I’ll mix some sugar in it.” Agnes pulled a packet of sugar from the pocket of her housecoat and dumped the contents into the glass. Joan downed the water and gave the glass back. “Can I have a lemonade or sweet tea?” “No, no sweet tea. You’ve had one already today. No need feeding that baby a ton of caffeine. Lemonade coming right up.” Agnes patted Joan’s stomach and the response was visible. “Was that a foot?” I asked Gran. “It’s a baby—of course it’s a foot.”
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“Creepy. I don’t get it. Joan said Agnes and Muriel thought the baby was evil but then why is Agnes pampering her?” “Maybe Joan lied?” Gran suggested. “No. No way. I felt her fear. She’s afraid now. They’re caring for her. It seems they want the baby to be born. Then they’ll make their move.” “How’s that related to Nemo’s murder?” Gran asked. “Evil. They think the baby is evil just like they thought Nemo was. Muriel’s having someone do this for her. She has an alibi and whoever did it is probably out there chanting. They’ll claim insanity. Brainwashed. I’ve got to tie it back to Muriel. Come on.” I moved out of Joan’s room with a mental note to pop in on her in a day or two to check that she and the baby were okay. The next room was larger and even more expensively furnished. The mirror was covered with pictures and newspaper clippings of Muriel. And a few unflattering shots of me. “Muriel’s room?” Gran floated behind me. “Agnes. She’s totally devoted to her sister. Keeping the house, cooking and caring for the niece. If anyone is in the dark, it’s her. She’s the do as told type. She’s pretty weak with an immune disease.” I had a funny feeling about it. All my external observations backed that theory. But something nagged at the back of my mind. I looked for notes or papers but found nothing. “Let’s try again.” The next room was about the same size but the mirror wasn’t covered. Muriel was there and so were a few snakes. And Muriel wasn’t alone. “Are you sure? I’ve been doing it for days.” Muriel held up a little vial. “Trust me. You’ve got to use the real thing. Small doses. Antivenin will do nothing. It must be real venom. You’re sure it’ll be a coral snake?” It was the Snake Lady. Great another suspect. Or at least a potential accomplice. I looked to Gran who gave me a shrug. “Will it work?” Muriel asked. “You’ve already started with the doses. If given over a long enough time, possibly.” The Snake Lady inserted a stopper in the vial. “There are no guarantees. I would advise going a different route.” “I can’t control God’s plan. Some things are beyond even me.” Muriel put her hands to her chest as though humble. “What about the outcome? Surely you can get a vision. See what the right choice is.” The Snake Lady believed in Muriel! “No. Some things God keeps from me. Will you leave that snake? The coral? I got rid of that type after that shrink starting coming around.” Muriel frowned. At least I was getting to her.
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The Snake Lady took a little coral snake out of a cardboard box and put him into the empty cage. I recognized that snake. “It’s Toothy.” “What?” Gran asked. “Toothy. That’s the one she showed me at her house. I remember, he’s so small.” “You named him?” “Not so much named as got a full view of his fangs and it stuck with me. She’s going to use Toothy to test the baby.” “The evil thing again?” Gran nodded. “Right. Toothy isn’t full grown so maybe it won’t be as harmful?” “It’s a venomous snake, dear. It’s a natural defense. Some snakes are more dangerous as babies because they haven’t learned to measure their venom for warnings. They always give a full dose. It’s not just for protection either.” “Who needs the Snake Lady? I’ve got you.” I marveled at all Gran knew. “It also helps them digest their food—it begins breaking down the prey. An infant and a lethal snake. You need a plan.” “The cops won’t believe me.” “No, they probably won’t. You’ll never get a search warrant for this.” “Hell! I’ll just have to keep an eye on her. Whenever Joan goes into labor, I’ll have to be here. Keep an eye on her and the kid.” I didn’t know how. “But what if they wait a week or something before the test? Make sure the baby survives on its own and then bring out the snake?” “That’s a lot of what-ifs.” “I know. I’ll just have to stay close. Stay connected to Joan. I’ll feel the danger. I just can’t be too late.” “You were right about the upstairs. Muriel’s using people. Don’t doubt yourself on the rest.” I scouted the room but couldn’t open anything or move anything without Muriel and the Snake Lady seeing it. I moved near the snakes and got a reaction. Lots of bobbing heads and flicking tongues. And the rattlers warned me off. “They can see me?” I turned to Gran. “They can sense you.” “You can’t bite me now,” I taunted them. “Animals are pure spirits, Deanna. No evil. Just instinct and honesty. They are perfect creatures until man abuses them. They can’t harm you in this form but don’t tease them.” I backed off. “Fine. I think we’re done. I can’t search the room with the women here. They’ll know it’s me or one of my ghosts.” “If they’re at all sensitive they will. We’d better leave. You need to rest.” Gran disappeared. 117
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“I’m fine.” I disappeared and popped back to my bedroom and into my body. That’s when the exhaustion hit. “Why?” “Practice.” Gran appeared. “You’ll be a pro if you’d just practice and take it in small doses. Work your way up. Don’t run a marathon your first time out.” “That snake will kill the baby.” I felt the reality. The gloom. I couldn’t accept it. It had to be changed. “Unless you stop it.” “So screw practice. I’ll practice when people aren’t dying.” I rearranged the pillows under my head. Now I needed to sleep or I’d be no good tomorrow. “Then you’ll never practice. New Orleans always has murders.” “The police don’t need me for all of them.” Gran sat on the end of the bed and touched my foot. Well, it looked like she did but her touch passed right through me on this side. “You need to spend more time with The Lotus Circle. You can’t do it all yourself. Or all at once. They will be good for you. I promise.” “And I promise I’ll go more—once this case is over.” “This case?” She pointed for emphasis. “Yes. This case. I promise to include regular Lotus Circle time after this case. And keep it up once I’ve started new ones. I’ll try to exercise and eat a salad too now and then.” I pulled a spare pillow up on my head and tried to sleep. “Enough parents and grandparents. I understand.” Gran’s thoughts went right into my mind. It wasn’t that. It was all too much. A baby could die. Attacks on friends. A group of women who know more than I did. My parents were part of the problem but I was simply overloaded. I needed a routine that was for me. Throwing the spare pillow across the room, I lit the meditation candle. “Noah!” I called. Two snaps flew to my ear. He didn’t leave the library much, but for me he would. “Watch the baby. Any changes and you get me. Okay? In the shower, on the Other Side, asleep—anywhere.” Two snaps replied in the affirmative and I felt his presence leave me. I could delegate. I had to if I wanted to clear my head. I focused on the flame, slowed my breathing and felt the stress level drop. Sleep would overtake me soon but I was practicing. Eventually it’d all click and I’d be as good as Gran. In like twenty years. That was what plagued me. It’d take years for me to be as good as Gran at all of this. With or without The Lotus Circle, I had so much to learn. To find out. And it was all subtle and required quiet contemplation.
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Someday I’d live up to Gran’s legacy—until then I was in her shadow and trying to be half as good. Just knowing my fear lessoned the intensity. I needed to spend more time at The Third Eye and get comfortable around others with similar gifts. I was too used to being the freak in the show. That was comfortable for me. But my life was changing.
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Chapter Twelve At the club I was ready for Lara. John had arranged for a few local snake handlers other than the Snake Lady to bring in some samples. They relaxed in their habitats with handlers at the ready. Greg and Ivy had arranged security. Large and very strong men in and out of drag were at every exit. Big Bud was also standing by. “Ready?” Ivy asked. “Absolutely. Everyone clear?” I took a walk around the main floor. Tables and chairs were everywhere. The bar was stocked. Everything was ready to reopen but first I was going to rattle Lara’s cage. To make sure she didn’t pull anything, I did the little white light of protection thing. “Clear. Yes. Do whatever you say. No argument or hesitation.” Ivy nodded. “Good. And everyone is quiet. I’m the only one talking,” I stressed. Ivy zipped her lips with her long red nails and turned the imaginary key then gave me the thumbs-up. That made me smile. I had people that trusted me. If only I could live up to their expectations. Without a word, Greg opened the door and Lara plus a cameraman stepped in. “Is this a bad time, Deanna?” Lara asked. “You’re right on time. Welcome to the ready-to-reopen the Long and Big Easy. Under new management but just as good as the original.” I put a little sales flare in my voice. Lara surveyed the room. “Are the snakes part of an act?” “No. Not an act. That’s all for you.” “Me?” Her voice caught. “Yes. Remember you answer my questions and I answer yours. Then I thought of another fun idea.” I faked the enthusiasm. “Fun?” “Fun. Reenacting the crime. It sometimes helps to logic out issues and connect with the criminal. Psychic visions don’t always tell you the how and the why. Going through the motions of the criminal act can make it clearer.” “Reenact? With live snakes?” Lara’s hand went nervously to her throat. “Only one snake for the reenactment. The other two are questions. Don’t worry. We have three professional snake handlers. No one will get hurt. You’ll be perfectly safe.” I smiled wide and acted casual.
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Lara might be a good reporter, good at digging for the truth and harassing people. But I was a shrink. And no one could get inside people’s heads and scare them like I could. “Questions first.” Lara sat at a table away from the snakes. “Okay.” I sat across from her. “Why did you buy the club?” She opened her notebook with shaky fingers. “Don’t you need an intro or something?” I waved to the camera. “Oh right. We’ll do that at the end. Let’s get the audio on.” The cameraman wired me with a little microphone and battery pack and we were set to go again. Lara repeated her question for the camera and I smiled. “Because New Orleans needs strong businesses and residents to stay and run them.” “Do you fear more attacks?” “I realize some people out there might not want us here. But the club will reopen. Without fear.” “Do you believe people will come to your club with the killer still on the loose?” “The killer struck after hours and not a customer. I believe people will come because it’s safe and the best club in New Orleans.” “Have you had any psychic breakthrough about the killer with your psychic abilities?” “I’m much closer but I’m not going to reveal anything on tape. However, I’d love it if you’d assist me with a recreation of the murder so I can try to connect with it. You’re free to tape that.” Put her on the spot and get it on tape. “Well, that’s very unusual.” “Great ratings though,” I added. The cameraman nodded vigorously from behind his machine. “I’d love to help.” Lara stood. “What do I do?” I got up and moved her to the bar. “You’re Nemo. He was a small wiry man so the weight should be close. I’ll compensate for the height.” “And you’ll be the killer?” She froze. “No—not just me. Big Bud here will be the killer too.” I patted his beefy shoulder. Big Bud tipped his baseball cap but said nothing. “Okay, let’s begin. The killer knocked on the front door. There was no sign of struggle or forced entry so whoever it was had been let in. The struggle started at the bar.” “Um. Are you sure about this?” Lara held on to the bar.
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“Relax, Lara. No danger.” I waved off her growing tension but it was exactly the reaction I wanted. “Now the killer pulled a snake. We believe it was a coral snake. Exotic. Mr. Snake Handler, please.” The snake handler grabbed the serpent by the tail and carefully switched to holding it by the head. Fangs exposed, the rest of the snake’s long body curled and snapped with anger. “Great. Closer, over here. Threaten.” I directed the play like I saw it in my mind. “No.” Lara hopped on a stool and onto the bar. “See, Lara, you’re helping already. The killer being female might not be able to lift Nemo onto the bar to escape a snake. He’d climb. Perfect.” “Keep it away.” Lara pointed to the snake. “There’s no danger.” I nodded to the snake handler who brought the snake within a foot of Lara’s neck. “The snake bit and the killer put it away. How many times he let it bite we’re not sure but several full doses of venom were found in the body.” “No. I’m done.” Lara tried to jump behind the bar but Bud cut her off. “Just what Nemo would’ve tried to do. Get help. But the killer stopped him because the fatal wounds were inflicted from behind the bar. Excellent.” I winked at Bud. Always one to help, Big Bud lifted Lara by her armpits and laid her out on the bar like Nemo was found. I approached. “Not a good day to wear a short skirt, huh, Lara? Anyway, so then the killer broke a bottle of Patron tequila over Nemo’s head and used a sharp piece to slash the throat and face. The throat slash meant he couldn’t scream or call for help. The face is crueler. By now the neck is swollen from the snakebite. And then the killer yanked off Nemo’s gold crucifix as though he didn’t deserve to wear it.” Lara stared at me, Big Bud and the snake with his handler. Fear oozed from her. “Okay. Are we done?” “Oh no, Lara, now it’s my turn to ask questions.” I signaled to Greg who took the camera from the cameraman. Security made sure he behaved. “Can’t we sit?” she asked. “No. This is better. What do you know about Muriel’s money?” Lara shook her head. “It all goes to charity.” “Have you ever been to the second floor of her house?” “No.” That was the truth. “She’s lying to you. I promise it’s quite luxurious. Does Muriel want the club to reopen?” “You know her opinion on that.” Lara glanced at the drag queens. “Do you believe her followers are loyal enough to have carried out these attacks to please her?” I waved at the other handlers.
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“I don’t know.” She started to inch away but there were suddenly three snakes around her. Plus Big Bud blocked her path. “This is the snake that could’ve killed Charlie. A cobra.” Sweat beaded down Lara’s neck. “I don’t like snakes.” “I know, Lara. I’m psychic. That’s why I chose this particular method of conversation. Maybe that’s why Muriel keeps them. You don’t go to her compound, do you?” “No. We met at public places. That’s standard.” “You didn’t even look into the condition of her followers. Those that live there. Do you even care?” “A good reporter gets the story. You don’t get involved.” “I suppose that’s true. But I’m not a reporter. I’m a shrink and a psychic. We’re nosy and we get involved. At least I do. Also you’re defending the wrong woman. She’s a fake and it’ll ruin you.” “She’s never held me at snake-point.” I laughed. “You’re funny. I almost forgot to introduce our local attacker. Eastern diamondback. One like him bit my bartender.” The snake rattled. “Please.” Lara squirmed. I ignored her. “Are you listening to me? He bit one of my bartenders. Here at the bar. His hand is swollen and in pain. I don’t like people I know being in pain. If you know anything about the attacks…” “Nothing. I know nothing.” It was true. I nodded and we all backed off. “Muriel’s connected to this. It’s bad. Off the record, of course.” Greg gave the cameraman back his camera—after erasing the data. Ivy opened the front door and Lara and her cameraman headed out in a hurry. “That’s a dangerous game you just played and she knew nothing.” Greg leaned on the bar. “We shook the tree. In time something will fall. The visualization did help me. At least now she knows Muriel is playing her for a fool. In the end, she’ll get the story of Muriel’s being a fake and spin it her way.” I wasn’t thrilled with the results either but I was desperate and out of ideas. At least I’d sent a message. “What if she goes to the cops?” Big Bud asked. “With what? No tape and no marks on either of them. We just had a nice interview and reenacted the crime. No one got hurt. She agreed to it. Plenty of witnesses. She won’t go to the cops because we’d make her look like an idiot and she’d never get another piece of info from me again.” “She nearly wet herself.” Ivy giggled.
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“Worked like a charm! Thanks everyone. Please clean up what you brought and that’s all there is. Thanks very much. See you at the opening party.” I had other business to get to. Nothing was easy on this case. Of course if it were easy they wouldn’t need me.
***** I found Dad at Uncle Meep’s gun range. I’d bought my gun there but since the initial testing of my new firearm, most of my target practice had been of the serpent variety. I parked on the gravel space that was the parking lot of sorts. Dad’s rental car was a few spaces down. The shop part was empty so I made my way to the concrete area. I preferred this range because it had a back wall—no accidental holes. Dad was unloading his favorite gun, a Smith & Wesson revolver. While he reloaded, I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and removed his ear protection. All the other visitors had to be in the back room talking with Meep. This gun shop was the male equivalent of the local hair salon. “Hi,” he said. “Hey. Didn’t get enough guns at the show?” I asked. “Practice is always good. Is everything okay?” “Fine. Just wanted to talk.” “Talk?” “Yeah. I know you’ve been busy with the gun show and showing Mom and the boys around the city. But they’re all coming to the opening. I was hoping you’d be there too.” I did my best to sound casual and adult. What was it about parents that made an adult with two PhDs feel like a clueless child? “You want me to come to a drag club?” Tough Chicago dads played sports, worshipped the Bears and avoided the gay clubs on the north side completely. Even after a Cubs game. But this was my club. For me. “I’d like you to be there for opening night. You don’t have to stay long. Ivy wants me to make some speech and then it’s on with the show. But Mom is going to be there. I thought you might want to be there. For Mom.” “She’ll be fine. And she’ll keep an eye on the boys. I’ll have to think about it.” “And I thought you were a native. Let the good times roll. Any excuse for a party. They aren’t going to strip you and force you into drag.” “It’s not my thing. I won’t fit in. Your crowd might not like me there.” He could rationalize anything. Luckily I was well prepared. “You’ll be at a table with Mom, the boys, Greg, Mary Lou and John. All safe.”
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“I’ll discuss it with your mother.” He slid his ear protection back on and turned to shoot. I turned and left. That was Dad’s version of no. And I wasn’t about to beg. He didn’t have to support me. Now I understood, he thought the club was fine to make as an investment but not to frequent. As I climbed into my car, I rolled over the analysis as if he weren’t my dad. Older men were more prone to homophobia. Grandpa had been very macho. Dad got that from him. But if my brothers could overcome it, I couldn’t let Dad off the hook. I pulled out of the space and flew back to the city. I had to check on Joan and the baby. And figure out how to pinpoint Nemo’s killer. My sixth sense, on some abstract level told me that if I figured out one, I’d have both problems solved. I slammed my hand on the steering wheel. No luck. No luck with Lara, even with info I got on my travels with the remote viewing into Muriel’s house. And now I couldn’t even get my dad to attend my party for free. My skills sucked. Nothing was happening. Not fast enough anyway. How could I possibly be expected to solve crime and join up with The Lotus Circle if I couldn’t save a baby from a snake and stop a killer? I parked the car and went into the house. With each step, the tension grew. I had to do something else. Missy met me on the stairs, looking worried. “Noah report in?” I asked. “No baby yet,” she said. “Any sign of Nemo’s ghost?” “He’s still in reorientation. How about lunch?” Missy headed for the kitchen. “No. I’ve got to break some rules.” I slammed the bedroom door behind me.
***** I knew I shouldn’t go over. The anger brewed in the back of my mind. The attacks. Nemo’s death. Someone had to pay. My skills weren’t enough, fine. I needed to talk to Nemo for a few minutes. Who would stop me? Barging through the doors to the Other Side, I glared at the docile surroundings. Nemo—that’s all I could think about. Finding him. Asking him a few questions. A large pink building called to me. I’d never been in there. Never even noticed it before. I headed for it at a run. Gran appeared to one side of me. “Don’t do this, Deanna.” “Go away.” I didn’t know what else to do. No one had options or suggestions. Just demanded answers from me.
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I made it into the building where nothing was labeled. I followed my instincts and went to the fourth floor. Third room on the left. Nemo’s spirit was in there. I could feel him. “You’re not supposed to be here.” A voice echoed in my mind. I looked around but for all I knew it was my own conscience. “I don’t care.” I reached for the doorknob and was instantly thrown back, hard against the opposite wall. Everything went dark. The next thing I knew, I was in a large blue room. Gran and Cel stared at me. “I told you not to do that.” Gran clucked. “I had to try.” I tried to sit up and winced in pain. Pain? Here? “Is this the Other Side jail?” Cel laughed. “I miss you. No, De. You’re not in any pain either. Not really. When we’re human we’re so good at punishing ourselves.” “Gran never lost her touch to scold others.” I moved again and the pain hit. “Did I screw up things for Nemo?” “You didn’t get that far. You could’ve set him back weeks if we didn’t stop you.” Gran wasn’t forgiving as fast this time. “Why? What exactly goes on in there?” I forced myself to sit up despite the aches. “It’s sort of a ‘This is Your Life’, not just the fun parts though.” Cel sat on the bed and held my hand. “You see it all. Everything you did or didn’t do. Everyone you touched with a kind word or a cruel one. And you feel it. You feel what you caused. The pain and the joy.” “That sucks.” Note to self—don’t die. “Yes, but it’s how we learn from our time on Earth. It’s hard to remember every single thing you did and said, so the review helps. And then we get reoriented to this side of things. Nemo isn’t ready for you yet.” Cel smoothed the bedsheet. Finally it dawned on me that Cel was dead. “I’m so sorry. Dan said you died in the flood. I should’ve visited. I tried to warn you to leave. Didn’t you get my messages?” “I got them. My daughter wouldn’t leave. My son stayed behind to treat patients. My family was there, so I was there. I tried to help at the hospital but I was too weak.” “I’m sorry. Did Dan lose his arm trying to save you?” I held her hand and realized the pain was gone. “No, his arm…don’t get me started on his arm.” She began to rock. “The flood caused a lot of injuries. He seems functional.” “He didn’t lose his arm in the flood. No, he lost it from snakebites. That Muriel. She didn’t trust him. Said his faith was shaken and made him put his hand in the cage.” “He wouldn’t harm himself that way.” He’d been the doc to treat me after my neardeath thing on my first case.
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“Oh, it’s true. His sister went missing and I died. Everyone has a breaking point and he lost it. And those fool truth-seekers were right there to scoop him up.” Her head went slowly from side to side. “I should’ve checked on you when I got back. I’m sorry.” Dan lost his arm to a snakebite. “I just can’t believe one snakebite made his arm have to be cut off.” “She won’t allow medicine. Not traditional medicine.” “Venom is natural?” I understood. “That’s the story. The arm got infected and the venom rotted the tissue. One of his doctor friends dragged him in and amputated it. Dan refused even a local. Thank God he passed out.” “Of course he’d pass out from the pain. A doctor should’ve known to take the drugs.” I was on my feet, hopping mad again. “He wanted to suffer if his friend wouldn’t let him die. Dan’s been devoted ever since.” Cel looked shocked. “He should’ve run for the hills. Turned her in to the cops.” “For what?” Gran asked. “He’s free to leave. Free not to put his hand in the cage. You’re the only one she’s tried to force. The only one who’s said no to the test.” “But isn’t she the one who killed Nemo? She needed a case to prove herself. She’s dragging it out to make me look foolish but she did it.” “Her alibi,” Gran reminded. “Having someone do it for you is as guilty as having pulled the snake. Dan’s proof she has fanatic followers. Brainwashing is a powerful tool. I’ll bet she had one of them for an answer.” Both remained tightlipped. I knew there were rules. They couldn’t tell me anything or everything. But a hint might help. “Is it Dan?” I asked. “No, he couldn’t kill someone. The doctor in him took an oath not to harm people. He’d die for her but he’s good enough not to kill.” Cel walked to the window. “Joan?” I rolled it over in my mind. “She stopped by the house to throw me off?” “Eight months pregnant, carrying a snake and able to move Nemo? I don’t think so.” Gran sat back. Lara. She was benefiting from this more than anyone except Muriel. They sure seemed crazy and in it together. I wanted to get back to my body on the right side of life and check on Lara. But first I needed to know. “Where are we? Some sort of hospital? Everything is blue.” Gran smiled. “You’re in the recovery center. Just like there’s a center for reorientation. Some souls need recovery before they can be reoriented. Usually from a traumatic death. Some of the living have traumas when visiting here as well. You don’t
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realize it but trying to break into Nemo’s session caused you to have some negative effects. You’re fine now.” “So I can go?” I asked. “Of course. You’re never trapped here—even when you die.” “Well, I’ll take a pass. No death for me yet. That reorientation sounds terrible. I’ll see you guys later.” I decided to wake up and seconds later I was back in my own bed. Safe and grumpy. It hadn’t worked. I’d caused myself pain and got nothing for it.
***** Greg had heard from Dr. Martinez at the Tulane water cooler that I was due to take the test. In true Greg style, he insisted on tagging along. “It’s better if I drive. You’ll be really tired after the tests.” He unlocked his doors and I slid in the passenger seat. “I’ve done this before in Chicago. I’ll be fine.” After astral travel and remote viewing this would be nothing. He drove to Tulane—not far from the mansion in the Garden District. With his employee parking permit we got a front-row spot. Inside, he handed me over to Dr. Martinez and had to wait outside. Penny and I were led to different rooms. “Ready?” Dr. Martinez asked. “Been here done this already.” I shrugged. “Empty your pockets and leave your purse here.” I dumped my keys and purse there. Then Dr. Martinez frisked me. A solid test checked for wires, communication devices or anything contraband. Nothing was permitted. “All set. This way.” Dr. Martinez led me into a room with a couple chairs and a table. It was oddly like the lie detector with a big machine next to the chair. After two PhDs, I’d thought my testing days were done. A psychic should’ve known better. Maybe I was losing it? I wasn’t that lucky. The chair here was at least padded and comfortable. I leaned back. “What’s first?” “We’re going to monitor your brain waves.” She attached little pads with electrodes to my forehead. “Then we’ll start with the standards.” For an hour I told her what objects she held up in the next room. I wrote them down and said them for the recorder in the room. I’d had more fun doing my taxes. “All done.” Dr. Martinez appeared in the doorway. They didn’t tell you your results until the end. “Next?”
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“Let’s see how you are at Tarot?” She sat down across from me and handed me a deck still in the box. That was a new test. “I don’t know how to read Tarot.” I put the deck on the table. “They don’t bite. Just shuffle the deck and deal. Tell me what you see.” “About you?” I asked. “Naturally.” “I don’t do readings. Besides Penny said it takes years to learn to interpret Tarot accurately. I’d deal you a poker hand first.” “Okay. Let’s try this.” She pulled out the deck and shuffled. Then she dealt five cards facedown. “Name them.” Left to right I called Three of Wands, The Empress, Death, the Seven of Cups and Bugs Bunny. “Bugs Bunny?” she asked. I nodded. She flipped over the cards and a child’s Looney Tunes collectible card had gotten stuck to a Tarot card and shuffled in the deck. “I believe it’s your daughter’s. All of them have purple backs, same size. Understandable mistake. You brought a deck from home?” “My daughter is grounded.” Dr. Martinez put the cards away. “Penny said you’d refuse the Tarot test.” “Without training in Tarot, of course I’d refuse. To me the Death card means death. I don’t know what crystal is used for what either. It’s not my thing.” “But you won’t give readings either?” “No. I’m sorry, is this is a test of ESP or my mental health?” I crossed my arms. Shrinks hated to be analyzed. “Both really. We need to know you’re not abusing your powers. Misrepresenting yourself.” “Fakes are the lowest people. And even though I’m legit—I don’t need the money from readings. I won’t take money from people.” “Reports say Charlie gave you money to catch a killer.” “I tried to give it back. He wanted me to find the killer. He forced the one hundred dollars on me. A licensed private investigator would charge more than that. I never asked for any.” “And if you had people wanting your services, you wouldn’t charge them?” “I inherited a fortune and a mansion. I don’t need the money. If it’s a real case where people are missing, in danger or dead, yes. I do my best for free.” I watched Dr. Martinez scribble notes. “Do you feel readings are unethical?”
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I’d never thought about that angle before. “If the psychic is truly gifted, they have to make a living too. And people want the service so no harm. I just don’t like the idea of ruining the surprise and fun.” “Fun?” “Life is supposed to be a surprise. Most of my friends don’t ever want to hear the negative. No warnings. But telling the fun stuff just takes the good surprises away. I think life is better if you don’t know what’s coming. Positive or negative.” “I see. And what’s your religious affiliation?” Potentially dangerous ground. “Um—just your standard rebellious Catholic schoolgirl. I don’t practice anything really. Is there a religion related to The Lotus Circle because then I’m out.” “No. Not at all. It’s just for our records so we know whom to call on in certain situations. We have a strong network to help each other but we try to connect those in need with those with the strongest background. Your knowledge could be useful.” “Sure. Ghost of a dead nun goes crazy and chops off the penis of every monk in the monastery? I’m your gal. Lots of nun rage.” Dr. Martinez scribbled. “That was a joke,” I said. “I know. Your casual attitude is good to note as well. Not easily shocked. Don’t take yourself too seriously. You’ll find some members take their gifts very seriously.” “I take it seriously. I help people. But I’ve seen what people do to each other. As a psychologist—the forensic analyses alone, you either get immune to it or you let it go. There are a lot more good people in the world than bad. I’m not going to lose my humor or sense of fun because I deal with dark things.” “Penny and Greg said you joke about your gift. Returning it.” “Psychic sounds just great in theory. But it’s a lot of data and a lot of it isn’t pretty. Most people couldn’t handle it.” “Not all at once, no. Gradual improvement.” “I had a whole childhood. Twenty-six years of it, actually. And I’m still learning. It’s still a challenge.” “And being a medium? Seeing the dead? Would you return that?” I stopped and reflected. “No. The dead aren’t so bad. Most of them. And I get to have Gran around. Look, it’s pointless to say what I would or wouldn’t return. It’s mine and I’m stuck with it. So I deal.” “Now you’re sounding like a patient.” “Thanks. Can’t I just take the tests?” “A few more questions. Do you feel you work better alone or with others?” “What, like with ghosts or spirits?” “No other people.” 130
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“Greg and Ivy are okay. I have friends. I’m not some antisocial psychic.” “I didn’t mean that. Those people have no extra skills, right?” She made more notes. I shrugged. “Right.” “Have you ever worked with anyone who did have gifts like yours?” “Gran. She’s dead though so I guess that doesn’t count.” “No, it doesn’t. Are you open to working with another psychic?” “I was all for it with Muriel but she’s a big fake. I hate frauds.” I tapped the pen hard on the table. “But if someone needed help or could help me, sure.” Four hours later after a lot more tests, I was pronounced an eighty-nine percent accurate psychic on the tests I took. No one was one hundred percent. I was in the top rankings. Dr. Martinez handed me some forms. “For The Lotus Circle.” “I’m sane enough to join?” She laughed. “You already knew that.” “I don’t always play nice with others.” “Noted.” Dr. Martinez walked me over to Penny. “You both did well in your gifted areas.” “Can I have a copy of my results?” I asked. “Of course.” Dr. Martinez went into an office and returned with a copy. “Thanks. So we’re free to go?” “It’s not jail, De.” Greg approached. “Feels like it. Or worse, the SATs. I suck at standardized testing.” He looked at my results. “Didn’t suck too badly. Elinor cracked the ninety-fifth percentile but you’re still young.” “Everyone is a critic.” Penny rolled her eyes. “Especially those without any gifts. He’s just jealous. And I’m starving. Six hours of no food. Let’s go.” I wanted fresh air and held my test results tight. Academic testing was hard evidence. Some would scoff but I knew it was accurate.
***** Greg dropped me at home after a late lunch of trying to talk me into teaching. One day I wanted to teach but like The Lotus Circle, some things just had to rank before that priority. The house was quiet, Greg made an excuse of a department meeting at Tulane but I knew he’d be next door with Mary Lou. The only presence I felt in the house, at least human presence, was my mom. I found her in the main parlor watching television. “Everything okay?” I asked. “Yes. Just a long day. Your father and brothers went to some sporting thing.” 131
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“Fun.” I sat next to her. “Where were you?” “You were here alone?” “No, Ivy was here. I went with her to the club for a bit. Then she had a show at another club. I didn’t feel up to it.” She looked at my hands. “What’s that?” “Oh, it’s just results. I went to Tulane and had a test on my special abilities. I did pretty well.” It was a weird flashback—like showing Mom my report card. She didn’t fully understand what she was looking at—but she looked. “Very good. You’ve gotten a lot of exposure to this side of your life. Cajun—New Orleans. Psychics.” “Yeah. Feels more even now. I loved all the Irish stuff growing up. The Celtic side I know. Now it’s nice to have both.” I hadn’t realized but Mom was probably feeling left out. “Bud’s has every microbrew in the world. I’m sure they have Irish beer.” “No, that’s okay. I just wanted to give you something. My mother didn’t have the money Elinor did, but she had this.” Mom slid off the silver Claddagh ring from her left hand. “Mom, no.” I couldn’t take that. “Yes. If you’re going to live here, I want you to remember your other half.” She put the ring of my right ring finger, the heart and crown facing out to show I was single. “Thanks. I won’t take it off.” I admired the simple sterling silver symbol of love and friendship. “So you’re okay with me? Here?” “I won’t be turning cartwheels but I understand. You need to do this. God gave you a gift and your Grandmother Elinor gave you the means to pursue helping others without needing to earn a living. I’m one hundred percent Irish, dear. I know a sign when I see one.” Tension and fear melted. The internal clench of parental rejection gone, I hugged her. She’d approved of me, as an adult. No patronizing on judgment. “Your brothers are fine too.” She hugged me back. “It’s Dad.” I ignored the half-clench that returned. “Don’t think about that today. Worry about that tomorrow.” Mom pulled back with a laugh. “Christ, Mom, you better go back to Chicago. You’re sounding like Scarlett O’Hara.” “The South isn’t so bad.” She shrugged. When she didn’t correct my cursing, I knew we’d really hit a new level. “Want to go bar-hopping? I don’t drink much but you can.” “No. I’m thinking shopping. I need some souvenirs for my sisters.” “Okay. Let’s go.” I thought she’d bought everything in the French Quarter but Mom had four sisters to buy for.
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As I opened the front door, I noticed my ring in the light and felt connected and centered. Meditation was good but with families sometimes things had to evolve and work out in their own weird way. If my Irish Catholic mother could come around, I knew Dad would too. Well, I hoped. I just wouldn’t show either of them the page where I was tested on Tarot cards. They didn’t need to see me score an F.
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Chapter Thirteen My dress for the club’s opening night was awesome. I studied myself in the fulllength mirror and was impressed with Tony’s handiwork. The slit up the side didn’t show too much leg but glimpses that made me look just sexy enough. The neckline was a bit low but stayed firmly in place. It was a dress I could dance in and nothing would fall out. I used the silver shoes and purse from my birthday party. Not a perfect match but no one would be looking at me except during my speech. The doorbell rang as I slid my gun into my silver clutch purse. Noah had reported no baby earlier that day but I had my eye on Joan. Plus Lara. And an attack on the club wasn’t out of the realm of reality. I carefully made my way down the stairs without catching my floor-length dress on my heel. With a sigh of relief, I opened the door. John was decked out in a tux and looked like he was perfectly comfortable in it. He circled around me and whistled like a frat boy at Mardi Gras. “Nice manners from a judge. You men have it easy. Buy one tux and you’re set for life.” I admired how he filled it out. “Custom-made Armani isn’t good enough? You’re getting spoiled with Elinor’s money.” “Please, I don’t know an Armani from a knock-off. Tony made my gown.” I twirled. “Very nice. Where are Ivy and Greg?” John looked around for the mass of people that always seemed to be in my house since Katrina. “Gone. Ivy has been at the club all day. Greg and Mary Lou went over earlier to help out. My mom and brothers are going to meet us there from the hotel. Just us here.” “It’s a miracle.” “Yes. But I have to go to the party or they’ll hunt me down.” John held the door for me. “Let’s go then.” I walked outside and stared at his cookie-cutter dark SUV. They all looked alike to me. “What’s wrong?” John asked. “I can’t go to a drag club in that.” “Why not? It’s a loaded BMW.” Granted, his car had every option including luxury, but it lacked a certain style. “It’s not enough. Too normal. We have to take my convertible.”
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“What? Okay, so it’s a bit of a high step up for the dress you’re in, but I’ll help. Who’ll know what you arrive in?” I pulled the keys from my clutch. “I’ll know. Style over substance tonight. Get in the spirit!” “Fine. Give me the keys.” “Not a chance. My car, I drive.” I marched to my minty-green boat. A real ‘59 Cadillac. True style. “I know it’s old-fashioned so I won’t say anything about me not driving. But you’re going operate a car in those heels?” “Yep. Done it before. Get in.” I hopped in the driver’s seat and waited for him. “John, we’re going to a drag club. You’ll get hit on at least ten times tonight by guys. Your man card is a moot point this evening. Unless you want to go in by yourself. Showing up with an actual woman is the only thing macho about the night for you. Your choice.” I started the car and he jumped in. “You’re sneaky and manipulative.” “I’m a shrink. The human mind is my business and occasional playground.” I drove off toward my club. I handed the keys to the valet and admired the club all lit up again. The crowd lined up to get in was quite long. I’d been worried since Lara brought it up that no one would show because of the potential threat. But the gay crowd was pretty hard to rattle. John and I slipped through the crowd and in the front door. A small crowd had been invited in early. My family and friends. “Oh my God! You look so good!” Ivy rushed up and hugged me. “Tony, look.” Tony moved from behind the bar. “Nice. You got the equipment.” “Thanks. Your dress is fabulous. You should do this for a living.” “Someday.” Tony went back to the bar. “Is he okay?” I whispered to Ivy. “A little moody and grumpy since the snake. He is a bit freaked out to be back. But I told him he has to face his fears.” Ivy glowed in a deep red gown that seemed to wind around her form. She topped it with a red feather in her black hair. “You look amazing!” “Always do.” Ivy winked. I looked around. “Is Charlie here?” “Lo siento, baby. No. He wasn’t up to it. Tony might be more relaxed if he was here but you go enjoy, mingle. I’ll open the door at nine sharp. Things to check on.” Ivy started to hustle her red Manolos away. “Wait.” I grabbed her arm. “What? I’ve got temperamental performers to soothe.” Ivy huffed.
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“I wanted to thank you. I couldn’t have this place or this party without you. You did it all, Ivy.” Her eyes got misty. “Stop. It’s nothing. It’s what I love.” “I know. You’re great at it. What do you say to a full-time job?” “Here?” “Of course, here. You’d be the manager. Full authority to hire, fire, buy and schedule. Whatever is hip and trendy. I need you. I can’t do it and my psychic stuff. Big salary and the office are yours. But I get the profits.” She waved both hands in front of her eyes to keep the tears back. “It’s like a dream job. Can I still perform?” “Absolutely. You make the schedules. Will you take the job?” I put an arm around her wide shoulders. “Loca De. Of course I’ll do it. Now I really have to get back to work.” Ivy dashed off. I felt ten pounds lighter as I walked over to my mom and brothers. The boys were in suits and uncomfortable. “You don’t have to stay. Go party.” “No, we’ll stay for the speech. Free drinks, right?” Frank asked. “Free but the bartender will cut you off before you’re drunk so pace yourself.” I didn’t want my brothers in trouble. “Go help someone.” Mom shooed them away. “Like it?” I turned so she could see the dress. “Lovely dress. And the club is wonderful. Your father will get over it. But I doubt he’ll come.” “I know. No big deal.” It was sort of a lie but I was used to disappointment. “I’ve never been to a club like this. Any advice?” Mom asked. Couldn’t help but smile at that one. “You’ll be fine. Just keep an eye on the boys. If they get tipsy, they might forget and hit on a queen. Rude surprise to find male equipment under a dress. It could get weird.” “Good point.” Mom blushed. “Most queens you can tell but a few are truly stealth.” I saw the door open and people poured in. A large table up front was reserved for my party but I found myself passed from one conversation to the next. People I’d never met were chatting about everything to me. Finally, I found the bar. “Diet pop with lime. Tony nodded and poured single-handed. “No alcohol?” “No thanks. I want to stay sharp tonight.” I sipped my drink and headed for my table. “It’s like a wedding,” Mom shouted over the music.
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“Not yet legal but we’re working on it.” The cocktail waitress winked at my mom as she delivered a martini. Mom looked confused on how to reply. I just smiled and sat next to John. “Okay?” I asked. “Fine. Although Lance and Matt should be here.” John studied Greg and Mary Lou, very displeased. “I invited Matt. Lance is Mary Lou’s problem.” “He’d never have come anyway.” John shrugged. “I know. I told Greg to find a place to live other than mine. I’m not going to be in the middle of this.” Even if John were okay with it, I had two friends in an affair. Something would end badly and I’d be in the middle. “Smart.” John seemed to relax a bit. “So is this it? Any performance?” “Yeah, they’ll perform. I think Ivy’s going to say a few words and then me. Then it’s all fun from there.” The lights dimmed and then a spotlight hit the main stage and Ivy appeared from behind the glittering curtains. The crowd quieted as she stepped up to the microphone. “Welcome to the grand reopening of the Long and Big Easy.” The crowd erupted in applause. “Neither Katrina nor criminals will keep us from the party!” Ivy seduced the crowd with sultry tones and the perfect words. The applause thundered again. “Thank you all for coming. Before we get to the main performers, I want our new owner to say a few words. Ladies, gentlemen and undecided…Deanna Oscar.” The cheering lasted until I made my way up on stage. All the queens were so elegant I took my time walking to try to match their style. “First, I’d like to thank everyone for coming tonight. A straight girl buying your club, perfect excuse to stay away.” I paused for the laughter. “I’d also like to especially thank Ivy Delacroix who has done all of the planning. All this would not be possible without her and I assure you it’ll remain that way. She has agreed to manage the club full-time so the quality and character will be maintained.” I waited for the clapping to subside. “Lastly I want to thank Nemo. He was an excellent human being and a great friend. His door was open to all. This club was a haven from cliques and cattiness. You never had a fight here. And you won’t because we’re going to keep his vision alive.” Cheering rang out.
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“I’m not much for speeches, but Nemo was one of the best. I know he’ll keep an eye on this place and let me know if we do anything he wouldn’t do. So thank you and enjoy!” I stopped to look out at the crowd and took a deep breath. As Ivy announced the first performer, I made my way back to my seat. “Very nice, dear.” Mom patted my hand. As everyone turned to watch the first act, I felt weird. It wasn’t nerves. I closed my eyes and a vision came clear. Joan was in labor at Muriel’s home. And worse, Agnes had the snake in the bed ready to go. Toothy was nervous and loose. Joan was terrified. Muriel wasn’t in my vision. I opened my eyes and looked at the bar. It was Agnes. She’d killed Nemo. So meek and quiet. So domestic in appearance. The truth was she really believed she’d done God’s will. Even a lie detector wouldn’t catch her. And yet, she hid behind her sister’s popularity. “I have to go,” I whispered to John. “Now?” “Now. Mom will give you a ride home.” “What’s going on?” He grabbed my arm. “Killer. Got her. Have to go to Muriel’s.” I pried his fingers off and ran for the door. As I found my car, a familiar form rounded the corner from the additional parking area. “Dad?” You could’ve knocked me over with a nudge. He couldn’t be here. “Show’s over?” He looked at his watch. “You came?” It was huge. “It’s your place. I won’t stay long but I wanted to see it.” “That’s great. Thanks.” I gave him a quick hug. “But I’ve got to go.” “What? I came and now you’re leaving?” His voice got an edge. “Sorry but I figured out who the killer is. The gift doesn’t go on any schedule I can control.” I waited for more complaints. I felt bad. He’d made an effort and came to a drag club. Now I was dashing off. “You’re going to face a killer in that dress? Alone?” He stood next to my car. I hopped in and started the engine. “No time to change. I’ll be back.” Dad opened the passenger door and sat next to me. “What are you doing?” “Drive. You’re the one in the hurry. I’m not letting my little girl go after a killer in heels and alone. No way.” He folded his arms. Time was flying by so I drove. “I’ve got my gun. Plus I’ve caught killers before.” “Dressed for the prom?” he retorted. “No, not like this.” I floored the car as we got on the open road.
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“You should let me drive. What if you get a weird vision or something?” “My car, I drive. Besides my visions aren’t debilitating.” I looked over at him. “Did you ever do this with Gran?” He shook his head. “She never let me around. I didn’t have it and I was too young. By the time I understood, your grandfather moved us up to Chicago.” “They’re okay now. They’re together again.” I hoped it made him feel better. “Good. You’re slowing down.” He nodded to the road. Dad was a guy. Crisis first, talk of feelings was the last thing on his list. I put the pedal to the floor and prayed we’d get there in time. I really tried to focus on my dad not getting hurt in whatever we faced. That was something I could never live with. The tires screeched as I braked hard in front of Muriel’s home. The followers were out front as though nothing were happening. “What’s this mob?” Dad asked. “Worse than a mob. It’s a cult. But they’re not that bad. Most aren’t armed or violent. We’ve got to get inside. The woman who killed Nemo is after a baby now.” “Muriel?” Dad was doing his best to keep up. “No. Agnes. It’s weird but you’ll see.” I opened the gate and was met with two big guards standing in my way. “I’m here to see Muriel, please let me by.” “It’s time. Family only.” “Time?” Dad muttered. “Yes, time.” I jumped in. Sometimes you had to go along with the delusion to keep people from harm, namely me and Dad. “The baby is almost here. They need my help.” “Family only in the house.” The guards stood firm. “Fine.” I backed off and Dad followed. We got back in the car. “Now what?” he asked. “Back door.” I drove slowly and took a few blocks of detour in case they followed me. I parked next to Muriel’s snake-filled garage. “Damn.” “What?” Dad looked around for more of the mob. “Dan.” One guard on the back door and it had to be the one I knew. That could make it easier or harder. It was still better than a mob. Before we got out, I drew a protective line around Dad and then myself. I had no idea if it’d work on others but I had to try. I led the way to the back door and Dad had an eye out. Dan noticed us and moved forward out of the shadows. “Get out of here, Deanna. Family only. No visitors tonight.” I held up my hands slowly, my dainty silver purse on my shoulder held the firepower but I wouldn’t need it. At least not with Dan. He’d been hurt enough by this
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cult. “Dan. I’m not going to hurt anyone. I save people, remember? I help people. The baby needs help. I can help with the test.” His head craned in shock. Apparently the baby wasn’t a secret but testing it was. “You can’t cure the baby. It’s up to the Lord.” “I can help. I helped your mother. She’s worried about you now.” I moved closer to Dan and the back door that was my only entrance. The windows were all barred over, not uncommon in the Ninth Ward, especially after Katrina. “Maybe his mom can talk him out of it?” Dad asked. “She’s dead,” I said through gritted teeth. Maybe he’d get the hint to hush! “Mama trusted you but ended up dead. You weren’t there for her. Couldn’t save her.” Dan shook his head slowly. “I know but I tried. And she’s happy now. She’s with Little Cel. Your niece’s murder broke her heart and she wasn’t the same afterward. You know that. It was the only way they’d be together. Your mother could’ve fought harder and you know it. She made her choice. And I know you’re angry she didn’t choose you, she left you with a sister who’s always in trouble and otherwise alone. It’s not fair. But you’re strong, Dan. Don’t you miss being a doctor? You’re supposed to be healing people not guarding a door.” Dan had taken good care of me after my near strangulation last year. He had a good bedside manner and calming effect. This wasn’t what he was meant to do in life. “My choice is to be here.” Dan paced. Seeing the confusion in Dan’s face, I decided to take the decision out of his hands. My cult of one would make it simple for him. “I know it’s your choice. That’s something I envy. I don’t have a choice, Dan. My gift won’t go away and I’ll help the baby with or without you. I won’t hurt anyone but you won’t stop me.” Dan turned and headed for the garage. As he passed my shoulder he whispered, “I never saw you.” Dad and I hustled inside, not sure what we’d find. I raced up the stairs in heels not designed for that sort of thing. Luckily I didn’t fall. My sense told me the place was deserted except for two people. I threw open the door to Joan’s room and found them just as they were in my vision. Except the snake was still in its glass cage. I’d made it in time. “Leave,” Agnes shouted. “Really not going to.” I went to grab the aquarium out of Agnes’ reach but she dumped the snake onto the bed. Toothy was loose and crawling next to Joan’s leg. The panting mixed with shrieks as Joan fought labor and panic didn’t really help Toothy stay calm either. “Please. Make her stop,” Joan begged.
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“The child is to be tested. I’ve tried everything I know. We’ll see if my efforts have brought us a believer destined to lead or an evil mix of your sin.” Agnes sprinkled holy water over Joan, some of which hit the snake and seemed to piss it off even more. “This lady needs a shrink,” Dad whispered in my ear. “I am the truth!” Agnes screamed. “Wait, I thought it was Muriel who was the truth. Why is it always the quiet ones?” I’d overlooked Agnes because she was the quiet one who served others and seemed devoted to her sister. “The meek shall inherit the earth.” She stood waving her arms as though preaching to a crowd. “And patience is a virtue. Not one I have of course, but for some. But meekness isn’t really me either. So why don’t we just put all the cards out there, okay? You’re the brains of the operation and you used your sister as a puppet.” “She had the power. The gift to move objects with her mind. If I had been here during the storm, I too would have been granted a gift. But my sister lacks my vision.” “You’re not psychic either.” “No, the vision of what her gift was meant for. To lay out the truth and share it with others. To rid the world of evil and nonbelievers.” “I’m not really sure if this is what God had in mind. Maybe you got the message wrong? Seriously, seems a bit extreme.” “Our city is filled with sinners.” “Like Nemo?” I pushed. “Nemo was one, yes. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.” “Can we mix a few more clichéd metaphors with bible quotes, please? What’s a wolf in drag got to do with anything?” I rolled my eyes. This was torture. I ignored the knot in my stomach as the snake wound over Joan’s leg. Outwardly I had to be calm or we were both snake food. Toothy had enough reach to strike Joan or myself. “Nemo brought us aid after the storm. He was passing out donated things.” “The bastard. Really, I’m amazed you didn’t kill him right on the spot. Look, why can’t we put the snake in the cage and take Joan to the hospital? She can have the baby there. It’ll be safer for all of us. If she gets into trouble with labor she could die.” I needed to move Joan for more reasons than I could count. “Patience. If she’s meant to live, she’ll live. If not, the snake and God’s Will shall take care of it.” Joan cried harder. I pulled my cell phone from my purse and threw it to Dad. Then I grabbed my gun. Nice time was done. The snake was starting to poke around under Joan’s knee. Without a word, Dad dialed 911 and requested police and an ambulance. I leveled the gun at the snake’s head. “Dead snakes don’t bite. Put it away, Agnes.”
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“No. Nemo deserved what he got and so do they. Nonbelievers must be cleansed from the world.” “So you killed Nemo and used your sister to play psychic in his murder for the publicity. Even yanked off his crucifix.” I moved closer and tried to get a clear shot of the snake. My line of fire meant I’d hit Joan. “He had no right to wear that. Two birds with one stone. Muriel believed and has the gift of telekinesis. And she’s good with the public. Appealing. I’m not appealing. I’m best at home. I care for my people. I keep evil away from them.” Agnes waved her hands over the baby and the snake took notice, swaying with her. “I don’t see Muriel here now.” The snake was high enough. I’d only hit the wall. I pulled the trigger and my gun jammed. “Damn it!” “I told you to use a revolver.” Dad moved closer to examine the piece. “Not now, Dad.” I opened the gun and worked to clear the jam. “You will not win. God is on my side.” Agnes pulled a second snake from behind her and rushed me. Before I could react, Dad swung back and punched Agnes square in the face. Agnes went down like a ton of snakes. I froze. Never in my life had I seen my father hit a woman. Rule one for my brothers was you never hit girls. Rule two was you only fought in self-defense. Rule three was you never take the first swing. I guess rule two trumped the other two. “Dad?” I didn’t know what to say. “No one threatens my little girl. Now shoot that snake.” Dad pointed to the loose rattler moving closer to his foot. I closed the gun, aimed and pulled the trigger. One headless snake squirmed on the floor. Now the other. Toothy was feisty because of the activity. I aimed and tried to draw him away from Joan but then a mob burst in. Luckily it was the good mob. John, paramedics and police plus one snake handler. I backed off Toothy. “He hasn’t bitten anyone. He deserves a good home in a zoo.” I put my gun away and watched as Toothy was wrangled into a big bag. Once it was safe, the paramedics rushed in and tended to Joan as the police cuffed the stillunconscious Agnes. Mental note—never piss Dad off! He had quite a right hook. Matt swaggered in. “What the holy hell did you do now?” “All I did was shoot another snake. I told you this place is dangerous. She had her niece in labor at snake-point. That crazy woman wouldn’t let us take Joan to a hospital or anything.” I went to straighten my dress and found Tony’s work flawless. I was good for all my running and shooting. “She pulled that rattler on us.” Dad pointed to the dead one. “Bag it,” Matt ordered a young uniform. “So weird cult stuff but no murderer yet for Nemo’s case.”
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“That’s her. She did it for the cult. He was a nonbeliever or whatever. It gave her sister a case for publicity and Muriel has a telekinetic power so she could fake it well enough.” “The chandelier thing at the party?” Dad asked. “She didn’t know it would happen psychically. She made it happen. Muriel set it swinging until it came loose.” Finally I didn’t feel like the second-class psychic anymore. “And Agnes killed Nemo?” Matt scratched his head. “Yes. She confessed.” “To you two? That won’t hold up in court.” “She did it!” Joan screamed as they wheeled her out of the room on a gurney. “Aunt Agnes did it. She would’ve let my baby be bitten and die. And the same for me. She did it! They saved us!” “Now that sounds like a woman with proof. I’ll get her statement. We’ll bring Muriel in for questioning again. Agnes will be held for this.” “Without bond,” John added. Matt waggled a pen at me. “I want you and Pops at the station tomorrow morning. Give your statements and I want you there when I chat with Muriel.” “We’ll be there.” I put my phone back in my purse. “You’re both okay?” John asked. “Fine. Everyone outside is okay?” I felt my hair for flyaways. “Yeah. Got the uniforms out there interviewing. They’ll have to mark this room a crime scene. No one in or out so we should go.” I headed out the door and down the stairs with Dad and John behind me. The first floor was so depressing so I went outside. In the crowd, I spotted Dan. “The family failed. The baby will live. The truth is a lie.” Dan sat on the ground with his head in his hand. I knelt down next to him. “They were a lie. The whole second floor is full of luxury. They used you. It’s not real.” “I wanted it to be. I wanted it to be that simple.” He stared at the stump where his lower arm and hand used to be. “I know. Life just isn’t that simple. But being a doctor is. You helped people. That’s all you really want, isn’t it?” “Yes. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t save my mother or hundreds of others after the storm. I failed.” “You only fail if you give up.” I looked up as they loaded Joan into the ambulance and Matt stepped up with them. “I do know a woman who could use a doctor right about now.”
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His eyes focused on mine and I saw a clarity that’d been missing. Dan stood and ran for the ambulance, proclaiming himself a doctor. They let him climb in. “You’re sure that’s safe?” Dad asked. “Dan never wanted to be in a cult, he lost his family and himself and wanted something. He really is a doctor and he needs to get back to that reality. I think he just broke through all his grief and came back to the world. Besides, Matt’s there getting Joan’s statement. Even Matt could overpower an unarmed one-armed man.” “What happened to his arm” Dad was still catching up. “Snake bit it. Several actually. And he didn’t get it treated. Had to come off.” I turned to John. “Thanks for coming. Now get Muriel.” “Any super-psychic idea where she is?” I cleared my mind and tried to see her. “She’s visiting the Snake Lady. I guess her injuries from Katrina left her back messed up. She’s getting stung.” “At this hour?” John frowned. “If you were a cult leader claiming to have psychic powers, would you want people to know you need bee stings to keep moving?” “Point taken. That snake tonight, it was the one we saw at the Snake Lady’s house, right?” “Yep. I guess Muriel or Agnes borrowed it. I don’t think the Snake Lady was in on it exactly. She thinks she’s healing people but Muriel, she knew what Agnes was after and never stopped it.” “We’ll get them. You get back to your party. Pity I never got to dance with you in that dress.” He grinned. “The night’s young. Head back to the club after you’re done. It’s police work. You just issue the warrant and deny bail.” I reached up and straightened his tie. Just then my dad cleared his throat. I turned and dropped my hands. “What? A rich judge and you’ve got a problem?” “I’m right here and he’s hitting on you?” “You’re always here now. You’re visiting. And you’re taking this protectiveness toward the only daughter thing a bit too far.” “I’ll talk to you later.” John slipped out before any of it was directed at him. “Fine. You’re an adult. There’s just a lot of men here and it’s confusing.” Dad walked to the car. “There are men everywhere. And trust me, with all the crime I’m not going to be sleeping with any one of them anytime soon.” I smiled. “Enough, enough!” Dad covered his ears. I slid into the driver’s seat with a grin and he removed his hands. That was a trump card I rarely played but it always worked. “You’re good though. You put it all together.” He nodded at me. 144
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“You were pretty good this case yourself. A lot of people would’ve frozen up in there.” I pointed to the creepy compound. “I grew up around snakes. They don’t bother me—much.” “Well, they bother me!” I started the car and pulled away from the curb.
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Chapter Fourteen “That was exhausting.” Dad rubbed his face. “Want to go back to the club or the hotel?” I asked. He paused and stared at the night sky for a few minutes. “I want to see where you scattered her ashes.” I took the next turn toward the swamp. Men were odd, especially my dad. He’d avoided all talk of Gran as much as possible and now, after a near-death experience, he wanted to pay his respects. I wasn’t about to argue. Twenty minutes later we were on the edge of a swamp. I parked the car. “She wanted to be a part of nature.” He stared into the night. “I never understood her. What she did and why. I never saw what you see.” “I’d never wish it on anyone. But I am helping people. Gran did too. Why didn’t you ever visit her?” I had to ask. Dad shifted in the bucket seat. “Your grandfather was adamant to cut her out of our lives.” “But you were an adult. Didn’t you miss your mother? As much as you and Mom don’t like what I’m doing—I won’t stop doing it or seeing you. I may just come back to Chicago on the holidays.” “At first I was sure she’d be mad at me. I was a kid but I left. Kids blame themselves. Never called or sent her a Mother’s Day card. I thought about it though. Guilt. Then I got married and we had you right away.” “Mom didn’t like the idea of ghosts?” Made sense. To Dad it was part of his childhood. It was all new to Mom. “I didn’t. Noah and Missy—they terrified me as a child. Mom told me they were harmless but I couldn’t see or hear them. And I couldn’t dismiss them as imaginary. I didn’t want you to experience that. Of course then you had her gift. But the boys don’t. Damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t.” “I can see how it’d be terrifying. You could’ve told me and kept it from the boys.” Dad started laughing. “You? As strong-willed and stubborn as you are? De, you were born that way. You’d have hitched a ride down here to see her. My job is to keep you safe. Helping people or not—this life is dangerous. You almost got attacked tonight.” Always a dad. I wasn’t going to tell him I’d almost been killed on my first case. “But I can take care of myself. My gun is legal.”
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“And it jammed. I told you. A revolver. That’s the most reliable piece.” I rolled my eyes. “They’re clunky and heavy. I need to conceal. I have a revolver in my nightstand and a shotgun under the bed.” “I’d hope so. You don’t even lock your doors.” He got out of the car and sat on the hood. “It’s just easier and with the house ghosts it’s hardly necessary.” I joined him. “I’m not criticizing. But the girl who left Chicago could never sleep without all the doors locked in her apartment.” He was right. “My car doors and apartment doors. Somewhere along the line here I learned to trust my surroundings. My instincts and openness about the gift—it’s all there. I’m not perfect, of course. I should’ve known Muriel wouldn’t put herself front and center and have done the dirty work herself. She’s not that stupid.” “Think she put her sister up to it?” he asked. I lifted a shoulder. “Maybe but the sister won’t rat her out. Blood is thicker than jail. I think that’s what messed up my reading them. They’re so close, so devoted. The goals were so intertwined that one flowed to the other. Muriel’s personality is so blunt I took her for the violent one.” “It’s the quiet ones.” He shot me a sideways smirk. “I wasn’t really quiet. I hid in my room because the ghosts listened to me and believed me.” “Sorry I didn’t handle it well. You scared us.” “I know. I scared myself. It’s better now. It’s better here. Gran left a lot of work behind.” “Promise me you won’t do any of those infomercials or get a hotline. Fame is not good. You don’t need the money. Just help people.” “I promise—no tacky advertising. All I want is to help those who need it. However, this case proves that you can’t control others. The press or the competition.” I wasn’t done with Lara and Muriel. The second floor of the home showed how much money the cult was pulling in. The world needed to know—at least New Orleans did. “You always win. Stubborn. One PhD wasn’t even enough.” “Most parents like it when their kids are smart. And Gran comes around to help me. She and Grandpa are back together on the Other Side. We’re all okay. And I’ve got plenty of people down here looking out for me.” “Now you’ve made me jealous. I never wanted that gift but for one day to see my mother again. Apologize and say goodbye.” His jaw tightened. For once my dad and I were both adults—on equal footing. And I saw the raw side of him. “She knows. She’ll visit and watch over you so you have to behave.” Gran appeared in front of him. I smiled at her. “Hi, Gran.” Dad looked at me. “She shows up when you ask?”
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“Sometimes. But she’s busy on the Other Side. I try not to impose. This is about you.” “You’re never an imposition. You both did very well.” Gran moved close to her son—focused on him completely. “She says we did a good job. She’s right in front of you.” I didn’t want to get in the way but Dad needed to know. His eyes searched and strained for even a shadow. “I’m sorry for all of it.” “No need.” Gran leaned in and wrapped into her son. Passing through him slowly. Dad gasped as Gran passed through him and disappeared. He shook off the tension but his skin was covered with goose bumps. “What the—? What was that?” “That was Gran. Can’t really touch ghosts on this side but it was sort of a hug. She said you don’t have to be sorry. She understands it all now. Feel okay?” I asked. He shivered. “Weird.” “Maybe you’ve got a touch of the gift after all.” I grinned. “I don’t think so but I’m glad she understands. We should go back to the club. Your mother will be worried.” Dad went back and got into the car. “She hasn’t called my cell once.” I held up the phone. “She’s learning to let go a bit.” “First kid is always the hardest. Boys are supposed to be easier anyway,” he teased me. “I’m sure they’ve all gone home by now.” Dad checked his watch as I drove. “The last time your mother and I were out until three in the morning was when Eddie was born.” I pulled in front of the club and the valet was still there. “I remember. Grandpa had to come and babysit in the middle of the night. Talk about scary.” “I couldn’t leave you alone.” “I had the ghosts with me. Alone has never been an issue.” I cut the engine, got out and handed over the keys. “There are still people here.” “Please, your mother probably drank you out of Baileys shots and took a cab home.” He followed me to the door. I opened the door to blaring disco music. Mom and the boys were trying to do the hustle, led by Ivy. Mom was very close to having it down but the boys were too young to have a clue. Hell, I was too young for that dance! “How about a song made after I was born?” I shouted. The music stopped and I was rushed and smothered by Ivy and a feather boa. Then my mother added to the hard hug. “I’m fine.” I got free and breathed. “Dad helped.”
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Mom was a bit tipsy and hugged him hard. Then she kissed him. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen my parents kiss—this was the first time it’d involved tongue. The boys looked away and I joined them. Instead I headed for the bar. “Rum and diet pop please.” Tony poured the drink. “You got her?” I smiled. “I got her. To Nemo.” I lifted my glass. As Tony got misty, I fished past my gun to my cell phone. I dialed Charlie’s number but didn’t expect an answer. “Hello?” Charlie sounded asleep. “Sorry to wake you, Charlie. But the police arrested Nemo’s killer tonight. I thought you’d want to know we got her.” “Muriel?” he asked. “Muriel’s sister, Agnes. Can you believe it? We’ve got her on another charge too. Kidnapping or infant endangerment with a venomous snake. She’s not up for bail.” “That’s great. Thanks. Good night, De.” He didn’t sound as thrilled as I expected. “Night.” I closed my phone. “What did you expect? Nemo’s still dead.” Ivy rested her chin on my shoulder. “I know but this one was tricky. What was Nemo’s favorite drink?” We’d celebrate either way. “Frozen strawberry margaritas with Patron tequila.” Tony grabbed a new bottle off the shelf. I remembered that bottle. Glass from a bottle just like it had been what slashed Nemo’s face. “Tony, a pitcher of the Nemo’s margaritas!” I hopped off the stool. “Put the music back on—we’re celebrating!” More modern dance music pounded from the speakers and the boys went goofy again while Ivy danced in her own little world. Mom and Dad did a funky Cajun twostep and I watched the crowd. The door opened and John walked in. He strolled over to the bar and stood next to me. “You okay?” “Better than I have been in a long time.” I sighed. “What broke the case loose?” he asked. “Not sure exactly. My mom and I had worked through some stuff. You and everyone believed in me and not Muriel. Sounds crazy but anxiety and self-doubt aren’t a plus in this business.” “And your dad showed up.” “After I got the vision but yes. Plus I got rid of some inner demons this week. My family doesn’t think I’m crazy and I don’t resent them anymore.” “It’s fun when you see your parents as flawed, isn’t it? Ruins the awe.” 149
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“I’ve seen that in them since I was in high school. It’s different now. They’re human. The flaws and mistakes. Why they chose to do what they did. What we take as a personal jab, they were doing the best they could with what they had. I guess I understand it now.” “Little late for such a credentialed shrink to get that revelation, isn’t it?” “I was okay until last year. Learning about Gran and how they’d lied to me and hid it all—that set us back a lot and shook me up.” “But time fixed it. Maybe they can stay?” John winked at me. “Do you ever want to be alone with me? Dad doesn’t get easier on my boyfriends, only harder. I promise.” I finished off my rum and diet pop as Tony brought around the margaritas. Everyone took a glass and kept dancing. John and I moved out to the dance floor. I looked around at all the fun and relief. At that moment, Nemo’s spirit decided to show up a few feet away—dancing like a maniac. Then Gran and Grandpa showed up doing some slow dance from the Fifties. I laughed at the sight and lifted my glass. “What’s wrong?” John looked where I was looking and of course saw nothing. “My family is so weird.” “Spoken by the weirdest of us all.” Frank spun by. “Not true! Gran had way bigger powers than I. And when I get to know these Lotus Circle members better, I’ll know a lot of people like me.” I stuck out my tongue at my little brother. “You’re still one in a million.” John glanced over his shoulder at my dad. I had the distinct feeling that we’d be kissing if my dad and drunken brothers weren’t in the room. John wasn’t talking about my powers. “You’ve been very patient after all of this insanity.” I sipped my frozen drink slowly. “You’re worth it. And now that I’ve met your family it all makes a lot more sense.” I danced off my excess adrenaline. Nothing like crazy old women and deadly snakes to get the blood pumping! Tomorrow I’d face Muriel and bring her down. That only made me excited again. “That reporter Lara can do a profile on the crime scene.” “I thought you hated her?” John replied. “Absolutely. But that’s the point. Expose Muriel as a fraud by the very person who was promoting her. Lara will get ratings. She won’t care. I want everyone to see how that family lived in luxury on the second floor. I want all of New Orleans to see who the phony is.” “Consider it done.”
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“I’ll lead the tour and give an interview.” I remembered just how badly I’d scared Lara with my little intervention. “Maybe it’s better if I don’t do that.” “Okay. We’ll let the cops do it.” “Good.” I felt the pinch of my high heels for the first time all night. Maybe the adrenaline had worn off and now I could feel my feet? Either way it pinched so I kicked my shoes under the barstools and took a bigger drink of margarita as I danced barefoot in my new club.
***** By ten the next morning, Dad and I made our way to the police station. Tired yet exhilarated. I spotted Muriel in the holding cell and flashed a smile. Matt met us at the desk. “Mr. Oscar, Officer Bushell will take your statement, that way.” He waved at a younger officer. Dad went off in one direction and I stepped around the desk. “You give me the quick version of last night.” Matt strolled back to the coffeepots. I tagged behind a few paces. “I got a vision of Joan in trouble and went to Muriel’s house. Dad came along. I realized Agnes was obsessed with cleansing souls and she’d killed Nemo to get attention for her sister’s cult. She used her sister’s little power as a way to get publicity. I killed one snake. We saved Joan.” “Muriel is claiming she’s psychic and she knew nothing about her sister’s involvement.” Matt dumped sugar in his mug. “Thought you’d like a crack at her.” “Try to stop me.” I grinned. “Be cool.” He waggled a spoon at me. “Always.” Matt headed into the little room and I followed. They’d moved Muriel in already and we sat across from her. “Thank you so much!” Muriel stood and a uniformed officer pushed her into her seat. That was a new reaction to getting someone arrested. I’d never been thanked for jailing people before. I leveled a look at her that showed no sympathy or help. “You saved my daughter and my granddaughter.” Muriel’s shackled wrists were on the table folded. “Fat lot of help you were. Why didn’t you stop if you’re so psychic?” With her I wasn’t about to play nice cop. “I didn’t know. My sister and I are very close but she gets in the spirit and I can’t read her. She’s so unpredictable.” “So you didn’t approve of Agnes’ ‘testing’ your family?” Matt asked. “No, I’d never hurt my family.”
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“But they were doing your test. The snake test to see if someone is evil, a nonbeliever or pure?” “I would never endanger anyone.” What a liar! I held my tongue. “What if I told you that we have a follower of yours who has already given a statement that he lost his arm to your test?” Matt held up a bunch of paper. Way to go, Dan! He’d gotten very clear on things in the ambulance. “We asked nonbelievers to leave. They voluntarily submitted to the test if they didn’t want to leave. Agnes did the test. A baby can’t choose.” “You didn’t know what she had planned?” I asked. “No. My daughter is worth more to me than the whole world.” “Then why did she come to me? She was afraid of you.” I leaned back. Muriel shook her head. “She wouldn’t dare.” “Oh, she did. And any lies you’re going to tell us, you might as well stop. Joan will give a statement too.” “We’ve got police at the hospital now.” Matt nodded. “It was a touchy delivery but she’s fine now.” “Thank God.” Muriel rested her head on the table. “Why did you do it? Why did you let Agnes kill Nemo? Publicity? Hate? You faked skills and lied to people. You used people!” I hated fakes. They made all psychics look suspect. “I didn’t! I didn’t know. She lied to me. Agnes said she’d had a vision of his death. The whole psychic thing was her idea too. Get publicity. I do have powers. I was doing the interview with Lara when Agnes called me. It’s all on Lara’s tape.” Unfortunately that was reading as a true statement. “But you had represented yourself to Lara and the world as a psychic. Telekinesis an impressive power but isn’t psychic. Your cult approves of lying?” “It was for the greater good.” Muriel stared at her folded hands. “Maybe we should take her down and have her tested. Deanna took a test and proved herself a psychic. You interested?” Matt asked. Muriel went pale and shook her head. “You’re not psychic at all, are you?” I wanted to hear her admit it. “No, I’m not psychic. I had this power—moving stuff with my mind. Agnes said it was a gift from God. A sign we could be special and make a difference.” “But moving stuff with your mind doesn’t get you followers willing to give up their money and devote themselves to you. It gets you a show in Vegas.” Matt chuckled. “So you used your telekinesis to pretend you were psychic and take money from people. Get publicity. What the hell is the truth about the truth-seekers?”
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“My sister believes. I believe. We made our own religion for the pure. Katrina was meant to cleanse and we’d finish the job.” Her eyes became fixed. “And the luxury on the second floor?” Matt spread out pictures of the crime scene. “Your sister confessed. We’ll clear the crime scene of evidence and let the reporters in to show the truth.” “We were going to share it with the pure members. First we had to weed out the others. But we needed more money to expand for our growth. We’d only begun and you ruined it.” Muriel glared at me. “So you don’t feel any remorse or guilt over Nemo Mandes’ death?” Matt asked. Muriel shook her head. “My sister is true. If she believed he deserved it, he did.” “Why a snake?” I asked. “Seriously don’t say Adam and Eve.” “They survived. Snakes made it through the storm and were the only living things in the house with me. But I was never bit, not once.” “Is that how you met the Snake Lady?” I asked. Muriel’s eyes darted to the table. “Who?” “Your sister said you were with the Snake Lady getting bee sting treatments for your back last night. Was she lying?” I leaned in, trying to see if she would admit it. “No. Right. I was there. She never did anything wrong though. She helped me learn about snakes so I could handle them. And she helped my back immensely.” “I know. But you were spiking your daughter’s drinks with snake venom.” I’d seen it when traveling to Muriel’s. The odd-tasting water Joan had complained of. “I would never.” “Joan said you and Agnes both thought her baby was evil or a potential nonbeliever. You had to know Agnes would test the baby.” I wasn’t giving up on that topic. “I exposed Joan but I had no idea that Joan would go into labor that night while I was away. Why would I poison my daughter? I was trying to build up her immunity to the venom.” Muriel buried her face in her hands. “The Snake Lady said that it was safe?” “She said it’s been tried by some. Some say it works. I had to try.” “Building up immunity. Since the baby shared the blood supply with the mother, she’d be immune as well. That’s the idea?” “Yes. It couldn’t hurt to try. Agnes wouldn’t listen when I told her not to test them. She’d have turned on me next.” Muriel ranted. “And instead of getting your daughter to safety or calling the police on your sister, you gave your daughter venom hoping that would solve the problem?” Matt scribbled notes furiously. “I was helping the people. This is bigger than one or two lives. I was changing the world. I had faith it would all work out and it did.” Muriel looked at me. “I understand
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why you accused me of it. Agnes and I are a team. I should’ve guessed but she never went behind my back before.” “Good cover.” I looked at Matt. “Looks like you’ve got a fake.” “A fake with enough charges to hold her.” He smiled. “I never murdered anyone,” Muriel insisted. “No. You failed to prevent a crime. Potentially two crimes. You manipulated people and bilked money from them. You pretended to be a religious leader for profit. I know Matt will make good charges that will stick for you.” “Yes, indeed.” Matt assembled his papers. “And your sister is likely going up on murder one and attempted murder for two counts. I wouldn’t expect to be seeing her anytime soon. If you’d like to make any other statements about what your sister did, it might help.” Matt set blank paper in front of Muriel. “I’m out of here for the dull stuff.” I stood and turned toward the door. “Wait!” Muriel grabbed the paper. “What?” I kept my voice cold and even. “I’m sorry I used you. You helped keep my illusion alive. I knew you were real. I’m sorry I hurt your reputation.” That’s what she was sorry for? I looked the deluded woman square in the eye. “That’s okay. You’re the religious zealot but you’re the one who’ll go to hell.” I walked out before she responded. I stormed out the door so fast I forgot about Dad. Luckily he spotted me and caught up. “You okay?” he asked. “Fine. It’s over. Yours go okay?” I sat in the car and slammed the door. “Better than yours. I think you need a round at the shooting range.” Dad got in the car. “No. I need to see Joan. Make sure it’ll stick and her story didn’t change.” I started the car and drove off in the direction of the hospital.
***** “I shouldn’t be here,” Dad protested as we walked the maternity floor. “You saved her life too. Of course you belong here.” I was waiting for him to break out in hives he looked so uncomfortable. I found the room and knocked. “Come in,” a soft voice replied. I stepped in and saw Joan with an actual smile on her face. We hadn’t spent much time together and during it all she’d been afraid or hysterical. “You look good.” “Thanks to you. It feels like a bad dream after all the medication.”
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“Well, it was real. I hope you’ll tell the police the whole truth.” I sat in a guest chair. “They left fifteen minutes ago. And I’ll testify in court if I have to. Aunt Agnes really went over the edge. I kept hoping they’d calm down and enjoy their following. Realize that it wasn’t the end of the world. Is Mom okay?” I looked to Dad and back. “Muriel is fine. The police are holding her in connection with Agnes’ offenses. I’m sure her sentence won’t be as bad. Agnes earned hers.” Joan nodded. “Was anyone else hurt?” “No. No one was hurt last night. It’s hard to determine how many followers were harmed while in the cult. The police are trying to figure out how many were bit by snakes and so on.” “The doctor from last night?” she asked. “Yes, he lost his arm to one. Hopefully there aren’t a lot like him. But a reporter will tour the home and go through the second floor to see just how your mother and Agnes were living off the followers’ money. I think any cult members remaining loyal will see the truth after that.” “The truth will always come out.” She sat up straighter at the sound of a crying baby approaching. “Lunchtime.” A nurse brought in the pink bundle. Dad and I admired the red fussing creature. “We’ll leave you two alone,” I said as we headed for the door. “Thanks again. Both of you. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t arrived.” Joan cradled the baby. “Just don’t live with your mother anymore. Get some distance between you and crazy.” Joan studied her own little girl. “I’ll try. Family is a hard thing to shake. That’s why I stayed with them. I love them and hoped they’d change. It was a mistake.” Dad gave a half-smile. “Tell me about it.” I walked out into the antiseptic-scented hallway and followed the exit signs. “We’re leaving in another day,” Dad said as we got to the car. “You don’t have to go.” “I know. But it’s time. I need to get back and work on the gun shop. The boys have things to get to and your mom has had enough seafood.” “Ditto.” I started the car and headed for home. “I’m glad you came. I wasn’t sure how it would go.” “Me either. She really comes around you? Visits and checks in?” Dad looked around the open air of the car. “Gran? Sure. A little less since you’ve been around but she checks in. I’m really fine here, Dad.” 155
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“I see that. I just didn’t want your life to be this hard. Killers and cops.” “It wasn’t your choice. Mom says it’s a gift from God so you have it out with the higher power when the time comes. I’m helping people and that’s all I know how to do with it.” “And you’re good at it.” That took me back. It’d never really happened before. I was a good shrink but before me, Dad had never met a shrink. He had met psychics before. “Thanks.” “And come back to Chicago for the holidays. Your mother really wants a full table at Christmas and Thanksgiving.” “I know. I will.” Barring murderers or stubborn ghosts. “And Easter.” “I’ll try but it’s hard to predict these things.” I shrugged. “Don’t give me that can’t predict these things. You’re a psychic, for crying out loud.” He gave me a sly smile. Damn! I knew he’d be using that one a lot from now on.
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Chapter Fifteen The house was once again in complete chaos. My parents and brothers showed up to say their goodbye as they headed to the airport. “I’m sorry I had to work while you were here. I know it’s sort of a weird job.” I hugged my goofy brothers. “Hey, we’ll come back for Mardi Gras!” Eddie teased. “I’ll definitely be working then, you tourist.” I smacked his shoulder. Mom combed her fingers through my hair. “Be careful.” “I will. Have a safe trip.” I wasn’t the only one saying goodbye. Ivy and Greg were making a fuss as well. “You were a priest?” Mom leveled a glare at Greg. “Yes, ma’am. It wasn’t for me.” “My daughter isn’t for you either.” She pointed a warning finger at him. “We’ve already been though that, Mom. Don’t worry.” Mom was black and white on some issues—but it amused me. Greg turned red and said nothing. Yep, I’d shot him down. Now he was doing my married friend. I should trust my instincts more. Then Dad came up to me. “I know, be careful.” “No.” Dad smiled. “Help people. You’ll get good publicity now. Don’t let it go to your head. Keep your friends close. Keep it all in perspective.” “Got it.” I nodded. “We should go. We’re running late.” Dad headed for the rental. I checked my watch. Dad wasn’t late. He’d be an hour early. That was my family. I knew them. They finally accepted me “as is” and somewhere along the line I’d learned to do the same. I waved as they drove away. “You okay?” Ivy asked. “Yeah. They definitely were affecting my powers and work. It’s good. They’re okay with me and this life now. I just can’t live that close to them or I’d always be more worried about them than my work.” I turned back to my house and went in. “Girls’ night tonight?” “Absolutely! I’ll fire up the blender for margaritas a la Nemo.” Ivy headed for the kitchen.
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Greg came up to me before I could help with the bartending. “I found an apartment and I’m moving out. Some today, for sure by tomorrow. I don’t know what will happen with Mary Lou and me. It’s complicated.” “Some stuff is complicated. Some stuff isn’t. That’s your call. Make sure you’re in it for Mary Lou and not trying to save her from a bad marriage or whatever.” I still got the savior vibe from him. Some men needed to be needed. “She’s an amazing woman but I want to help her too.” “Would you want her without the drama? Without the challenges? With just her?” I prodded. He looked over my head. “Now you’re head-shrinking me, De.” “Hard habit to break. Sometimes people need a reality check. You’re no different. I know you’re looking for something, Greg—don’t lose yourself in the process.” “I’ve changed directions in my life before.” “Nothing wrong with that. I did that when I moved here. Doesn’t change who I am deep down. I wouldn’t want it to. If you’re looking to change, the external stuff won’t cut it. And if you’re just looking for a girl then don’t put your friends in the middle of a sticky affair. Keep it in your own house.” “Don’t worry, I’m packing right now.” Greg headed up the stairs. I knew the ex-priest in him wanted to give advice, not get it. But no one was perfect. I walked into the kitchen where Ivy was already blending. “You okay?” I asked. “Fabu. Murder solved. Evil woman in jail. You’ll be more you again with the fam back in the Windy City. I’m going to take over Charlie’s apartment when he moves out and I’ve got an awesome new job.” Ivy flashed a big smile. “You don’t have to move out. Greg’s in a more complicated situation and I don’t want to lose friends because he’s playing with fire. But I really don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing you.” “I know. I want my own place and it works out because Charlie has a lease. I can take it over. I’m used to my own place. Lovely and pampering as a mansion is, it’s your territory. And as far as my dumb cousin, trust me, I know. He gets off on saving people. Before it was their souls and now it’s women in general. He’ll get his heart broken but he has to learn the hard way.” Ivy rolled her eyes. I had an idea. “Do you mind if I invite Mary Lou to girls’ night?” Ivy lifted a perfectly drawn brow. “She’s a bit stuffy.” “Stuffy? She’s cheating on her rich hubby with an ex-priest. She’s a soap opera. Let’s get her drunk and hear her side of things.” “Now you’re talking!” Ivy added more tequila. The doorbell rang and I wanted to ignore it. Not that I didn’t want to see who it was, but because I’d had enough drama for one day. But I went to the door and opened it.
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Instantly I was smothered by a hug from Charlie and Tony hung back and waved. “Hi, Charlie,” I said. “I’m sorry I was so weird on the phone. It had to let it all sink in that it’s finally over.” He let go and walked inside. Tony walked in too. I closed the door. “I know. It’s a shock to lose someone and a shock to find out who did it. And why. Crazy and unfair.” “I’m going to go see Ivy.” Charlie wandered toward the back of the house. Tony leaned in. “I know what you said in the ER, but he needs me. I have to go with him. The killer is caught so it’s okay, right?” “If you’re okay with it, it’s fine. I’m glad you could be one of the bartenders at the reopening. The regulars love you. You’ll be hard to replace. How’s the hand?” Life was for the living. Charlie and Tony had to make their way now without Nemo. He lifted his hand, still wrapped. “Better. Should have full use of it in a few weeks. It’ll be really stiff though.” “Then who needs you for a bartender.” I winked. “You’re fired. Go make dresses or something.” “Thanks.” He gave me a hug. “We’d better find Charlie.” I followed the giggles to the kitchen. Ivy and Charlie were giddy. Drinking margaritas as Ivy told Charlie about the opening night. “You can move in tonight,” Charlie finally said. Ivy’s face changed to sad. “So soon? You don’t have to go.” “We do.” Charlie hugged her. “I’ll be back to catch the show and visit.” “You’d better. Ivy’s in charge so it’ll be the talk of New Orleans.” I was so relieved Ivy was running the club I wanted to tell everyone. “Tony told me. Thanks to Ivy, I’ll have no worries.” Charlie let Ivy go. “I’ll miss you guys. And the city.” “We better go.” Tony tugged Charlie toward the door. “Bye!” Ivy and I called from the porch as the cab pulled away with Tony and Charlie waving to us from the backseat. Ivy’s shoulders sagged. “Everyone is leaving.” I followed her into the house. “I know. But we’ll get back to normal now. My family was never permanent. Plus you’ve got a club to run. If anything, you’ll be busier than ever.” “True. We’ll have to make it an early girls’ night in. I’ve got another show tonight.” Ivy loaded up the blender again. “Can I ask you something?” I’d felt guilty about Ivy doing so much work on the club.
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“Sure.” “How do you feel about being partners?” “What do you mean?” “In the club. You’ve done all the work. I want you to have half.” She dropped the strawberries on the floor and walked toward me. “Are you crazy?” “No, it’s not a big deal. I just would feel better if you were an owner.” “I can’t afford to buy in for half.” Ivy held up her hands. “I’m not selling. I’m giving you half.” “No way. I pay for what I get. Hurricane or hell freezing over, I’m no charity case!” I figured her pride would get in the way. “You’re doing all the work.” “And you’re paying me a huge salary, De. Really I’m not into charity.” “It’s not charity. You have a real interest in this place succeeding. If you won’t take half now, what about a percentage for each year you work there? Sort of a bonus?” Ivy picked up strawberries and tossed them in the garbage. She shuffled around the kitchen, thinking it over. “If you’re sure.” “Come on. Owning something this big is a lot of pressure!” “Well, if it’s a bonus, okay. Now let’s celebrate.” She fired up the blender. “I’ll call Mary Lou and order in some Chinese food.” All of us needed a little dose of fun.
***** A couple hours later we were feasting on Mongolian beef, orange chicken, steamed rice and huge egg rolls. Mary Lou dunked her egg roll in duck sauce. “This is fun.” “You’re not helping Greg move?” I asked. Ivy threw me a curious look. “Manual labor isn’t for me. And that’s complicated.” Mary Lou downed more margarita. She and Greg were both confused and using the “complicated” excuse. I hated excuses but they had to work things through themselves. I’d made a few excuses in my life when I wasn’t ready to face things. Those two, however, were playing with fire. “Say something, De.” Mary Lou poured herself more alcohol. “What?” I popped a piece of orange chicken in my mouth. “You won’t like anything I have to say? So why bother?” Ivy looked at Mary Lou. “You hurt my cousin and you’ll answer to me.” I tried not to laugh. It was true—Ivy took everything personally. But I wanted to keep Mary Lou and Greg as my friends. None of us were perfect. “They’ll work it out, Ivy. Greg is an adult.” I didn’t want girls’ night to turn ugly.
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“What do I do?” Mary Lou started in on her refilled drink. “I’m going to work.” Ivy headed upstairs to get ready. “She’s pissed.” Mary Lou drank more. “It’s her family. You’re married. If you were single and free to date Greg it’d be fine. You’re not. You go near one of my brothers and I’d be worse than Ivy. The problem won’t go away.” “I don’t know how to stop it.” “You don’t want to. It’s feeding something in you that’s missing. Two men won’t fix it. Ten won’t fix it. You want something else in your life. Only you know what it is.” I’d been going slow on the alcohol but now slurped a mouthful of Nemo’s margaritas. “I don’t want therapy. Just be my friend.” “This isn’t therapy. You want a shrink then go hire one. I’m just saying don’t use Greg as a crutch and expect his friends and family to do backflips for you. Men are no different than tequila or smoking or shopping. It’ll numb you and you’ll stay where you are. It’s all self-medicating.” I shoveled a forkful of rice in my mouth. “I’m not a clichéd ‘desperate housewife’.” “You’re human. We’re really not that complicated. If something is bothering you then you need to figure it out. Deal with the real problem or you’ll just create more.” I closed up the Chinese containers so I didn’t knock anything over. Mary Lou looked around. “Something is different.” “What?” I was still waiting on my stuff from storage. They promised it was on its way. Katrina had delayed my stuff and it’d been stored somewhere. They’d finally found it. “I’ve been in this house for over an hour and not one ghost has been in here.” I laughed. “Oh that. Missy is going through the whole house cleaning it now that my family is gone and Greg is moving out. She wants the house back.” Mary Lou swirled her straw in her glass. “You’re not mad that I invited your family, are you?” “I was at first. Preparation is important when facing the family. But I had to do it sometime. It worked out.” “They aren’t mean or negative.” Mary Lou finished off her margaritas completely. “Not really Garden District though.” “Neither am I. Promise me, next year—no big birthday ball. I’d be happy with my friends and Chinese food. Maybe a cake of fortune cookies?” Mary Lou frowned. “Okay, chocolate cake. But casual. Jeans and T-shirts. Nemo’s margaritas.” I really hated the fuss being about me. “That’s so dull.” Mary Lou pouted.
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“It’s normal. Average. Regular people don’t have time to plan balls and can’t afford them either.” “But you can. You could give one here. Or at the club! Oh! Ivy and I could plan it. It’d be so gorgeous.” Mary Lou’s eyes lit up. “No. No way. Forget it. No ball here or at the club. I like my stuff but I can’t risk a party in the house.” “Risk? What risk?” “Haunted objects under the staircase and bad ghosts in the attic equals very dangerous. One person opens the wrong door and I’ve got all hell loose in my house. No. And the club isn’t about me. No fancy crap, okay?” “Fine. Spoilsport.” Mary Lou pouted. “Maybe The Lotus Circle is more casual.” I collected the trash since Missy was on her cleaning mission upstairs. “The who circle?” Mary Lou put her feet up on the coffee table. “Lotus. It’s a psychic, metaphysical group. Online mostly but I found a few members here in New Orleans.” “You need an internet connection.” Mary Lou nodded. “I know, I need to get that set up—but with everything going on I keep forgetting. But I like the idea of actually knowing other psychics. Someone who gets this.” I pointed to my temple. “So long as she’s not rich. You’re a snob!” Mary Lou crossed her arms. “I’m a snob? You married a man you don’t really love for his name and money. That’s a snob. I don’t discriminate based on money or social standing. You married it, the Weathers have it by birth while Ivy and Greg have zero. I’ll have time for all of my friends and my job. You have no idea what it’d be like to know another psychic. Who sees what I see.” “It’s your life but don’t blame me for entertaining myself with Greg or parties. I don’t have a job or a calling or whatever your gift is.” “Maybe that’s your problem?” I sat on the sofa next to her. “Maybe you need a job.” “What? Anything I’m qualified for, my mother-in-law would freak out at. And I’m used to making my own hours. I’d never last with a boss.” “Volunteer work then. You could make your own schedule. Pick a charity you care about. Or start your own charity function with balls and things. That’d fit you perfect.” Mary Lou shrugged rather than get excited as I expected. “If I lose interest in the charity or get tired of it, then Lance and my mother-in-law will never let me hear the end of it. Lance says I never finished anything longer than a party.” “Prove him wrong.” “He’s not wrong. I don’t know what I want and it’s easier not to try. That way no failure.”
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“Except for Greg, which is predestined to fail so you both know how it’ll end. That’s easy?” I shook my head. “You were a Miss Teen Louisiana!” Mary Lou’s face glowed. “Yes.” “That was a lot of work, right?” “Yes, but I loved it. The pageant scene was all about survival. Without the prize money, I’d never have been a deb and marry well. I had a poor childhood, De. I never want that again.” “No one wants to be poor. Maybe you need to get into something where you can use your skills. If the Weathers money disappears or you get a divorce, you’d have to make your own income.” “That’s just working poor. Mom wanted me to be spoiled in luxury. This is my life.” Mary Lou admired her huge diamond ring. “That’s one way of looking at it. I’d trade all of this for having Gran around while I was growing up. Or having her alive now.” I took the leftovers to the kitchen. Tonight I needed to go visit Gran.
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Chapter Sixteen With a bit of alcohol still in my system, I went to bed and projected myself to the Other Side. Unlike the other times, I went straight to Gran’s house. I had improved already. “Hello, dear. How are you?” Gran sat doing needlepoint in front of a fire. I sat in a comfy chair across from her. “Fine. Odd case.” “Odd indeed. But humans are usual creatures in what they’ll get obsessed over. You did well.” “Thanks. I missed you being around though. You didn’t visit as much with the parents in town.” “I have things to do over here, dear. You’re handling things just fine. Parents or not. I know it’s hard to step into cases and the house that was set up for me. You’ll make it your own. And see, your father did come around.” I felt guilty. “True. Should I go? I don’t mean to interrupt.” “No. I want you to visit, but you can’t spend your life on this side. The same way I can’t spend my afterlife on your side. That’s why I want you to get to know The Lotus Circle more. They can help you on your side. They’ll understand and be tangible.” “Point taken. Penny left me a message about the first monthly meeting at The Third Eye. I’ve got to get this place set up for internet so I have time to thoroughly research their site. Okay?” “It’s a start.” “How’s Nemo?” Gran looked up from her sewing and smiled. “Nemo is doing well. Busy getting settled here, of course. He likes your club situation.” “Great. And Cel? Is she better now that Dan is out of the cult?” “Much better. On this side we don’t worry so much because we know it’ll all work out the way it’s meant to. But she was disappointed at his choice. Dan had to do it the hard way. It’s his path.” “Glad that’s over.” “It’s never over, Deanna.” Gran smiled wistfully. “That I know. But now I’ve got my reputation back. Muriel is exposed as a fake and a thief.” “You know better than to care about what others think. You have to make your own reputation, no one can take it away from you.”
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“I know. It’s not me it’s you. You left me some huge shoes to try to fill. I’ll never be that good.” Gran was a legend in New Orleans and I was the apparent heiress to her work. Unfortunately my skill level wasn’t on par with hers…yet. “You will be. It takes time and practice. The Lotus Circle can help you there as well.” “Got it. Lotus Circle. I’m going. I swear on my mother’s Claddagh ring. I’m also joining a gym. All those corn muffins are going to my thighs.” “I wasn’t going to say anything.” Gran grinned. “I have to make the house mine.” I nodded. “The whole thing has to be my life.” “Beyond time,” she agreed. “Katrina didn’t help matters.” Like I’d been dragging my feet on purpose. “I know. Another test of your skills you’re overlooking. It’s done now. And the murder investigation is behind you. Now you’re hiding here.” “I’m not hiding. I’m visiting.” I sensed she had plans to get to. But she was also on to something with me I hadn’t realized. I’d gotten used to the people. She shot me a stern look. “You finally got your house to yourself and the case is over and you’re here. Don’t lie to me. You’re stalling.” “Okay. I’ll go. Have fun wherever you and Grandpa are going on your trip.” She smiled. “We will. You’re very talented. And we’ll see you when we return.” I went back to my side of things. Back to my own body and slept. There were no murders in my mind. No fears or worries about parents judging or bursting in on me.
***** “Wake up, wake up, wake up!” Mary Lou called as she burst into my bedroom. Yep, I’d never be lonely even if I was the only person living in my big mansion. Before I opened my eyes, I did a little psychic sweep. No one was dead. No major crises to speak of on the radar. I opened one eye. “What? What could be so important?” I sat up slowly. Mary Lou grabbed the remote control off the nightstand and turned on my flatpanel television on the tall dresser. “It’s nine in the morning and they’re going through Muriel’s home on the local news.” For that I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. It was that reporter, Lara. “The furnishings on the second floor clearly show that the money taken from the devoted followers of the Truth Seekers cult was not used for the poor of New Orleans as claimed by their leader, Muriel Jennings. Instead it went to ensure the comfort of the leaders.” The camera took the viewer through all of the bedrooms and Joan’s was the third. “This was the scene of the crime that brought the leaders to justice. Authorities found a pregnant woman in labor being held hostage with poisonous snakes. The use of snakes as a test is not new
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to some fringe religious sects. At least ten of the Truth Seekers members were found to have been injured from snakebites.” A shot of the garage filled with snakes took over the screen. “Animal Control authorities rescued dozens of snakes stored here. While not mistreated by the owner, they are evidence of the mistreatment of humans. The property owners are in prison and the snakes will be found new homes.” Then it was Matt on the television. “Muriel Jennings has admitted to being a fraud. She’s not a psychic. The whole act was for publicity of their cult. Muriel’s sister Agnes has confessed to the murder of Nemo Mandes. This also was for the publicity of the cult. Agnes was found two nights ago holding her own niece, Joan Jennings, hostage with venomous snakes.” Lara’s questions came from off-camera. “How did you find the plot in time to save the woman in labor?” “Deanna Oscar had a vision of the crime and raced to the scene in time. Her father called for police and an ambulance. We responded promptly and everyone made it out safe.” “So the NOPD believes Deanna Oscar is the real thing?” Lara asked. “Two cases solved plus her help in the storm. She took a test at Tulane if you don’t believe me. It verifies her skills are way beyond the odds of chance. Mrs. Jennings’ attempts to undermine Dr. Oscar’s credibility drew attention away from scrutinizing Jennings’ efforts. All cult members have been offered counseling and reunited with family members.” As Lara talked out in some sort of reporter wrap-up, my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and didn’t recognize the name. “Who is it?” Mary Lou asked. “No idea. I’ll let it go to voicemail.” Then my cell phone rang. I grabbed it off the nightstand. This one I’d answer. “Hi, John.” “Did you see it?” he asked. “Yeah, Mary Lou raced in here and turned it on. Looks like the truth came out. Everything good on your end?” “Normal day in court. How about dinner to celebrate? No fast food or seafood. I’m thinking the best steak in town.” “Sounds perfect. Pick me up at seven.” My phone rang again. “Should I make reservations for all of the Oscars?” he asked. “No. They all went home. Ivy and Greg have moved out and other than your sisterin-law’s need to burst in unannounced, I’m all alone.” “You need to lock your doors.” He laughed. “I need a reason to bother locking them.” I closed my phone. My home phone rang again and I turned down the ringer. “You’re psychic. You knew I was in the house.” Mary Lou sat on the edge of the bed.
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“Actually when I’m asleep, I only pay attention to strangers in the house. You, Ivy, Greg, John or my family never set off the warning bells. Plus Missy keeps an eye on things. I’ve got to sleep sometime.” I pushed back the covers and stretched. “If you ever have a sleepover with a man you can lock your doors and I’ll know.” Mary Lou winked at me. “If. Thanks.” Glad to know I was big on the social scene of New Orleans. “Of course you will have guys over. John really likes you. You need to get out more.” “We have a date tonight. Barring murderers, hauntings or other major issues—we might actually have fun without ghosts for once.” The soft ring of the home phone started again. “What the hell is with the phone? Are my lines haunted now?” “I’ll get it.” Mary Lou grabbed the landline receiver. “Oscar residence.” I waited while Mary Lou got the scoop. “I’m sorry, Dr. Oscar is unavailable at the moment. I’ll give her the message.” Mary Lou grabbed a pen and pad off my nightstand. “Thank you.” I mouthed to her as I walked to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. The mirror scared me. A little spray-in conditioner and a comb tamed my mane and I clipped it all back. Then I dabbed concealer under my eyes and returned to the bed. Mary Lou was still on the phone. She covered the mouthpiece. “A different call,” she said. “Why?” I mouthed. She held up her index finger. “Okay, I’ll tell her. Goodbye.” Mary Lou hung up. The phone started ringing again. “What the hell?” “You’re a hit.” Mary Lou turned the ringer all the way down. “I’m not a Broadway show.” I took the pad of paper with names, numbers and a column for requests. “Wants a reading. His son is missing. What is all of this?” “Cases. Okay, some are requests for readings alone but all that publicity got your name out there. Free advertising. You’re hot! You need a second line.” Mary Lou handed me the pen. “It’ll calm down. It’s the coverage this morning. Tomorrow it’ll be behind me. I’ll go through the messages later. Pick out the real cases.” “And the plans for today are?” Mary Lou asked. “Nothing. Today is a nothing day. I need to find a good gym and get some stress worked out. Then dinner with John. Maybe get that second line ordered with the phone company.” It was nice to able to plan a quiet day. “Perfect. We can sign up at the gym and go shopping for exercise clothes.” Mary Lou loved to shop more than gossip—almost. “It’s not a Greg day?” I teased.
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Mary Lou rolled her eyes. “Lance is home for the week. His mom’s birthday is this weekend. Another big party you’ll have to go to.” “Can I wear the dress Tony made?” I asked. “We could go shopping for another dress.” Mary Lou perked up. “No. Only John and you have seen me in this one and it’s really great. Besides I didn’t really get to wear it to a party so much as a crime scene.” “Fine. But it can’t hurt to look since we’ll be shopping anyway. You’ll always need another gown. Come on, you need some fun. And shopping is walking. Think of all the carrying. It’s exercise.” Mary Lou was pushing a hard-sell on the shopping day. “Okay, shopping today. Tomorrow I’m busy all day.” “What’s tomorrow?” “I have The Lotus Circle meeting. Gotta network. Lots to learn. Lots of people to meet and hopefully there will be another psychic. I’ve got to fit big doses in between cases to I can get to know them.” “The cases are your job. It was Elinor’s job too.” Mary Lou stood up and headed for the door. “But not today! Today is fun-only day. You get dressed and we’ll get going.”
***** The next day I walked into The Third Eye for the first time without a major preoccupation in my head. The feeling was very different. I zeroed in on the vibe of openness. “I’m glad you came.” Penny stood behind the counter organizing flyers. “I said I would. Case is over.” I was decked out in new blue jeans with that weathered dirty look and a long-sleeve V-neck T-shirt in marbleized pinks and purples. Mary Lou said it screamed mystical. I really did have an eclectic group of friends. “I saw the story on the news. You’ve never had bad publicity, have you?” “I think what Muriel did before was pretty bad. Luckily I was vindicated. And if you count my family, they were opposed to my skills for like twenty years of my life. So that was zero publicity. I’m lucky because my grandmother was so well-respected. It sort of rubs off a bit. Is The Lotus Circle low-profile?” “Come on, we’re in the back.” Penny led the way and three other women were seated in the large back room. One I recognized as Dr. Martinez from Tulane. “Hi, everyone.” I sat in an open chair. “A new member and a celebrity.” Dr. Martinez smiled. I laughed lightly. “It’ll die down. Just temporary. I’m still wading through phone calls.” “Don’t downplay it. They admitted on television that they used you. That you solved the case for them. That is a huge step forward. Police accepting it. The more it
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happens then the more people understand. This is wonderful.” Dr. Martinez seemed to share in the joy. “Deanna asked earlier if The Lotus Circle is low-profile,” Penny said. “You’ve got a lot of history to wade through. We were forced into the shadows centuries back.” Dr. Martinez leaned back in her chair. “You’re heard of the Salem witch trials? The Inquisition? That’ll send anyone into hiding.” Penny nodded. “There’s a lot of articles on the website. Our whole history, now that you might have a chance to sit down and read it.” Dr. Martinez got up and got a glass of water from a refreshments table in the back. “And a part-time teaching job at Tulane wouldn’t hurt if you wanted a routine.” On the spot again, I didn’t know how to answer. “I’m not sure routine goes with the rest of my life. My grandmother left a big hole I’m trying to fill.” Penny grabbed my hand. “Powerful ring.” “I think it’s pretty. It’s from my mom’s side. One hundred percent Irish.” I took my hand back. “Irish and Cajun? Quite a mix!” Dr. Martinez laughed. “Deanna, I want you to meet Chloe Kenneth. Another medium.” I shook her hand and felt her power. It was real. No one here was a fake. Dr. Martinez introduced the rest of the group. I smiled and realized exactly what was annoying me so far. It was all about me. Granted I was the new member here but I wanted to know about others and their gifts. “What about everyone else? I’m sort of known, thanks to my grandmother. I’ve spent my whole life thinking I was the only one who saw ghosts and the future. What are your gifts?”
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About the Author A lover of unusual things, Cheryl Dragon enjoys writing unique stories of sinfully hot romance, pure erotica or paranormals with a psychic twist. Never at a loss for ideas, there are plenty of stories yet to be written. Her two favorite settings are Las Vegas and New Orleans—where anything can happen. Cheryl lives in the Chicagoland area with her deaf albino cat. By day she analyzes numbers as an Assistant Controller for a division of a large international company, which leaves her creative side free for writing. Cheryl welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.thelotuscircle.com. Also check out Cheryl’s erotic romances at www.ellorascave.com.
Also by Cheryl Dragon I’m Okay, You’re Dead
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