CHAPTER 3

  Vance Quimby emerged from Aurelia’s cold reading room about ten minutes later with a look of astonishment frozen on his face. He barely seemed able to blink. Aurelia followed close behind with an expression of supreme satisfaction, and it was she who spoke up first.

  “I’m quite pleased to announce that Mr. Quimby has told me he wants to share his reading with the rest of you, haven’t you?” She made a delicate, sweeping gesture as if blessing the entire room.

  Vance turned and shot her a brief glance, then approached the others. “I did say I wanted to do that. It’s just too incredible not to share. Mainly because I just can’t believe she knew what she knew. I simply wasn’t prepared to hear what I heard because I’ll be the first to admit that I really didn’t think I would be taking anything seriously. I intended to play the role of the amused skeptic all the way.”

  “Then by all means, share it with us,” Charlotte said, beckoning him with her hands. “I’ve already told the others that I would wait for your reaction before I bought into any of this.”

  Vance took his seat at the table again and began as everyone gave him their undivided attention. Wendy noted with a slight sense of envy that none of them had been quite that focused throughout the bridge lesson. “Aurelia took my hand, and after a little while, she said that she clearly saw this vision of a service dog of some kind—you know, the type that helps the blind or with other disabilities and—”

  “It was a German shepherd, as I recall,” Aurelia interrupted with a gracious smile.

  Vance nodded and continued. “Yes, it was definitely a German shepherd. Anyway, it was on a leash sniffing around a dark, back alleyway, where the body of a dead female tourist guide was eventually found in a Dumpster.” He turned quickly toward Aurelia as if looking for guidance. “You also said you were certain that I was somehow involved in the entire affair. Of course, I nearly fell out of my chair when you said that. I was speechless.”

  “Wait . . . what?” Charlotte said, her voice somewhat breathless, and there were gasps from some of the others. “What did all that mean? Did you have something to do with the death of a tourist guide here in Rosalie? You don’t mean to tell me that we are in the presence of a murderer?”

  Vance took his time, taking a swig of the bourbon on the rocks he had left behind. “No, certainly not. I’m nothing of the kind. What she said she saw . . . well, it’s remarkable because I can vouch for the fact that it never happened. At least, not that I know of.”

  “I’m totally confused,” Charlotte continued, shrugging her shoulders. “Why are you so impressed with the reading if you’re sure it never happened? Suddenly, I’m not understanding the English you’re speaking. I know you’re a writer, but I just don’t get it.”

  “Well, I’m afraid I don’t, either,” Wendy added, exchanging puzzled looks with the others.

  Milton quickly joined in. “I’ll third that notion.”

  “Just give me another moment,” Vance said, finishing off his drink and letting the bourbon course through his veins a bit, evidently for courage. “What Aurelia said she saw was in reality the germ of the plot I’m busy concocting for the novel I’ll start writing soon. It’s going to be a murder mystery that takes place in the Deep South. I’ve shared nothing of the ideas I’m hatching with anyone so far. So, there it is, folks. How could she possibly know anything about what I haven’t even written yet? It’s all still locked up in my brain, but somehow she found a way to get at it. I have goose bumps just thinking about the whole thing.”

  Aurelia bowed her head slightly, trying for a hint of modesty. “To be honest, that was all I could come up with. I don’t know what happened to the tour guide—if anything really did—or who did it or anything like that.”

  “That’s because I haven’t plotted much further than that. But wasn’t what you did see enough?” Vance said. “Vague generalities were more along the lines of what I was expecting to hear from you. Now I feel like you’ve drilled into my skull and yanked out my brain.”

  “That’s quite a graphic image, but I report only what I see,” Aurelia continued. “Nothing more, nothing less. As I told Wendy when we first discussed my offer to the group, this is not a game with me. I know there are much simpler ways to make a decent living, but it seems I’m stuck with this.”

  “I’d like to go next, if no one minds,” Charlotte said, her voice brimming with excitement. “Except I can tell you right now that I’m not making any shocking things up in my head like Mr. Quimby. My life in recent years has been real enough without anything like that.”

  Aurelia again pointed to the door. “This way, then.”

  * * *

  When Charlotte emerged from her session not too long after, she seemed no less stunned than Vance Quimby had been. Unlike Vance, however, she said nothing to the others. Instead, she made straight for the bar and quickly mixed herself a scotch and soda. Previously, she had nursed a glass of white wine but obviously needed something stronger now.

  Wendy turned to Aurelia and said, “Is she okay?”

  “I’m afraid I was a bit too on the nose for her,” Aurelia said. “That sometimes happens. As I told all of you, I hold nothing back in my readings. It comes with the territory.”

  Charlotte took a big swallow of her drink. “Some bad memories got dredged up, that’s all.”

  “I’m truly sorry if you’re upset,” Aurelia added. “But I assume you wanted me to tell you the truth.”

  “And you did,” Charlotte said, the liquor calming her down somewhat. “I suppose I should have expected it since you were so accurate with Vance.”

  “She’s two for two apparently,” Vance said. “That’s pretty remarkable, if you ask me.”

  Sarah Ann excitedly caught his gaze and then focused on Aurelia. “Well . . . I guess I’d like to be next and you can try to make it three for three.”

  Aurelia’s tone became solicitous. “Are you certain? I’d like to emphasize again that it’s not my mission to upset people. I’ve had people tell me that they’re jealous of my gifts, but they can also be a burden to carry around, believe me. There are times when I wish I could look people in the face and not know a thing about them other than what they tell me.”

  But Sarah Ann just shrugged. “Don’t worry about it in the least. My mother and I get into it all the time.”

  * * *

  Once Aurelia and Sarah Ann had disappeared to begin their session, Charlotte decided to open up to the others, even though none of them had pressed her. Perhaps it was the liquor at work. “About my reading—it’s just that I haven’t discussed this subject with anyone since I moved to Rosalie a few months ago, yet somehow Aurelia knew what had happened.”

  “I hope you understand that you don’t have to explain anything to us if you don’t want to,” Wendy said. “These are private matters.” Then she turned toward Vance. “The same applied to you, of course. You didn’t have to tell us anything about the plot of your novel or what Aurelia said.”

  “I realize that,” he said, sounding very upbeat. “But these things don’t happen every day, you know. It’s probably just the writer in me that couldn’t help but blurt it out to all of you. It’s not business as usual.”

  Charlotte took another sip of her drink, and that seemed to strengthen her resolve further. “He’s right, of course. Perhaps it’s better if I just get it off my chest finally.” She took a deep breath and then continued. “The reading concerned my late husband. I’ve told people that I’m a widow, which is true enough. But unfortunately, I did not lose Jimmy Ruth to natural causes. I expected us to be together for many more years. He committed suicide on me a few years back—swallowed too many sleeping pills, and it was no accident. He’d known his correct dosage for years. It’s taken me a while to get over it, and I’m still not there. Moving to Rosalie was my attempt to try and truly make a fresh start. The point is that very few people know about my husband’s suicide, but somehow Aurelia did, and it really caught me off guard.”

  Wendy was the first to say it, gently rubbing Charlotte’s arm. “I’m sure we’re all so sorry for your loss.”

  The others made sympathetic noises, and Charlotte said, “Thank you all for your concern. Aurelia said the same thing to me after her words came out. I suppose Jimmy’s suicide had to see the light of day sooner or later. You’d think it was my fault the way I’ve been acting about it all this time. I keep thinking that maybe there was something I could have done to prevent it from happening. Who knew he was that depressed? Do we ever really know what’s going on deep inside the people we love? I try not to beat myself up, but there it is.”

  An uneasy silence fell over the group as they exchanged bewildered glances, but Wendy finally broke through. “Grief is one of the most difficult things in life to deal with. I know what I’m talking about. When I lost my mother to pneumonia when I was only fifteen, I thought my world had come to an end. I couldn’t see tomorrow coming. All the juvenile concerns of high school seemed ridiculously unimportant to me at that point, and the friends I had faded away. None of them knew what to do or say to me, and I withdrew from them anyway. High school and death just weren’t meant to go together. Dying is supposed to be for much later on in life. Fortunately, my father helped me get through it all. So please don’t beat yourself up, Charlotte. Cut yourself all the slack you need.”

  “Believe me, I’m trying. That’s the main reason I decided to take up bridge. I’d heard it was a great way to meet new people.”

  “And you have already,” Vance said, pointing to himself with a smirk on his face. For a split second, it appeared that he might even be hitting on her. “No telling how much we’ll end up knowing about each other by the time we become bridge experts, right, Wendy?”

  There was welcome laughter all around, and Wendy said, “I certainly hope that’s the end result. We’re all pretty chummy in the Bridge Bunch out at the RCC, where you’ll eventually be playing if I’m any kind of bridge instructor.”

  “How long do you think that’ll be?” Charlotte said. Her mood and tone of voice had finally returned to normal.

  Wendy gently patted her shoulder. “I’ll know when all of you are ready. As I told you, I’ll ease you in so you won’t be overwhelmed.”

  * * *

  Sarah Ann sounded not the least bit disturbed when she returned from her cold reading. “I’m happy to report that Aurelia is three for three,” she began, making the peace sign above her head. “She absolutely nailed it, and I have no doubts whatsoever about her gifts.”

  Aurelia tried to sound self-deprecating but missed the mark. “Maybe I’m on a roll, but I don’t know. I can have my off days.”

  “Are you going to share with us, Sarah Ann?” Charlotte said. “As Wendy said, you don’t have to. Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

  Sarah Ann emphatically pointed her index finger at the ceiling. There was a quality of strength in her voice that hadn’t been there before. Had that been a perk of her cold reading?

  “Gladly. It’s not that complicated. Aurelia told me she saw this image of a Bible being thrown to the floor by someone in a fit of anger. She said she could hear the loud thud clearly and saw a cloud of thick dust rising up, and I made sense of all that immediately. My mother and I have been arguing a blue streak these past few months about my wanting to stop going to church with her—even leaving the church entirely. She practically has a stroke every time I bring it up. What it comes down to is I’ve told her that I want to start thinking for myself and not take all these passages in the Bible literally the way she does. She applies them to everything that happens in today’s changing world, and I’ve told her that I think it’s irrelevant. We are not living thousands of years ago. She insists that some things about faith are timeless, though, and she gets very angry with people who disagree with her.”

  “Religion can be a touchy subject,” Charlotte said. “I’ve found it best to avoid discussing it with most people over the years. It’s a trigger for certain types. My older sister is still not speaking to me because I stopped going to church altogether. Meanwhile, she goes several times a week. She says, ‘Just to make sure,’ whatever that’s supposed to mean. She’s a good person, but she acts like she’s some sort of monster unless she shows up in church.”

  “There’s much more to it than attendance, as far as I’m concerned,” Sarah Ann continued in a lecturing mode. “My belief is that too many people use their religious beliefs to hurt rather than help others, and I don’t think that’s right. Mother’s from a different generation, and she says that we have to abide by everything in the Bible or else face these dire consequences at the end. So when Aurelia said she saw an image of someone slamming down a Bible, I interpreted that to be me in opposition to my mother’s views. I didn’t even have to think twice.”

  “Do many people know about this debate going on between you and your mother?” Charlotte said.

  “We’ve kept it mostly private. We don’t air the family’s dirty laundry as a rule. That’s why I was so impressed when Aurelia brought it all up. How, indeed, did she know about it?”

  “If I were you,” Charlotte continued, “I might think twice before telling your mother about discussing all of that with Aurelia at length. She could lose it.”

  Sarah Ann dismissed the comment with a cavalier wave of her hand. “It’s way too late for that, I’m afraid. Mother already disapproves of my taking up card-playing, if you can believe it, and when I told her about Aurelia being a psychic, she hit the roof. ‘That kind of thing is the work of the Devil,’ she said. ‘It will only lead you further astray, and I cannot be responsible for what happens to you.’ ”

  Aurelia addressed the entire group, sounding not the least bit defensive. “It’s not my place to come between mother and daughter, you understand, but I think Sarah Ann must assert herself if she is going to live her own life the way she wants. We’re all on our different journeys.”

  Sarah Ann nodded emphatically. “Exactly. As far as Mother is concerned, I’ve already hurled myself off a huge cliff and can hardly be saved. Things couldn’t be any worse between us. Frankly, I don’t think learning how to play bridge and going to a psychic make me a bad person, but she does.”

  Then Milton Bagdad, who had been taking everything in mostly in silence, stepped up. He could not have sounded more eager and childlike. “I wonder what you have in store for me, Miz Aurelia? I’d like to be next, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course. But please—call me, Aurelia, like everybody else does.”

  “You got it,” he said, as the two of them headed toward the reading room.

  * * *

  The oddest thing about the behavior of both Milton and Aurelia when they emerged from his session ten minutes or so later was that they both appeared to be under the influence of something. Was it alcohol, or was it a drug of some kind? Had they indulged inside the room? Or was there something else in play entirely? Milton staggered slightly as he led the way, and Aurelia’s signature poise and knack for gliding effortlessly across the floor seemed to have abandoned her completely. Her movements were suddenly awkward and choppy. It also seemed that gravity had done its best to pull their facial muscles downward in an exaggerated manner that defied description.

  “What on earth is wrong?” Wendy said, although everyone else was surely thinking the same thing.

  Milton seemed unable to speak, and Aurelia shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry to have to say so, but I think what was discussed in the room needs to be left private between the two of us. That’s ordinarily the case in my practice, but some of you have chosen to open up with the others.”

  Milton agreed quickly with a nod of his head, and then as a couple of the others had done, he, too, resorted to the bar to steady himself.

  “Sometimes, these readings can be overwhelming, often when you least expect them to be,” Aurelia added. “At other times, some sense can be made of them, but this is not one of those cases.”

  The words had a foreboding, almost numbing effect on Wendy at first. She wondered if she should just tell Aurelia to skip doing a cold reading for her and call it quits for the evening. Then, something Ross had said to her earlier in the week bubbled up again. He had explained the Barnum effect to her and that some things that psychics did or said just might be part of the act, done entirely for effect. Wendy did not, however, bring any of that up to Aurelia. Instead, she thought better of her misgivings and said, “I’ll take you at your word, then. But do you think you have enough left for one last reading? I think I’d definitely like to take my turn.”

  Aurelia seemed to recover her composure somewhat. “Of course. I’ve rarely conducted this much business in one evening over the years, but I’m quite sure I can wind things up with you, Wendy.”

  The word conducted stuck in Wendy’s head for some reason, but she did not think she had consciously brought it forth.

  * * *

  Moments later, Wendy found herself sitting directly across from Aurelia at a small table covered with white lace. There was no crystal ball, nor any tarot cards and traditional props of that kind. The room, itself, was very small, with the walls painted a bright red, suggesting a warmth that did not exist within it. Instead, it felt uncomfortably cold. Two large potted palms flanked the table, and a few of the more mature fronds stretched toward the high ceiling as if trying to touch it.

  The first thing Aurelia did was to take Wendy’s right hand in hers. She held it there loosely for a while. “Please look into my eyes quietly,” Aurelia said. “But don’t forget to blink. This isn’t a staring contest.”

  The comment made Wendy chuckle as she began to do as she was told. A minute or two passed. Wendy tried her best to keep her mind blank, even though from time to time she could hear snippets of the muffled conversation of the others out in the parlor. If this was all about reading minds, then perhaps she should try and make it as difficult on Aurelia as she could. But she soon discovered that it was somewhat of a chore to keep her mind completely unoccupied. She realized that she had never even tried it before. There had never been a time that she could recall when there hadn’t been at least something she was thinking about in there, however trivial it might be.