by Mary Bowers
“I’m ready. Just tell me what you want.”
“I need access to your newspaper archives.”
“I’ll do you one better, since The Keyster’s a weekly, and there’s not much in print yet on the teacup. I’ll give you access to my head, how’s that? I have a lot more up here than I have in print.”
“Excellent,” Ed said, getting brisk. “Maryellen. The cup?”
“I can’t possibly let you have it before Wednesday. Wednesday night.”
“But but but . . . .”
“I’m doing you a favor as it is, Ed. Don’t push me. I’d like to keep it even longer than that, but . . . .” She didn’t finish the thought. Then she regrouped and said, “I am not going to rush it. This is the cover of my new book, remember. It’s important. Besides, isn’t that pretty much how you usually do things?”
“It’s hardly the preferred way, and it will mean including Taylor in the shoot, if we’re going to find out our results while the camera is already rolling.”
“Oh, no,” I began, but Maryellen surprised me with the kindness in her voice as she said, “Don’t worry, Taylor, you’ll be all right. Ed will be there, and that Teddy Force is a big, dashing sort of a man. He’ll look after you.”
“I’ll be there too,” Michael said, quietly but very firmly. I didn’t argue.
Maryellen added, “You said you always just roll with it. Just do your thing like you always do. You’ll be fine. Remember, it’s only a teacup.”
My head still felt heavy, and my gaze settled on the torn wrappings from my new Christmas house, which was sitting right in front of Maryellen. I gestured at it. “Do you want to keep that thing too, until we can have the cup? You can give them both back to us when you’re done with the painting.”
“No,” she said sharply. Then, more gently, “No, go ahead and take it with you.” But she was staring at the Christmas house almost suspiciously. After a moment, she began to wrap it up again.
“Why don’t you let us take the cup out of here now, Maryellen?” I said. “You seem to feel differently about things all of a sudden.”
“Absolutely not,” she said, returning to her usual self. “Not until I’m done with it.”
“What exactly did you see?” The Professor asked me. “That face?”
“Yes, I saw a face. I heard some kind of a voice. And I felt myself falling. Those goggles are very disorienting,” I said, arguing against myself suddenly. “And the human brain is hardwired to make faces out of any two spots and a line. It’s a survival thing. I’ll know better when I can handle the cup again in a couple of days.”
“I don’t think you should handle that cup again at all,” Michael said.
“But it’s the only reason she came to Key West,” Ed said. “Taylor? Are you backing out now? If so, I want to debrief you about what you’ve experienced so far, at least. I think it would only be fair to me – and to yourself, since you’ve come so far.”
I suddenly wanted out, right then and there, since Ed had given me an opening. I struggled with it for a moment. Maybe Michael was right; maybe I had something I should be using. That feeling of falling off a ladder – it had been so real. There was an urgency to it I couldn’t shake off.
The reason for coming to Key West really had been more about being fair to Michael than dealing with any possessed objects, but things had changed somehow. I felt the pull of it; I wanted to know.
I decided to base my decision on the answer to just one question.
I turned to Maryellen and asked, “Did Lydia have curly hair?”
Startled, she answered, “Why, yes. It had gone white, of course, but it was still as curly as ever.”
I looked back to the messy, re-wrapped package in the middle of the table.
“I’m staying,” I said.
Chapter 13
We’d suddenly become a grim little group, and The Professor tried to lighten things up.
“Well, as long as you’re here,” he said, “you must view the sunset from Mallory Square.”
“Is that where everybody goes to applaud the sun going down?” Michael asked. He turned to me. “It’s a must-do.”
“Sure,” I said. “We’ll go act like we’ve never seen a sunset before.”
“If you’ve never seen a sunset from Mallory Square,” The Professor said, “you never have seen a sunset before. Rats,” he said, glancing out a window behind him. “it’s dark already. We missed it. How time flies when you’re having fun,” he said with a forced lightness. “Tomorrow? Shall we meet at Mallory Square? Say, about a quarter to six? Sunset is around 6:15.”
Ed managed to hold himself in, but he wasn’t happy about the prospect of even more frivolous distractions. Seeing this, The Professor told him, “You have tomorrow free, I take it, since you feel you can’t make any more progress until you take possession of the cup?”
Dismally, Ed nodded.
“That’s fine. Come early, and you can spend the whole morning interviewing me, if you like.”
Ed brightened up a bit. “Do you mind if I bring my producer? She should be in on it.”
“Not a bit. Bring her. Take notes. Record the whole thing. I’ll tell you whatever there is to know about Lydia, the teacup, and Key West at large. It’s all in here,” he added, tapping the side of his head.
“Fine,” Ed said. “It’ll give us something constructive to do before I lose the crew again, this time for an ordinary everyday celestial event, of all things.”
“You need to take a break sometimes,” The Professor said gently. “Besides, you might actually enjoy it. It’s not just the sunset; Key West likes to put on a show at dusk. There will be jugglers and contortionists and comedians.”
“And appropriate to that mix, Camille usually sets up a table there,” Maryellen said. “You can see her in action. Cross her palm with silver and she’ll tell you the future.”
“She already did,” I said. “Michael and I went to her shop this morning. According to her, Michael and I are going to be together forever, but forever isn’t going to be long if we don’t get out of Key West immediately.”
“Now that was very naughty of her,” Maryellen said, but she didn’t seem too upset about it.
Only Ed seemed really worried, and he asked, “What exactly did she say?”
“Oh, Ed, I don’t know,” I said. “She went off on us twice. The first time we were just sitting down and she had nice things to say. The second time she wasn’t happy with us and she told us to get out of Key West. It had more to do with the mood she was in than what her spirit guides were telling her.”
“She’d spent time with you before she told you to get out of Key West?” Ed asked.
“Right. That was as we were leaving, and she was making dire predictions about . . .” I paused and shot an uneasy glance at Maryellen, “the teacup.”
Maryellen picked up on it immediately. “Specifically about me, since I had the cup in my house. Did she come right out and say I was going to die?”
Michael and I looked at one another, and I said, “Actually . . . .”
“She did. Don’t be squeamish about it,” Maryellen said. Then she gave me a look. “You seem to be a different kettle of fish, but Camille is always wrong, isn’t she, Professor?”
The Professor, either because he liked to contradict her or because he really meant it, said, “Not always. She tends to be wrong when she tries too hard. When she predicts big things, like global storms or national election results, but when it’s person-to-person, I’ll just say she usually gives good advice.”
“That’s not how you reacted when we told you she said bad things were coming at us at the pie shop,” I said.
He looked at me sheepishly. “I didn’t want to upset you. And I didn’t want you to leave Key West because of what she said. Really, Camille is just human. Like any good fortuneteller, she’s able to read people, but reading other people is what all of us do. Most of us don’t try to make a living at it, but we can all do
it. Clinical analysis has shown that 93% of communication between people is non-verbal. Psychics deliberately sharpen their skills, but we all have them. Now don’t worry about what she told you. She was irritable at the time. I wouldn’t let it spoil your vacation. Meet me tomorrow night at Mallory Square for the sunset, and Camille will be there at her table if you want another crack at her. Chances are she’ll have yet a third version of your future. Maryellen, are you coming too?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
* * * * *
We broke up and left after that, The Professor to go home to Sailor, and Ed, Michael and I to go back to the B&B. It was getting late by then, and we were only going to freshen up and grab our jackets before turning right around and going out for dinner somewhere. A cloud seemed to be hanging over us, and Ed finally spoke up about what was bothering him.
“I don’t like what you had to say about Camille’s predictions. It’s the one she made last that counts. She’d been with you for a while by then; she’d gotten comfortable with you. She’d read you. Her psychic gifts had had time to kick in. The first prediction she made was just polite chatter.”
“Well, you do the worrying,” Michael said. “We’re going to go sightseeing. Until you need her for the shoot on Wednesday night, Taylor is going to be mine.”
“You’re not coming with me tomorrow to interview The Professor?” he asked, half pleading.
“We interviewed him practically all day,” Michael said.
“We look for different things than you do,” I said, trying to be diplomatic. “You take measurements and make observations. Our way of doing things is more informal.”
“I suppose so.”
We had arrived at The Sailor’s Rest by then, and Michael remarked, “We’ve missed happy hour. No wine and cheese for us.”
“We would have definitely been happier if we’d just stayed here,” I said. “Sorry, Ed, but I don’t think I want another look through those goggles after she gives up the teacup.”
“I never expected you to,” he said, following us in. “That was a bonus. No, you can handle the object in the usual way, once we gain possession.”
I have no “usual way,” but whatever.
Nobody else seemed to be around. We came to the doorway of Ed’s room and he looked at me, still troubled. “Are you going to have your fortune told by Camille tomorrow night?”
“Not if I can help it. So far she’s just been giving me free advice and I’m not impressed.”
He seemed to be weighing it in his mind. Then he said, “Don’t. Don’t let anybody talk you into it. I don’t want Camille telling your fortune again.”
“Why?” I asked. “I don’t either, but why don’t you?”
“Laymen never look at the whole picture. Like any scientist, I recognize how the act of measuring something changes it. Simply observing an animal changes its behavior. Human intervention changes outcomes. The same principle applies here.”
I frowned at him. “Are you suggesting that simply by reading my palm, Camille can put some kind of a curse on me, even if she doesn’t know she’s doing it?”
Ed nodded. “Crude, but accurate. Don’t let her touch you from now on, and do not let her make any more predictions.”
I shot my eyebrows up and said, “Okay, if you say so.”
“I say so,” Ed said. He turned smartly and walked into his room.
After he closed his door, we gave one another a glance and went into our own room. The door had been slightly open, and Bella was on the bed. When we came in, she lifted her head and stared at me. It was a “mom” look, as in “Where the hell have you been, who were you with, and what were you doing?”
Michael went over and sat on the bed, cooing and petting her, but Bella continued to stare at me.
“Not my buddy tonight?” he asked her. He shrugged, gave up on the cat and asked me, “Where do you want to go for dinner tonight?”
“Anyplace they’ll give me a drink without carding me.”
He grinned. “I bet there are a lot of them around here. We’ll go scout one out. Wear something soft and clingy. The way things have been going, this could be our only quiet dinner together while we’re here.”
“So it’s date night?”
“Definitely date night.”
“I brought just the right outfit.”
It was a sage-colored, jacketed dress, and as I slipped into it, he watched and approved.
We were trying to lighten things up, but as I moved around the room getting ready, the cat sat on the bed like a rock, moving only her eyes, following me everywhere I went. It began to get on my nerves. When we were ready to leave, she even got down and escorted us to the front door, and I had to be careful she didn’t get out of the house with us.
As we passed by Ed’s door, I heard him in there voice-recording notes. I felt bad about not inviting him along, but Michael was right: this might be our only chance for a romantic dinner. Besides, Ed wouldn’t starve. He never goes anywhere without a jar of peanut butter. He was probably in there as we walked by the room, eating a peanut butter sandwich and enjoying it exactly as much as he’d have enjoyed steak, lobster or the fresh catch of the day.
Chapter 14
I scored a Rum Runner at a little place not far from where we’d had lunch earlier in the day, and the fresh catch was my favorite: pompano. You don’t see that on menus much, especially not as far north as Tropical Breeze, so I ordered it whenever I saw a restaurant had it. We took our time over dinner, then walked around the wharf area, which was surprisingly lively at night. Finally I got too cold, though, even with my light jacket on, and we headed back towards the B&B.
Michael put his arm around me to warm me up, and we walked along slowly, slightly unsteady but happily connected.
Back at the B&B, the place still seemed deserted, although Arielle had left some subdued lighting on for us. I’d have said everybody else was asleep, but knowing Teddy and the gang, they were out carousing around, and they had our innkeeper with them.
Porter was transported with joy at the thought that we’d come back to him at last. He acted as if he’d been left alone for days. We actually didn’t know how long he had been alone. Ed likes animals in an academic way, he just doesn’t have any aptitude with them, and they know it. I was pretty sure it hadn’t occurred to him to let Porter out, so I did it myself.
The only other living things in the place were probably Bella and Ed, and before we could get past his room, he popped out at us.
“Shall we debrief now?” he asked me. “I’ll be busy with The Professor tomorrow, and Michael has claimed you for the day.”
“Is that really necessary?” I asked, but Michael had already bussed me on the cheek and said he’d see me back at the room. “After all, you were with me half the day. The only thing you don’t know about is what I did this morning.”
“You apparently did a lot this morning. If you please,” he said, standing aside for me to enter his room.
“Oh, all right, but this is only going to take about five minutes.”
Actually, it took almost two hours, by the time I got through with my session with Maryellen, Camille and Helena and their list of the teacup’s victims. Then I described Darrien coming at Arielle, the trip back to Key Estate Treasures with Helena and going on to Camille’s shop – I realized we’d done a heck of a lot for one day. And that didn’t even include pre-zert and lunch with The Professor.
For some reason, I didn’t tell him about Bella’s behavior. After all, she wasn’t really doing much. Without knowing the cat, I wasn’t sure it was even out of character. She was just silently attaching herself to me in a way that reminded me of . . . well, in a way that felt familiar.
When I decided I’d told him everything he needed to know and started to leave, I gave Ed a good look. “Aren’t you tired?”
“I’m never tired when I’m working,” he said absently. He was setting up his laptop. When it was ready, he bent his hea
d towards the glowing screen, located a particular sub-file, opened it and began to type madly.
“Well, try to get some sleep tonight.”
He jerked his head around and looked up at me, startled. He’d already forgotten I was there.
Chapter 15
“Well, look who’s decided to join us,” Teddy said, getting up from his breakfast table to play maitre d’ for Michael and me.
He’d been sitting at a table for two with Lily. Across the shady little patio, Wyatt and Elliott, the show’s videographer and soundman, were sharing another small table. They looked up and waved at us, then went back to their tablet devices.
Teddy’s table had been set lengthwise against a brick retaining wall that enclosed a tropical garden, and on the open side, Arielle had pulled up a chair and was having coffee with them. When we came out the side door of the B&B, she stood up and took us to another table for two, but before we could sit down, Teddy dragged Arielle’s chair aside, called over to Wyatt for help, and moved our table up against his own, making it a table for four. Lily watched all this, subtly amused, and while Arielle was busy pouring out orange juice for Michael and me, Ed came out of the house and pulled up a chair on the open side of our table, shutting out Arielle, though he didn’t realize it.
There was only one hot breakfast item on the menu: a vegetarian quiche, plated with a gorgeous assortment of fresh tropical fruits. In addition, there were fresh pastries, bagels and cold or hot cereal. We told Arielle we’d have the quiche. She looked at Ed but he was busy handing around print-outs of his notes from the day before. Arielle was waiting for his order, so I told her, “He’ll have the quiche, too.” She gave Ed a funny look and walked away.
As soon as we had coffee and juice, Teddy hunkered down and became the Man in Charge from Central Casting.
“Okay, you two,” he said to Michael and me, “I’m glad you’re enjoying your free vacation, but it’s time to get to work. We’ve got work to do, and so far both of you have been AWOL. Have you even been to the cemetery yet?”
