Katrina appeared not to hear her. “Your mother asks forgiveness for the harsh words she spoke to you the week before she died.”
Piper’s mouth fell open.
“It is something she regrets. She was angry because you broke off your engagement to the man she thought perfect for you. A man with a name that sounds like Jonathon, or Jefferson.”
“Enough!” Piper visibly trembled. “How dare you mention my mother!”
I held up my hand. “I don’t think we need more messages from the Great Beyond today.”
Time to derail this meeting before Piper turned into a real-life version of the autocratic Miranda Priestly from The Devil Wears Prada. As someone named after a Dickens character, I often equated people with their fictional counterparts. Miranda Priestly seemed a doppelgänger for Piper; even their hairstyles were identical, except Piper kept her stylish bob ash blond, not white.
Then again, although I had only recently met Katrina, it was long enough to realize she could hold her own with anyone, even Piper. Katrina reminded me of Mary Poppins: determined, firm, and gifted in cheerfully ordering people about.
Katrina demonstrated that when she said, “Agreed. Some people are not prepared to hear the truth. Perhaps the mayor’s wife will contact me when she is ready.”
“I heard you get up while I was still in bed,” I said to forestall Piper’s response.
“I wanted to brush the snow off my car before taking a shower and getting on the road.”
I smiled. “Since you put your coat and boots on, I guess you’re leaving now.”
“Best to take advantage of the break in the weather. The sooner I’m back home, the better.” Katrina pulled a fuzzy cap out of her coat pocket. “I have clients to read for in Grand Rapids this afternoon. I also promised Natasha I’d work out the feng shui placement for her lobby by Monday. And I received a psychic message that must be passed on to my accountant.”
“Such a busy girl.” Piper’s tone of voice revealed that she had recovered from the shock of Katrina’s reading. “Is it true you also passed on psychic messages to Everett Hostetter’s sister?”
I sat up. “What?”
Katrina took the question with aplomb. “That was a long time ago.”
“A little over nine years.” Piper’s expression turned smug.
“Did you know his sister?” I asked Piper.
“No, but Ginger did. Everett lived in Grosse Pointe before coming here. As did his sister, Sarah, who was married to Dr. Franklin Thorne, an ophthalmic surgeon. Ginger met the Thornes at a charity function, although Franklin has since died.” Piper looked at Katrina. “You probably know when.”
“He died eighteen years ago, but I met Sarah much later,” Katrina answered in a brisk voice, as if she were discussing how best to organize your sock drawer. “And I didn’t technically work for her. After she and I became acquainted, I helped her as much as my gifts allowed.”
“I assumed you passed on messages from the deceased Dr. Thorne,” Piper said. “Did you feng shui her kitchen, too? Maybe reorganize the cupboards.”
“Give it a rest, Piper.” My patience was growing thin.
“I did both.” Katrina turned her stern nanny vibe way up. “After her husband’s death, Sarah became a recluse and allowed the house to fall into neglect. I am skilled at reading the energy in a room, which involves far more than reorganizing. There’s a spiritual dimension to feng shui, an ancient Chinese practice which goes back even further than the Lyall family in Oriole Point.”
Piper glared at her. I didn’t need to be a feng shui specialist to read her energy.
“Some people don’t understand the benefits of clearing the energy around them,” Katrina continued. “Sarah realized her surroundings had allowed grief and fear to overwhelm her. I helped release the negativity in her home.”
“Did that include any unwelcome ghosts?” Piper said with scorn.
“Whether ghosts are welcome or not is not my concern. I am only a conduit. When spirits have a message to pass on, I do as they ask.”
Piper smirked.
“How did Everett’s sister and you meet?” I asked.
“I met her through Everett.”
“Are you saying Everett Hostetter was interested in feng shui?”
Katrina waved her hand as if to banish the idea. “He thought it was nonsense.”
I felt a bit confused. “Then Everett believed in ghosts?”
She hesitated. “Everett believed in only two things: the power of money. And the existence of ghosts. Of a life beyond the grave.”
“Hah!” Piper cried with derision.
“I’m sure you had only a passing acquaintance with him. Too passing for you to realize where his fears lay.”
“Fears?” I asked. “He was afraid of ghosts?”
Katrina sighed. “Aren’t most people afraid of ghosts?”
“Not you, of course,” Piper shot back.
“Sometimes even I am afraid of them.” A shadow passed over Katrina’s face. “Ghosts know so much about us.”
There didn’t seem to be an adequate response for that. “How did you meet Everett?”
“I appeared weekly on a local TV morning program to talk about feng shui. On occasion, I did psychic readings for the anchor team, particularly around Halloween. My segments were quite popular with viewers.”
As a former TV producer, I could see how Katrina would be an asset to any program. She was a pretty brunette: articulate, polished, relentlessly confident.
“Everett saw me on the morning show. A segment where I passed on messages from the weatherman’s recently deceased father. His office contacted me.”
“How did Everett Hostetter become interested in ghosts?” Lionel asked her.
“He had experience with the paranormal. Several prophetic dreams, a grandmother who appeared to him the night she died. His sister and mother were believers, too. Growing up, the family lived in what he claimed was a haunted house.”
I sat back. “Wow.”
“Exactly,” Piper said. “If ever there was a man who seemed immune to the supernatural, it was Everett Hostetter.”
“That proves you didn’t know him,” Katrina replied. “Then again, he didn’t allow people to get too close.”
“Except for you.” Piper suddenly looked like a cat who has caught sight of a bowl of cream. “Ginger mentioned that you were briefly married to Everett.”
I dropped what was left of my coffee cake.
Katrina pursed her lips. “This Ginger person had a lot to say about Everett and me.”
I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice. “You were Everett Hostetter’s wife?”
Katrina nodded.
“How long were you married?”
“Only a year. The age difference was too great for the marriage to continue.”
“Yes. A husband who’s a century older than his wife might present problems.”
“Piper, really,” Lionel chided her.
Katrina shrugged. “I understand your shock. Everett was eighty-five when he proposed.”
“How old were you?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around all this.
“Twenty-nine.”
I couldn’t help cringing.
“It was all rather whirlwind. He proposed on our fourth dinner date. Everett had isolated himself for many years. He wanted a companion.” Katrina paused. “I also had abilities he was intrigued by.”
Piper gave a harsh laugh. “I’m sure you did.”
“I resent your implication.” Katrina’s eyes flashed with anger.
“How did you come to work for his sister?” I asked before a quarrel broke out between the two women.
Katrina shifted her attention to me. “As I said, I never worked for her. Sarah and Everett were estranged. Something he regretted. Everett realized I could help his sister.”
“With psychic readings or feng shui?” I asked.
“Both. I regarded myself as a peace offering. Fortu
nately, after some resistance to the shock of our marriage, Sarah welcomed my help. After all, I was family now. I’m glad she did. I convinced her to let go of the negative energy in her home. And her life. The spirit world also had messages for her that I was able to relay.”
“If you passed on messages from her dead husband,” Piper said with disapproval, “you took advantage of a widow’s grief.”
Katrina stiffened. “That wasn’t how Sarah saw it. Our sessions provided closure and solace. I like to think we became friends. Sarah was as lonely as her brother.”
“She did have a son,” Piper reminded her.
Katrina raised an impeccably shaped eyebrow at Piper. “Who spent all his time in California. Of course Anthony did finally show up.” Her voice hardened. “For her funeral.”
“When did she die?” I asked.
“A little over nine years ago. The day before she died, I’d given her a reading over the phone. She seemed fine. The next morning she was dead from a sudden heart attack.” Katrina shook herself. “Why are we talking about Sarah? This is not a topic for casual conversation.”
She was right. However, I was intrigued by this latest weird connection with Everett Hostetter. First, our village policewoman turned out to be his daughter. Now, I learned he’d been married to the local psychic.
“You didn’t keep his name after the divorce,” I observed.
“It didn’t seem right. The marriage was so brief.” Katrina glanced out the window. “I do need to go before the lake-effect snow starts up again.” She turned to leave.
“Katrina,” I said, “do you mind if I ask when you moved to Grand Rapids?”
For the first time I saw her firm resolve waver. I’m no mind reader, but I suspected she was undecided about whether to be honest.
“Nine years ago,” she said finally. “Now I must be on my way.”
Her confident smile back in place, she gave us a royal wave and left.
The three of us remained silent until after the front door shut. Minnie muttered, “Katrina, Katrina, Katrina,” as Panther scampered into view, batting a plastic ball.
“How strange,” I said finally.
Piper looked vindicated. “Isn’t she? And I haven’t even told you what Ginger said.”
Lionel looked closer at me. “I think Marlee is troubled about something else.”
“Everett Hostetter and his nephew moved to Oriole Point nine years ago,” I began. “Katrina came to the area then as well. And Janelle Davenport relocated from Wisconsin at the same time. It’s too coincidental. And I don’t believe in coincidences.”
Piper looked confused. “Why should we care when Officer Davenport moved here?”
“Janelle is Everett’s daughter.”
“His daughter?” Piper shrieked as Lionel choked on his cake.
I explained how the death of Everett Hostetter was being handled by Kit and the sheriff’s department since one of the Oriole Point police officers was a child of the deceased.
“I don’t think I ever saw Everett and Janelle together,” Lionel said.
“Were you friends with Everett?” I had a hard time imagining Everett with friends.
“No. But Everett attended every meeting of the city council. Armed with a list of complaints, suggestions, and grievances. Sometimes he stopped by my office with recommendations as to how I could be running the town better.”
“And he never mentioned Janelle?”
“He never talked about anything personal.”
I looked at Piper, who appeared lost in thought. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m upset something like this escaped my notice. I pride myself on knowing how everyone is connected in Oriole Point. Somehow I’ve dropped the ball.”
“Don’t blame yourself. I bet both of them agreed to keep their father/daughter relationship secret. What’s weird is that I was the one who told Janelle her father died.”
Piper looked at me with wide eyes. “How did she take it?”
“Shocked at first. With no sign of grief. Instead, she seemed to find it funny. She never mentioned he was her father.”
“I wonder who Janelle’s mother is,” Piper said.
Lionel looked thoughtful. “And I wonder why they kept their relationship a secret.”
Piper snapped her fingers. “Speaking of secrets, I haven’t told you about my conversation with Ginger. She says Sarah Thorne wasn’t the only rich client of Katrina May. Ginger knows of three others, all with stories to tell.”
“Since you asked if I had anything valuable upstairs, I assume they accused Katrina of theft.”
“One of Katrina’s first clients hired her as a feng shui consultant for a vacation home. At the end of the job, she discovered several expensive designer handbags missing, two of them Birkins.” An outraged Piper looked down at her own teal handbag; she never left the house without one of her color-coordinated Birkins. For anyone to steal a Birkin ranked high on Piper’s list of most heinous crimes.
“Did she call the police?”
“This particular socialite and her husband had a fondness for cocaine.” Piper lowered her voice. “And Katrina gave them a psychic reading. She warned them to revert to clean living or the police would enter their lives.”
“The couple viewed it as a veiled threat,” Lionel said. “They worried if they reported Katrina to the police about the handbags, she might tell them about the stashes of cocaine hidden in the house. Which she must have discovered during her feng shui organizing.”
“The woman is a liar and opportunist,” Piper declared.
Or she’s the real deal, I thought. “Is this all Ginger has on Katrina?”
“Tell her about Robert Swann,” Lionel suggested.
“Robert Swann is an exclusive jeweler in downtown Birmingham,” Piper said, mentioning a tony city in metro Detroit’s Oakland County. “After an attempted robbery in his showroom, he hired Katrina to do her feng shui thing for him. That’s how he learned she was also a psychic.”
“I don’t see the problem.”
“She began to give him readings,” Piper went on. “And the spirits knew a great deal about his extramarital affairs. Since Robert was only successful because he married into a wealthy family of jewelers, he couldn’t risk losing everything if his affairs came to light.” Piper’s smile turned knowing. “And after she finished working for Swann, Katrina was seen wearing a number of highly expensive pieces of jewelry.”
“You’re saying she blackmailed the jeweler?”
“She, or her devious ghosts. And I bet the contents of her jewelry box would dazzle.”
“Maybe he had an affair with Katrina. The jewels could have been a gift.”
“Don’t be obstinate.” Piper looked frustrated. “She used her spirits to threaten him.”
“Her next client was a rich widower in his seventies,” Lionel said. “He had moved into a condo, but didn’t want to give up all the stuff from his previous residence. His daughter hired Katrina May to convince him to let these possessions go.”
“Let me guess. Something went missing.”
“Worse,” Piper said. “He died.”
I started. “Did the police suspect Katrina of murder?”
“No, he died of complications from pneumonia.” Piper seemed disappointed. “But after his death the family learned his will had been altered. The widower collected art. And he left a valuable painting to Ms. May. A Basquiat.”
“Interesting.” Jean-Michel Basquiat was one of the most famous contemporary American artists of the past fifty years.
“The family accused Katrina of conniving to get the painting, which his daughter was especially fond of. They claimed Katrina passed on messages from his deceased wife, casting his relatives in a negative light. The family tried to prevent Katrina from taking possession of the Basquiat, but she hired an attorney and threatened to sue for slander. Clever girl.” Piper’s voice held a note of grudging admiration.
“What about Everett’s sist
er? Did Katrina steal from her, too?”
Husband and wife looked at each other. “Not that we know of,” Lionel said finally.
“Let me get this straight. Katrina is suspected of stealing handbags. She may have frightened a cheating jeweler into handing over some baubles. And you believe she conspired with a dead wife’s ghost to nab herself a Basquiat.” I crossed my arms. “Do we also think she kidnapped the Lindbergh baby?”
“After you’re done with the sarcasm,” Piper said, “I think you’ll agree there’s something fishy about our feng shui psychic.”
I shrugged. “Possibly. But don’t be alarmed on my behalf. I don’t own a Birkin or a Basquiat. And my most expensive piece of jewelry came from QVC.”
Lionel sighed. “We can’t help but be worried, Marlee.”
“She’s been living in Grand Rapids for years,” I said. “Less than an hour’s drive away. Have you heard any rumors about dubious deeds committed on this side of the state?”
Piper perked up. “I googled Katrina and found out she’s dating Randall Gorman, the man who owns half the radio stations in west Michigan. There are lots of photos of them attending black-tie events along the lakeshore.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. Katrina’s pretty, smart, successful.”
“Oh, she’s successful. One of the online articles said Katrina met Randall when he and the former Mrs. Gorman hired her to feng shui their lake house. Six months later, the Gormans divorced. The article mentioned there were financial indiscretions on the part of Mrs. Gorman, causing Randall to divorce her.”
“And you think Katrina and her spirits told Randall about these indiscretions?”
“Absolutely. Randall is so impressed by Katrina’s feng shui and psychic skills, he plans to give her a daily radio show.” Piper gave me a knowing look. “For him to be impressed by Little Miss Psychic, she must have given him a demonstration. I bet her spirits revealed his ex-wife’s mishandling of their money. Which led to the divorce.”
“Perhaps. Only there’s more than one explanation for everything you’ve told me. But this does all sound a little shady.”
Piper sat back with her arms crossed. “Shady is the word for it. You need to warn Natasha. I may not think highly of the Russian Tornado, but I don’t want to see Natasha robbed by that sly snake.”
Hollyberry Homicide Page 6
