by Anne Canadeo
“It was . . . interesting. She did say a few things to each of us that seemed on target. But I still don’t think she’s really psychic,” Lucy said. “There are so many ways to ‘read’ people and she’s definitely very sharp and knows how to gain a person’s trust.”
Matt nodded thoughtfully. “Sort of sizes you up and lulls you in? Like a used car salesman?”
Lucy laughed. “A little more subtle than that . . . but yes, I guess that’s her technique.”
“So, what she’d say? I’d still like to hear some of it.”
“Let’s see. . . . She started with Suzanne, whom she called a Warrior Princess. She guessed that there was an office rivalry. But with Suzanne’s pushy personality, that was low-hanging fruit, right?”
Matt nodded and grinned. “Very true. Go on.”
“She already knew that Dana is a psychologist and said she has to be careful of the dangerous energies of her clients . . . and that she has a public and private personality. She said Maggie was creative, but could improve her business skills. Oh, and the spirits were happy to see her sharing her gift with the world. Maggie looked very pleased to hear that.”
Matt shrugged. “Who wouldn’t be?”
Lucy laughed at him. “Now that I’m recapping all these pronouncements, it doesn’t sound like very much. Does it? Her delivery adds a lot. She’s very dramatic.”
“Well, I’m not that impressed. I must admit. I could have dressed up in a turban and told you all that stuff for free.”
“We’ll take you up on that, honey. Next time,” Lucy replied.
“What did she say about you?”
Lucy looked away from his curious gaze and focused instead on Tink, who sat calmly beside her, gnawing on a toy. “Oh . . . the usual stuff. She did see a tall man in my life,” Lucy said, embellishing a bit. “Do you think she means you?”
She laughed at his reaction. “It better be. . . . What did she say about this tall, handsome guy?”
“She just said tall,” Lucy corrected. “But a suitable match, I think.”
“You think? You don’t remember?” Matt was acting mildly insulted but she knew he was just teasing her.
“Yes, definitely suitable. I guess she said a few more nice things about the tall man, too,” she added for good measure.
She picked up the other half of the sandwich; definitely a winning recipe, though she doubted she could ever reproduce the combination.
“This is good. . . . I don’t even know what I put in here.”
“Don’t try to change the subject. What else did she say?”
Lucy wondered now how much she should tell Matt. Was this a good time to initiate that “No pressure . . . but what’s up with our relationship, pal?” conversation that Suzanne had been encouraging?
Lucy wasn’t sure. As good a time as any, she supposed.
“Let’s see . . . first she told me I was a queen. Creative and dreamy.”
“And beautiful,” he added quickly.
“She did say that. I didn’t want to brag.” Lucy smiled at him, sipping a cold beer. “But she also said I was Hermit. Or even an upside-down hanging man . . . Or maybe you are? The tall, handsome man in my life, I mean. Hanging upside down.”
Her explanation trailed off, treading in tricky territory now, she realized.
Matt glanced at her, still smiling, but his eyes squinting a bit with unease. “A Hermit? Or an upside man?”
Lucy nodded and took a breath. She said there’s a question in our relationship. A challenge that needs to be resolved. Regarding our future. Our commitment? The words formed in Lucy’s head, but she couldn’t quite get them out. Tink had licked every possible tasty morsel from her toy and stuck her nose in Lucy’s paper plate, investigating new possibilities.
Lucy snatched it away, but not before a pile of pita chips spilled over and the dogs both descended, like hungry gulls.
“Oh, dear . . . chips are bad, dogs. . . .”
Matt laughed. “Too late now. It won’t hurt them.”
True enough. She sighed, as big sandy paws tramped around the blanket and Matt’s cell phone rang insistently as well.
He checked the number. “It’s Claire,” he said, mentioning his ex-wife. “I’d better take this. She was trying to reach me all day.”
“Nothing wrong with Dara, I hope?”
Matt had an adorable nine-year-old daughter. Lucy had worried at first how Dara would feel about sharing her father. But she and Dara got along wonderfully, mainly because some part of Lucy had remained perennially ten years old. Everybody knew it. She loved to play kick ball, do crafts, bake cookies, and watch Harry Potter and Disney movies.
“No big deal. We still didn’t sort out the camp thing and vacation time. I’d better talk to her.”
Matt picked up the call and Lucy picked up the mess. The tide was going out very quickly now. Small tide pools reflected the fading sunlight and little children waded in the puddles, some trying to catch tiny crabs and fish trapped there. Lucy loved the beach at this time of night.
But the biting flies soon arrived. They loved dusk on the shoreline, too. Before too long, she and Matt ended up running to Matt’s truck, blanket, basket, and dogs in tow.
When they got home, Matt had to call his ex-wife back and talk about Dara’s summer plans in more detail. Lucy decided to take the dogs out since they’d missed a walk on the beach.
She wanted the exercise, too, feeling a little frustrated that she’d missed a good moment to have a serious talk with Matt. Maybe the spirits knew it wasn’t the right time yet, she reasoned with a secret smile. Maybe they’ll give me a sign when the perfect moment arises?
Lucy strolled the usual loop around her neighborhood, but when she came to the turn that headed home, she spotted a notoriously nasty shepherd mix approaching in the distance.
She quickly doubled back and turned her dogs down the nearest corner, Ivy Lane, glad for the escape route. Tink and Wally were normally gentle souls, but could morph into wolves of the wild when challenged. Lucy didn’t feel like having her arms yanked out of their sockets, or even being knocked down.
The moon was full, shining bright and low above the trees and rooftops, casting the street in silvery shadows. Halfway down the block, she suddenly remembered, this was the street where Cassandra Waters lived.
She couldn’t recall the house number, but it didn’t take long to notice a small yellow cottage with a decorative flag hanging near the front door—a golden angel on a purple background. And as if there could be any doubt, a sign hung on a post halfway up the drive, CASSANDRA WATERS—PSYCHIC ADVISOR, with her phone number posted beneath.
The light was on in a front room and sheer white curtains were drawn tight over the window. But when she walked closer, the door opened. Lucy paused, holding her dogs back and stepping behind a tree.
She peered around and saw Cassandra in the doorway. She wore a long robe covered with flowers. Purple, her signature color. A man came outside and stood with his back toward the street as he spoke to Cassandra. He wore a baseball cap pulled low over his head, and sunglasses. Obviously keeping a low profile.
Cassandra’s visitor suddenly turned and walked quickly across the lawn to the sidewalk, his back still turned toward Lucy. Which she found most annoying. Lucy saw a van parked at the end of the street, in front of an empty, wooded stretch of property.
Cassandra watched her visitor depart for a moment, then shut the door. The van started up and drove down the street, headed Lucy’s way. Just as it rolled by, she peeked around the tree and peered through the driver’s-side window.
The driver had tossed his hat and glasses aside. Lucy could see very clearly that it was Richard Gordon, Nora’s husband.
What was he doing here, skulking around, visiting Cassandra Waters? While she was dressed in just a bathrobe?
None of the possibilities that came to mind seemed entirely innocent.
Chapter Five
“I knew that she lived near me. Her
address is on that card she gives out. But I didn’t realize how close her house is. Until I was walking on Ivy Lane. Then I wasn’t sure of the number, but she has a sign hanging near the front door, psychic advisor. Like a doctor or dentist.”
“The neighbors must be loving that.” Suzanne was clearly amused. “That knocks about ten thousand off your asking price. Maybe more.”
Leave it to Suzanne to see everything through the lens of property values. Lucy hadn’t even thought of it.
“I was just looking at the house and the front door opened. A man walked out and Cassandra stood there a minute, saying goodbye to him. I saw her lean forward and they got very close. She could have been talking to him, not wanting anyone to overhear. Or she may have kissed him. I’m not really sure. It was dark and his back was turned toward me. He also had his collar flipped up and wore a baseball cap and sunglasses,” Lucy explained.
“Interesting,” Dana said quietly. “Definitely flying under the radar.”
“I wouldn’t doubt Cassandra Waters has a few gentlemen callers in that category. She’s very attractive, in a sinuous sort of way. Some guys really like that.” Suzanne took a sip of iced tea and fanned herself with a pattern book that Dana was working from.
Lucy and Dana were wearing bathing suits, but Suzanne had dropped by on a break between appointments, and just had time to slip off her sandals and roll up her capris. It was Saturday, a busy day for her, especially in the summer.
Matt also had to work most of the day and Lucy had called Dana to see if she was up for a bike ride. Dana had persuaded her to come over and swim instead. “It’s too hot to ride, we’ll melt; and you’ll use different muscle groups swimming,” she reminded Lucy.
It was hot, and it didn’t take much to persuade Lucy to grab her bathing suit and knitting and head over.
“Maybe she was telling him something. Like, ‘Call me later, honey,’ ” Suzanne mused. “But it makes even more sense that she was kissing him goodbye, if she didn’t have any clothes on.”
“Suzanne, I did not say she wasn’t wearing clothes. It was a kimono. Some people wear those over clothes . . . don’t they?”
“Sure, bag ladies. They love a layered look. Actually, it’s just the type of lingerie I’d expect a psychic to wear, lounging around the house. Or entertaining a male companion.”
Dana ignored Suzanne’s fashion analysis. “Did you get to see the man’s face?”
“I couldn’t at first. But he took his hat and glasses off after he got into his van—which, by the way, was parked about a mile down the street.”
“Dead giveaway. That’s how cheaters park when they visit a honey,” Suzanne cut in.
“And I did see his face when he drove by.” Lucy paused. Shards of sunlight reflecting off the clear blue water suddenly bothered her eyes. “It was Richard Gordon. Nora’s husband,” she said quietly.
“Richard? Are you sure?” Dana leaned forward on the chaise longue, her knitting slipping into her lap.
Lucy nodded.
“Wow . . . that’s a bombshell.” Suzanne sat back, fanning faster. “Now I understand why you’re holding back on the kissing question. That is a game changer.”
“Exactly. I’m just telling you . . . and Maggie, of course,” she hastily added. “I don’t want to start any gossip about him. I’m not even sure what I saw. Except that it was definitely Richard leaving her house. And looking like he didn’t want anyone to know he’d been there.”
“What time was this?” Dana asked.
Lucy shrugged. “I’m not sure. It was dark out, after nine I guess.”
“That’s late enough for me to be suspicious.” Suzanne checked her phone and dabbed a bit of sunblock on her nose.
“Maybe he went there to pay for Nora’s sessions. I bet Cassandra prefers cash.” Lucy had given the question some thought last night and come up with a few—albeit slim—explanations that did not smear Richard’s reputation as a loving, devoted spouse.
“I bet she prefers cash, too,” Dana said. “Less to declare on her income tax. But then, why the disguise? Nora makes no secret of her relationship with Cassandra.”
“Maybe he was having a session with Cassandra and felt embarrassed about it,” Lucy offered. “It’s one thing for Nora to advertise that she believes in a psychic. But maybe Richard likes everyone to think he’s just humoring his wife and knows better.”
Lucy picked up her knitting, the summer tote project that Maggie had showed them Thursday night.
“Oh, I think he was having a private session, but no tarot cards involved,” Suzanne said decidedly. “That lame disguise and the car parked down the street? Come on, Lucy. Even you have to admit that MO has affair written all over it. Poor Nora. How weird is that? Your husband is running around with your psychic advisor? That’s really twisted.”
Suzanne picked up a carrot stick and chomped down noisily.
“That would be very sad. But we don’t know anything like that has happened,” Lucy quickly added.
“Lucy’s right,” Dana said. “Lots of people, especially men, would feel embarrassed to consult a psychic. Believe me, I get the same thing with patients feeling embarrassed about seeing a therapist.” She laughed and glanced at Lucy again. “I don’t think we know one way or the other what was going on there.”
Suzanne shrugged and poured herself more tea. “Maybe you guys don’t want to know.” She suddenly sat up straight in the lounge chair and pulled her dark glasses down off her forehead. “Hey . . . wait. I just remembered something. It’s just like that tarot card Cassandra pulled for you, Lucy—that really spooky-looking one with the big full moon and the two dogs, howling? And there were people in the background, doing something in secret at night, remember?”
“I do remember,” Lucy said, though the card’s eerie images and Cassandra’s prediction had not come to mind until now.
“She said the card was about a secret about to be revealed. A clandestine relationship,” Suzanne recalled. “I remember exactly . . . because it gave me the super-gooseflesh . . . which I am getting right now, guys. Even though you could fry an egg on the sidewalk today.”
Suzanne held her arms out, showing off her reaction.
Lucy felt a creepy chill, too, though she wasn’t nearly as dramatic about it. “I guess the connection didn’t occur to me because I was trying to relate the card to some secret in my life,” Lucy said. “But maybe I’m just the witness in the scene, and the card is really about Cassandra and Richard?”
Dana looked up from her knitting and met Lucy’s glance. “You sound like you believe her now, in her powers to predict the future.”
“No . . . not really.” Lucy realized she’d been swept away in Suzanne’s excitement. “But it is a strange coincidence.”
Dana nodded. “Yes, it is. If you choose to interpret it that way.”
They were all quiet a moment, even Suzanne. Then Lucy said, “I did think about Nora. Of course I would never tell her this. I don’t want to gossip or make her suspect something that isn’t true. But if turns out to be true and I didn’t say anything . . . I guess I’d feel bad about that, too.”
“It is a dilemma,” Dana agreed. “Maybe you should ask Maggie. She knows Edie and Nora best.”
Lucy thought that was a good suggestion and she certainly trusted Maggie’s discretion.
“I think that’s a good plan.” Suzanne closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “Hanging out at your pool, Dana, is giving me a good idea. Why don’t we all go away together for a night or two? It doesn’t have to be very far. But we could have a total blast. Just lolling on the beach, knitting, and watching dumb movies . . .”
“Sounds like everything we do right now . . . except for the beach,” Lucy replied, though she did like the idea. “What did you have in mind, a weekend on the Cape?”
“That’s an idea. But I did hear of this great little beach house that rents by the week, out on Plum Island. Sleeps six, and it’s right on the water. The tide i
s just lapping at your toes,” she said.
Lucy loved Plum Island and sometimes wished she lived out there, except for the inconvenience in bad weather, when the road washed out. The tiny island, little more than a sandbar, was connected to the village by a small land bridge and some residents even traveled back and forth by boat.
Lucy and Matt drove out there often, whenever they felt a need for a change of scenery from the neighborhood beach. Once across the bridge, you felt as if you’d traveled some distance, to a desolate, remote spot, filled with funky beach shacks and long, empty stretches of shoreline.
“You’ve totally sold me. No need for a big pitch,” Dana told her. “But can we find a weekend that we’re all free?”
Suzanne had already pulled out her phone to check her calendar. “Let’s see . . . I can do it the weekend of July eleventh. The kids will be at camp by then and I think Kevin is going on a fishing trip with his brother.” She looked up, beaming with pleasure at the thought. “On second thought, I might just stay in the house alone all weekend.”
“Hey, don’t back out on us now,” Dana said. “I’m definitely free that weekend. Jack is going to play golf with his brother down in Connecticut.”
“Great. I’ll let Maggie and Phoebe know,” Suzanne said. “They can close the shop one day in the middle of the summer. Not exactly prime knitting weather.”
“Only for the faithful. Like us,” Dana said. “What about you, Lucy? What do you think?”
It was the weekend before her birthday, but she was sure they had no special plans. “I’d love to do it and I’m pretty sure I’m free. Matt won’t mind. I think we were going to bring Dara up to camp in Maine that weekend. But she’ll be with us for a few days before, so I’m sure he won’t mind if I don’t go.”
“Perfect timing then.” Dana slipped her glasses back on and picked up speed with her stitching.
Suzanne sat up and met Lucy’s gaze straight on. “Speaking of Matt and former in-laws . . . how’s it going with that birthday gift situation? Were you able to change the bicycle order yet?”
