“You certainly look great. I love it when you wear your hair in a high ponytail.”
“Today called for it.”
Like me, Laura Sanders was thirty-five, but she didn’t look it. She was blonde, petite, and pretty, with fair skin that needed only the lightest touch of makeup to brighten it. Her eyes were blue—and filled with mischief.
Unlike me, Laura Sanders also was Fifth Avenue royalty.
Her father was a renowned developer who had single-handedly helped to change much of Manhattan’s skyline, and her mother was an award-winning plastic surgeon noted for her work with burn victims—and because of that, Laura had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth.
Not that you’d ever know it. Her sense of humor and humility were just two reasons why we had clicked when we met four years ago at the Red Cross. We’d been like sisters ever since.
“So, come on,” I said. “Spill it—you know that I’m dying here. How was your third date with Jack?”
“Look, it’s still early days, but all of it continues to look positive. Sure, he’s a dentist, which sounds dull as hell, but I’m telling you, Kate—that man has a quick wit, he happens to be built like a Roman god, and he’s smart. I think I might have met my match.”
“I really hope that you have,” I said.
“I’m about to find out in about two hours.”
“What does that mean?”
“Here comes Patrizia with your martini. Give me a minute to order for both of us, and then I’ll tell you about the after-lunch surprise I have in store for us.”
“You have an after-lunch surprise?”
“I do,” she said as Patrizia put my martini in front of me.
“Have you two knock-outs decided on what you’d like for lunch?” Patrizia asked us. “As if I don’t already know…”
“We have decided—and you do know. Two lasagnas, your lovely non-fattening breadsticks, and likely another martini for each of us—but after we’ve finished these.” Laura shot me a look. “Do you want an appetizer? Calamari?”
“I’m hungry, but not that hungry.”
“I’ll bring you some anyway,” Patrizia said. “It’s on me. You two have already brightened my day. And by the way, Laura, Ambra and Genoveffa send their love.”
“Give them a big smooch from me. I love all of you girls.”
When Patrizia stepped away, I looked at Laura. “What’s this about a surprise?”
“Is your afternoon free?”
“Yes, I freed it for you. I thought we might do some shopping or something.”
“Here’s the deal, and trust me on this—as wacky as it sounds, it’s going to be fun.”
“When you say words like ‘wacky,’ why do I want to toss back my martini…?”
“No idea. Anyway, the suspense is killing me. I need to know now where this is going with Jack before I get too involved with him. You know, should I protect my heart or just hand it over to him—that kind of thing. To find out, we’re going to see Rhoda Burns.”
“Who’s Rhoda Burns?”
“The psychic I’ve been seeing for the past three years.”
“The what?”
“You heard me. Stop judging.”
“Since when do you see a psychic? You’ve never mentioned that to me before.”
“We all have our secrets and idiosyncrasies,” Laura said lightly.
“I hope that she isn’t bilking you.”
“She isn’t.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Rhoda is the real thing. You’ll see. Because when Rhoda seeps her magical psychic powers into you, you won’t even know what hit you.”
“Oh, no, you didn’t…”
“Oh, yes, I did. I also made an appointment for you, which comes right after mine. And trust me on this—I’ve told Rhoda nothing about you.” She genuflected. “In fact, I swear to God that I haven’t—and I mean that. Zip! She doesn’t know who you are, where you came from, or what your story is—nada. This will be a clean reading. But just you watch—Rhoda is so good, it’s kind of scary. So, you know, you kind of need to be ready for that, because after lunch, shit’s going to get real.”
CHAPTER TWO
When we had finished our lunch and said goodbye to Patrizia, we stepped out into the bright sunshine where teems of people bustled past us on the busy sidewalk. The warm air felt heavenly. I was wearing dark skinny jeans, a white tank top, black heels—and for the first time in months, no jacket.
“You took a cab here, didn’t you?” Laura said.
“You know I did.”
“With all of your money, why don’t you have a driver?”
“Because it’s a waste of money.”
“I swear to God that it’s the second coming of Jackie O when it comes to you.”
“I hire a driver for special events.”
“Forever the frugal girl from Vermont! All right—we go to my car. I texted Rob ten minutes ago and there he is. So, come on—this drive and this psychic are on me. Let’s have some fun.”
“A limo?” I said as we stepped into the street. The driver remained behind the wheel as we hurried into the backseat, likely so he could step on it and prevent the inevitable blaring of horns. “Really? All of this for a psychic?”
“You know this is how I roll, Stone—so own it. And I’m telling you, Rhoda is going to blow your mind with the powers of the universe.”
I closed the door behind me and the limousine lurched forward. “I had no idea that you were such a hippie.”
“Hippie? What kind of hippie pays her toxes?”
“Her what?”
“My toxes.”
“What in the hell is that?”
She placed her hand on my arm. “Botox, lovey. Two days ago, Dr. McGill filled my face with it. I’m good to go for the next three months.” She winked at me. “Let’s just hope that Jack approves.”
“Let’s just hope that you can continue to wink.”
* * *
When we arrived at the storefront on Christopher Street, I looked out the window and up at the neon sign that was lit up in bright purple: ‘Psychic Readings by Rhoda.’
I turned to Laura. “I’m so sorry that it’s come to this for you…”
“Oh, just hush. It came to this years ago for me, when I first started seeing her. I never told you about it because I knew that you’d just make fun of it.” She leaned toward the driver. “We’ll let ourselves out, Rob. I’ll text you just before we’re ready to leave.”
“You’ve got it, Ms. Sanders.”
Laura looked at me. “Let’s do this shit!”
We stepped onto the sidewalk, and Laura took me by the hand, and led me inside a dimly lit space that naturally smelled of patchouli. Of course it did.
Ahead of us was a massive brass gong, which Laura approached and walloped with a thickly padded, ancient-looking stick of some sort. The sound that echoed from it was so loud, it reverberated throughout the small space—and also through me.
“You have to do that to call her,” Laura said.
“Do you?” I said with an arched brow. “How professional…”
“You and I both know that this gong is just a show for the tourists. Rhoda’s a smart businesswoman. You’ll see. And I’m telling you—she’s good.”
“Laura? Is that you?” a woman’s throaty voice boomed beyond the drawn red velvet curtains that hung just beyond the gong.
“That would be me! And I have my best friend with me. You know, the one I’ve told you absolutely nothing about.”
When Laura said that, the curtains parted to reveal a robust, happy-looking woman somewhere in her early thirties. And talk about a presence. Rhoda Burns had bright red hair pulled away from her forehead with the help of a black kerchief, zero makeup on her full face, and a smile that was genuine and filled with excitement—apparently to see Laura.
“You look fab,” she said to Laura.
“So do you.”
Rhoda was weari
ng a colorful, flowery skirt and a bright orange top that barely contained her massive breasts. She picked up the sides of her skirt and curtsied in front of Laura. “This old thing?” she said. “Bought it at Goodwill. Fifty cents, two years old—and I still love it.”
Laura lowered her voice. “Do you know who owned it?”
“Unfortunately, I do,” she said. “Dead, I’m afraid. Cancer. But her energy is good, and through her clothes alone, her spirit continues to live on.”
Oh, my God. Seriously, Laura?
“Rhoda, this is my best friend, Kate,” Laura said.
“No last names!” Rhoda cut in. “We have a deal here, one to be honored. I’m going to make Kate a believer yet!”
“It’s nice to meet you, Rhoda,” I said as I stepped forward and extended my hand. “Laura has been raving about you.”
When I spoke, something in Rhoda’s expression shifted. She looked at me for a moment before she brushed my hand aside, enveloped me in a hug, and said in my ear, “You poor, dear girl. I’m so very, very sorry.”
A chill ran through me. “Sorry for what?”
“We’ll discuss it later,” she said, looking shaken. “And soon, with the help of someone from your past, the three of us will get to the bottom of it. Let me tend to Laura first, and then you and I will talk.”
“Way to freak her out, Rhoda,” Laura said in an uneasy voice.
“I didn’t mean to.”
But as Rhoda Burns looked even deeper into my eyes, it was impossible not to see the horror reflected back at me.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, when Laura emerged from beyond the red curtain, she appeared at once pleased, distracted, and ill at ease.
“Looks like Jack’s getting another date,” she said.
“Well, that’s great,” I said as Rhoda also came through the curtain. “Maybe he’s the one. I want that for you, sweetie.”
“Kate,” she said in a concerned voice.
“It’s fine,” I reassured her as I stood up from the chair I was sitting in. “Let’s just say that Rhoda here has piqued my curiosity.”
“Are you sure that you want to go through with this?” Rhoda asked.
“With a reading, if that’s what this is? Sure.”
“Kate, I need to warn you that it’s going to be much more than that.”
“Then let’s see what that is.”
She glanced over at Laura. “You might want to have your friend with you.”
“Sure,” I said. “There isn’t much she doesn’t know about me, anyway.”
“There’s plenty she doesn’t know,” Rhoda said. “But nothing to be embarrassed about. I take privacy seriously, but in this case, I think you should bring her in with you. For support.”
For support? My skepticism was running so high at this point, I just went with it. This would take thirty minutes out of my day. Laura would be happy that I went along for the ride. And then, she and I could go and do something productive—like shopping.
“Then let’s do this.”
Rhoda held the curtain open for us, Laura and I stepped inside, and Rhoda followed suit. All of us sat down.
“I know that you’re just going through the motions with me, Kate,” Rhoda said. “And I get that. Because if I weren’t me, I’d be just as dismissive.”
Had I offended her? That’s not what I intended at all, and suddenly I felt horrible. “I’m sorry if I’ve been glib,” I said. “It’s just that I’ve never believed in anything like this. If I’ve offended you—and I think I have—I’m terribly sorry, Rhoda. That wasn’t my intent. I apologize.”
“You haven’t offended me—this happens all the time, Kate. Trust me. It’s always this way, particularly when someone who’s been seeing me for awhile decides to bring one of their friends along for a reading. Reluctance is involved. Lots of eye rolling. Humor. Tolerance. All of it. So, to get off on the right foot, I need to build trust between us, because we’re going to need a lot of that going forward. May I make some observations about you and your life?”
I got comfortable in my chair, and crossed my legs at the knee. “Of course.”
“In order for you to believe in me and whatever the hell this is that God has saddled me with—this ability to see things that nobody should ever be able to see—I’m going to start off soft, and then I’ll hit a bit harder. Are you OK with that?”
“I am.”
She leaned back in her chair and simply looked at me for a moment. “Your wall might be up, but it’s not up that high,” she said almost to herself.
“Sorry?”
She waved a hand in front of her face. “Nothing. Let’s start with something I’m certain you haven’t shared with Laura.”
“How can you be certain that I haven’t shared it with Laura?”
“Because it happened so long ago, and it’s inconsequential to you now—as it should be, I suppose. And also because I already know that you haven’t shared it with her. But right now, it’s flowing through you and straight into me.”
“What’s flowing?”
“Just so we’re clear, I see things,” she said. “Most of the things I see are spot-on, some of them come close, and a few are a complete miss. I’m not perfect when it comes to explaining what I see. Names, for instance—I’m terrible when it comes to them. Usually a letter or two off—you know, like Diane or Diana. That kind of thing. But situations? Defining moments in one’s life? Oh, I’m good when it comes to them. For instance, you were born a preemie. For six weeks, it was touch and go. But you’re a survivor, Kate. You always have been, and you pulled through. You went on to live.”
That was such a random fact about my life. I furrowed my brow at her. “How could you know that?”
She shrugged at me. “I’ve already told you—I don’t know.”
“But that was thirty-five years ago, and obviously it’s nothing that I remember happening. I just remember the stories my parents told me as I grew up.”
“I know that this can be unnerving,” Rhoda said. “We don’t need to go on, but I do think that we should—for a specific reason.”
“What reason?”
“We’re going to build toward that reason. First, it’s all about trust. Shall I go on?”
“Yes,” I said, more forcefully than I should have. The way I said it sounded to me like a dare. But she’d shaken me with the truth of my birth. How could she have known about any of that? I’d never shared it with Laura—why would I? So, I had to wonder what would come next.
“Do you want me to discuss your uncle?” she asked.
For a moment, I felt my whole body go tense, and then I tried to relax because I didn’t want to tip her off that anything might have happened to any of my uncles.
Even though she clearly knew otherwise.
But what does she know…?
“Which uncle?” I asked. “I have several.”
“I’ve already told you that I’m terrible when it comes to names, but I believe his name was either Will or Bill. I’m thinking Bill.”
No… I thought.
“Am I right?”
“You are.”
“But before I go on, I need to know whether you want Laura to hear this…”
“We have no secrets. Of course she can hear it.”
She hesitated before she said, “Your uncle committed suicide,” she said. “He shot himself in the head.”
I covered my mouth with my fingers as the horrific memory of his death crashed through me like a thunderbolt. My eyes welled with tears. I had loved my uncle. His depression had become so debilitating, and it was clear from the note he left behind that he just wanted out.
“I’m sorry, Kate.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, shaking.
“I don’t either. I wish I knew how I see the things that I see, but I don’t know. It’s just how it is. Sometimes it’s a burden, like it is now. Other times, it’s a gift, as it was moments ago with Laura when I told her that s
he should continue to see Jack, because I think he is the one. This is what I live with on a daily basis. I apologize for bringing up your uncle’s death, but I had to go there so you’d know that I’m the real thing—for better or worse.”
I wiped the tears from my eyes, and took the tissue Laura offered to me. “Earlier, you said that we needed to get to the bottom of something. What were you talking about?”
“I need you to be very strong for me right now, because I promise you that we will figure this out together—if you let me help you, which I want to do. I’ve already committed myself to that.”
“Help me how? And why do I need to be strong?”
“Because this is about your husband,” Rhoda said.
“Michael?”
“Yes.”
“What about him?”
“Laura, take her hand.”
“Rhoda,” Laura said with a warning tone to her voice. “Is this really necessary? You’ve upset Kate. I think we’ve gone far enough.”
I saw Rhoda’s eyes flick up to meet Laura’s. “That’s purely up to Kate.”
“We’ve gone this far, haven’t we?” I said. “So, what is it? What’s this about Michael?”
“His death was no accident.”
“Rhoda,” Laura said quickly. “Unless you’re absolutely certain about what you’re about to say, don’t you dare even go there.”
“But I am certain,” she said. “The energy is that strong. It’s left me rattled ever since Kate first spoke.”
Overwhelmed, I just looked at Rhoda. “What are you saying?”
“That Michael was murdered. And that what happened to him was vicious.”
CHAPTER THREE
For a moment, I sat in shock before rage took hold of me.
“You need to explain yourself now,” I said to Rhoda. “Right now. That’s a serious fucking allegation. Explain yourself.”
“Your husband didn’t trip over your dog, as you and the police were led to believe.”
She knows about Bruiser? How?
She closed her eyes. “Right now, I can see your old townhouse on Park,” she said. “And there’s the staircase your husband fell down.” She opened her eyes when she said that and corrected herself. “In fact, which he was shoved down.”
A Dangerous Widow (Dangerous #1) Page 3
