by Lena Gregory
“What’s going on in here?” The booming voice froze Cass mid-bite.
7
Chief Langdon strode down the center aisle toward them. “I asked you, what’s going on in here?”
“Uh . . .” Cass grabbed the bag from the podium and held it out to him. “Cannoli ball?”
Bee hissed under his breath but moved closer to Cass.
“Shh . . .” Cass licked sugar from her lips.
Chief Langdon ignored her and climbed the side steps to the stage, his cowboy boots clunking loudly against the hardwood.
Uh . . . oh.
“You shouldn’t be on the stage with those boots on. You’re going to scratch the wood.”
Ugh . . . Bee. Will you shut up?
Chief Langdon stopped when he reached them and stood, hands on his hips, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Anger poured from him.
Cass cringed.
“I asked you a question. What are you three doing in here?”
Cass met his gaze. “We just stopped by to measure the stage so I can draw up the design for the fashion show.” She forced her eyes to remain focused on him, not wanting to look suspicious by letting her gaze drop, or even worse, dart around.
“This theater is closed until further notice, as indicated by the sign that was posted on the door.”
Look at his eyes, look at his eyes . . . “What sign?” She’d kill Bee for taking it down later. For now, she had to get through this conversation with Langdon.
“Let’s not play games, Ms. Donovan.”
Ms. Donovan? He only called her Ms. Donovan when she was in serious trouble. Great. “Look, Chief. I have a reading scheduled in a little while, so all I want to do is take my measurements and go.”
“What’s the big rush? Did you not receive the notice from the board of directors saying the date for the show would have to be changed?” He rubbed at the back of his neck and glanced around the empty stage.
“You can’t do that, Chief.” Cass wanted to cower at the look he pinned her with, but she held her ground. “Bee has worked so hard on this. It’s not fair to change the date at the last minute. I don’t understand what the problem is.” Heat crept up the back of Cass’s neck as the volume of her voice increased. She bit her tongue. No sense reminding him the reason they no longer needed the date changed was because the director of the conflicting program had been found dead. In the theater. By Cass. Ah jeez . . .
The chief put up a hand. “It’s not my decision. The board voted, and they decided to honor the change.” He shrugged nonchalantly, as if he had no involvement in the decision.
Cass opened her mouth, but Stephanie intervened before she could launch into a temper-fueled tirade. “Chief, the board meeting isn’t until next month. Isn’t there any way we can go before them sooner and ask them to retract the decision?”
“You all seem to be forgetting one small factor.” His eyes narrowed on Cass. “The board no longer has a president.”
Cass swallowed hard. Guilt tugged at her. Not because she had anything to do with Marge, but because it felt as if his gaze bored through to her very soul, witnessing everything she had ever done wrong. If Bee hadn’t stepped in front of her and interrupted, she might have blurted a confession to every sin she’d ever committed.
“As much as Ms. Hawkins will be missed, I’m sure the board will elect an interim president. The show must go on and all that nonsense.” Bee waved a hand dramatically.
Chief Langdon continued to stare as if not sure what to make of the other man. That was a pretty standard reaction to Bee, even when you’d known him for a while.
Stephanie forged on before Langdon could object. “You know, ticket sales from these productions pay the rent on the theater. If we’re forced to cancel the fashion show, well . . . that show does bring in a lot of money.” She shrugged, then turned to Bee. “You know, Bee, it might be easier to change the venue instead of the date. The hotel probably has a ballroom open.”
Bee paled and opened his mouth, but Cass discreetly pinched his arm.
Langdon ran a hand over his thinning hair. “Fine. If you can find a board member to initiate a meeting, we’ll consider your arguments. In the meantime, get out of here. Now.”
“All right. Thank you.” Stephanie jumped in front of Bee before he could say anything.
A deep shade of purple crawled up Langdon’s cheeks, and a large vein throbbed at his temple. He turned to walk away but glanced back at Bee. “By the way, you might want to put a plan in place for who’s going to take Cass’s place if the trial date comes before the fashion show.”
Cass froze as a chill ran down her spine.
* * *
“Don’t worry about it, Cass. I told you, he’s just trying to scare you.” Bee squeezed her shoulder, then brushed past her to greet the guests who’d begun to enter Mystical Musings. He lifted the wind chimes from their hook above the door and set them aside, then shot her a sheepish grin. Listening to them sound thirty or more times would probably be a bit much.
“Everything is pretty much ready.” Stephanie handed Cass a cup of tea.
“Thanks.” She surveyed the small shop. The table had been pushed to the far corner, and some of the display cases had been moved to the back room, which was actually a small room at the side of the shop, blocked off by a curtain. She hoped to seat as many people as possible, so they’d set up three more tables. “I really appreciate you guys helping out.”
“No problem. You know I love this stuff.” Stephanie snorted. “Poor Bee, though.” She glanced at Bee, then shot Cass a conspiratorial grin. “You know how he feels about your ‘hocus-pocus, mumbo jumbo.’”
The short burst of laughter was just what she needed. Stephanie was right. Bee stayed far away from anything to do with Mystical Musings, psychic powers, contacting the dead . . .
Not that he believed in any of that nonsense, of course.
Bee waved at Stephanie.
“Looks like he needs help.” She started toward him but glanced back over her shoulder and giggled. “Or maybe he just got spooked.”
Stephanie and Bee pulled folding chairs from the back room, handed out foam cups filled with tea and coffee, and placed a tray of cookies in the center of each table. Their efforts to make everyone comfortable paid off, and a steady stream of relaxed chatter filled the room.
Cass busied herself behind the counter, rearranging perfectly aligned gemstones into small clusters in the glass display case, not quite ready to interact with anyone yet.
She didn’t really believe the stones did anything magical, but her customers loved them. Years of psychiatric training had taught her the incredible power of the mind, but she still found it fascinating people could talk themselves into believing a bag of rocks cured their ailments. But they made people happy and, however they worked, they made people feel better, and that was all that mattered to Cass.
A woman entered the shop and approached the counter.
Although she looked familiar, Cass couldn’t quite place her. One of the guests? “Can I help you?”
“Hi. I’d like to have a reading.” The woman fidgeted, twirling a long strand of blond hair around her finger, obviously nervous.
“I’m sorry. We’re closed today for a private group reading, but if you’d like to come in tomorrow, I’d be more than happy to do a reading.”
Her hand fluttered to her chest. “Oh, of course. I’m so sorry. Tomorrow would be great.”
Cass pulled her appointment book from beneath the counter, opened it, and skimmed through her readings for the day. “Would three o’clock be okay?”
“Perfect.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“Carmen.”
Cass scribbled her name in the book, then grabbed a business card from the holder on the counter, jotted down the date and time
of her appointment, and handed it to the woman.
“Hey, Cass.”
She glanced over at Stephanie, who was gesturing wildly for her to join them.
Cass smiled and ushered Carmen toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Regret tugged at her. Maybe she should call her back and do the reading to avoid dealing with her own insecurities a little longer.
Although Cass usually enjoyed interacting with people, her nerves were getting the better of her. Did any of them think she was actually guilty? She kept the groan to herself—the sound would echo through the room if she let it escape—and joined the small crowd.
“How are you holding up, Cass?” A warm hand slid up and down her arm, and Cass looked into large, brown, sympathetic eyes. Sara Ryan, whose daughter Jess would be wearing the yellow dress in the fashion show, eyed her warily, as if she might crumble under the strain at any moment.
“I’m doing okay, thank you.” She returned the woman’s wary smile and risked a quick search of the other faces gathered.
Their expressions ranged from sympathy, to wariness, to curiosity, but not a single one held suspicion. A tear formed at the corner of Cass’s eye, and she reached up to wipe it away. Sara squeezed her arm in a silent gesture of support and then moved to take an empty seat.
“Well, I for one think it’s ridiculous Cass is a suspect.” The voice came from the back of the crowd, but a low rumble of agreement quickly surged through the room.
Cass scanned the crowd, relieved the other thirty or so people also offered their support. Emmett Marx leaned against a case toward the back, nodding in agreement. Cass’s gaze skimmed over him at first but was pulled back when she noticed he glanced furtively around, his gaze darting rapidly from one person to the next. She might have dismissed his sneaky demeanor if he didn’t own the garage where Jay Callahan worked. He wiped a sleeve across his forehead and finally settled on looking at the floor. Now wasn’t the time, but she’d definitely seek him out at the first opportunity and see if he knew anything.
Stephanie stood, cutting off any more talk about Cass’s predicament.
Cass breathed a sigh of relief and stepped back. While she leaned against the counter, waiting for her turn, she continued to watch Emmett discreetly.
Even though most of the guests had attended group readings before, Stephanie would go through an explanation of how things worked and answer any questions before she introduced Cass.
Bee perched on a stool beside her and leaned close. “What’s the deal with Emmett?”
Okay, maybe she wasn’t as discreet as she’d thought. “What do you mean?”
“Oh please, honey. You haven’t taken your eyes off him. And in case you hadn’t noticed, he’s sweating like a pig in a slaughterhouse.”
She turned to look at Bee. “You noticed that, too? I thought maybe it was just me.”
“Nah. Something’s weird.”
Cass glanced back toward the guests to assure herself no one was listening, and sucked in a breath. Emmett’s spot was empty. Where could he possibly have gone that quickly? She started toward the door.
“Cass?”
She glanced back over her shoulder at Stephanie. Uh-oh. Had Stephanie already introduced her?
“Go. I’ll take care of it.” Bee brushed past her and headed for the door.
Cass reluctantly took her place facing the group. “All right.” She struggled to bring her mind back to the reading. The group readings she offered one Sunday each month had become very popular with the locals. Whether it was more of a social gathering than an actual psychic event, she had no idea, but every month a few more people attended. Soon she’d have to either limit the number of guests or open a second reading each month.
“As most of you already know, a group reading is different from an individual reading.”
Movement at the door pulled her attention. Bee slid back into the room and shook his head. He leaned his back against the wall and folded his arms.
Hmmm . . . weird. Where could Emmett have possibly disappeared to? He’d attended every group since she started and was usually one of the last to leave.
“I can’t target any specific person in the group. I simply relay the messages as I receive them.”
Bee rolled his eyes, and Cass bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning.
She searched the crowed as she spoke, calling on her training and her instincts to guide her.
A young woman toward the back nervously twisted her fingers, worry filling her eyes.
“You’re upset,” Cass said to the woman.
“I’m sorry. I . . .” She pulled a tissue from her bag and wiped a tear.
“No need to be sorry.”
The man seated next to her had already attended several readings, and he stood when Cass approached and offered his seat.
Cass nodded a thank-you and sat facing the woman. She gripped one of her hands.
A sense of loss emanated from her. Not the deep, grief-filled loss of losing someone you love, but still loss. “You’ve lost something important to you.”
She sucked in a breath. “Yes. How did you know?”
Cass ignored the question. Now to figure out what she’d lost and where she’d lost it. “When was the last time you remember seeing it?”
“Well, I remember wearing it to my sister’s wedding.”
Okay. What would she have worn and lost? Probably a piece of jewelry. “What else did you wear to the wedding?”
The woman frowned. “I had it pinned to my blue dress.” Her free hand fluttered to her chest.
Bingo. “Do you remember seeing the brooch after the wedding?”
She gasped as if Cass had done something incredible. “How did you know? I have to find it. My mother left it to me, and I’ll be devastated if I can’t find it.”
“Don’t worry. She’ll help you find it. You just have to think back and listen for guidance while you look. Can you remember taking it off after the wedding?”
In her mind, Bee was rolling his eyes again. She resisted the urge to look at him and confirm her suspicion.
“We stayed at my sister’s that night, and I was afraid I’d forget it, so I left it pinned to the dress. I remember that.” Her eyebrows drew together in concentration.
Cass waited.
“When I went to drop it off at the dry cleaners on my way home the next day, the brooch was still on it. They took it off and handed it to me, and I put it in the zipper compartment of my purse. At least I thought I did. But now it’s gone.”
Cass closed her eyes, partially for dramatic effect and partially to help her concentrate. She blocked out the small sounds people made even in silence. A cough, a sniff, the rustling of clothing as someone shifted position. Where could the brooch have gone? Cass thought about her own bag, so filled with stuff she could hardly find anything, and yet she always knew what was in there. Unless she cleaned it out or switched bags. Then she tossed things and forgot she’d taken them out. Wouldn’t you switch purses for a wedding? Maybe take something smaller that matched your dress? Had she still been using that purse when she went to the cleaners the next day?
Cass opened her eyes.
The woman was staring at her, lower lip caught between her teeth.
“Is that the purse you had when you went to the cleaners?”
“Yes, I’ve had this purse for—” Her eyes went wide, and she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh no.” She lowered her hand. “I never went home before I dropped the dress off. I still had my black clutch from the wedding. It’s in there.” The woman threw her arms around Cass, and a smattering of applause broke out. “How can I ever thank you?”
Heat crept into Cass’s cheeks. “I’m just happy I could help.” She stood, and the man who’d given up his seat patted her back as he returned to his seat.
She continued
through the crowd, seeking out the people who seemed to need her attention the most. An old woman who missed her husband and wanted to say hello. A young woman who wanted to know if she was going to have a boy or a girl. From the way her stomach protruded straight out in front, but the rest of her seemed stick thin, Cass had guessed a boy. A young man who’d blushed adorably while he asked if Cass thought his girlfriend would say yes to his proposal. Who could say no to such a sweet kid?
When the allotted time ended, Cass thanked everyone for coming and invited them to hang around as long as they’d like. Hopefully, some of them would shop while they chatted.
She moved toward Bee as everyone stood and began collecting their things and mingling.
“Poor thing . . . sorry for Ellie . . .” Bits and pieces of a discussion stopped her.
“Have you seen Ellie?” Cass joined Sara Ryan and another woman she didn’t recognize.
“No. As far as I know, no one’s seen her since her mother was killed.” Sara shook her head and leaned closer to Cass. “Rumor has it, she went a little nuts when she found out, but that’s all I’ve heard.”
The other woman jumped in, making no attempt to lower her voice. “And that no-good husband of hers was running around town with some blonde all weekend.”
Sara’s eyes widened. “Really, where’d you hear that?”
The woman settled back, obviously excited to have gossip to share. “I saw them. I was walking into town the other day, and Jay flew past me, way too fast, mind you, driving a black car with a woman sitting in the front.”
“Are you sure it was him?”
Cass thought briefly about confirming the woman’s suspicions, but her fondness and concern for Ellie held her tongue. A flicker of memory surfaced of the blonde practically sitting in Jay’s lap. Was it the same woman who’d come in a little while ago for a reading? Her concentration faltered. She couldn’t be sure.
“I was pretty sure it was Jay, but then I saw them again later getting into the car in the parking lot at the Bay Side Hotel.”
