Young Ladies of Mystery Boxed Set

by Stacy Juba

  Dawn shivered, despite the warmth in the cafeteria. What other thoughts had Candace stolen?

  Chapter Eight

  Dawn hunched at the desk in her bedroom, scanning a web site about psychic skills. She scrolled down to a section on clairvoyance, defined as seeing beyond boundaries of time and space. That must be the visual sense that Serina discussed.

  Even the game of touching objects like photographs and hair clips had a name. Psychometry. Serina made it tougher by hiding the items in a box. An excited shiver twittered down Dawn’s neck. Serina valued her abilities so highly. If she could impress Serina, then maybe she really was talented.

  Dawn clicked on the next definition. Clairaudience: Hearing sounds like voices not emanating from visible sources in the immediate vicinity.

  The winter her father died, she'd heard his voice twice on days she sobbed until her lungs ached. He said three words – "It's okay, sweetheart."

  Dawn never took it seriously, assuming her dreams and wishes were playing tricks on her, but now a message from her father seemed like a real possibility. Her premonitions started soon after those experiences. Had the tragedy ignited something in her brain?

  Someone rapped on the door.

  She minimized the web page and brought up the main Google screen. "Come in!"

  Ken stepped inside and arched his eyebrows. He must be comparing it to his garage sale of a room. It figured, he had to visit the one time Dawn needed privacy.

  "What do you want?" Dawn forced a weak smile to cover her rudeness as Ken sat down on the bed and opened a notebook.

  "I don’t think you’re leveling with me about these feelings of yours," he said coolly. "I think they happen more often than you let on. I want to try something."

  "I was leveling with you," she said, her pulse rocketing. "What do you want to try?"

  He scrutinized her, his head cocked to one side. "Who do you like in the Patriots game next Sunday, the Pats or the Dolphins and by how much?"

  A laugh bubbled in Dawn’s throat. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t gambling.

  "What’s so funny?" Ken asked.

  "That you think I know anything about football. Are you serious?"

  "Just give me your feeling. If you get it right, I won’t ask any questions. If you’re wrong, no biggie. What do you think?" He poised his ballpoint on the page, encouraging her with a nod.

  "Does your dad know you’re gambling? Are you using a bookie? You can get in trouble with that."

  "Come on, you sound like my dad," Ken said, rolling his eyes. "This is the first time I’ve bet and it’s only because of you."

  "Look, I’m not psychic. I don’t—"

  "Let’s just call it a history of making good guesses. What’s your guess?"

  Dawn fingered a heart-shaped glass paperweight on the corner of her desk. She knew some kids at her old school who had gambled and lost big time, but if she didn’t go along with Ken, he might resent it.

  "I’m sure I’ll be wrong," Dawn said. "But do you have something I can hold that’s connected to the game? Like a picture of the teams?"

  "How about this?" Ken shot up to extend a small Sports Illustrated NFL schedule.

  She accepted it and closed her eyes. Running her fingers along the colored boxes, Dawn visualized a football field. The stands. The players. A scoreboard imprinted itself in her mind, followed by the Patriots patting each other on the back in their red, white and blue uniforms. "I think the Patriots will win, 38-17."

  "Are you sure? The Patriots are three-point underdogs."

  "Of course I’m not sure. Isn’t that what I’ve been telling you?" But she was sure, very sure. Rarely had Dawn summoned such a clear vision on command. As Serina had promised, the new techniques were giving Dawn control.

  Ken squinted at her for a long moment before scribbling in his notebook. "Okay, thanks. So how come you’re still hanging around Jamie and Candace? You haven’t needed a ride home in over a week. What’s up with that?"

  Dawn toyed with a container of paper clips near her keyboard. "I like them. We have fun."

  "Did you know Candace’s family is loaded? You can't tell by the way she dresses. Her dad is this hotshot surgeon."

  Candace had mentioned her father was a doctor, but hadn't elaborated. Somehow, that made Dawn like her more. She didn't parade her wealth.

  "Okay, so you don't like Candace," Dawn said. "What about Jamie? She's the sweetest person I've ever met." She didn’t add that Jamie had a huge crush on him. That would be a betrayal of confidence.

  He shrugged. "If you're friends with them, the other kids will make your life hell. That’s all I’m saying. You guys haven’t gone back to that fortuneteller again, have you?"

  "I told you, we just went once for fun," Dawn said quickly.

  "Good." Ken tapped his notebook with the pen. "Thanks for the guess. See you later."

  After he left her room, Dawn returned to the psychic web site, but the words clouded on the screen. She rubbed her tired eyes. Ken was right. Candace and Jamie weren’t helping her reputation, and visiting a palm reader rumored to be a devil worshipper could be dangerous. She was only taking Serina’s word that she had good intentions.

  But Dawn liked her new friends, and she wanted to see what else Serina had to offer. She had already learned so much in an incredibly short time.

  You don’t need Serina, her mental voice said. You only need to look within yourself.

  Dawn turned on the radio full blast, letting the music drown her inner doubts.

  ***

  The next morning at school, someone called to Dawn from down the corridor. "Dawn! Wait up."

  She stopped in mid-stride and turned around. Vicky halted before her, pretty face haggard. Other than a dab of lip gloss, she hadn't bothered with makeup. Dawn supposed lip gloss wouldn't smudge when she cried.

  "I’m sorry Tim’s giving you a hard time," Vicky said. "I know he and his friends can be a pain. He's not as mean as you think, or I wouldn't be with him. It's his stupid friends that get him going."

  "He's not that bad, really, but thanks. Renee's worse."

  "No kidding. I've seen you hanging out with my sister. How did you get to be friends?"

  "We're in a couple classes together. I just found out you were sisters. You're not very much alike."

  "Candace complains about me a lot. It's too bad. We used to be close." Vicky raised herself on her tiptoes and searched both sides of the corridor. She turned back with a strange, fearful expression.

  "You should know that Candace can be mean," she whispered. "I shouldn't be saying this, but I don't want to see you hurt."

  "I won't get hurt," Dawn said, mystified.

  "Does Candace know you predicted Scott's death?"

  Dawn checked out the hallway, too. If Candace discovered they were talking this way, it would infuriate her.

  "I don’t know. Why?"

  "Nothing. Forget it." Vicky walked away, faltered and looked back. "Just be careful," she mouthed.

  Dawn considered the warning as Candace drove to Jamie's home after school. Serina had a psychic reading that afternoon so the girls had decided to do Jamie’s makeover. Dawn tried to focus on the upcoming transformation, but Vicky’s words ran through her head.

  Dawn sat up a little straighter. What if Candace was tuning into her thoughts right now? Her friend seemed as if she was just concentrating on the road, but still, you never knew. Come on, think of the makeover, Dawn urged herself. Jamie would look great with brown eye shadow and a hair trim.

  A few minutes later, Candace parked the car at a campground. Dawn estimated about seventy five trailers were crammed on the grass, some with flower pots and welcome signs brightening the outside, others sparse.

  Jamie led them over to a trailer with faded yellow curtains, bleached from the sun. Unlike most of the others, this one didn't have a car parked alongside.

  "My mother’s hardly ever home. That's why I thought this would be a go
od place to do the makeover. We can have privacy." Jamie rooted into her jeans pocket for her key.

  "Sounds good to me," Candace answered.

  They climbed the steps into a living room that held the invisible tinge of cigarette smoke. Jamie tossed her bag onto a fake leather couch. A chest of drawers had been built into the wood paneling, one drawer hanging out partway, revealing a stack of dishes.

  Dawn squeezed into the narrow dinette, where an oven, microwave, toaster and refrigerator cluttered the cramped quarters. She floundered for a compliment. "This is cool. I’ve never been inside a trailer before."

  Jamie grabbed a half-eaten bowl of soggy Cheerios off the table and dropped it into the sink. "Don’t worry, I know it’s lousy," she said flatly. "Come on, let’s do the makeover."

  She and Dawn barely fit into the bathroom to experiment with the new makeup. Jamie sat on the toilet lid while Dawn hovered over her, rubbing blush across her friend’s cheeks.

  "This looks great," Dawn said. "I want to trim your hair, too."

  "Sure you don’t want a nose ring?" Candace called from Jamie’s bedroom. "How about a belly button ring? I know a guy who can pierce you cheap."

  Jamie laughed, more relaxed than she had seemed earlier. "If my mother hadn’t gotten my ears pierced when I was a baby, I wouldn’t have even done that."

  As Dawn was penciling green eyeliner under her friend’s lashes, the front door banged shut.

  "Jamie? Jamie, where are you?" called a strident voice. "I've got tons of groceries."

  "Oh, no. That's my mother." Jamie hopped up from the toilet and stashed the supplies under the sink as if they’d been shooting heroin instead of doing a makeover. She flew out to the living room, Dawn and Candace close behind.

  Jamie's mother hoisted a paper bag into the trailer, her high heels clicking across the linoleum. She could have been a teenager herself with her long bleached strawberry blonde curls, tight red sweater and denim miniskirt, until Dawn saw the hard lines of her face. Candace stepped back, bumping into Dawn.

  "Well, well, well," drawled Jamie’s mother, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray. "You have company. What's the occasion?"

  "These are my friends, Dawn and Candace. This is my mother, Pauline."

  Pauline peered into her daughter's eyes and chortled. "Are you wearing makeup? I don't believe it. Who's the guy?"

  Jamie busied herself inspecting the contents of a paper bag. "There's no guy. I just want to look better."

  "Since when? I've been telling you to do something with yourself for years." Pauline shook her head at Dawn and Candace.

  Dawn wanted to yank off Pauline's glossy red fake fingernails. Candace stirred beside Dawn. Evidently, they shared the same thoughts.

  Pauline lifted a package of Doritos out of a paper bag, sweater creeping up from her skirt, showing off her belly button. She piled beer bottles, cigarettes and Wonder Bread on the table. "Come on, Jamie, get the rest of the stuff. Don’t expect me home early. I’ve got a date."

  Ten minutes later, Pauline’s sedan squealed out of the parking lot. Jamie collapsed on the couch in exhaustion. "Sorry. At least she didn’t stay long."

  Dawn picked up a box of cigarettes from the cushion and absently flipped it back and forth. Something had been hammering at the fringes of her memory. "You know something? Your mother reminds me of my grandmother. I’ve only met her once, but my mom’s told me about her."

  Now Dawn understood why her mother obsessed about her having a carefree life full of friends. But at the same time, having a difficult childhood should have made her more tolerant of a daughter who didn’t fit in.

  "Serina's right. Just because you share the same blood doesn't make someone family." Candace squeezed beside Jamie on the sagging couch.

  "How did I survive without you guys?" Jamie asked. "And Serina."

  "Serina saved me, too," Candace said. "I don't know what I'd do without her."

  Dawn knew she should join in, but somehow their devotion worried her. Serina had gained their utmost loyalty. Candace and Jamie would do anything for their mentor. Dawn didn't know why that bothered her. But it did.

  Chapter Nine

  The next afternoon, the girls waited in the foyer as Serina finished with a client. Dawn sometimes forgot Serina ran a business as she reserved so much time just for them.

  Jamie peered through the sheer curtain into the sitting room. "He's totally good-looking," she whispered.

  "Too sleazy for me," Dawn murmured back.

  The man looked like a Wall Street bigwig with his pinstriped gray suit, silk tie and gold Rolex. His black BMW took up most of the driveway. Either he knew his stuff, or Serina had steered him right more than once.

  "He's been coming to Serina for financial advice every month since she opened," Candace said in a low tone. "He's got a crush on her."

  "Every month?" Dawn asked. "Isn’t that a little much?"

  They heard the rustle of movement, chairs pushed back, people rising. "How about dinner, Serina?" the man asked.

  Candace pretended to gag.

  "You know I don't get personally involved with clients," Serina answered with a laugh.

  "Come on, we can get married, go to Las Vegas and hit the Roulette tables. With you on my side, we'll walk out with millions."

  "Then what?" Her voice sounded light, flirting, not like Serina at all.

  "We'll go to Bermuda and live on a yacht."

  "Sorry, I'd better stay your consultant. I don't like boats."

  He sighed. "I'll keep trying. You're my good luck charm, after all."

  The client winked at Dawn on the way out. He was a hunky blond in his late thirties with the tan of a California surfer. "Convince her for me, ladies. Maine gets cold in the winter."

  "We’ll try!" Jamie called after him.

  Dawn stared at his retreating back. A cute successful guy wanted to date a psychic? Maybe there was hope for her own social life after all.

  They gathered in the next room, Dawn and Jamie drifting to the loveseat and Candace to the meditation chair. Serina wrapped her tarot cards in a black silk cloth and slid them in her antique wooden box.

  "Does that guy really come every month?" Dawn asked. "Isn’t that being too dependent on you?"

  "Of course not," Serina said. "He simply realizes the benefit of spiritual guidance."

  Dawn hoped she wasn’t offending Serina, but curiosity made her plunge ahead. "Wouldn’t once or twice per year be enough? If he sees you every single month, it’s like he’s afraid to make decisions himself."

  "Dawn, let me be blunt. It isn’t easy making your living as a psychic. If someone wants to see you every month, you take the money. Then everybody’s happy." Serina smiled, softening the edge to her words.

  Dawn nodded, unconvinced. Wasn’t it a psychic’s responsibility to offer what she saw or felt, while helping people trust their own intuition?

  "That man was gorgeous," Jamie said. "Why don't you go out with him?"

  Serina chuckled as she got up and poured herself a cup of tea. "If it doesn't work out, then I'll lose one of my best customers."

  "Don't you get lonely? Don't you want to get married?"

  "I prefer being self-sufficient. Perhaps soon you'll have guys begging for a date, too. Your new makeup and haircut is flattering."

  Jamie did look better, Dawn thought. Her shoulder-length locks fell with more life now that she was using styling mousse and the right shampoo. Coppery lipstick, blush and a shimmer of eye shadow brightened her pale face. Unfortunately, the acne medication hadn’t worked miracles, but Jamie had blended foundation and a cover-up stick like Dawn advised.

  She needed a new wardrobe, though, her shapeless sweater deflating the effects of the makeover. Dawn would have lent her clothes, but Jamie was skinnier and shorter.

  Jamie pushed back her hair. "Dawn and Candace helped."

  "I'm glad to see you're working as a team." Serina leaned beside Dawn on the arm of the loveseat, cradling her cup. Daw
n angled her legs slightly in the other direction, the fragrance of Serina’s rose perfume impregnating the air. It smelled pleasant enough, but it was too close, infringing on Dawn’s space.

  "I understand Candace and Dawn paid a visit to your home," Serina was saying to Jamie.

  "It's not much of a home, but yeah," Jamie said.

  "Candace says your mother doesn't deserve a daughter like you."

  "She's not all bad. She's just..."

  "Selfish," Candace cut in. "It's okay to say it."

  "You can love your mother, she brought you into the world, but you don't have to be grateful for more than that," Serina said. "You don’t need her approval. Know that when she disappoints you, we'll be here."

  Hair bristled on Dawn’s arms. Serina sounded like a cult leader. Dawn struggled to quiet her thoughts so Serina or Candace didn’t pick up on them.

  "I'm glad you're seeing each other's different environments. You'll appreciate one another more." Serina changed to her teaching voice. "Today, we're going to talk about chakras, spiraling energy centers on your etheric body. We have seven chakras leading from the base of our spine to the top of our heads. Chakra is a Sanskrit word meaning ‘wheel,’ and an imbalance in one of these energy centers will cause disharmony on body, mind, spirit and emotional levels."

  Serina hopped off the armrest and crossed over to her table in the corner. Involuntarily, Dawn exhaled. Although the perfume scent lingered, the room seemed bigger without Serina parked beside her.

  "The most important chakra to you girls is the sixth chakra, or the third eye," Serina said, setting down her tea. "It’s the point between the eyebrows in the center of the forehead. Its development brings about clairvoyant abilities because this chakra is the center for intuition and the link from which we perceive the higher planes. Dawn, you’ve never received guidance on how to use your clairvoyance efficiently so I’m sure you have imbalances. Physical symptoms of a blocked sixth chakra might include headaches, blurred vision and eyestrain."