by Tonya Kappes
I glance at the photo wedged between me and the seat to make sure I’ve got the right guy. Yep, positive. The slightly turned front tooth is a dead give-a-way as his lips turn up in a smile.
The steering wheel jabs my breastbone as I lean into it. Surely I misread his aura, I make my eyes to go out of focus and scan his profile as he picks Belle up. The overwhelming lavender confirms there is no way he killed Dabi. He couldn’t kill a fly. I’d bet money on it.
With a groan, I get out of the car. Maybe my aura reading is a little rusty.
He puts the Belle back down and steps up on the curb away from my car. “Every morning Belle meets all her friends at the park,” he explains.
He’s much taller than I envisioned him from his picture. Dabi sent a photo from the chest up and definitely a few years old. His hair is much shorter and he’s not as preppy in person.
I can see why Dabi’s dad wouldn’t approve. I’m positive he would prefer the clean cut type, not the disheveled Orlando Bloom look that Michael seems to favor. Plus the little tuft of hair under his lip makes him appear to be more of a bad boy than he really is. He’s not fooling me. Or should I say his aura’s not.
“Funny name for a man’s dog.” I want to get some answers and fast.
“My girlfriend, er, ex, er, dead ex girlfriend gave her to me.” The look on my face must’ve said all the words swirling around in my head. “My girlfriend broke up with me and then turned up murdered.”
His face turns solemn. He reminds me of the guys who cry during Barbara Walter’s interviews. Nonetheless, I still don’t let my defense down.
“Hh!” I gasp out loud. I can’t believe he’s just unloaded on me—a perfect stranger. What else will he tell me?
“What?” He stands up tall, and jabs a finger at me. “No, hell no. I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Well I’m thinking it.” I take a step back closer to my car. If he’s willing to talk about it, I’m willing to ask. “You don’t run into someone who tells you their girlfriend broke up with them and then she’s murdered. Are you a suspect?”
I want to tell him anyone with a lavender aura couldn’t kill a spider, but I don’t I stay on guard.
“I don’t think so. At least no one’s come to see me.” He looks off into the distance. “I have my suspicions, but I’ll leave it up to the police.” His eyes dip. “Do I know you?”
Shit! Shit!
“A…no.” I change back to my girly voice and open my car door to retrieve my phone. I have to change the subject. I quickly dial Erin’s phone number. “I walk the park.”
“I swear I’ve heard your voice.” Michael inquisitively looks me over. Now I know it’s time to get out of here. If he recognizes me as Jenn from Splitsville.com, he’ll know this isn’t a coincidental meeting.
“Hi, I need you to pick me up at Pleasant Ridge Park.” Erin tries to ask questions as to why I’m out at 7:30 in the morning when I never get up any earlier than 10 a.m. “I’ll explain when you get here. Come now.”
I turn back around coming face to face with Michael.
“I swear I know you.” His eyes narrow and he scratches his head. “But where?”
“No, nope you don’t.” I shake my head. God Erin, hurry up. I rock back and forth on my heels out of nervousness and look side to side for any sign of Erin’s car.
“Where do you work?”
“Daycare,” I blurt out the only job I’ve never tried. All those little auras running around would give me vertigo. I wouldn’t last a day.
“Hmm.” Michael rubs his chin like he isn’t buying it. “So you’ve got a ride?”
Relief flows through my veins as slick as blood. “Yes. I’m just going to wait inside.” I open my door.
“One more question.” My stomach churns when I turn back to face him. He points to Belle who’s biting my feet. “Do you always come to the park in pink fuzzy slippers?”
I look down, flustered. Sure enough, my toes wiggle inside the fluffy slippers. “Uh, um. . .good-bye,” I blurt out and shut the door on him. I don’t have to answer him.
I did what I came to do. Read his aura. I’m just glad it’s telling me he’s not Dabi’s murderer. I turn back to look at Michael walking to the park as if everything with the world is okay.
***
“God what took you so long?” I grit my teeth.
She doesn’t answer.
“You okay?” I ask Erin once I gather all my stuff from my car and put it in hers. “Are you mad that I woke you up?”
“No,” she finally says. She starts driving, her hands gripping the steering wheel. “Kent and I had a fight last night.”
I seize the opening. “Well, his aura. . .”
“Don’t start with that aura stuff Olivia. I’m not in the mood. His aura is fine.” She tears up. Her voice breaks, then she says, “We went out for a drink last night. I came out of the bar bathroom and this girl. . .this girl said something about him only dating women for their money. Then she slapped him!”
“For their money?” I’m not really surprised. It’s the story of Erin’s life. Though I wish I was wrong. That explains a lot of Kent’s aura color and changes.
She stops at the red light, turns to me with furrowed brows and says, “Don’t even think he’s dating me because of my money. That’s what he wanted to talk to me about when we left the Spring Fling.” She speeds the car up.
I’m cautious with the words I chose. “So initially he sought you out because of your money and then changed?” Yea, right! If only she’d listen to what I see.
Erin’s quiet personality begins to seep through and a tear trickles down her cheek.
“That’s what the fight was about. He said he wasn’t a grifter anymore and was trying to change his ways.” Her sad eyes want to believe him and every word he says. “I just don’t understand why a man would do something like that.”
I do. I break up with on people on Splitsville.com for this same reason. Only Kent seems to be dating women for their money as a job. I think about the dumpee Mac. Carla dumped him for being a freeloader. It's an epidemic. What happened to the man taking care of the woman?
“Erin, you’re better than these guys. You’ll find someone better than Kent.”
Erin’s jaw clinches. “I thought he was different,” she says. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
It’s silent in the car for a few minutes until she finally says, “I didn’t even ask you why you were at Pleasant Ridge Park.” She sits sideways in her seat after she parks in my driveway. I guess we are done talking about Kent.
“Listen, I don’t have time to talk about it now, but how about lunch later today?” I want to get inside to my file about Michael Schultz and write down everything he said before I forget.
“I don’t really feel like lunch.” Erin is the type who doesn’t eat when she’s depressed. Me on the other hand, I’d wolf down the couch if it was the only thing left in the house. “Let’s do it tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I have to let her off easy or she’ll completely shut down on me. “But if you need me, promise you’ll call.”
She nods quietly as I get out of the car. And of course I know she won’t call.
Eight
The old red and white Chevy of Aunt Matilda’s in the driveway is a pleasant sight.
“Hello?” I scream into the quiet house.
I toss my keys in the pile of papers on the kitchen counter. Aunt Matilda comes out with a basket full of clothes in her hand. I call the local tow company and leave a message on their machine where to pick up my car. They know my ‘95 Toyota better than I do. It won’t be a surprise to them to get my message. They will be surprised at the part of town, seeing I try to avoid the southside as much as possible. Especially since I went looking for juevy and my mom there so many years ago.
“Where have you been?” Aunt Matilda asks suspiciously as she dumps the clothes on the couch and starts folding.
I wo
n’t be able to keep much from her for long. She can read me like a book—always has, always will.
“I had to run a couple errands before I take coffee to Bradley at the SPCA. Can I borrow your truck? My car broke down this morning.” I smile and dismiss her cautious eyes.
She stares at me like she’s waiting for the right answer.
I break the silence. “You don’t have to do my laundry.” I notice she has completely picked up all my clothes off the floor, couch, lamps and tables.
Even though it’s a big help, I don’t want her to feel like she’s still raising me.
“I think it’s high time you started to keep a house.” She gestures around the room. I was hoping she didn’t pick up on that little detail.
I snort. Doesn’t she realize that is the last thing I want to do, or the last thing on my mind is keeping house.
“You do, do you?” I walk in the kitchen and pour myself a mug from the coffee she must’ve made and continue back to the bedroom as I ignore her pouring over the clothes on the couch. I yell over my shoulder, “I went for a walk. Seriously Aunt Matilda, I will clean my clothes. Just leave the basket there. You should go out with some friends. Or on a date.”
I throw it out there. She definitely needs to get out more, a little adult companionship. I frown thinking about seeing her lonely truck parked off Main Street last night.
She doesn’t even flinch. “I’ve given up on men. Since when do you walk?” She’s not going to let this morning’s episode alone.
“Since I need exercise.” I stop and realize I’m going to have to answer questions I don’t want to. I walk back down the hall to be interrogated.
“And you don’t wear tennis shoes?” Her eyes look down at my fuzzy pink slippers.
Leave it to my palm-reading Aunt Matilda to notice every inch of me. “It’s all about comfort.” I know she’s trying to bait me.
“So. . .” she follows me back down the hall and asks, “Where did you go to walk? Why not walk outside on your sidewalk?”
“All right.” I turn around and almost bump into her. “I went to Pleasant Ridge Park.”
“Pleasant Ridge Park?” She’s holding the laundry basket full of clothes. “Is that where your car is?”
It’s not the closest park, but it is the park Michael frequents.
“Please leave the laundry.” I set my coffee on my nightstand and take the basket from her. I dump it on the pile of clothes already on my bed. I pick up my mug and take a sip, hoping she’ll stop questioning me. “Pleasant Ridge Park.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got nothing better to do, except to find out who DS is in your journal.” She walks out of my room and down the hall.
I almost choke on my coffee. I immediately turn, and rush back to her. “Give it over. You can’t just read people’s private journals!”
“Not until you tell me what you are up to.” I can see the journal in her hand behind her back. “I know how your personality changes when you use your gift and I want to know what you’re looking for.”
“Give it to me.” I hold out on her, but I know good and well she’s going to win. She’s relentless and knows me better than anyone. She plays hardball.
“Start talking or I won’t let you use my truck.”
“Fine.” For free is a bargain, so I spew like a volcano. Just once I’d like to one up her, but that will be a challenge. “You know that girl, Dabi Stone, the one they found murdered?”
Aunt Matilda nods and mouths DS.
“Well, a few weeks ago she hired Splitsville.com to dump her boyfriend because her high falooting father didn’t approve. I wave my hand in the air and say, “The boyfriend, he was upset but was okay by the end of the dump phone call. But now she’s dead. ”
Aunt Matilda’s skirt jingles as she shifts her weight. “And?”
“And her mom is devastated while her dad seems too quiet. Plus her mom mentioned Michael, the ex, during a news conference this morning. If they track down Michael, they’ll connect the dots to Splitsville.com.”
“If I recall, and I’m old, but I remember we don’t have a good history with that girl. Leave it to the police.” Aunt Matilda’s tone is more threatening than comforting. “You’re going to end up over your head.”
I know Aunt Matilda is concerned and doesn’t want anything to happen to me.
“I can’t. Then everyone in town will find out that I’m Jenn from Splitsville.com and I will have to get another job and you know how that’ll go.” I take a sip and look into my coffee. Anything to avoid her suspicious little mind. “Besides, I love my creation.”
“What does your dream have to do with it?” she asks. I know she isn’t going to let it go.
“I don’t know yet. All I know is Dabi’s initials are floating around like I need to dig deeper into her murder.” I take a long slow breath because hearing it out loud only confirms that my dreams are back and in full force. “Only I don’t think Michael did it.”
“Of course he did. He’s beyond hurt.” Aunt Matilda sways side to side jingling all the way to the kitchen to fill up her cup.
I follow behind her.
“I didn’t get that from his aura today.” I throw my hand over my mouth. How could I be so stupid? Every time I say I’m reading someone’s aura, there’s a vested interest and Aunt Matilda wants to know all about it.
She points her finger in the air. “Ah ha! So that’s why you went to Pleasant Ridge Park. I knew something was up because you only go there twice a year since your playground fiasco.”
She’s right. I go for the SPCA event for Erin and the annual Spring Fling.
“I had to, Aunt Matilda. I need to know if he killed her because of Splitsville.com.”
“I can see we’re going to lose sleep over this.” She knows me all too well.
“I hope not.” But positive thinking isn’t going to help me now. The past has proven that. There is definitely more digging I need to do about Michael, but it’s going to have to wait. “I’ve got to get my shower and meet Bradley.”
Aunt Matilda puts her arms around me. Something I need. “Go visit Bradley and we can figure this out along the way.”
Aunt Matilda always knows how to calm me down and help me figure things out. Today is no different.
Nine
“So what’s the deal with Bradley?”
I jump, startled out of my thoughts. I turn to find Creepy Kent standing behind me in line at the gas station. It takes everything I have not to throw my high-priced coffee on him.
I turn back around and concentrate on getting to the front of the line so I can pay. “There’s no deal.” The quicker I get out of here, the better off we’ll both be.
His aura flashes, shifting from red to orange causing his blonde hair tinted with a hint of brown. There is a tinkle in the corner of his eyes as they narrow. “Come on, you can tell me.” The battle of the auras form around him. The red big ego aura versus his orange determined aura. Besides, why would I tell him anything? Especially since Erin told me all about his past.
I remind myself that Erin likes him for a reason. He must not be all bad. "No deal," I repeat.
He shrugs and leans against the counter. "If you say so. You and Erin have been friends for a long time."
It's a statement, not a question, and I'm not sure if he expects me to answer. I grunt noncommittally.
"Help a guy out," he says, his aura vibrating, shifting to a more rustic red. My radar goes off. Manipulator. "What's her ideal date?"
If I stare too long his aura will create a dizzy mess in my head.
He flashes his million-dollar smile and I get a glimpse of why women like Erin fall for him.
I threaten him through my gritted teeth. “I’m on to you. I know about the girl from last night. Erin told me.” He needs to know that he can’t get one over on me.
That shuts him up. His smile fades, but he recovers at lightning speed. "It was a mistake. I'm into Erin." Kent digs out money from his pocket.
>
Liar. Auras don't lie. I slam down my cash on the counter. “Keep the change,” I tell the cashier, and bolt out the door.
I zoom out of the parking lot resisting the urge to turn my car around and run him over. He’s not worth a lifetime in jail.
I can’t believe what a creep he is. But he’s right about one thing, Erin will never believe me. Not yet anyway. I’ve got to come up with a plan to tell her about him and that aura. But carefully.
***
I spend the entire way looking in my mirror to make sure Kent isn’t following me. “Slow down,” Bradley mouths as I blaze into the SPCA lot. “Where’s the fire?”
“I was afraid I was going to be late.” I avoid his concerned stare. I smile and hand him his cardboard cup. “Plus I don’t want our coffee to get cold.”
Bradley’s shaggy hair is still damp and his cologne trails him as I follow him to the front of the SPCA. I stop just shy of the door. The smell of animals envelops me.
He grabs the door and holds it open, looking curiously at me. “You okay?”
I’m suddenly afraid to go in. “Are they going to make me cry?” Images from the SPCA commercials of the dog’s sad eyes resonate in my brain.
“No.” He rubs his hand along my arm. “Remember we are a no kill SPCA. All the animals here are loved and we have the staff to prove it.”
He holds the front door wide open and I walk in under his arm.
There are people and their aura’s everywhere, not to mention the dog’s auras. The little girl holding on to the leg of an older woman wiggles her fingers at me. My gift attracts children. I wiggle my fingers back.
There seem to be a lot of adoptions going on and the atmosphere is almost euphoric. Every aura is happy and fulfilled with love, it knocks me for a loop.
I stop at the front desk and put my coffee down. I grasp the lip of the counter. All the auras of humans and animals begin to swirl causing me to lose my balance.
