Elaine Viets & Victoria Laurie, Nancy Martin, Denise Swanson - Drop-Dead Blonde (v5.0) (pdf)

by Drop-Dead Blonde (epub)

  ``Now you can imagine my terror as I looked at this thief, willing to do anything he said as long as he didn't shoot me, when all of a sudden I heard a loud, distinctive male voice call my name. It was so loud and clear that I thought someone had come up from behind me to rescue me, but when I turned to look, no one was there. The voice spoke again, and this time he said, `Deirdre, listen to me and you will not be harmed.'

  ``Meanwhile, the mugger was growing impatient with me, because as I was listening to the angelic voice, I forgot to hand over my purse, so the thief again waved his gun at me, threatening to shoot me, and reflexively, I started to hand over my purse. But just as I was giving it to the mugger, the voice shouted in a thunderous tone, `No! Deir- dre, do not hand over your purse!'''

  The audience gasped as Deirdre imitated the detached voice, ``So,'' she continued, ``I said, `Well, what am I sup- posed to do then?' And the voice said, `I am Great Wind BLIND SIGHTED 271 Talker, and I am your spirit guide, and you must do as I say!'''

  I stopped eating my food and pushed my plate aside, my appetite gone. All around me people were hanging on Deirdre's every word, waiting for her to tell them more about this ``Great Wind Talker,'' while in my head all I'd heard since Deirdre began her story was, Liar, liar, pants on fire . . . And I knew, well before Deirdre talked about hitting the mugger with her purse and knocking him out, and the appearance of an angel-like figure who claimed to be her spirit guide and set her on the path to deliver heav- enly messages to all the world, that Deirdre Pendleton was a complete and total sham.

  The more she talked the more disheartened I became. Her story was rife with the overly fantastic and illusionary, angels, fairies, and Indian spirit guides appearing before her and giving her messages to deliver in her books and writings. There seemed to be no end to her abilities, as she took credit for predicting the last presidential election, the war in Iraq, and the fall of the Twin Towers. I couldn't help but notice that she offered no proof to back up her claims, as the constant drum of, Liar, liar, pants on fire, beat dully in my head.

  I glanced over at my sister, knowing there was no way she could be buying this, but to my astonishment Cat sat slack-jawed during Deirdre's speech, and her eyes seemed to widen as every tale grew bigger and more fantastic.

  Finally, just about the time I was looking for something sharp and pointed to impale myself on to put an end my misery, Deirdre switched topics and said that her newest mission was to take some of her ``flock'' to the Hawaiian Islands to visit a vortex that allowed the emergence of spiri- tual beings to pass freely from one plane of existence to another. She said that there were only a limited number who would be able to attend the retreat, but the first one hundred to pay the ten-thousand-dollar fare would be guar- anteed a reservation.

  Around the hall the rainbow-clad women, who were ob- viously Deirdre's assistants, moved into action, handing out flyers and brochures about the Hawaiian trip to everyone in the room. When a brochure was handed to me, I promptly handed it back and gave a pointed scowl to Cat 272 Victoria Laurie as she held her hand out to accept the flyer. ``What?'' she asked as my scowl deepened when she took the pamphlet.

  ``There is no way you're going, Cat,'' I said with a hiss.

  ``Why?'' she whispered back, and I noticed the man in the tweed jacket to my right quickly turn his beady eyes in my direction.

  ``I'll explain later,'' I said, and pulled the pamphlet from her hand, folded it in half, and put it underneath my plate of half-eaten chicken.

  After we'd all had time to peruse the Hawaiian trip, Deirdre claimed to be ready to read the audience. She held out her arms dramatically, and the twin sitting next to Tweed Jacket jumped up and joined her sister onstage, where they each held one of Deirdre's arms and assisted her down the steps.

  It was so over-the-top that I wanted to vomit right there: Deirdre swaying slightly as she mimicked a trancelike state, and her two attendants steadying her like servants as they descended the stairs. For a moment she stood at the bottom and eyed the audience, her eyes going unfocused as she seemed to concentrate, and then, with deadly precision, she turned her attention directly on Cat. Motioning to her two attendants, she fluttered over to our table, her gown bil- lowing softly as she walked, and flickered to a stop when she came directly in front of my sister and smiled wisely down at her.

  Cat was caught a little off guard as a spotlight turned on, illuminating her to the audience as Deirdre asked her to stand. My sister complied, and one of the twins shoved a microphone into the space between Cat and Deirdre.

  I watched with disgust as Deirdre exaggerated her move- ments, enhancing the belief that she was spiritually charged as she closed her eyes, putting her hand on my sister's shoulder and asking, ``What is your name, dear?''

  ``Catherine.''

  ``Ah, yes,'' Deirdre said, her voice all breathy and dra- matic, ``Great Wind Talker told me there was a C connec- tion to your name. Now, Catherine, I see an older female figure standing over here,'' she said as she waved at an area just over my sister's left shoulder, ``and she says she loves you very much and she's glad that you came to visit her when you were a child. She says she was petite, just like BLIND SIGHTED 273 you, and that she loved to bake cookies. Does this sound familiar to you?''

  ``Oh, brother,'' I said to myself, and rolled my eyes.

  ``Uh . . .'' My sister said thinking hard. ``It could be my grandmother?''

  ``Yes!'' Deirdre practically shouted, ``yes, it is your grandmother, and she's nodding her head acknowledging that. And to her side is an older gentleman who says that he loves you very much as well and he's so proud of you, and he says he's glad that you made a recent decision . . . did you recently make an important decision?''

  I rolled my eyes again at all the generalities spewing out of Deirdre's mouth, but the audience begged to differ with my opinion, as all around me people sat slack jawed and gawking as if they were witnessing the Second Coming.

  ``Uh, it could be a new product line I'm launching for my business?'' Cat supplied, unsure what Deirdre was look- ing for.

  ``Yes! He's nodding his head, Catherine, and saying that's it. And he's also talking about a nickname you had as a child. Did you have a nickname when you were little? Maybe something he called you?''

  ``Uh . . .'' Cat thought.

  ``Yes, he's insisting there was a nickname that he called you when you were little,'' Deirdre pressed, nodding her head at my sister while her two attendants mimicked her agreeably.

  I could see Cat growing uncomfortable at the pressure to recall an imaginary nickname that never existed, ``Well . . .'' she hesitated, and then, in an instant, Deirdre's demeanor shifted, and she abruptly dismissed her.

  ``Well, I'm sure you'll remember it later,'' Deirdre said tightly, and pointed my sister back to her chair.

  As Cat took her seat again, her face flushed with embar- rassment for not having remembered an imaginary nick- name, Deirdre moved on to the portly man sitting across from us. For some reason I felt the need to turn my intu- ition to the ``on'' mode, and as he stood I pointed my radar at him and began assessing his energy.

  ``Now, what is your name?'' Deirdre asked as she placed her hand on the man's shoulder.

  ``Stanley,'' he answered obediently. 274 Victoria Laurie

  ``Ah, yes, and people call you Stan, don't they?'' Deirdre said knowingly.

  Stanley nodded, eager to cooperate, and Deirdre contin- ued: ``Well, Stan, Great Wind Talker is telling me that you are a very successful man.''

  ``Uh-huh,'' Stan acknowledged.

  ``And they are also telling me that you are about to close a rather large business deal,'' Deirdre said.

  ``Really?'' Stan asked, his hopes rising.

  ``Yes, and this will bring you even greater success. More than you've ever had before,'' Deirdre said.

  Stan was near bursting with excitement as he hung on her every word. ``Really?''

  ``Yes, it's the truth. It has something to do with a con- tract. Do you work with cont
racts, Stan?''

  ``Uh, well, I own my own company,'' Stan offered.

  ``Yes, that's it. That's what your guides are saying. And your guides want you to celebrate, Stan; they want you to take your lovely wife on a vacation--someplace warm and tropical. They're telling me that both of you should go someplace wonderful to kick back and celebrate the success that's coming your way. . . .''

  ``Maybe we should go to Hawaii with you?'' Stan offered.

  Deirdre smiled benevolently at him and said, ``Yes, I feel that is a good fit for you and your wife. Just remember there are only a hundred seats available, so why don't you see my associate, Mr. Hamilton, here, and he can sign you up?'' Deirdre suggested, indicating Tweed Jacket to my right.

  Stan nodded his head, so happy to have such fantastic news, and as he took his seat I began to seethe with rage. What I picked up from Stan was far different from what Deirdre had indicated, and the harm she was inflicting on these trusting people was making me fume.

  Deirdre then turned her attention to the table next to ours, and I recognized a familiar face. Even before she got there, I knew Deirdre was going to pick Millicent Satchel as the next contestant on The Price Is Right, and sure enough, like a wolf to a sheep, Deirdre made a beeline to the sweet old lady.

  ``Would you stand up for me, dear?'' Deirdre said, her voice dripping with honey.

  Millicent popped up quickly; so excited she was shaking BLIND SIGHTED 275 and still clutching her book. ``Would you tell us your name?'' Deirdre asked.

  ``I'm Millicent Satchel, Miss Pendleton, and I'm such a huge fan of yours!'' she gushed in a voice cracked with age and quaking with excitement.

  ``That's sweet of you to say, Millicent. Now the first thing I'm seeing is a large crowd of people standing behind you and waving at me. These people claim to be your friends and family who have already crossed over into heaven,'' Deirdre said.

  ``Oh?'' Millicent asked, already a small line of doubt crin- kling her forehead.

  ``Yes,'' Deirdre said confidently, ``and they're saying they love you and they are holding your place beside them. And one of them is talking about knitting; does that make sense to you?'' Deirdre asked.

  ``Knitting?'' Millicent questioned, her brow furrowing even further.

  ``Well, maybe it's needlepoint, or crochet--someone you knew used to love to needlepoint or knit, didn't they?''

  Millicent thought long and hard and finally said, ``Why, yes! I have a cousin who likes to knit hats for her grandchildren.''

  Deirdre nodded her head knowingly and said, ``Yes, they're saying that's correct, it's your cousin they are talk- ing about. Has your cousin's health been bothering her lately?'' Deirdre asked.

  ``No, not that I know of,'' Millicent said, trying hard to make all the square pegs fit the round holes.

  ``Well, tell your cousin that her family wants her to watch her health and get plenty of exercise,'' Deirdre said.

  ``But she's in a wheelchair,'' Millicent said.

  Deirdre opened her eyes and smiled at Millicent, already finished with her and beginning to turn away. ``Well, see? Then she does have some health problems.''

  As Deirdre began to turn away, Millicent urgently tugged on the gown and asked desperately, ``Oh, Miss Pendleton, please, can you just tell me about my Harold?''

  Deirdre's smile returned full wattage as she came back to Millicent and dramatically placed her hand on the older woman's shoulder. ``You want to know about Harold?''

  Millicent nodded vigorously up and down. ``Yes, please! 276 Victoria Laurie I just have to know if I made the right decision in moving on to Jack.''

  Deirdre nodded wisely and closed her eyes. Concentrat- ing as she took deep exaggerated breaths, she finally said, ``All right, I see him. I see Harold, and he is telling me that he doesn't hold anything against you, and he knows that you had to move on and find love with someone else. He's glad that you're taking care of yourself and that this other man seems to be just what you've been looking for. He says that you should marry this man and that the two of you will care for each other until your dying days. . . .''

  Millicent gaped at Deirdre, her face a furrow of utter confusion as Deirdre talked on and on about Jack and Har- old, and just about the time that Deirdre was describing the upcoming nuptials I'd had more than enough. Fueled by my own anger I stood up so fast that my chair fell over backward, clattering to the floor and startling the room. I was enraged at the load of crap spewing out of Deirdre Pendleton's mouth, and I couldn't take it one more nano- second. ``Oh, for crying out loud!'' I shouted.

  The entire audience gasped at my outburst, my sister the loudest among them, but I didn't care. Deirdre's eyes snapped open as my voice reverberated off the walls. Quickly I used the stunned silence to my advantage as I walked around the table to point an accusing finger at Deir- dre and her entourage. ``She wants to know about her frig- ging dog, you miserable fake!'' I shouted. ``Harold was her dog, and Jack is her new dog! Millicent's husband is still alive, right, Millicent?''

  Millicent nodded dumbly as I continued to rattle off my own impressions of her energy, which I had been gathering since she stood up for Deirdre. ``Millicent, you did make the right decision. Harold was a little white fluffy dog, right?''

  ``Yes! He was a bichon frise!''

  ``And he had some sort of liver problem, didn't he?''

  ``The vet diagnosed him with liver cancer,'' Millicent con- firmed, her eyes growing misty, ``and I just didn't want him to suffer anymore . . .'' she added, dabbing at her eyes.

  ``Well, the feeling I have is that Harold is in a better place, and you did the right thing by putting him to sleep. Jack, however, is getting too fat, and you need to stop BLIND SIGHTED 277 spoiling him with so many treats. Also, your husband needs to come home from the golf, course and fix that leak under the sink.''

  ``Oh, my goodness!'' Millicent gasped. ``My husband does play too much golf and we do have a leak under our sink!''

  I sneered at Deirdre, who was watching me in horror; then I quickly turned to point at the man from our table whom Deirdre had ordered to take a twenty-thousand- dollar vacation. ``And you, Stan, is it?'' I asked.

  Stan nodded hesitantly, watching me with wide eyes.

  ``Your company is in major financial trouble, and you have a little problem with the IRS, don't you?''

  Stan's face turned slightly pink, but he obliged me by nodding vigorously.

  ``Well, here's my advice; your lawyer is a female with blond hair, right?''

  Stan sucked in a breath of surprise and said, ``Yes, yes, she is!''

  ``Well, I hate to tell you this, but the woman is crap as lawyers go, and it's time to kick her to the curb, 'cause she's charging you an arm and a leg and she doesn't know what the hell she's doing. There's another lawyer, a man in his thirties--like thirty-five-ish--who can really help you negotiate a better deal with the IRS, and save your com- pany from going under. There's a connection to a family member here too, has anyone in your family--a female, like maybe a sister--suggested using their attorney?''

  ``Yes!'' Stan said, jumping to his feet. ``My sister used a lawyer friend of hers to help her with her business, and he's just like you describe. She's been after me for months to give him a call, but I kept hoping that my current attor- ney could work it out.''

  I nodded at Stan and quickly moved on to the next topic for him. ``That's great; give him a call. Now, you also have an employee who's been stealing from you. I'm guessing that the books are totally screwed up, and you don't know where your money is, am I right?''

  ``Yes!'' Stan said.

  ``Okay, this employee has a connection to a motorcycle, and I think it's red. He either has a model of it on his desk or he owns a red motorcycle. . . .''

  ``Oh, my God!'' Stan sputtered as his wife gasped and 278 Victoria Laurie clutched her chest. ``Our comptroller has this model of a red motorcycle on the shelf in his office. He's always going around telling everyone how he's saving up to buy a real one!''

  ``I
see. Well, there's something up between your accounts and this man, and you need to investigate the matter-- pronto. Your business will survive, and that's important for you to know, but no way should you and your wife be spending money frivolously on vacations to Hawaii. Am I clear?''

  Stan nodded his head vigorously and leaned over to shake my hand as the room erupted in applause. Just then another hand gripped my upper arm like a vise, and I turned to see Tweed Jacket clutching me tightly as he turned to the crowd and declared, ``Thank you so much for that demonstration, miss! One of Deirdre's proteges, � � everyone! Isn't she wonderful?''

  The room again erupted in applause, and before I knew it, I was being escorted through the dining hall in the direc- tion of the entrance. ``Hey!'' I hissed as we neared the door. ``Let go of me!''