I sighed heavily and replied, ``I'm not sure. I mean, where do we even begin? The bartender confirmed Mark's story about being nearly too drunk to see last night, let alone wield a knife, and Willow and Waverly may be bold enough to rob someone blind, but I doubt highly that they'd be motivated to murder, so I'm not sure where that leaves us.''
Silence fell on the three of us as we sat alone in thought, each trying to decide what next step to take, when a gasp sounded among the very few patrons who were left in the hotel and eating in the dining room with us. We all snapped our heads up to look for the cause; then we too released our own gasps of surprise.
Standing at the hostess stand at the entrance to the din- ning room and gazing intently about was none other than Deirdre Pendleton. 312 Victoria Laurie
For a moment no one in the room seemed to move; the hotel patrons sat nervously still and waited to see if perhaps the suspected murderess would lunge for another knife and claim her next victim, while Deirdre moved only her eyes, which combed each face within the dining room. In the next instant she locked eyes with me, her lids narrowing menacingly as her body came to life, moving with marked determination, and clenched fists in my direction.
Alarmed by her manner, I clutched my chest while franti- cally scanning the table for an available weapon to defend myself. In three strides she reached our table, and with one long accusing finger pointed it directly at me and said, ``You!''
Cat had scooted her chair a little closer to me as Deirdre approached, and when she started pointing fingers, Cat jumped up and put her small frame directly in front of Deirdre's line of fire.
``Listen here,'' Cat said in her most boardroomlike tone, ``you can get your bony finger out of my sister's face and just go back the way you came or I will call the police and have you arrested . . . again!''
Deirdre, who had been holding my eyes and was clearly undaunted by Cat's protective movements, suddenly snapped them at my sister when she heard mention of the police. Lowering her arm slowly, she said, ``No, that won't be necessary. I just wanted to talk to her for a moment, if that's all right with you?''
Cat eyed Deirdre for a long tense moment and refused to back down, so I gently put my hand on her arm and said, ``Cat, it's okay. I'll talk to her.''
``Fine,'' Cat said dismissively. ``But you'll play nice, Miss Pendleton, agreed?''
``Yeah, yeah.'' Deirdre waved tiredly and took the fourth seat at the table, eyeing our breadbasket hungrily while she was at it.
Cat sat down as well and pulled the basket of bread to the middle of the table a little closer to us as she continued to flash Deirdre a warning look.
``So what do you want?'' I asked, cutting to the chase.
Deirdre looked at me and leaned in close so that we couldn't be overheard. ``You have ruined my career,'' she BLIND SIGHTED 313 said bluntly, her voice hard as iron, ``and for that, you owe me.''
``I don't owe you diddly, Deirdre. I'm not the fraud here; you are,'' I retorted.
``Listen here, missy: I have talent, you know--''
``For misleading people,'' I snapped.
``People want to believe what they want to believe. . . .''
``Oh, cut the crap, Pendleton. Everybody's onto you. You're a phony. All I did was set things right, and I can't understand why you think I did more harm to your career than Celeste did. After all, she had all the proof; I just provided some expertise.''
``Yes, and you did it at my show, Miss Cooper, where people paid to see me, not you. You should have kept your damn mouth shut, because now I can't afford to pay my own rent!''
``So are you gonna kill me now too?'' I snapped, losing all patience and raising my voice.
The room fell silent, and all eyes turned to us as Deirdre eyed me with large, shocked eyes. Finally, after a long, tense moment, Deirdre said, ``I didn't kill her,'' in a voice that had lost all hint of aggression. And then her eyes welled up and tears slid down her cheeks.
Crap. Now I'd done it. ``I know,'' I said after a moment.
``You do?'' she asked, looking up, her eyes pleading as she wiped at her cheeks.
``Yeah,'' I said, squirming uncomfortably.
``But how do you know?'' Deirdre asked.
I tapped my temple in answer, and she said, ``Oh. Of course. Well, then, it's only right that you'll help me.''
``Help you?'' Millicent asked, finally jumping into the conversation.
``I need her to help clear my name,'' Deirdre answered, fully recovering herself and reaching across the table to snatch at a roll before my sister could pull it away.
I was taken by surprise at Deirdre's request, and it was a moment before I could respond. ``Why do you think I can help clear your name?'' I finally asked.
``Because,'' she said, stuffing a small bit of roll into her mouth, ``I didn't kill Celeste, and I need to find out who did before the police collect enough circumstantial evidence 314 Victoria Laurie to pin the murder on me. You've got real talent,'' she said, wagging a finger at me. ``With your abilities and my connec- tions you could go far, you know, and besides, you owe me,'' she said again.
One of my eyebrows arched tightly upward. ``Oh, really?'' I drawled. ``Gee, Deirdre, tempting as that offer sounds, I think I'll pass, because, like I said before, I don't owe you diddly.'' What can I say? This woman got under my skin, and clearing her name suddenly became something I didn't feel like doing.
``Abby . . .'' Cat hissed through the side of her mouth, ``She said she has connections.''
The arched eyebrow came down hard and joined its twin in a look of death that told my sister to clam it. ``Hire a private detective,'' I suggested, turning back to Deirdre. ``I'm sure they're better suited to the task of clearing your name. . . .''
``Didn't you hear me when I said I can't even afford to pay my own rent? How am I supposed to pay for a private detective now that my career is ruined?'' Deirdre asked, putting down the butter knife she'd stolen from Millicent's plate and looking at me honestly for the first time. ``I'm in trouble, Miss Cooper, and if you don't help me I'm going to go to jail for something I swear I didn't do, and a killer will go free.''
Damn . . . why'd she have to appeal to my sense of justice? I sighed heavily and checked in with my intuition to see if I should help her clear her name.
Right side light and airy, my sign for ``yes.''
``Fine,'' I said, rolling my eyes and letting my shoulders droop. ``But it's going to cost you, Deirdre.''
``What is it about not having any money you don't under- stand?'' Deirdre snapped.
I looked over at Millicent and considered an idea for a long moment. Then I smiled when I had the answer, and said, ``Oh, I don't want your money, Deirdre. I'll just bet that all this publicity is probably going to work to your advantage, and once your name is cleared your fans are going to come out of the woodwork to support you. My guess is that the Hawaii retreat is still a go, so after you get through peddling ninety-eight of those one hundred BLIND SIGHTED 315 tickets to Hawaii, you're going to reserve the last two slots, free of charge, for my dear associate Millicent Satchel and her husband . . . uh . . .''
``Ernie,'' Millicent said quickly, excitement building in her eyes.
``Yeah, Ernie. And they'd better be first class tickets to boot. And while she's there you'll make sure her accommo- dations are the best and that she has plenty of food vouch- ers and coupons for her touring pleasure,'' I added.
Deirdre's own eyebrows lowered dangerously. I was ask- ing for the moon, and it must have irked her that I wasn't falling all over myself to help her out of her little predica- ment. ``Fine,'' she said flatly. ``But only if you find the mur- derer and I am completely exonerated.''
I nodded at Millicent, allowing her to make the decision.
``Deal!'' she sang sweetly. ``This is so exciting! I've al- ways wanted to go to Hawaii!''
``Okay, now that that's settled,'' I said, getting down to business, ``we can move on to identifying suspects. We've already done some of the preliminary work.''
Deirdre looked a question mark at me and asked, ``Pre- liminary work?''
``Yeah,'' I said smugly, ``I've already tuned in on the murder.''
``So you were already working on the case even before I came here?''
``Yup,'' I said allowing a small, ``nah-nah-nah-nah-nah'' smile to form on my lips.
``Great,'' Deirdre said rolling her eyes, ``just great. So tell me, what have you come up with?''
``Well,'' Cat said jumping in, ``Abby has been able to home in on several clues about the murderer, and from the very beginning she didn't think you did it.''
``Thanks,'' Deirdre said flatly to me, no real gratitude reaching her eyes. She then turned back to Cat and asked, ``What clues?''
Cat pulled out the piece of paper with my flashes of insight on them and ticked them off like a grocery list. ``Two killers--most likely they knew and betrayed Celeste. A reference to an apple tree, some poker chips, a calico cat, Little House on the Prairie, and basketball.'' 316 Victoria Laurie
Deirdre's face hung heavy with disappointment as she listened to the laundry list of odd clues and snapped, ``You have got to be kidding me.''
I couldn't help it; my dander kicked in, and I snapped testily back, ``They're metaphors, you know, like the type that come through a psychic message? Oh, that's right . . . you wouldn't know what that felt like, would you, Deirdre?''
Deirdre half stood at the insult, her upper lip curling menacingly, and Cat jumped in quickly. ``Ladies! Ladies . . . no reason to get upset here; we're all on the same team, after all, right?'' she asked, looking around at Millicent and me for support.
Deirdre collected herself with effort and sat slowly back down, glaring intently at me as I glared just as intently back, neither of us blinking or looking away from the other, but waiting it out to see where Cat would take us next.
``So let's try to work together on this, shall we?'' Cat said in a soothing tone. ``Deirdre, let's start with the first clue; do you know anyone who has an apple orchard or who likes apples, or even someone with that for a last name?''
``No,'' Deirdre said flatly, folding her hands together and tucking them snootily underneath her chin as she gave me a look of disdain.
I glared at her in warning, but Cat--ever the optimist-- persisted. ``I see. So how about poker? Do you know any- one who might want to kill Celeste who gambled or played poker?''
``No.''
Buzzzzz, buzzzzz, my intuitive phone rang. Shifting in my chair I homed in on the thought wanting to come into my head, and after a quick flash of insight I asked her, ``Are you sure?''
`` 'Am I sure' what?'' she repeated.
I scowled as I tried to make sense of the clue in my head, which insisted that Deirdre knew about a connection like Cat had just asked about. ``That you don't know some- one connected to Celeste who gambles?''
``I already told you I didn't'' she answered. Liar, liar . . . pants on fire.
I sighed heavily in frustration. Why wasn't she cooperat- BLIND SIGHTED 317 ing? She wanted to clear her name, didn't she? ``Deirdre,'' I began, trying to rein in my attitude for the sake of moving this train forward, ``you're holding something back on us, and I'm telling you that it's important that you come clean. If you want our help clearing your name--''
``I told you I don't know!'' Deirdre snapped, cutting me off and making several patrons look in our direction. Liar, liar . . . pants on fire . . .
I counted to ten and waved a hand at Cat to continue. This was going to get us nowhere, but what could I do?
``How about someone who owns a calico cat? Anyone you know who might want Celeste dead who owns a cal- ico cat?''
Deirdre shook her head and said, ``This is ridiculous! How the hell are we going to find the killer if all we have to go on are these idiotic metaphors?''
``We're doing our best,'' Cat tried, still holding on to the hope that Deirdre would help us narrow the field.
``Well, this is crazy,'' Deirdre said. ``I thought you had talent.''
That did it. ``Listen to me, you no-account scam artist,'' I said angrily. ``I have more talent in my little finger than you have in your entire head! Despite appearances, these are valid clues, and you can either work with us to figure them out, or against us and go to jail. About now, I'm looking forward to sitting front and center as they lock you up and throw away the key, so what's it gonna be?''
There was a long, stunned silence as Cat and Millicent bounced glances between me and Deirdre, waiting to see if things were about to explode or calm down. Finally Deirdre lowered her head into her hands and said tiredly, ``You're right . . . Of course you're right. I'm being stubborn and I'm not helping.'' She lifted her face then and looked at each of us in turn. ``It's just been a very long day, and I'm sorry. Please continue. What's the next clue?''
``Little House on the Prairie.''
Deirdre rolled her eyes slightly and fought to bite back a remark I was sure wasn't pleasant, ``Could you give me a little more to go on?''
``Well,'' Cat said, referring to her notes, ``Abby had a vision of a calico cat coming out of the schoolhouse from Little House on the Prairie.'' 318 Victoria Laurie
``Hmmm,'' Deirdre said, ``you said schoolhouse?'' And after Cat nodded she continued, ``I wonder . . .''
``What?'' I asked.
``Well, it's a little bit of a stretch, but one of my vendors at this seminar came from a school out west that teaches psychic intuition. Her name is Zoe Schmitt, and she teaches
� at the Institute for Metaphysical Studies in Kansas. I've been to the school, and it's in one of those old, nineteenth- century schoolhouses that looks very much like the one from Little House on the Prairie.''
``I've met Zoe,'' I said. ``She was conducting some tests
� on psychic ability during your seminar last night.''
``Yes, she wrote to me a few months ago and asked per- mission to join the other vendors. I agreed because I've been to the school, and they do amazing things there. The interesting thing about all this, however, is that I know for a fact that Zoe has been submitting her research to Celeste's
� foundation for years, hoping to win the two-and-a-half- million-dollar prize. It's common knowledge that she's been turned down every time.''
``Hmmm,'' I said becoming interested. ``Do you know if she owns a cat, or maybe has a gambling problem?''
``She looks like she would be the type to own a cat, now, doesn't she?'' Deirdre said with a smirk. ``The truth is that I really don't know much about her personal life. You'd have to ask her to find out.''
``What are we waiting for?'' Cat said, standing up and tossing several bills into the middle of the table. ``We have a room number to purchase. Let's go, ladies.''
Deirdre looked longingly at our leftovers and said, ``You three go on ahead. I'm going to grab a quick lunch and take a hot shower. The sheriff's station is filthy, and the interrogation room they had me in smelled like urine.''
``Charming,'' I said, getting out of my chair. ``We'll catch up with you later then.'' And with that, the three of us went in search of a certain redhead who just might be a sadistic killer. Chapter 5
Zoe Schmitt was not in her room, but Cat was able to glean
� that as far as the front desk knew, she was still checked into the hotel. After much discussion, we decided to call Zoe and leave her a message from me, stating that I was
� down on the patio and wanted to offer my services as a human guinea pig to help her with her research. We then trotted down to the patio by the beach to wait and hope that Zoe got the message and came down to investigate.
�
Just as I was starting to really enjoy the warm waning sun of the late afternoon and the cool breeze coming off the coastal waters, a shadow appeared over my head, and I squinted up to see a patch of red hair sticking out from underneath a gigantic straw hat. ``Hi, Abby,'' Zoe said� sheepishly.
Stifling a groan, I sat up in the chair and forced a smile as I greeted her. ``Hello! I'm so glad you fo
und me. Zoe, � I'd like you to meet my sister, Catherine Cooper-Masters, and our dear friend Millicent Satchel,'' I said, making the introductions and indicating a spare seat underneath the shaded area of our umbrella-topped table.
``Nice to meet you,'' Zoe said politely, switching her lap-
� top from right hand to left in order to shake everyone's hand before taking her seat. ``I'm so glad you called me. I didn't have a chance to get your information last night be- fore everyone came storming out. It's been quite a show here this weekend, huh?''
``Yes, it certainly has,'' Millicent answered, beaming her trusting smile at Zoe. �
``So! Abby, you want to participate in my research,'' she announced, swiveling the laptop around and opening it in
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