A Psychic with Catitude

by P. D. Workman

  “Out near the Papillons’ house?” Reg asked, immediately interested.

  “Yes, one of their closest neighbors. Just terrible to hear about their daughter, wasn’t it? They must be going crazy with worry.”

  “If they’re a magical family, why can’t they just cast some kind of spell to find out where she is? Or to bring her back home?”

  Sarah gave a little laugh. “It’s not quite as easy as all that,” she said, shaking her head. “The books and movies always overstate things… they make magic look like a circus act. But that’s not what it’s like. It’s far more subtle than that.”

  “But they should be able to do something, shouldn’t they?”

  “They probably are. But that doesn’t guarantee anything, especially if… there were other practitioners involved.”

  And Reg happened to know that it was, in fact, the case.

  “You know the Papillons?” she asked.

  “Yes, of course. They’ve been around here as long as I have, maybe longer. That doesn’t make us best friends, mind,” Sarah cautioned. “Most of the time, we do our own thing and they do theirs. But we do have some contact.” She motioned to the flyer. “Some social events. With what’s going on with their daughter, I don’t know if the Papillons will be there. But others from their clan will be.”

  “What are they like?”

  “What are they like…?” Sarah hummed, thinking about it. “They are… powerful… haughty… reserved… that makes it sound like I have something against them, but believe me, I don’t. I’m just being honest and plainspoken… they wouldn’t want me to suggest they had qualities that they don’t. They prefer to be thought of as distinct. It’s not bad to consider them different than we are. They are what they are.”

  Reg nodded slowly. “They were very beautiful and so was their house. Their castle. Although Calliopia…”

  “She hadn’t yet come into her own. She would, in time.” Sarah leaned closer to Reg. “I haven’t been inside the castle before. What was it like?”

  “Very big… spacious… When I think of a castle, I always think of all of the art work and fine things, but there wasn’t really a lot of decoration. There were beautiful plants and gardens.”

  “Ah,” Sarah nodded. “There would be! They are very close to nature. It doesn’t surprise me that they would want to bring the outdoors inside.”

  “I think maybe I’d better go,” Reg said, looking down at the flyer. “Maybe…” She didn’t complete the thought. Maybe she could solve the case. Maybe she could find out vital bits of information from the guests at the party and figure out what had happened to Calliopia and where she was being held. It was best not to tell Sarah that. Let her think that Reg was just going for the social aspect.

  “What you need to do now is go dress that wound. Come up to the house after you have had a rest and I will help you to get ready for the party.”

  ⋆ Chapter Eleven ⋆

  G

  oing to the old crone’s to get dressed for the party might not have sounded like much fun, but Reg knew from Sarah helping her to get ready for a date with Corvin that Sarah had a treasure trove of gowns and jewelry that would have put a fashion designer to shame. Never mind that Sarah was an overweight, grandmotherly woman. She apparently hadn’t always been. Or else she collected clothing as a hobby. Reg did as she was told, taking care of her hand and having a nap to prepare for being out most of the night. As the afternoon drew on, she headed up to the big house.

  Sarah already had several gowns picked out and was fluttering from one place to another looking at various accessories and accouterments. “See what you like, my dear, and tell me if you want something different. It will be full formal, but that still gives you plenty of latitude. Floor-length skirts are best, but what shape you prefer is up to you, jacket or bare shoulders, hair up. No masks.”

  “Masks?” Reg repeated.

  Sarah nodded. “No incognito,” she said, as if that were a perfectly normal thing to specify for a community dance.

  Reg picked a shimmering gold dress and held it up, first in front of her and then pressed against her body. It was beautiful, but a bit more showy than she wanted. She didn’t want to blend in with the background, but she didn’t want to be the focal point of the room either. A satiny red dress caught her eye, and she picked that one up next.

  “I wouldn’t normally recommend a red dress for a redhead,” Sarah commented. “But your hair is dark enough I think you can pull it off.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had something this color before.” Reg held it against her. The luxurious feel of the fabric drew her to it even more.

  “Try it on.”

  Reg took the mounds of cloth to one of the bedrooms to try it on. As before, it seemed like Sarah might have a little magic on her side, since the dress fit Reg like a glove. It was off the shoulders, with crossed straps over the bust and long drapes of sheer cloth that pooled on the floor. At the waist that fitted to her like it had been altered on the spot, was a gold dragonfly embellishment.

  She gathered up the train and went back to where Sarah was muttering over hair accessories.

  “Ah, beautiful,” Sarah exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “You have the perfect figure. Dresses love you. Really, it’s too bad that trousers are de rigueur for everyday wear now. You really are made for gowns.”

  Reg had to admit that she liked the way she looked in a dress and frequently chose one when pants would have done just as well.

  “Now let’s put your braids up and find you some jewelry. And shoes.”

  “Are you going to go?”

  “Oh, certainly.”

  Reg glanced at the clock on the wall. “Then you’ll need time to get ready too. I can do my hair myself, if you have a few bobby pins.”

  “Nonsense. I don’t take any time to get ready. Come sit down and we’ll take care of it.”

  Reg would just have formed the braids into a quick knot or bun, but Sarah fiddled and fussed, winding them into a coil and weaving them around each other, until she was satisfied with her creation. There were gold pins holding it together, one with a dragonfly that was almost a duplicate of the one on her dress. As if they’d been made as a set. Maybe they had.

  Her shoes would rarely be seen under the trailing draperies of the dress, and Reg was already a good height, so the shoes Sarah suggested were not too showy or too high.

  “Dress shoes are never comfortable,” Sarah sighed. “But these are as close as you’re going to get. You can stay on your feet for several hours in these, dance as required, and not have blisters or numb feet by the end of the night.”

  They felt good when Reg put them on, but she knew that as Sarah said, her feet would be sore by the end of the night anyway.

  Reg knew gloves were going to be way too warm in the Florida heat, but Sarah insisted they were necessary to cover up her bandaged hand.

  Sarah provided a few choices of necklaces and other jewelry. Reg looked them over.

  “And have you put spells on any of these?” she demanded. “It was a bit of a shock last time.”

  Sarah had the grace to blush. She fanned her pink cheeks with her hand. “I figured you could use every protection you could get against Corvin’s glamour,” she said. “Maybe I should have told you, but…”

  “As it turned out, you were right,” Reg admitted. “I should have listened to you and not even gone out with him.”

  Sarah’s eyes were downcast. “Perhaps I should have told you more. But… such things are just not discussed in polite company. Men like Corvin… well…” She shook her head. “What they do is unspeakable.”

  Reg wouldn’t have understood that before, but after going through what she had with him, she had to agree. She was loath to even put it into words. Of course, that compounded the problem. Not talking about him to other women could put them at risk with Corvin.

  But as everyone seemed to know more about him than she did, she didn’t have to agon
ize over how to warn anybody else about him.

  “Let’s not talk about that right now,” Sarah said, demonstrating her distaste for the subject. “We are getting ready for a party. There are no spells on any of these pieces, although some of them have a small amount of power themselves.” Her hand hovered over a necklace with a large blood-red crystal. “Just pick what you like.”

  Reg looked again at the clock. “Why don’t I try some of these things on while you go change. I don’t want to hold you up.”

  Sarah seemed to hesitate.

  “I’m not going to steal anything,” Reg said sharply. “You know all of what’s here. If it goes walking off, it’s not like you wouldn’t know where to find me.”

  “I would never suggest such a thing. No. I just thought you might have more questions or need help deciding.”

  She withdrew, going to another part of the house to do her own magical transformation. Reg swallowed and watched her go, feeling anxious. There had been many times in the past when bits of jewelry or heirlooms had disappeared when she’d been in the same room with them. Maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t planning on taking anything from Sarah that had made her hesitance sting. If Reg had been planning to take something, she would have just laughed it off.

  She tried to push the anxious thoughts and feelings to the side, shoving them to one corner of her mind where they wouldn’t bother her, and tried on each piece of jewelry in front of the mirror, making her choice slowly and methodically.

  It seemed like Sarah could only have been gone for five minutes when Reg heard her returning. She looked up to see if Sarah had forgotten something she needed in order to get changed.

  But Sarah’s boast that it would take her no time at all to get changed was true. She wore a floor-length gown with a deep forest green pattern. It had a square neckline and long sleeves, and she wore a simple pendant of the largest emerald Reg had ever seen. Reg moved closer to get a look at it.

  “That’s amazing. It’s real, isn’t it?”

  “Of course it’s real, Reg dear. What would be the point of wearing glass?”

  “It really is incredible.”

  The emerald hung from a thick gold chain woven like a rope. It caught the light and reflected it back, making it look like it was glowing. It even seemed to be radiating warmth and a feeling of calm. Sarah smiled and patted it like it was alive.

  “One of my greatest treasures.”

  “And you have it just laying around the house? I would have it in a safety deposit box in a bank. One with a really good vault. I’d be afraid to wear it anywhere.”

  “Hiding it away in a bank would defeat the purpose of owning it,” Sarah pointed out. “Are you ready to go?”

  Reg nodded, displaying her jewelry selections for Sarah. Sarah nodded and took Reg by the arm. “Then we’re off.”

  “Do you want me to drive?” Reg offered. Her car was smaller, and might not be comfortable for an older lady, but Reg wasn’t particularly comfortable with Sarah’s driving skills. She wanted to get to the party in one piece, preferably without a bloody nose.

  “No, I’ve arranged for transportation.”

  Reg’s heart sank. Sarah placed Reg’s hand on her arm as if Reg were escorting Sarah somewhere rather than the opposite. She took Reg down the wide stairs of the grand staircase to the great room, and then out to the curb. But rather than Sarah’s black jeep, there was a stretch limo. Reg couldn’t have been more surprised if it had been a pumpkin carriage with six white horses.

  “You hired a limo?”

  Sarah just smiled.

  “Are we picking anyone up? Do you have a date?”

  “Just us, Regina.”

  The driver got out and held the doors for them. Reg slid in beside Sarah. Lots of leg room. Sumptuously upholstered seats. Drinks available. TV screens and tablets. Reg sat back, sinking into the seat, and just enjoyed the ride. No worries about getting her long train dirty or tangled up around the pedals of her car. No worries about Sarah’s maniacal driving. She could just sit back and enjoy.

  ⋆ Chapter Twelve ⋆

  S

  arah wasn’t the only one who had hired a limo service for the party. There was a long line of limos queued along the driveway, inching forward to drop off their passengers and then turning around to find a place to park while they waited for the revelries to end.

  Reg’s mouth dropped open when she saw that there were a few horse-drawn carriages making their way to the party as well. She peered out the window in amazement. It was like prom, only better.

  Actual horse-drawn carriages!

  The limo crept down the drive. Reg and Sarah watched everyone who got out ahead of them, admiring the gowns and costumes on show. It was so different from the community potluck that Reg had imagined, she could hardly comprehend it. She’d half-expected burgers on a grill, casseroles, and salad mixes being heaped onto paper plates while everyone stood around chatting in jeans and t-shirts. Even though Sarah had told her that it was full formal. Even prom had only been cracker canapés and punch in plastic cups, despite the formalwear and limo services some of the kids had been wealthy enough to hire. Reg had said she wasn’t going to go to prom, but at the last minute had put on a thrift store gown and made her way to the school to check it out. For all of the planning and anticipation the other girls had put into it, it had still just been high school kids sweating in the gymnasium.

  Along the driveway leading to the mansion, there were white twinkle lights adorning all of the trees. The lights alone must have taken days to string up. Unless, of course, there had been some kind of magic involved.

  When they reached the mansion, footmen opened the limo doors and offered a hand to the women to help them out of the car. Reg gathered up her skirts, but it was only a few steps from the car to the red carpet, and then she didn’t have to worry about her train dragging in the dirt.

  She and Sarah walked side by side to the house, and at the door to the ballroom, their names were announced to the room, though neither of them had given their names to the herald. They joined the group that had gathered there ahead of them, chatting pleasantly while waiters circulated with drinks and dainties.

  Reg stuck close to Sarah. She was there to mix—and to see if she could find anything out about Calliopia’s kidnapping—so she’d stay close to Sarah and get her to introduce Reg to everyone.

  Sarah nodded and smiled at a few people before heading toward a tall, pouchy-faced woman in a green turban.

  “Marian,” she greeted warmly, holding her hand out. The two women started out looking as though they were going to shake hands, and then embraced, cheeks pressed briefly together in an air kiss, then drew apart again. “I want you to meet Reg Rawlins, a new talent in town.”

  “Oh yes,” Marian said, looking Reg over and giving her a cool nod. “I have heard of Ms. Rawlins’ talents.”

  Sarah smiled, acting as though she didn’t hear the bile in Marian’s voice. “You’re both in the same business. Mediums.”

  “Ah.” Reg nodded, understanding. Marian was the competition. She’d heard about Reg and maybe she was afraid Reg was going to steal her business. The story about Warren Blake had made some waves around town. And there had also been Amy Calvert, a woman who had made the rounds to all of the psychics in the area, who had been singing Reg’s praises nonstop. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Marian.”

  “Yes, it’s lovely that you could make it. Always nice to meet someone in the business. These events are so important to keeping up on what’s going on in the community.”

  Marian grabbed a drink from one of the trays circulating around the room. Reg was suddenly thirsty herself, a strong craving hitting her in the gut. She took a drink from the same waiter and looked at Marian speculatively. Was the craving for drink emanating from her? If so, was it because that was what she was feeling, or because she was hoping to push Reg into drinking too much and making a fool of herself?

  She turned to Sarah indicating t
he drink with her eyes. “Is it… safe?” she asked in a murmur. Who knew what kind of drinks they served a such a party. The food and drink she’d had with Corvin had been intoxicating, and she wasn’t sure it had been just his influence. She didn’t know what kinds of drugs or mind-altering ingredients might be considered acceptable in the paranormal community.

  Sarah surprised Reg by taking the glass from her hand to examine it and give it a sniff. She handed it back. “Safe,” she pronounced, “but very strong. Best consumed by the thimbleful.”

  Reg looked back at Marian, who, in apparent defiance of Sarah’s advice, threw back almost her entire glass, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Reg watched a red flush rise from Marian’s boxy bosom up her neck to suffuse her cheeks. Her eyes rolled up and Reg thought for a moment that she was going to pass out on the spot. But Marian regained her equilibrium and stared at Reg. Reg again felt the wave of thirst and desire. It was definitely coming from Marian, and she was doing it deliberately. Reg returned her glass to another waiter’s tray, determined not to take any intoxicants. Let Marian make a fool of herself; Reg was going to stay grounded.

  “Oh, you must try these,” Sarah nearly squealed, indicating a tray of desserts circulating nearby. “If you get nothing else from this party, you have to taste the cakes.”

  Sarah helped herself to one colorful, delicately decorated morsel with each hand. Reg selected a delicious-looking fairy cake for herself.

  “They look too beautiful to eat.”

  “And they taste even better.” Sarah pointed to the tiny rosebud decorating Reg’s cake. “That is an actual rose, crystallized in sugar. You’ll never find anything like this in a bakery.”

  Reg examined the beautiful decorations before taking a small bite. The light, airy cake melted in her mouth, filling it with a tangy sweet lemon flavor.

  “Delicious!”

  Sarah nodded, her mouth too full of cake to respond.

  “Hello, ladies.”