A Season for Killing Blondes (20 page)

I considered Jean a far cry from sainthood but didn’t want to alert Adele’s suspicions. “Let’s go back in. The workshop on reflexology should be starting soon.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon listening to the other workshops. As we were leaving, I heard a slightly accented voice behind me. “Miss Greco, did you want me to do your reading now?”

I turned and came face to face with the akashic records practitioner. While I didn’t look forward to another encounter with Michael in the larger auditorium, I wanted to hear what the younger woman had to say.

Adele jumped in. “Go ahead. I’ll run over to the Independent Store for groceries and pick you up on my way back.” She spoke directly to the practitioner. “How long will it take?”

“I can do a mini reading in twenty minutes.” Her eyes lit up. “If you want, we can do it in the restaurant. It’s pretty quiet in there, and I don’t think the waitresses will mind.”

Adele nodded and left. I followed the younger woman into the restaurant. As she chatted about the fair, I tried to recall her name…Lisa, Liz…One of the L names. “I’m sorry, but I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Lizette Mensour.” She pointed to a table in the far corner. “Is that table okay, Miss Greco?”

“It’s fine, and please call me Gilda.”

Lizette got down to business. “I know you agreed before, but I just want to double check. Do I have your permission to access your akashic records?”

“Yes, of course.” I couldn’t help smiling at the intense expression on her face. She couldn’t be a day over thirty, but she took her work seriously.

“Good. Since we have a short time together, I will address one question…any question you may have about relationships, goals, money—”

I wondered how much Lizette knew about me. After I won the lottery, my pictures and story were splattered all over the local newspapers. And my name and business had been mentioned in conjunction with the four murders. I wouldn’t be too surprised if she had Googled me. That’s what I would have done.

While it would have been interesting to ask Lizette if she could name Anna May’s accomplice, I decided to focus on relationships instead. “I’m wondering about some of the people in my life and their motives.”

“Do you feel threatened by someone?” Lizette leaned forward and took my right hand.

“More uneasy than threatened.”

She closed her eyes and was silent for a minute or so. She spoke slowly, “You are surrounded by many people. Most of them are loyal to you and wish you well, but I sense that there are several who are more interested in promoting their own agendas.”

General advice that could apply to almost anyone. I was disappointed with Lizette’s answer and hoped she would elaborate.

“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I can’t give you too many specifics until you provide me with more details.”

“What kind of details?” I didn’t feel comfortable sharing the names of possible suspects with her. Especially Jean and Michael Taylor. The Sudbury holistic community was a small one, and I wouldn’t be too surprised if they met and networked on a regular basis.

“Names would be good,” Lizette said. “Or even descriptions.”

I knew there weren’t too many Ken and Barbie holistic couples in Sudbury. “I’m not comfortable doing that. Is there anything else that you see?”

Lizette frowned. “I don’t think you are in any real danger. That is, I don’t think anyone is trying to harm you. But you should be careful. Don’t confide in too many people.”

More general, useless information. I should cut my losses here—it was only twenty dollars—and start walking toward the Independent Store.

“Why don’t you describe that special man you would like to have in your life?” Lizette winked knowingly at me.

Could Lizette see through me, or did she assume any woman who didn’t wear a wedding ring was searching for a man? I decided to play along. “He’s tall and lean and has salt-and-pepper hair.” I purposely left out the blue eyes.

Lizette’s features softened, and her eyes fluttered. She smiled confidently. “Yes, I can see him. He’s on the periphery of your life right now. It’s what you both want, but that will change soon.”

“How soon?” My heart skipped a beat.

Lizette shrugged. “That will depend upon you. You have to make the first move.”

More irritating advice. I couldn’t believe I had allowed myself to be suckered in. I reached for my wallet and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill.

Lizette smiled as she pocketed the money. “You are disappointed. You expected me to give you answers that you need to discover on your own.”

We shook hands and parted company.

Chapter 23

Monday, November 7, 2011

I was booked solid Monday morning and had little time to think of anything else but the clients who sat in front of me. All Millenials this morning. While I wanted the challenge of working with boomers, I had to admit it was easier dealing with younger clients who reminded me of my former students. Many of them were still living at home and trying to find jobs in their chosen careers. Those who had been fortunate enough to find entry-level jobs were desperately unhappy and wanted to change career direction.

While talking with these frustrated young people, I tried to focus on what was working in their lives. Too many of them wanted to start a new career based on a recent article they had read or a friend’s recommendation. While a handful of them were prepared to embark on a lengthy career exploration process, I suspect the majority wanted a sympathetic ear and would not be booking any more sessions.

When lunch time arrived, I heated up a Michelina dinner and ate while reading my emails. I was surprised and irritated when Belinda buzzed me. I had made it clear that I needed at least thirty minutes for an uninterrupted lunch.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Gilda,” she whispered, and I had to strain to hear her. “But there’s a man here who insists on seeing you. He’s returned three times this morning. I told him you’re having lunch and booked solid all afternoon, but he won’t budge. He says he only needs ten minutes of your time.”

He must be on the verge of a breakdown and ready to quit his job. Angry young men have little patience and often fly off the handle. All they need is a time-out before making a decision. “All right, Belinda. Wait five minutes and then send him in.” I finished up my meal, tidied up my desk and freshened up my makeup. Starting tomorrow, I would force myself to leave the office during lunch time. If not, I could see myself going straight through the day with very few breaks. That had happened too often during my teaching years.

Within minutes, a smiling Michael Taylor entered my office. I resisted the urge to scream and throw something at him. How dare he bully Belinda and force his way into my office! I didn’t bother plastering on a smile. “Good afternoon, Michael. Belinda tells me you’ve come by several times today. Are you having a career emergency of some kind?”

He laughed and shook his finger at me. “Very funny, Gilda. Sofia and Jean are decorating my studio and have kicked me out for the day. I thought I’d drop by and chat.” He added, “You’re doing well for what…your second week of business. Enjoy it while you can. It’ll trickle down as we get closer to Christmas. Not too many people interested in looking for a new job around that time. Now, my business picks up for the holiday. Let me know if you need any shots for your newsletter and cards. I’m sure we could work out some kind of deal.” He winked at me.

The man’s level of self-absorption defied all bounds. Every conversation would revert to him. I thought back to yesterday’s lunch. He had monopolized the entire conversation, and we had let him. And then he had wounded Laura with that malicious comment. A narcissist through and through, classic textbook case.

“Thank you for that kind offer,” I said as I glanced at my watch and moved several files. “I’ll touch base with Belinda, and let you know what we decide.”

His smile wavered. “You don’t like me, do you?”

I clenched my jaw, fighting back a surge of anger. “Now why would you say that?”

“You look so uncomfortable and ill at ease whenever we meet. At first, I thought it was because of Jean’s shocking behavior in your office.” He shook his head. “But then I noticed how little you said yesterday at lunch, and today…today you can’t even manage a smile.” He spread his hands wide. “Have I said or done anything to offend you, Gilda?”

Was he that obtuse or was he playing me? I thought back to my dealings with narcissistic colleagues—thankfully there hadn’t been too many—and recalled always being on edge whenever they crossed my path. And afterward, feeling emotionally drained and out of sorts. I decided to divert him and talk about the murders. “It’s been a very stressful time for me with the four murders.”

“You’ve been cleared of all suspicion, and there haven’t been any more murders. You need to move on, Gilda.” He waved his hand around the office. “And you’ve got to get out of this office. It’s not healthy to work through lunch and take no breaks. Go back to Jean’s yoga class. Spend some time at a spa. Have more fun.” He lowered his voice. “I could help with that.”

I stood. “My next client will be arriving any minute now. You need to go.”

He held up his hands. “I know. I know. Your receptionist made it very clear that you were booked solid all day. That young woman is too intense, a lot like you. You both need to lighten up.” He rose and headed toward the door. “Give me a call about the photo shoot.”

As soon as he left, I took several deep breaths and got up and paced around the office. I wanted to go outside for a long walk, but I didn’t have the time. My next client would be arriving soon.

The rest of the afternoon flew by as I focused on the fresh faces of my new clients. That’s what I enjoyed the most about this new career. Each day, I would be dealing with a different set of people and their career concerns. Within seconds of my last client leaving, Belinda buzzed me. “Gilda, you have another persistent caller.”

“Now who is it?” I groaned.

“Jim Nelson, the guy from Nickel City Security, has been calling all afternoon. What is it with these guys? Don’t they have jobs and lives?”

I couldn’t help laughing. “I guess not. Jim must be calling with an estimate.” I decided to let Belinda continue thinking that Jim was beefing up security in the alleyway.

“Business must be slow at his place,” she said. “But at least he’s not coming in here and putting the moves on me.”

My pulse raced a little faster. “What happened with Michael Taylor?”

“Oh, you know. The usual stuff that goes on with a guy who thinks he’s God’s gift to all women. His shtick is old, just like him.”

“What did he say?” I chose not to remind Belinda that Michael and I were about the same age.

“He talked about taking pictures of me for a modeling portfolio.”

“A modeling portfolio!” I couldn’t help exclaiming and then caught myself. “I’m sorry, Belinda. You’re a lovely girl and have a nice figure.”

Belinda sighed. “But I’m only five-two, and I’m not a size zero. He told me I had a petite advantage, and he’d help me get rid of those last twenty pounds.”

“You don’t need to lose any weight, Belinda. You’re beautiful just the way you are.” I couldn’t help adding, “I wish Maria or Rosa had been here when he said that.”

“He’d be dead meat.” Belinda started giggling.

Good! Belinda had not taken any of Michael’s comments seriously. He had put down Jean, Laura and God knows how many other women. I wondered if he had ever belittled Carrie Ann.

After I finished speaking with Belinda, I called Jim.

“Well, it’s about time.” Jim sounded more worried than annoyed. “I’ve been calling all afternoon.”

“Sorry, it’s been busy. I’ve had clients all day. Michael Taylor paid me a visit.”

“Yeah, I noticed. He was there three times today. That’s why I’m calling. The object of our attention and not our affection has been busy for the past two days. And he’s been gracing your company as well.”

“Not really gracing it, but tell me what you have discovered.”

“Yesterday, Mel was on his tail and—”

“You had your daughter follow him?” Despite her tough girl exterior, I believed that Mel bruised easily. I hoped she wasn’t considering a career in her father’s field.

“I wasn’t about to spend my day at a holistic fair,” Jim said testily. “She volunteered and then followed him to Culpeppers. She was sitting at the next booth.”

“I don’t remember seeing her, and I would recognize—”

“Yeah, I know. She was in disguise yesterday.”

I wondered what disguise could cover all those piercings but decided to focus on Michael. “What did she find out?”

“First of all, she discovered he’s a perv. He put the moves on every woman under the age of thirty, including her. I guess he likes them young,” Jim said. “He wasn’t too nice to your friend. Mel couldn’t believe how mean he was, and she was upset that you didn’t let him have it. You kinda fell a few notches in her estimation.”

“It wasn’t my finest hour.” There was no point sugar-coating what had happened.

“Last night, he went over to your cousin Sofia’s place. That sleaze ball of a lawyer was there. You know who I’m talking about?”

“Yes, I know all about Roberto Ongaro.” I could hear the resignation in my own voice as I spoke. I hated to be reminded of that Sunday morning when Roberto waved his sleazy magic wand and ended all hopes of a relationship with Carlo.

“Your cousin keeps interesting company,” Jim said. “And this morning she was there bright and early at Michael’s studio.”

“With Jean,” I added.

“Jean didn’t show up until later in the morning. That’s when Michael left the studio and started pestering you. I take it he saw you.”

“Yes, we had a short visit at lunch. Where did he go afterward?” I forced myself not to think about a possible relationship between Sofia and Michael.

“This is where it gets interesting. After he left your office, he drove out to the cemetery and visited three grave sites. He spent a lot of time at the first site. I found out later it was Carrie Ann’s. He also dropped by Mrs. Godfrey’s and Anna May’s sites. Didn’t stay there too long.”