Haunting Whispers (17 page)

Melvin and Tony rose from their seats on the sofa and flanked her, placing muscular arms around her waist. “Nothing to forgive. We all do what is necessary. When the time is right, you’ll call and we’ll be there,” Tony said.

Sam raised his glass. “One for all, we are one.” His bright smile always reminded Audrey of happy times. “Do you remember the Yasi and Sanjana dance routine?”

“Oh, no, Sam, not that story,” Yasi said. “Must we always rehash that one?”

“Your
friend
,” he inclined his head toward Yasi, “convinced you to join her in a dance routine.”

“And almost got us killed. She kept saying, ‘I have a surprise for you.’ It’s made me a bit anxious about her gifts ever since.” Audrey flashed Yasi a loving smile to let her know she was only joking.

Yasi tried to defend herself. “How was I to know the sash was threadbare? Nobody told me that box of stuff was for the garbage dump.”

“Lucky for you that I was close by.” Melvin smiled and flexed his biceps.

Audrey felt as if she’d stepped back in time and they’d never lost touch. Laughter filled the room and joy settled in her heart again. It was nearly midnight before they decided it was time to leave and said their good-byes.

When Audrey opened the door, Rae Butler stood on the other side poised to knock. “What—I thought you were—” Nothing coherent would come out of her mouth.

Rae stood silently surveying the group of people standing behind her in the doorway.

“They were just leaving,” she said as her guests filed out.

As her friends passed Rae, they introduced themselves and bid her a good night. Audrey thought how surreal. Her past and present seemed determined to collide. It was probably best, as she’d already decided to tell Rae the truth. But she hadn’t planned to tell her about being psychic
and
a circus brat all at once. One of those things would probably send Rae running in the opposite direction, but combined she was certain to lose her. Audrey waved Rae in. “Is your
party
over so soon?” She hated the bite in her words yet couldn’t seem to help herself. She didn’t control jealousy well.

“That’s why I came by, to explain about Janet.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.” Audrey tried to show disinterest, though she longed to know the real story. She assumed a casual expression before turning to face Rae. “That’s none of my business.”

“I’d like to clear something up. Janet and I aren’t together anymore. She cheated, and I can’t forget it. If I lose trust in the person I love, it’s over for me.”

Audrey relaxed and a stressful ache across her shoulders dissolved as she listened to Rae’s words. She wanted to believe Rae, but she’d let Janet handle her like a lover, in public, in front of her friends…and Audrey. “You sound pretty certain.”

“I am, now more than ever, and I wanted to tell you…so you wouldn’t misunderstand what you saw tonight.”

“It was quite a display, and you seemed to enjoy it.”

Rae blushed an endearing color of pink that was such a contrast to the self-assured cop she was used to. “Not really. She knows the buttons to push…and we always had a healthy—” She stopped as her color deepened. “Sorry.”

Audrey didn’t enjoy the visual that popped into her head—Rae and Janet hot and sticky from each other’s sweat and other bodily secretions. She forced the image from her mind. “She obviously doesn’t want it to be finished.”

“She doesn’t have a choice. It’s over.” Rae shrugged like she had nothing more to say on the subject, and Audrey tingled in relief. Her words rang true.

“Sorry if I interrupted your evening. It looked like you were hosting an international conference, or were they friends?”

Audrey took a deep breath and steeled herself for Rae’s reaction. “Actually, they’re more like family.”

Rae’s expression didn’t change. “They seem very nice. How did you meet such a diverse group of people?”

“Why don’t you sit down? Would you like something to drink?” Audrey stalled for time. She needed a few more seconds to mentally map her strategy.

“No, thanks.” Rae took a seat at one end of the sofa with Audrey at the other.

“I met those people when I was young, in the International Cirque.”

Rae’s gaze never left hers, her eyes full of attention and interest. An involuntary twitch in her brow was the only indication that the comment registered as unusual.

“My mother, Nadja, was a dancer with IC originally, ex-quisitely creative and coordinated. When she retired, they kept her on as a dance recruiter and instructor until she died.” The memory of her mother and her amazing career brought a wave of pride and sadness. She fought to control the swell of emotions. “From my earliest recollections, we moved every couple of weeks from one venue to another. The small cirque family became my family. We were close-knit and lived together in the beginning. Wherever we went we had a few rooms and everybody shared space and resources. Everyone had a job—fixing meals, educating the children, planning events, transportation, or housing. It was like a busy little ant hill.”

Audrey looked to Rae for an indication to continue. Her face was softer than she’d ever seen. The small worry lines that usually creased her forehead had disappeared and her eyes shone with kindness and curiosity. So far so good, but this was the easier of the two bombs to drop.

“Please go on.”

“When I was old enough to work, I chose to become a clown. The more experienced performers took me under their wings and gave me on-the-job training. Melvin and Tony are trapeze artists. Hope, Faith, and Charity are tumblers/gymnasts. Yasi is an exquisite dancer. Sam and I developed a clown routine—Sam and Sanjana.”

Rae looked confused. “Sanjana?”

“In Sanskrit it means soft, gentle, untouchable. I chose it for the act. Sam was the Charlie Brown to my Lucy. I was a Queen of Hearts jester with a hood hat, comedy and tragedy masks, curly toed shoes, and oversized gloves. I never handled anything directly. I carried huge tongs in my back pocket. I’d start to touch something or shake Sam’s hand and change my mind at the last minute. Silly, I know, but the crowds loved us.”

Rae smiled. “I’m trying to envision you dressed in that costume acting onstage in front of thousands of people. You’re so private now. I bet you had a great childhood, full of fun and adventures.”

So far Rae’s reaction hadn’t been what Audrey expected. Her background had no more adverse effect than any other person’s recollection of their childhood. Rae seemed interested and asked questions, showing no signs of judgment or disapproval. “It was a happy time until I went away to college.”

“Did you stop performing?”

“I returned at summer breaks and did a few shows, because I loved it so much and it kept me in touch with friends. My last one was a year ago.” Audrey remembered the night of her final performance. The arena had been packed and they’d done shows back-to-back. Afterward she’d changed clothes and was walking to join the others at a nearby bar to celebrate. Her memory always faded at this point. She hadn’t figured out if the blockage resulted from the incident or her refusal to remember it.

“You look sad. Did something happen?” Rae asked.

Audrey barely contained her feeling of helplessness. She couldn’t tell Rae this part of the story until she remembered everything. To unearth the past, she had to stop running in the present. “I’m getting ahead of the story. I wanted to tell you about myself because I find it difficult to make new friends without being honest.”

Rae’s bright eyes sparkled and her face seemed to glow. The corners of her very kissable mouth curved into a smile. It was as if Audrey had given her a gift. “You can tell me anything, Audrey. If you want it kept confidential, just say so.” Rae reached for Audrey’s hands but seemed to reconsider. “May I?”

It took every ounce of Audrey’s resolve to refuse Rae’s touch. “I’d prefer you didn’t. I need to stay focused. This part is the shocker.” Audrey wanted Rae to hold her and tell her everything would be all right, no matter what she revealed. She wanted to be loved and accepted exactly as she was, but that hadn’t been her predominant experience.

“Say it, Audrey. What could be so bad anyway?”

“I’m psychic.”

Rae’s head tilted to the side sharply as though she hadn’t heard properly. “What?”

“Psychic, clairsentient, seer, clairvoyant, whatever you want to call it. If you tell anybody else, I’ll have you put to sleep.” Audrey joked in the hopes of dislodging the stunned look from Rae’s face. It didn’t work. Rae’s eyes opened wider and her gaze bounced around the room before settling on Audrey.

“The conversation we had the other day, was that a trick of some sort?”

“If I recall, you brought up the subject. I tested the waters.”

“And I failed miserably.”

“Please don’t start with the jokes. I’ve heard them all. What’s a blond psychic’s greatest achievement? An in-body experience. Why do psychics have to ask your name? Where do fortunetellers go to dance? The crystal ball. They’re all pretty lame.”

The jokes weren’t helping. Audrey could feel the confusion rolling off Rae. She had no idea what to say. Her attitude toward psychics had been clear, and her opinion of Audrey had probably gone off the scale on the negative side.

Rae stood and paced in front of the sofa, her mind spinning with Audrey’s revelations and her new willingness to be so exposed. While the conversation felt genuine, almost intimate, the news disturbed her. “How do you know you’re…psychic?” Even the word didn’t flow easily off her tongue. She wasn’t sure how she’d reconcile Audrey with her idea of a clairvoyant.

“I apparently come from a long line of similar relatives, gypsies, actually. I know, I’m blond and blue. We’re not all dark-haired, brown-eyed vagrants, basket makers or chimney sweeps—a common misconception. My mother was the first to break the mold and refuse to use her gift to make money fortunetelling. At first I denied I had any intuitive ability, then I ignored it, and finally I refused to use it.”

The conflict on Audrey’s face made Rae wince. It was obviously painful for her to reveal something so personal and controversial. No wonder she’d been so secretive about her past. This wasn’t the kind of thing you told folks in casual conversation. It actually wasn’t the kind of thing you told at all. Her response to Audrey’s news would be crucial.

“I’m not sure what to say.” Honesty was her only hope of getting through. “Can you tell me how you realized you could do this? I confess total ignorance on the subject.”

Audrey seemed to relax as she released a deep sigh. “I used to watch my mother make predictions for friends, help find lost children, or send clues to the police, but I never understood how she did it.

“When I was ten, a lady in the cirque came to ask about her daughter, who had been missing for months. My mother didn’t see anything, but I did. It was a horrible flash of a body inside a car in a junkyard. I blurted out, ‘She’s dead.’ It made no sense how I knew that, yet I was certain it was true. Mom hurried me from the room, scolding me for being insensitive and giving me the
rules
for delivering bad news to people.”

“Did it scare you, the first time it happened?”

“I thought I was a terrible child and was being punished. If I saw bad things, it had to mean I was bad. I couldn’t tell anyone about it. At that age all you want is to fit in, to be normal, and I definitely wasn’t. I felt so alone. Mother tried to convince me I had a great gift that I would grow to appreciate and utilize to help people. To me, it felt like a curse.”

“Your mother and your friends…?”

“Accepted me the way I was and helped me cope. The people who come to circus life are a little different anyway. I find them more tolerant than most. I fit in there.”

“And when you went away to college?” Rae asked.

The pained expression returned to Audrey’s face. “I got a bitter dose of reality when I realized that the world isn’t made up of open-minded circus people. Teenagers can be so cruel, especially if you don’t conform. I tried to intellectualize everything and ignore my feelings. My entire system felt constipated, emotionally and spiritually blocked. Does that make any sense?”

Rae imagined Audrey denying her feelings, obstructing that vital part of herself. She thought about her recent crisis of confidence and decided Audrey’s experience must have been many times worse. “Maybe a little. It’s like losing your internal guidance system.”

“Exactly.” Rae’s answer seemed to please Audrey.

“What’s it like to have this…ability?”

“You mean physically?” Rae nodded. “It can manifest in several ways. I sometimes get a tingling sensation on my face or hands or feel pressure in my head. It could be a chill, a scent, or a hazy vision or image. I might zone out for a few seconds. Sometimes I feel like my body is wrapped in fiberglass. My physical reaction often depends on what I’m picking up. And occasionally the energy around me is so disturbing I have to completely shut down. That’s the dark side of this gift.”

Rae’s heart ached for the huge burden Audrey had always carried. She believed some people had extrasensory perception and were gifted with occasional insights unavailable to the masses. But she couldn’t imagine being privy to other people’s feelings or constantly receiving unwanted images and information. She couldn’t fathom wading around in the sick minds of some of the deviants she’d encountered. Rae found it hard to accept that this could be a way of life for some. And if it was, the emotional consequence and responsibility were bound to be tremendous.