Lethal Outlook: A Psychic Eye Mystery (18 page)

BOOK: Lethal Outlook: A Psychic Eye Mystery
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“See, this is where Tristan’s alibi gets him into trouble,” Candice said, suddenly changing tack entirely. “According to the police report, he—”

“How’d you get a copy of the police report?”

Candice waved an impatient hand my way. “Brice got it for me through some connection he had. Anyway, Moreno told
the police that he headed out to see a client of his in Dallas, but the client couldn’t confirm it because the client had canceled. Tristan says that he forgot his cell phone at home and didn’t notice he didn’t have it on him until he was too far away to go back without being super late for his meeting with the client. So there’s no way to track his whereabouts that afternoon. He didn’t use the GPS in his Lexus, and with no cell phone in the car, there was nothing to provide a record of pings on the drive. Sure, he could have gone to Dallas, or he could have invented the story just for the purpose of laying the groundwork for reasonable doubt should it come to that.

“But, I’m getting ahead of myself,” Candice said, whipping around to pace back the other way. “Back to the list. Since you picked up a guilty vibe off Bailey,” she said, “I thought I’d organize a spreadsheet of people both girls have in common. Those names on the list are people connected to both girls according to Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus, Pinterest, Foursquare, and LinkedIn, which were all the active social sites I could find accounts for in both Bailey’s and Kendra’s names.”

“Whoa,” I said taking in the long list again. “I’m seriously impressed, honey.”

She scowled. “Don’t be. In fact, I’m starting to really regret all that effort.”

“Why?”

Candice stopped pacing and sat back down with a tired sigh. In an instant it was like all that high energy seemed to seep right out of her. “Because now we’ve got at least sixty potential suspects, Abs—not including Tristan, whose alibi I just don’t.”

I squinted at her. “Don’t what?”

“Buy. Who’s alibi I just don’t buy.”

I stared at her wondering what the heck to say to
that
.

“It was more clever in my head.”

I looked away. Most of what she was saying would probably have been far more clever eight cups of coffee and sixteen hours ago.

“The point is, Abs, that there’s no way we can possibly work our way through that list in less than a month. In fact, it might take us two or more.”

I frowned. I could see what Candice was getting at. By opening up the suspect pool to anything bigger than a half dozen people, she’d effectively made our little two-man team completely undermanned.

“Is there maybe a way to break this list down and prioritize it?” I asked. “You know, into subgroups of close friends, not-so-close friends, acquaintances, work associates…stuff like that?”

“I’ve already done that,” Candice said, reaching over me to wiggle her finger over the mouse pad. A moment later I was looking at another spreadsheet with about a dozen names. “These are girls Kendra and Bailey went to school with.” As I started to read the list of names, Candice hit the button again and yet another spreadsheet popped onto the screen. “And these are professional contacts from—”

“Hold on,” I said, interrupting her. “Can you go back for a sec?”

Candice moved the spreadsheet back to the previous page and I looked for the name on the list that had jumped out at
me. “Her,” I said, pointing to the name I swore I recognized. “Hold on,” I added, getting up and limping quickly into my office, where I grabbed my appointment book and brought it back to Candice’s desk. Flipping through the pages, I found what I was looking for and held up the book for her to see. “Jamie Gregory. She came in for a reading August sixth, the day I came back to work.”

“You think it’s the same girl?” Candice asked, swiveling the computer toward her to stare at the screen again. “Oh, man, Abs! If that is the same girl, then we may have just hit some pay dirt! Do you think you can call her, see if she’ll talk to us?”

But I wasn’t really listening to her. I was trying to recall Jamie and her reading with me. I remembered my first day back and the butterflies that’d been in my stomach, which were always there whenever I took any time off from doing readings.

But intuition isn’t one of those things that fades from nonuse, which was proved to me again when I came back to my private practice on August sixth and had three terrific sessions in a row.

Glancing at my appointment book, I could see that Jamie had been my third client that day. Three out of four I knew had been awesome readings, but my fourth client had been a bit of a dud. Wouldn’t you know that was the only person I could recall with any real clarity? Of the other three, I only remembered the feeling of nailing the details so well that each one had gasped and stared at me wide-eyed. But those three faces tended to blend together in my memory, and for
the life of me I couldn’t recall what Jamie looked like or what I’d said to her.

“Do you remember her?” Candice asked, obviously reading my expression.

“No,” I said, but then I thought of something and sucked in a breath. “Come with me,” I told her, turning on my heel again and heading back to my office.

Candice followed and sat down in the chair in front of my desk while I eased into mine and opened up my laptop.

Not long ago I’d finally upgraded to digitally recording all of my sessions. After the session was over and the client paid, I e-mailed them the WAV file of the reading and kept a copy for myself, just in case the person lost it or it failed to download it. I kept all these readings on my hard drive, and after doing a short search I came up with Jamie’s session. Pumping up the volume, I pressed play and turned the computer a little so that Candice could hear the whole thing.

“Okay, Jamie, the very first thing I’m getting from the ether around you is that your love life is smack-dab in the middle of a transition. I feel like within the past two months you may have split up with someone you really, really loved, but it just wasn’t working out. Is that right?”

“Yes! Oh, my God! Abby, you’re good! My ex-boyfriend and I split up in June.”

I closed my eyes as the memory of the reading began to come back to me. I could now recall Jamie’s face. She’d been a petite little thing, with a round face and freckles giving her the appearance of someone younger than she was. “And that relationship had been very much on-again, off-again before
you guys made the permanent split in June, correct?” my recorded voice continued.

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m feeling like I need to tell you, Jamie, that this time, the split is permanent. You two aren’t getting back together.”

“Oh,” she’d said, and even now I could detect the disappointment in her voice.

“You were hoping I’d say something different, weren’t you?”

“No,” she lied. “No. I’m good with it. He’s a great guy, but I don’t want to get back with him.”

I opened my eyes and looked at Candice meaningfully, and she nodded. She’d heard the note of disappointment too. “Well,” my voice said from the computer, “I’m glad you’re not disappointed, because splitting up was the right move for both of you. Did you know he’s moving away?”

There was the sound of a gasp on the recording. “He is?”

“Yes. He’s moving to New York. And the move will be quite sudden. I think he’s following a job offer or a transfer. Either one will be very advantageous to his career. And Jamie, he won’t be coming back.”

I smiled and rolled my eyes a little at my own voice coming through the computer. I never openly fought clients’ insistence that they were over a past love even when the ether spoke otherwise, but it was just like me to keep drilling the demise of the relationship into them. I always felt it was better to know there was no hope of getting back together with someone, because it was often the only way for
them to be open to receiving an even better relationship down the road.

“Now, what’s interesting about your energy, Jamie, is that I see you taking this man’s move quite hard. I feel it might upset you in ways you hadn’t anticipated, and while I can understand that, I want to tell you that the longer you spend thinking about what could have been, the longer you’ll delay getting on with your life. I feel like you’ll want to shut the door on romance for a while, and I can tell you that your decision to do that would only cause you more sadness. Denying yourself the joy of a new relationship just because you don’t want to be disappointed again is absolutely the wrong move for you. Does that make sense?”

“I…I guess,” she’d said.

“Good. Now, my advice to you is to start dating again. But don’t date with any expectations about finding the right guy. Just have fun. Enjoy broadening your social circle. Go out there and kiss a few frogs, and if one of them turns into a prince, awesome. If you just date frogs for a while, then have a great time. And before long, don’t be surprised if someone who hadn’t been on your social radar at all begins to work his way into your life in a very important way. This man’s emergence is unexpected, Jamie. I feel like he’s a very good guy, but he’s got a lot of stuff on his own plate right now. And many of those loose threads need to be wrapped up before anything can start between the two of you, but I feel like, by the time next spring or summer comes around, you two might become a little bit more than just friends. And the energy around your future relationship with this man
feels so good. In fact, it feels better than good; it feels great. You both have a lot of love to give, and when the time is right, I think this would be a great match.”

At this point I must have felt satisfied with the topic, because I’d moved on to other things. “How’s the house hunting coming?”

Jamie gasped again and started laughing. “You are blowing my mind, Abby. I’ve been shopping for a condo for the past two months, but I haven’t been able to find one I really like that I can also afford.”

You could hear my own laughter through the computer. “Two months? Well, no wonder you’re not finding anything, Jamie. You should be looking at houses, not condos.”

“A house? Really? I was thinking that was going to be too much for me to handle.”

I smiled when I found myself shaking my head as I listened. More and more of the reading was coming back to me. I knew I’d very likely shaken my head at her then too. “No, it won’t be too much for you, Jamie. You’ll find something small, no more than two bedrooms, but they’re a nice size and the house feels warm and inviting. Look at single-story, two-bedroom homes and you’ll be on the right track. Oh, and with the spacious backyard your home will come with, you’re finally gonna get that dog you’ve been thinking about.”

There was yet another little gasp on the recording. “Really?” she’d asked me, her voice high and squeaky. “I’ve been thinking about getting a dog for a while. You know, to take my mind off the breakup, and I’ve been volunteering down
at Austin Pets Alive on the weekends. There’s this adorable little King Charles mix that I’m just in love with.”

“Oh, that dog is totally yours,” I’d told her. “I’m surprised you’ve resisted scooping him up for this long, actually. Call your Realtor this afternoon and tell her that you want to skip the condos. You’d rather look at ranch-style homes, especially anything in a bold color like red or yellow. I feel like the house that’s made for you will come in a very bright color.”

“Really?” she’d said, a bit of skepticism in her voice. “That wouldn’t be something I’d normally go for.”

“Humor me,” I’d told her dryly.

Candice laughed and quickly tried to stifle it, but I knew that she was thinking that I could be a little smug about telling my clients what they needed to do.

Abruptly, I’d switched topics again. “Say, do you know a girlfriend who’s launching her own business? Something online maybe?”

There was a slight pause, then, “You know, I do have two girlfriends who’re going into business with each other—”

Whatever Jamie had been about to say after that I couldn’t know, because I’d run right over her with the rest of my impressions. “Two girlfriends? Oh, well, that won’t work. Listen, you tell the girl who’s got the brown hair to just do this thing on her own, okay? Tell her that I know she may think the girl with the blond hair is a friend, but I’m here to tell you, she’s not. And this brunette should stay away from her. Seriously. It feels like their association with each other means
nothing but trouble for the brunette. And I’m not sure why…”

My gaze snapped back to Candice, who was already eyeing me keenly as she mouthed, “Kendra and Bailey?”

I nodded vigorously, while on the recording Jamie said, “Oh, you don’t have to tell me.
I
know the blonde’s not a friend. But I haven’t figured out how to tell the brunette.”

“Be blunt,” I’d told her. “And tell her. It’s important.”

Candice and I listened to the rest of the reading, but there was nothing more about the blonde and the brunette, which I was convinced was a reference to Kendra and Bailey. Once the tape was finished, I closed the lid of the laptop and asked Candice, “What do you want to do?”

“Do you have Jamie’s address on file?”

I opened my laptop again and did a quick search. “All I have is her e-mail.”

Candice got up and moved to the hall. “I’ll get it,” she said over her shoulder.

A minute or two later she was back. “I have an address at an apartment that’s about a year old, and a new address on Forty-second Street near Duval.”

I smiled. “Looks like someone just bought her first home.” I recognized the cross streets as part of a cute residential neighborhood on Austin’s central east side.

“She could be renting,” Candice pointed out.

“Yes, she could be. But she isn’t.” Sometimes I just
know
I’m right. Those are the times I may also try other people’s patience.

Candice held up her wrist to check the time. “She’s probably at work right now.”

“And I have a client in ten minutes!” I gasped, suddenly realizing I was late getting my reading room ready.

“Is that your only one?”

I shook my head, getting up from my desk to hobble quickly into the next room. “I have a full list of six clients today all back-to-back except for the half-hour lunch in between.” I grabbed a pack of matches and began to light candles.

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