The Seer Renee (18 page)

"I know your granny's death
must have been hard—" Grace started but I put up my hand.

"Shortly afterward, a man
named Ken and a woman named Sheila showed up pretending to be tourists. Ken
paid for a fortunetelling session. Ironically, that gave everything away. I saw
their subsequent search of my home and their meeting with another man to report
progress. Then using the information from my scheduling book, they interviewed
each of my regular clients. But like Granny, I had been careful in what I said
and the results proved inconclusive. But they have devised the perfect test.
One that will prove conclusively I have Granny's gift."

"That's impossible. You would
have to tell someone the specifics of some future event and they would have to
wait to see if it happened. How are they going to get you to tell them the
future...if you would know what they were up to because you can see their
future... It's giving me a headache just thinking about it," Ron said
taking a drink of his wine.

"They are both malevolent and
clever. They have paid someone who knows nothing except she is being paid to
have me tell her future once a week. She is to be present when a given event
will occur. Thus, I will know it is going to occur. If I let it happen, then
there is a chance I can't tell the future. If I change it then it's likely I
can not only see the event, but I can influence it."

"Well, just ignore the event,"
Jim said frowning. Grace was shaking her head ever so slightly.

"How can you change the
future?" Ron asked.

"If I saw you in an accident
tomorrow driving to work, and I could convince you to stay home tomorrow, you
wouldn't have the accident."

"Well, convince the lab rat to
avoid the test," Jim said. "I assume it involves us."

"Yes. That is the beauty of
the test. If I influence the test then they have the proof."

"Well, don't influence
it," Ron said.

"Then I'd be a worse monster
than they are." I finished my wine and filled the glass again.

* * *

Jim and Ron spent the next hour
discussing the problem academically. Grace sat quietly watching me. Finally,
Grace spoke.

"So what is the test?"

"No. Right now, I doubt any of
you really believes I can tell the future with any clarity or that I can
influence it. Jim believes I'm suffering from a kind of Post Traumatic Shock Syndrome
from my previous kidnapping. Ron is wrapped up in the problem academically as
an interesting argument on whether the future can be changed or not. You are
the only one wrestling with whether I might be able to glimpse snapshots into
the future like a psychic but only because of my involvement in the
firebombing. I don't blame you. But I need to prove that I can; otherwise, you
aren't going to take any of this seriously."

"How are you going to prove
it?" Grace asked.

"Jim, get me some paper,
envelope, and pencil. Grace, put your hands on the table palms down," I
said moving my chair so I could place my hands over hers. She smiled.

"This won't work unless
something significant—"

"Quiet, please." As I
closed my eyes, the future began with such clarity it surprised me. I watched
as the rest of the evening unfolded, her return with Ron to their apartment, and
work the next day. I stopped as they returned to Jim's unit tomorrow night. I
grabbed the paper Jim was holding and began writing. When I thought I had
enough details, I folded the paper and placed it in one of the envelopes,
sealed it, and wrote
Grace
on it.
"Will you trust Jim to hold it until tomorrow?"

"Yes," Grace said.
"You're right. Jim is concerned about you and will want this test to be
tightly controlled." She took the envelope, turned it over and signed her
name across the flap. "Extra insurance."

"Ron," I said, pointing
to Grace's chair. He smiled and sat when Grace moved. I placed my hands over
his and watched as his day unfolded. I couldn't help smiling as I wrote down
the main things I had witnessed. After the envelope was sealed and Ron had
signed it, Grace looked to Jim.

"What about Jim?"

"That's what caused part of
the problem last night. When I went to see his future, I couldn't and panicked.
That reinforced his diagnostic that I was in shock. I've come to the
realization that
the gift was supposed
to be used to help others. It was not meant for one's own benefit. Granny
couldn't see her future or mine; otherwise, she might have acted differently. I
can't see my future nor Jim's because he wormed his way into my heart." I
smiled at him. "I'm in love with him, so in a sense it’s as though we were
married."

"I can't wait for tomorrow evening. Here tomorrow after work?"
Ron asked.

"What about we meet for dinner? Say seven o'clock? I'll make
reservations at the Three Sisters. The patio is fairly quiet and the tables are
well spaced apart," Jim said. We agreed and Ron and Grace left, as it was
already well past midnight and everyone had work in the morning. I decided to
stay the night, much to Jim's relief.

"Yes, I'm worried about you," Jim said after Ron and Grace
left. "I don't think you're crazy, but I know what you went through was
easily equivalent to battlefield trauma. Do I believe you can see the future? I
don't know. I'm not even sure if I’d be happier if you could or if you
couldn't. I know you believe you can, and you wouldn't lie. I'm scared."

"Me too," I grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the
bedroom. "Let see if we can't do something to distract ourselves."

Jim's face lit with the first real smile in the past two days.

Jim dropped me at my shop on his
way to the hospital. I debated on whether to open the shop, which was normally
closed on Mondays. I wasn't in the mood for customers, but on the other hand,
the thought of sitting around brooding about tonight wasn't appealing. I wasn't
sure what would be happening over the next couple of days so I decided I needed
something to keep me busy and opened at my normal time.

Business was brisk, and I wondered
if it was because many of the other businesses closed on Mondays or just
happenstance. Not being hungry, I stayed open through lunch, nibbling on some
dried apple slices. I closed late due to several customers who were interested
in my packaged herbal remedies. It had been a good day—I had kept busy
and made a nice profit. I had a quick wash and stood debating what to wear. I
discarded anything black as depressing although that was the way I was feeling.
I finally chose a mid-length, crinkle-textured skirt with a vibrant Aztec
design, a white three-quarter-sleeve tunic with a rounded neckline, and white
wedge sandals. I added a string of turquoise nuggets around my neck which
showed nicely inside the rounded neckline of the blouse. I was dressed for a
party but felt like I was going to a wake.

* * *

Jim appeared just as I had finished
dressing. He too was dressed for a party in light grey slacks, a bright-blue
with white stripes Polo sports shirt, and white-grey boat shoes.

"You look gorgeous," we
both said simultaneously and laughed.

"I love you," he said,
giving me a kiss. "I'm looking forward to tonight and learning more about
the woman I'm going to marry."

"You are incorrigible. That
brings a Chinese proverb to mind," I said.

"Patience is a virtue?"

"No. Careful what you wish
for. You may get it."

"Better a diamond with a flaw,
than a pebble without one." He took my head in his hand and kissed my
eyes, nose, and lips.

"Do you have the envelopes?"
I asked.

"In the car," he said
dragging me out and into his car. It was a short drive to the restaurant. When
we arrived Ron and Grace were already seated.

"This is lovely, Jim. You were
right; it is private for a restaurant." Ron said. "And
romantic." He squeezed Grace's hand.

"I suggest we eat first and
then discuss what's in the envelopes over coffee and dessert...or a couple of
Black Russians," Grace said with a wry smile. Everyone seemed reluctant to
open the envelopes, and we had a leisurely dinner. When the waitress returned
there was silence.

"Are you ready for coffee and
dessert? We have some amazing selections," she said, looking at Grace and
me.

Grace looked to me. "Well,
Mambo Renee, which should it be?"

"Let's start with coffee. Then
we'll see if you prefer desserts or Black Russians."

"Coffee," everyone said
as the waitress looked at each person. Jim produced the envelopes and laid them
on the table.

"Who's first?" Jim asked.
Ron and Grace stared at the envelopes for a long time. Eventually, Ron reached
over and picked up the one with his name on it, turned it over and showed
everyone his signature, and handed it back to Jim.

"Jim, why don't you read it to
us? I'll comment when appropriate."

Jim tore open the envelope, scanned
the list, and turned to give me a strange look. Then he began. "You had a
bowl of cereal, Frosted Cheerios, while you studied some papers that looked
like work. Grace left a good hour before you. On the way to work, you were
checking your iPhone when you noticed the light at Canal and Basin turn red.
You slammed on your brakes and a silver Lexus rear-ended you—"

"Oh, my God," Grace said
staring at Ron, who had his mouth open, staring at me. "Did that happen,
Ron?"

"Exactly like she said."
Ron nodded. "Read on, Jim, just in case Renee paid someone in a silver
Lexus to rear-end me." He laughed.

"The damage was minor, a
broken left-rear light. In court, you were defending an elderly man with
silver-grey hair, shorter than you, who needed a cane. Afterward, you went to
lunch with a very attractive red-head—"

"That's my insurance agent.
Tell her, Renee," Ron said rather loudly.

"Jim, open mine. And I think
it may be Black Russian time," Grace said, looking at Ron who had taken my
list from Jim and was reading it. When Jim showed Grace both sides of her
envelope, she nodded. He opened it and began to read.

"Grace, you got out of bed and
had a shower before Ron rose. You had two slices of toast with strawberry jam
and coffee. You left while Ron was getting his cereal. When you arrived at the
office three men and one woman were already there. You met with the two men,
one named Mike, in a conference room. You three were there all morning going
over files. An older man joined you just before lunch..." Jim stopped and handed
Grace my list when she put out her hand. She sat reading it and nodding.
Finally she folded it and put in back into the envelope.

"I'd suggest we order dessert
and have our waitress put them in doggy bags so we can take them home. I think
this is going to be a long night, and this is no place to discuss the issue,"
Grace said, looking at each of us. There was little conversation as we ordered
and waited for our desserts to be boxed. Jim took my hand in his.

"I'm sorry I doubted you, my
love," he said, looking on the verge of tears.

"I was hardly coherent, and
I'm not your average date." I choked out a short laugh. "Voodoo,
fortunetelling, suicide, kidnapping, firebombing... I must look like the world’s
number one screwball."

"No. I saw the real you, and
that is why I should have believed you." He pulled me to him.

"He's a keeper, Renee,"
Grace said as we rose to leave. "I've got an extra set of handcuffs if you
need them." A smile appeared, the first one since they opened the
envelopes. We went back to Ron and Grace's condo, where she prepared coffee and
set the table for our dessert.

"So you knew Mambo Monique was
going to be fire-bombed because you saw her future," Grace said as we sat.
"You need contact, correct?"

"Yes."

"But how did you know those people
had changed the target from Monique to you, when you can't see your
future?"

"I have to interpret it from
what is happening. I saw Mambo Monique standing in front of my burnt-out shop,
crying."

"Wasn't that enough proof for
whomever is testing you?"

"No. They have lots of
circumstantial evidence, but they don't have proof enough to make a move
against me. All of their evidence could be explained by a talented fake and
happenstance. When my shop got firebombed, I could have been taking inventory
as I said, and if I had involved the police there would have been more than
just you, Grace, as there would have been when I warned you about Mambo
Monique. And I could have known that through rumor or a leak as the Sheriff
thought. They are walking on a knife's edge. Kidnapping me before they are
certain has risks without rewards, and they would never know if I were lying.
And they have to be careful I don't choose Granny's solution."

"You wouldn't, would
you?" Jim whispered barely loud enough to be heard.

"Yes, I would before I'd help
them if what they want is so bad that it drove my granny to kill herself.
Granny thought the sacrifice worth it, although she had much to live for and
would have helped many in her lifetime. And it wouldn't be one event. No. I'd be
caged and at their will."

"What's this test you believe
they have devised using us? Maybe we can continue to keep the results ambiguous,"
Grace said as she sat down next to me on the couch and took my hand. Jim had my
other hand clutched in a death grip.

"That would certainly be
ideal," I said, closing my eyes. "This young woman who is being paid
to have her fortune told every week will be instructed to stand outside your
condo entrance Wednesday morning within an hour of Jim leaving for his shift at
the hospital. When she can see him, someone will shoot him twice." Tears
ran down my cheeks as the scene repeated itself behind my closed eyes.

"Damn. Bastards," Ron
half shouted.

"I won't show. I'll sleep over
at your place," Jim said. "They won't be able to prove you didn't see
me being shot."

"Yes. That is the beauty of their
test. Angela will come for a fortunetelling session the next night, and I will
see her witnessing Ron being shot as he leaves the building."

"But how do you know
that?" Grace asked.

"I know because I can
influence the future I see by persuading the person to do something different.
I asked Angela to see me on Wednesday night. When she agreed, I saw the future
where Ron was murdered."

"And me?"

"That's a supposition based on
the fact Angela is living in this building—"

"Here?" Ron shouted.

"At 1201 Canal?" Jim's
voice rose hysterically. "We could have her arrested. That would end
it."

"On what charges?" Ron
asked, shaking his head. "It sounds as though she’s done nothing wrong,
and no one has been hurt."

"And who is going to believe
Renee can see the future. I doubt you could have her arrested even after the
murder. She'd be a witness, not an accomplice, even if they believed Renee,"
Grace said. "Whoever they are, they’re clever."

Silence descended on the room. Yes,
they were clever and their test perfect. Once could have nothing to do with my
ability to see the future, twice a coincidence, but not three times.

"You aren't thinking of
committing suicide, are you?" Jim asked. His eyes were teary and his voice
shaky.

"No, otherwise I never would
have told y’all what I have. That is also the cleverness of their test. They
have to be committed to doing the murders; otherwise, I couldn't see it as a
potential future. Therefore, me committing suicide wouldn't keep you from being
murdered. They intend to kill you whether I’m alive or not."

"Certainly, they would call it
off?" Jim said, and then shook his head violently. "I don't
mean—"

"Of course, you don't," I
said quickly. "But you don't know the arrangements with the killer. They
don't know how my gift works and would have to assume the arrangement to murder
you had to be irrevocable."

"Renee's right. We are dealing
with a very well-funded and Machiavellian group. Not only Ken and Sheila, but
they knew about the Sheriff, his group, and the kidnapping. It makes me wonder
what they wanted from your granny and from you," Grace said frowning.

"I have no idea. Granny only
said what they wanted was evil." I could think of many evil things but
doubted I was in the same league as them.

"I'm torn in so many ways. I'm
dying to get the FBI involved. This group has got to be planning something that
the Bureau would be interested in, but I can't without subjecting Renee to the
government...and imprisonment."

"She's done nothing wrong,"
Jim said.

"You don't think the
government wouldn't want to know the future? They slap her in witness
protection. Except it wouldn't be witness protection. It would be government
security. Besides her life being in constant danger, she would be subjected to the
demands of government in control. That could be as bad as any other
group."

"The courts..."

Ron’s face was grim. "She’d
never see a court or lawyer, Jim. Since 9/11 and the Patriot Act, the
government has unprecedented legal powers and a hundred ways to justify their
illegal ones. Grace is right. I wouldn't trust those in power to be any less
evil. We have hundreds of examples over the years. Imagine if they could
influence the future. Scares the shit out of me. I'd rather Renee let all three
of us die." He took a deep breath. "Sorry."

"That's not necessary," I
said, freeing my hands and cutting a slice of my almond cake with lemon cream.
"I didn't expect a solution, but you needed to know the danger you’re in
and help me avoid it—for your sakes. I'm not going to help them, but they
are obviously going to use you as leverage against me."

"I think we can stop
that," Ron said. "If we document what we know and keep it where it
will be sent to the FBI in the event of our death..."

"Might work. What about the
immediate problem...their test?"

"That's easy to avoid. Their
objective is to prove I have the ability and not to kill any of you."

"If you were as evil as them,
you could let them kill the three of us, and they would let you alone,"
Ron said.

"If she were that evil, the
test wouldn't be necessary." Jim kissed my cheek.