The Seer Renee (20 page)

Willis sat smiling at the blank
monitor, sipping a glass of Cote de Nuits between puffs on his La
Corona—a five thousand dollar celebration. The test had proved beyond the
shadow of a doubt Mambo Renee had her grandmother's gift, and it was payday.
Exactly at 10:00 p.m. the monitor lit and the smiley faces began appearing.

"Good evening, Mr. Willis. I
understand from Mr. Black that your test was very ingenious and that it proved
conclusively that Ms. Mathur has the gift of foresight." Blue's smiley
face said in a cheerful voice.

"Yes, Mr. Blue. After each
fortunetelling session with Angela, our paid viewer to witness the murders,
Renee met with her friends and made sure the intended victim for that week avoided
the place where the killing would take place. It's clear that she was able to
see each event. If there were any doubt, the last event, a bombing, was too
random for her to deduce from the first two. And they set a trap for the bomber
and caught her."

"What if she talks?"
Orange's voice was harsh.

"She doesn't know anything
except she was contracted to kill several people. Her intermediate may know the
person who contracted her services. But she's not going to rat on her
intermediate."

"Seems like a loose end."
Brown sounded concerned.

"Black, I agree. We don't want
any link to Mr. Willis. He has served us well." Blue's smiley continued to
smile.

"Consider it done,"
Black's smiley face said sounding amused. Willis shuddered. He didn't really
mind them killing Sheila as she was a possible link to him, but it was the callousness
or maybe the lack of loyalty. Sheila had been instrumental in designing,
setting up, and monitoring the test which proved Renee had the talent. Their
safety was the only concern.

"Mr. Willis, we thank you for
your services. You will be paid as promised. Are there any outstanding issues
we should know about, connections to you?" Blue's smiley face asked.

"Well, I guess there is
Sheila's partner Ken."

"Mr. Black, if you would take
care of that, and we need to arrange to secure Mambo Renee's services. The
event we have been preparing for is near," Mr. Blue's smiley face said.

"That won't work. Mambo Renee
has proved she can't be tortured into helping us, and I believe she would
commit suicide if she knew exactly what we planned."

"You are saying this was all
for nothing?" Violet sounded furious.

"No. I'm suggesting a change
of strategy. I would like to discuss it tomorrow at our regular time,"
Black's smiley face said and his voice seemed to come from within the room.
When Willis looked up a shadowy figure stood talking into a device in one hand
while leaning against the doorframe into the room.

"Tomorrow, Mr. Black,"
Blue's smiley face said and the smiley faces began to blank out one at a time.

"Mr. Willis, I'm afraid you
forgot to mention Harold and Tony," the shadowy figure said.

"But...they don't know
anything."

"Under the old strategy, you
and they weren't loose ends to be concerned about. But I'm afraid under the new
strategy, you and they are loose ends we would be better off without."

* * *

Mr. Black sat in a typical hotel
room chair in a small modest hotel room waiting for the clock to strike ten. As
it did, his hand-held device began displaying the five colored faces one at a
time.

Mr. Blue's smiley face lit last. "Good
evening, Mr. Black. My friends and I were very disappointed with your
observation yesterday and are not sure we agree."

"We have learned a great deal
about Mambo Renee over the past months. Our friend the sheriff proved she couldn't
be tortured into doing something against her will."

"Not true. She couldn't tell
him the name of the informant because there wasn't one," Green's smiley
face growled.

"She could have told him how
she knew, but she didn't. That would have stopped him torturing her. I think it's
safe to conclude torture won't work. Money won't work, otherwise she would have
taken the two million they offered to buy her out. And she is deeply religious
and would commit suicide before she would go against her ethics."

"Suicide is a sin and Voodoo
isn't a real religion," Violet’s smiley face shouted.

"You may believe God doesn't
recognize Voodoo as a religion, but she does, Mr. Violet and that is all that
matters. But if she knew we were up to something but didn't know what, I
believe she would be reluctant to commit suicide and abandon her congregation,
friends, and ability to help people through fortunetelling. In that event, we
can accomplish our initial goal over the coming months, then a change of
strategy may work and would be worth trying."

 
"With your new approach, you believe
we will at very least be able to achieve our initial goal?"

"Yes. I've cleaned up all the
loose ends, those that knew anything about Mambo Renee's talent: Willis, Tony,
Harold, and Ken"

"What about Sheila and
Angela?" Mr. Green's smiley face asked.

"They are still necessary. Angela
is part of my new approach and Sheila is her only contact. Besides, neither
Angela nor Sheila has any knowledge of us."

"What about Renee's
friends?" Mr. Orange smiley face asked..

"They are our insurance that
Mambo Renee will continue to play the game."

"Any objections to Mr. Black's
proposal?" Mr. Blue's smiley face asked. When no one said anything, he continued,
"You have our approval to precede, Mr. Black."

* * *

When Sheila answered the knock at
the door, a young bellhop stood smiling. "Ms. Volland, I have a special
delivery package for you," he said and extended the narrow box. Sheila
took it, turned it over, and tested the weight, curbing the urge to put it to
her ear.

"Just a minute," she said
and retrieved a ten dollar bill from her purse and handed it to the young man.
"Thank you." She closed the door and inspected the package. The
return address read JOBS with an address she doubted existed. When she opened
it, she found a small laptop with a green sticky with ten a.m. printed just
below a black square with a yellow smiley face. It was now nine thirty a.m. She
opened the HP laptop to find it was a thirteen-inch Spectre, one of their
better machines. Almost reluctantly, she pressed the power button. When nothing
happened she sighed in relief. The people she was dealing with this time were
more scary than usual. She sat back, wondering what this was about. She had
completed her assignment, the test had gone well, and Willis owed her the money
he promised.

All of a sudden, the screen went
black. A smiley face appeared in the center and its lips began moving. "Sheila,
I'm Mr. Black, replacing Mr. Willis, who has retired. I have deposited into
your account the three million he promised and am willing to pay another three
million for your continued services, plus expenses. Are you interested?"
The damn smiley face looked to be listening for the answer.

"Unless you want me to kill
someone in the White House, I'm very interested," Sheila said, resisting
the urge to react with the excitement she felt. "What’s the
assignment?"

"Simple, you are to continue
managing Angela who will continue to visit Mambo Renee."

"But I thought..." Sheila
stopped short of saying "You would kidnap her."

"One must adapt as
circumstances change. I've been impressed with your creativity and resourcefulness.
As a result, I decided to offer you a full-time position with me." Before
she could protest he continued. "I know you prefer to be an independent
contractor, but this pays better and provides benefits you couldn't get on your
own."

Everything clicked into place. She
had tried to contact Willis and Tony without success, which she thought strange
since he owed her money. At least Tony should have been available to set up a
meeting. Then she tried Ken's firm. They hadn't heard from him. And finally she
couldn't get hold of Harold. The group was cleaning up loose ends, which was
anyone connected with Mambo Renee. You were either in or out—permanently.

"Thank you, Mr. Black. I
accept."
Alive and wealthy or
running for the rest of my life,
Sheila mused.

"You will check your email
once every day. Angela will continue to pay for weekly fortunetelling sessions.
She will be playing a game and needs Mambo Renee's help..." Black went on
to explain the game and her part. For three million dollars she was merely
Angela's unseen go-between.

Although I doubted that Angela
would show for her fortunetelling session, I told Jim I wouldn't be coming over
and got ready anyway. To my surprise, Angela showed right on time, dressed casually,
but not less spectacularly. Her bright-yellow slacks were skin tight like they
were molded to her shapely hips, her sweat shirt a size or two too small,
prominently displaying her D-cup breasts and nipples.

"Good evening, Angela. I
thought you would be on your way back to Miami," I said, wondering why she
wasn’t. I had thought they had enough proof that I had Granny's gift.

"I've been asked to stay and
continue my fortunetelling sessions with you. I don't know what is going on,
but I doubt whoever is paying me means you well. I like you and think you're a
good person. I'll leave and go home if you want."

"Thank you. I'm sure you're
being well paid. Stay. You can use the money, and I'd rather have someone with
a good heart like you than someone else. I don't know what they are planning,
but I'm sure they will find someone else if you leave."

"I will share what I learn, if
that will help. My contact, who I've never met, has just told me they would
continue to pay me to stay. They pay very well, Mambo Renee."

"Yes, I'll just bet they do.
Sit. Let see what kind of a week you are going to have," I said, wondering
what surprises they had in store for me. As I watched, Angela took a couple of
nights off to relax each week. Nothing seemed to happen for the two months I
watched. "It looks like you are going to be here for quite a while, but it
looks like you're slowing down, taking a couple of days off each week. That
nice guy is still hanging around."

"Sounds like I don't feel
rushed to make it while I can. Hope that sounds good for you."

"I guess we are both going to
have to wait to see what they expect from us." I was certainly confused. I
thought they would be moving to kidnap me or threaten me with something, but
what I saw didn't seem consistent with either scenario.

"Mambo is like a priest, and
Voodoo is a real religion isn't it?" Angela asked after I removed my
hands.

"Yes." I got up and
walked over to my books to pull out a small, fifty page book on the Vodou religion.
"If you are interested, here is some light reading when you are lazing by
the pool. It outlines the history of the Vodou religion and gives a brief
overview of its main beliefs."

"How much," she said
reaching for her purse.

"It's free with no obligation
to read it. Some religions believe it’s the participants’ obligation to recruit
new members. I don't. To me, religions, through their priests, are there only
to help a person develop a strong connection to God."

"What about a sinner like
me?" Angela asked hesitantly.

"I'm not much on the Bible,
but it seems to me Jesus had no problem with prostitutes. You mean no one harm,
and the act of sex breaks no law of God I know of," I said, thinking about
the Ten Commandments, which most religions endorsed in one form or another.
"You provide a service for money like I do."

Angela roared with laughter.
"You're comparing your service to mine? They don't arrest
fortunetellers." She gave me a hug which I returned. "Thank you for
the book, Mambo Renee. See you next week."

* * *

"What's the latest,
Renee?" Grace asked as we settled down with our plates and drinks. When I
wouldn't agree to staying at either Jim's or their unit, she had insisted on a
weekly Saturday night party. We alternated units weekly and the meals were usually
ordered from restaurants that had take-out. Tonight it was sushi.

"They appear to have changed
tactics. I expected them to either kidnap me or come by and threaten me.
They've done neither."

"I wish you would close your
shop and move in with Jim or us. We would worry less. I feel like calling you
every hour to see if you are all right," Grace said to nodding heads.

"You and I know if they decide
to kidnap me, you couldn't stop them and would only get hurt trying. And if I
were willing to close my shop and hide, I'd be better off trying to disappear
altogether."

"Good idea. I'll go with
you," Jim said.

"Anyway, they are paying
Angela to stay in New Orleans and to keep her regular weekly fortunetelling
session with me. I saw nothing unusual over the next two months."

"You can see two months into
the future?" Ron asked, stroking his chin in thought. "You could tell
me the verdict..."

"But then would you work as
hard for your client? Then you would stop accepting cases you wouldn't win. And
maybe some of those people are innocent, and you would only lose them because
you had become lazy."

"You're right. Like knowing
the answers to a test. You would get an A but have learned nothing."

"I think the news is good. If
they want Angela to keep seeing you, they aren't planning to abduct you in the
near future. That gives us time," Grace said. "I'm afraid the news on
our bomber isn't encouraging. We believe she's an international assassin from
what we've been able to piece together, but I doubt we can ever prove it. She
is a very careful person and prepared well for being caught. The name she gave
us doesn't have a record, and her official residence doesn't contain any clues
to her activities. She only lives there briefly during any given year. Her
lawyer is excellent. He's confined all our questions to the bomb incident,
which he won't let her answer beyond saying that someone paid her to deliver
the bomb to my car. She claims she didn't know the phone number to activate it,
what the bomb was going to be used for, or who made it. I wouldn't be surprised
if the District Attorney wouldn't end up giving her a plea deal to some minor
charge since he's facing years of legal proceedings and could lose in the end.
Her lawyer is good and will certainly raise lots of probable doubt with any
jury."

"So that's a dead end,"
Jim said in disgust.

"Yes."

* * *

Mambo Monique attended my Sunday
service, which delighted me, as I hadn't seen her in several weeks what with
all the excitement. "I'm thrilled you came. I've been distracted for the
past couple of weeks. They have been testing me."

"That makes sense. They need
to be sure. Are they?"

"Yes. I couldn't fail the test
without being as evil as they are. Nor could I avoid it."

"Can you share your plans with
me?"

"They are the ones with plans.
I can only wait and react. For now, I’ll continue my services and provide
whatever help or comfort I can."

"Spoken like a true mambo.
Mambo Eshe would have been very proud of her granddaughter. If you don't mind,
I'll stay for the service.”

After walking around talking with
those attending, I drew the ve've for Legba-Papa Labas and began. As I chanted
prayers and danced I felt alive with energy, relieved of my worries and
fears—touched by the Loa.

* * *

Life seemed to have returned to normal.
I spent the days in my shop, nights working on my website or telling fortunes
or with Jim. Oatha had a session, which showed nothing exciting, and we spent
most of the time talking about her children.

Ellen had her monthly session. Her
future showed her doing well at work. She had paid for her friend's breast
surgery and the prognosis was good based on what I could deduce from Ellen's
visits.

"Mambo Renee, I believe in God
but admit I don't belong to any organized religion," she said after her
session. "And have to admit I don't know what to think of Voodoo as a
religion. But I know if I felt the need for moral counsel I would come to you.
You may be young, but you put others’ needs above your own and have a good
sense of right and wrong. I keep wanting to give you money although I know that
is not what motivates you. Consider it a donation for you to use to help others
as you've helped me or towards a place of your own someday to hold services."

On Thursday I had my normal session
with Angela. This time she was dressed for partying. I saw nothing that seemed
to be directed at me, which was both a relief and a concern—relieved that
there were no immediate threats but concerned over what they were planning.
Angela was their connection to me, and they had to be planning something
otherwise they would have let her leave, but what?

Jim and I almost seemed married. If
it hadn't been for the shop, I would have moved in with him. I was definitely
in love and would have accepted a proposal of marriage if it hadn't been for
the group after me. And he had made it crystal clear he had proposed and would
wait my decision—well, more wait for me to set a date. The man was my
dream come true and biggest worry. It drove me insane worrying about the group
hurting him to get at me, knowing I wouldn't help them even for Jim.

* * *

"What's new?" Grace asked
as her chopsticks deftly delivered a piece of Kung Pao chicken into her mouth.

"Nothing. Life seems good. My
business is more profitable than it has ever been, thanks to the Internet and
fortunetelling clients. I've found the love of my life and have fantastic
friends." I paused for a sip of tea.

"Angela's life is still
normal?" Grace asked. She was an action-oriented woman and wanted
something to happen so she could spring into action. I was content to wait and
enjoy whatever time I had left.

"Yes, too normal. If it
weren’t for the fact that the birds have stopped chirping, the tide has receded
a thousand yards out to sea, and we have oceanfront property, I'd say life was
great."

Ron choked out a laugh. "A tsunami
is hell on oceanfront property."

"We'll sell up and move
inland," Jim said, pushing his orange flavored beef around with his
chopsticks.

* * *

I tried to enjoy the moment each
day. Everyone I knew appeared to be experiencing good times, including me, but
Thursday sessions loomed ahead each week with unknown ramifications. I had
considered telling her I wouldn't give her any more fortunetelling sessions,
but I instinctively knew Jim or Ron or Grace's life would be threatened.

When Angela appeared, I knew
immediately things had changed. She was dressed in sweats that might have been
a size too big, although it would have been hard to hide Angela's figure
completely.

"Hi, Angela. I almost didn't
recognize you. Are you in disguise?" I asked and gave her a hug—she
looked so serious.

"I guess this is the real me,
dressed to curl up with a good book and a glass of wine in front of a warm
fire. I'm afraid the game has started although like before I don't understand
it. Then I was asked to stand somewhere at a specific time to see something but
nothing ever happened...because you stopped it. Now it's a silly game although
I doubt it's silly. The money is great but I'd leave rather than hurt
you." Her eyes misted. She was right. This was the real Angela: a kind
gentle soul who was just trying to survive like the rest of us.

"No, you might as well take
their money because I don't plan on giving them a return on their
investment." I laughed, and she rewarded me with a smile. "Tell me
about this game."

"It's simple. They gave me a
laptop with this weird game on it. They send me an email telling me to activate
the computer. When I do, three smiley faces appear with different colored
backgrounds and a small checkbox below each one. I'm to check one of the boxes.
If I guess right they will send me five thousand dollars." She shrugged.

"Do you have to pay to guess?
And how do you find out whether you guess right?" I asked wondering how
this involved me—which it had to.

"Sometime each day I turn on
my computer, activate the program, and look to see if a result is posted.
However, the results wouldn't be posted for weeks so I suppose you have to tell
me whether I guessed right or wrong. Then I notify them. If I was right, they
will send me five thousand dollars. Does that make sense?" she asked,
watching me closely.

"Last time it was a test. They
wanted to see if I could see what you did. This time I admit I'm not sure. Let
play their game. I promise you I won't let you get hurt." Of course, I would
warn her if I saw she was in danger.

"I trust you, Mambo
Renee," she said, and laughed as she sat down at the table. "Let’s
play, we can split the money."

I put my hands over her and
watched. As with the two previous sessions, she took time off from working to
relax, dressing comfortably when she went out those days. The man that she had
met and was treating as a boyfriend rather than a client continued to date her.
Then I saw it. It was the night before what would be our second session. She
turned on her laptop and a smiley face with a green background appeared. I took
my hands away. "Green."

"That was the one I picked. We
just made two thousand five hundred each." She smiled.

"No, it's yours, Angela, but I
appreciate the thought. Hopefully, it will enable you to retire in comfort. I
don't see any problems for the next couple of weeks."

"I read your book on Vodou. It
was very interesting. Would you mind if I attended your next service. You know
what I do..."

"I'd be honored. You can watch
and afterward I'll answer any questions you have. You will find others,
including my boyfriend, there watching." I gave her the time and address
before she left. I just hoped I wasn't endangering her life by letting her get
close to me. The tingle I felt under the horse head tattoo reassured me I had
done the right thing—I think.

* * *

"If you tell me nothing
happened, I'm going to scream," Grace said as she put the two buckets of
Colonel Sander's fried chicken on the table.

"You're in luck." I had
to smile. Grace was like a race horse in the starting gate. "The game has
begun..." I went on to explain what Angela had told me.