A Murder in Mohair (9 page)

“No . . . it's okay. I'll stay.” Phoebe's tone was shaky but Lucy could see her curiosity had won out.

Cassandra took the thick deck of cards and shuffled several times, then passed it to Suzanne. “Why don't you start? Shuffle the cards a few times and think of your questions or concerns. When you're done, just set the deck down in front of you. I feel your energy,” she added. “You have a powerful soul. A warrior's soul.”

“Gee . . . thanks. I'm not exactly a pushover.” Lucy could see Suzanne glow at the compliment—she did fancy herself as a tough cookie. With a heart of gold, of course.

Cassandra knew how to endear herself to her clients, didn't she? Lucy wondered what the psychic would say when her turn rolled around.

The room was silent and eerie in the shadowy light, the soft swishing sound of the cards like a bird's wing, gently flapping. Suzanne set the deck down and turned to the psychic.

“I'd like you to make three piles, facedown,” Cassandra said. “They don't need to be even. Anyway you like.”

Suzanne stared at the cards a moment, as if this was an important decision, then split the deck. She sat back and took a breath.

Cassandra smiled gently. “Don't be nervous. Even if I see a challenge, I'll explain it in the most positive light. There's a spiritual solution to every problem. And a new beginning in every ending. I want you all to remember that.” Her soft voice reassured them as she flipped the top card of each pile.

Lucy had to admit, that wasn't bad advice at all. In general. She already expected to see a few challenges in her cards.

Suzanne leaned over to stare at the cards that were revealed.

Then she glanced at her friends. “I know zilch about the tarot . . . are those cards good or bad?”

Cassandra shook her head. “There's no such thing as good or bad. Think of it as information. It's your choice to take action on these messages, or not. There is no predetermined future for anyone, though we all have a path or goal our souls have chosen before our birth here on Earth.”

Here on Earth? Were there any other planets to choose from? Lucy wondered. She decided it best not to ask. Cassandra was clearly in the card-reading zone now.

She picked up each card, puzzled over it a moment or two, then pushed it to the center of the table. Then she flipped out a few more cards from each deck to make neat rows underneath.

Suddenly she pointed to the first card, a picture of three figures fighting in a field with wooden rods. Cassandra touched it with the tip of her index finger, her long lavender fingernail making a tapping sound.

“You're having some conflict at your workplace? Some . . . rivalry?” she asked Suzanne.

“Yes!” Suzanne sat up straight in her seat, as if struck by a cattle prod.

Cassandra did not react, her eyes on the cards. “The energy is very strong, masculine, I'd say. But it could be a woman with a strong personality. We all have both masculine and feminine energy,” she explained.

True, Lucy thought. But that does get her off the hook from saying for sure if she sees a man or a woman, doesn't it?

“Perhaps there are two rivals? Or a boss and a colleague?”

“Well . . . I am in a situation like that. With another saleswoman. She stole two big sales from me this spring. I don't know what to do. I don't want to complain about her to our boss and sound like a crybaby.”

“I can see that. . . . You're the strong, independent figure, on this side.” Cassandra pointed again. “Your manager favors her? Is that right?” Cassandra glanced up at Suzanne to confirm this guess.

Suzanne shrugged. “Maybe . . . Walter, the broker, likes anyone who makes him money.”

Oh brother . . . fish, fish, fish. Was Suzanne really going to fall for this? Cassandra already knew that she was in sales, from their conversation in the diner, and maybe had even learned more about all of them from Nora.

But Suzanne seemed to be eating it up. At this rate, she wouldn't have any appetite left for their Chinese takeout.

“I can see from the cards below . . . this man with the bags of gold at his feet,” Cassandra explained, pointing out another card. “He's interested in his business flourishing, whatever the cost. His intentions are not good or bad. Just self-serving.” She looked up at Suzanne. “He might promise to solve it. But he really doesn't want to.”

“Ha! That's Walter, all over.” Suzanne sat back and shook her head. “But what should I do? How can I keep her from poaching listings from me?”

Cassandra took a breath and focused on the cards again, turning a few more over in the next pile. “This second card, a man tending to rows of wheat. This is a card of patience. The harvest comes to those who wait and focus on their own endeavors. This is the card of what can be.” She flipped over a few more cards in that pile and glanced at Suzanne again. “It appears this situation will clear of its own accord. If you focus on tending to your own rows, so to speak,” she added with another small smile. “You have great things in store for you, real victories—coming in late summer, or early fall.” She pointed to the last card Suzanne had turned over. A gladiator, riding a chariot with two wild-looking horses on the reins, one white and one black. “This is the chariot rider, returning from battle. He's victorious but still must control the two horses, all the divergent energies. You're a very busy woman, moving in many directions. Taking action on many fronts,” Cassandra said, characterizing Suzanne perfectly as she flipped over more cards from that deck. “Just stay calm and keep things under control. You have the strength and will to be victorious.”

“Wow . . . thank you.” Suzanne definitely looked pleased. “I guess I have more questions. About my kids, mainly. But maybe someone else should go.”

“I'm game,” Lucy piped up.

Under the table, Phoebe tugged Lucy's sleeve, her head subtly shaking. “Don't do it,” she whispered.

Lucy glanced at her and winked. Most of her friends thought she was so gullible. But she'd always thought Suzanne was nobody's fool and she'd gotten sucked right in.

I'm going to show them that this Cassandra just plays you, works with what she observes, and then feeds back what you want to hear. I won't give her any clues at all, Lucy decided. Then let's see what the cards say.

The deck of cards was slid down the table. Lucy shuffled and split the deck into three piles, just like Suzanne had done.

Cassandra moved around the table and Maggie moved her chair aside to make a space. Lucy felt intimidated with the psychic hovering over her shoulder in the shadowy light. Her otherworldly expression and strange eyes seemed even spookier. But Lucy focused on the cards and held fast to her resolve.

“You're a bit tense. Just breathe, Lucy. Relax.” Cassandra closed her eyes and took in a deep breath herself. Lucy did the same, her eyes open, though.

Cassandra studied the cards Lucy had turned faceup and nodded to herself with a small smile, as if acknowledging some private amusement.

“The Queen of Cups . . . fair and dreamy. Creative, sensitive, and gentle. Usually a water sign.”

It was Phoebe who reacted with a loud gasp, turning quickly. “You
are
a water sign . . . Cancer the Crab. And she's an artist, too,” Phoebe added.

Lucy sighed, mentally thanking her . . . not. So much for not giving anything away.

She glanced at Cassandra. “So that card is supposed to be me, the Queen?”

Cassandra nodded. “Yes, it is. You don't feel like a queen now, though. You are having some challenges in your kingdom. In your relationship sector.”

Lucy forced a bland face, then realized she was trying to force it, maybe even sucking her lower lip.

Her friends shifted in their seats, too. Except for Dana, who sat perfectly still, her hands clasped in front of her as she observed, as if from behind a one-way mirror.

Hiding her own reaction was not as easy as Lucy had expected. At least she didn't reply, just glanced at Cassandra.

Cassandra looked at the next card. “Interesting . . . more cups. There's some challenge or obstacle you're facing in this relationship . . . maybe even a deception? This card, with the full moon and howling dogs . . . something is concealed. Things are not what they appear.”

“That's often true,” Lucy said quietly, feeling a little sting as that arrow hit its mark.

“This card sometimes brings the message of a clandestine relationship, or a secret. But it also signifies that the secret will soon come to light. The action is happening at night. But in the full light of day everything looks different.” Cassandra turned, her blue gaze zeroing in on Lucy like a laser.

Lucy met her gaze a moment and looked away, feeling quite uncomfortable. She was determined not to react but could feel the color rising warmly in her cheeks. Her fair, dreamy cheeks, one might say.

She was facing an obstacle with Matt right now, wasn't she? Suzanne seemed to think so. She certainly hoped there was no deception and reminded herself not to react. At least not openly.

Matt was not deceiving her . . . was he? A clandestine relationship . . . did that mean an affair? Oh, he wasn't having an affair, that was for sure. But there might be a secret. Something concealed. They were happy together. But things were not as they seemed. He wasn't ready to get married and didn't even want to talk about it?

This is all baloney, Lucy. Don't get sucked in.

Cassandra flipped out a row of cards in the second pile. “There's a tall man . . . a suitable match. But some question hovers above. The Hanged Man. Indecision. Inability to take action.”

Of course she'd guess that I'm involved with a tall man. I'm tall, right? And I'm not wearing any rings. Dead giveaway that I'm single.

But who can't take action . . . me or the “tall man”?

Lucy didn't want to ask the question; either choice would be disturbing.

But what in the world did it matter what Cassandra Waters predicted about her life? You're taking this much too seriously, she reminded herself. You promised that you wouldn't, remember?

Still, she couldn't help meeting Cassandra's gaze.

“What does that last card mean?” Lucy asked quietly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

It was a lonely-looking picture, a bit unsettling—a long, bleak figure wearing a hooded cloak and carrying a lantern.

“That's the Hermit. Isolation. The Hermit ponders important questions, searching with his lamp for answers. It could mean this question will be resolved . . . and you are alone.” She glanced at Lucy, quickly turning more cards. “But the card could also signify a time of isolation and meditation is over and a resolution is about to be found. It could mean you should ready yourself to move out in public. Buy new clothes. Celebrate some event.”

Lucy was about to reply, but Cassandra raised her hand. She closed her eyes and seemed to be listening to distant music . . . or distant voices. She quickly looked back at the table and turned more cards until she reached one that seemed satisfying.

“Here . . . that's what they said,” she murmured to herself. She pointed to the last card she'd turned from the third deck. “This house with garlands and dancing women? There is a celebration in your near future, a gathering of friends and well-wishers. It will be in the summer. Very soon, most likely.”

She looked back at Lucy, seeming satisfied she'd reached the right conclusion. Or the spirits had given her the full message? “Whatever this question is, it will be resolved. You will be at ease at this point, having decided your course.”

Lucy nodded, but still didn't know what to make of that conclusion. Her birthday was coming, a likely date for a celebration. But she and Matt had not planned a big party, just a night in Boston at the theater and a good restaurant. Her friends had said they wanted to have a cake for her at a knitting meeting and give her gifts then.

Everybody goes to parties in the summer—do you need to be psychic to know that?

And everybody hopes that their questions will “soon be resolved.”

Lucy sighed and looked back at Cassandra, who now stood beside Maggie, waiting for Lucy's response.

“Do you have any more questions?”

Lucy shook her head. “I'm good, thanks. That was . . . interesting,” she added, feeling she should say something more.

She looked around the table, wondering who would go next.

Cassandra leaned over and gathered up the cards. She nodded, looking pleased and satisfied at the reading. If she sensed Lucy's doubt and suspicion, she gave no hint. She clearly had confidence in her powers. Another method that put her act over.

Lucy hoped her friends didn't jump all over this Queen of Cups thing now—but she doubted they'd be able to resist. She cringed, imagining future nicknames . . . Queenie, maybe? Cassandra had nailed her with that card, but it could have been the luck of the draw.

But it appeared that the psychic could quickly and deftly fashion an interpretation to any card that fit her eager listener, no matter which strange image rose to the top of the deck. That actually
was
a talent, Lucy reflected. Along with her considerable acting skills.

Maggie went next and after her, Dana. Phoebe decided to pass, having had enough contact with the spirit world from the sidelines. Lucy was not surprised.

Cassandra had already pegged Maggie. Her reading was fairly predictable, Lucy thought. The psychic focused on Maggie's creativity and how she shared her artistic talents with the world, but was not always a keen businesswoman. Lucy didn't think that was true, Maggie was very sharp at business. But always room for improvement there, right? And an issue the psychic might sense was a sensitive one. She also talked about past relationships, sniffing out Maggie's marriage to Bill, who she guessed had “passed to the other side.”