Corpse in the Crystal Ball (3 page)

And secretly thrilled me to pieces.

“Well, I guess I better go do Granny’s grocery shopping before she ventures out to look for me.” I gave Jo a huge smile, feeling tremendously better all of a sudden. “How much do I owe you?”

“This one’s on me. Consider it my contribution to brightening your day.”

“Thanks.” I stood up, preparing to leave. “If a certain someone would give up and leave town, my
life
would brighten.”

“Excuse me. Are you Sunshine Meadows the fortune-teller?” asked a feminine voice from behind me.

My smile slipped, and the acid in my stomach hit the back of my throat. I slowly turned around and had to look up at the stunning beauty. “Sure am. What can I do for you?” I managed to say between the stiff lips of my pasted-on frozen smile.

She looked me over, sizing me up, and then said, “Hmph. I thought you’d be bigger. Oh well. I’m Isabel Gonzales. You’ll have to do, I guess.”

“For what?” I asked with dread. Something told me I was not going to like what I heard and that Little Miss Sunshine wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“A reading, of course.” Her look said,
Duh
.

“Y-You want me to do a reading for you?” I squeaked.

“That is what fortune-tellers do, isn’t it?” She glanced at Sean. “You told me she was the best, right? Because she seems a little …you know.”

I whipped around and glared at Sean, my brows puckering hard and mouth falling wide open.

Sean shot me an
I’m sorry
wince and then stared the woman down with a no-nonsense look. He might be an outrageous flirt, but he was also protective of me and loyal to a fault. “You won’t find anyone better than Sunny. If you have a problem or you need to know something, you’ve come to the right woman. Sunny can help you find the answers for sure.”

Great
. I knew Sean meant well. What better way to find out what this woman was up to than to give her a reading, right? He just hadn’t realized I also saw the past. The thought of reliving Mitch and Isabel’s love made me sick to my stomach. I blamed it on too many of Granny’s cookies and not the fact that I might be falling in love with the detective. Because that would be the biggest mistake I could ever make.

I took a deep breath and turned around to face Ms. Gonzales. Thinking of her as Isabel seemed way too intimate at the moment. “You’ve come to the right place, Ms. Gonzales. When would you like to meet?”

“The sooner the better. I need answers now.” She narrowed her eyes, and a fiercely determined look shadowed her face. She spoke as though talking to herself. “Leave without getting what I came here for? Ha!” she snapped, and then her face turned as hard as the quartz of my crystal ball. “Over my dead body.”

One week later I made yet another pass through my living room, tidying up my house. The heavily upholstered overstuffed chairs and sofa sporting uniquely shaped and curved backs sat polished and proud atop Oriental rugs that covered the hardwood floors. Damasks, silks, and velvets covering every flat surface available were clean and dust free. The draperies that dressed the stained-glass windows consisted of heavy fabrics in deep reds, greens, gold, and rich browns that blended beautifully as they hung over a lace underlining and were pulled back and secured with heavy cording and tassels.

Granny Gert had already cleaned the entire house because it was Monday. Tuesday she would tackle the laundry. Wednesday the ironing. Thursday the cooking and baking for the weekend’s entertainment, even though I
never
entertained. And Fridays were saved for getting her hair
done. Tracy down at Pump up the Volume hair salon, with its eighties-themed decor and fun atmosphere, had agreed to roll and set it for Granny every week, just like her stylist back in the city used to do.

Granny never veered from her schedule.

I normally didn’t worry about how my house looked before a reading, but with Isabel Gonzales, I couldn’t help wanting everything to look perfect. She made me feel so inadequate without even saying a word, and I hated that. I’d been so busy; this was the first chance I’d had to fit her in. That was already strike one against me in her eyes. I didn’t need two.

I loved the romance of the Victorian era, but I hated the amount of housework that went along with it. All that dark wood with ornate carvings, and end tables with marble tops, not to mention accessories, were scattered about extravagantly, with knickknacks placed on every empty space that could be found. Grecian busts and statues were strategically placed to draw the eye, as well as large dark, heavy gilded frames gracing most of the walls.

I’d never been happier to have Granny in residence.

I straightened the cushions on the sofa in my sitting area and fluffed the needlepoint pillows layered with lace and adorned with tassels, fringe, and cording. My hand hit something. I moved the pillow only to find one of Granny’s cookies. It must have fallen out of her apron pocket. She always had some on her somewhere, but if she kept leaving crumbs everywhere, mice would come calling. I hated mice, and it wasn’t like Morty would eat them.

No sooner had his name entered my mind than he appeared by my side with a look that said mice were beneath
him. I burst out laughing. Nothing looked beneath him at the moment with the big brown and tan plaid bow tie around his neck. He’d never let me put a collar on him, carrying around this air of a live-free-or-die mentality. But obviously he couldn’t say no to Granny any more than I could.

I laughed again, pressing my lips together in a vain attempt to make myself stop.

He flicked his bushy white tail and pranced into the kitchen without dignifying my laughter with a response. I followed, carrying the crumbled chocolate chip cookie to the trash. Granny Gert was just finishing up the last few touches on the eggs Benedict and pancakes she’d prepared for breakfast. I was going to gain a ton of weight with her staying here and me not doing Zumba anymore, I thought, positive my jiggly parts were already getting jigglier.

“There you are,” Granny said, drying her hands on her apron. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Granny, the sun’s not even up yet. You didn’t have to get up with me.”

“Oh, posh. I’ve been up for hours. I don’t sleep much.”

No wonder she and Morty got along so well.

I normally never gave a reading to a client at this ungodly hour, but it was the only time I could squeeze Isabel in. Otherwise, I would not be out of bed let alone dressed yet. Granny, however, never came downstairs without being fully put together. I’d never seen her with her satin nightcap on or without her false teeth in. Today was no exception. Her apron might be faded and worn, but it was always clean and pressed.

“I wanted to ask you something, but I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it,” she continued.

That piqued my curiosity. “Sure thing, Granny. You can ask me anything. You know that.”

She wrung her spotted, wrinkled hands in her apron. She’d always been laid-back and carefree but still rather straitlaced and afraid to try new things. I couldn’t imagine what was on her mind.

“Well …I thought since we haven’t heard from your mother, and I might be here for a while, that maybe it’s time I got my driver’s license.”

My brows shot up into my hairline. “Seriously? After all these years?” I was twenty-nine, my mother was fifty-nine, and Granny was seventy-nine.

She nodded her head once sharply. “Better late than never, I figure. I’ve had my permit for a long time and have taken the road test four times, but I keep failing. I just get so nervous. I almost decided to give up, but I’m not in the city anymore, and I hate being dependent on you for every little thing I need.”

“Okay. If it’s that important to you, I know a great—”

“Oh, no no no, dear. I’ve taken lessons from the best, and it hasn’t helped one bit. I’d feel much more comfortable with you teaching me in that adorable little buggy of yours.”

My bug?
Just like that my breakfast turned over in my stomach. I glanced at Morty and could have sworn he was smiling. The thought of Granny driving my bug after failing her road test four times made me ill, but how could I respond in any way other than to say yes? Family was family, and she was the best part of mine.

“Sure, Granny,” I heard myself say, though I still felt as if I were in a daze. “We’ll start this week.”

“Oh, goodie.” She clapped her hands in glee. “Isn’t that wonderful, Morty? Now you can escort me into town like the dapper young gentleman you are.”

“Speaking of that, where did you get that, um, interesting bow tie from?” I studied it suspiciously. “It kind of looks like the old curtains I found and cut up for rags.”

“It is, but that material is hardly rag worthy, dear. Look how much life it still has in it. Why, doesn’t he look darling? I found some other material you had in there that I plan to make more bow ties out of. I think I’ll make him one for each day of the week.”

I looked at Morty with sympathy, and he turned even paler than his already glowing white fur. I would owe him big-time after all this. I willed the phone to ring and for my mother to come get Granny so Morty and I could get back to that quiet normal life I was still waiting for.

The doorbell rang, and Vicky’s—that’s what I liked to call my old painted lady of a house—windowpanes rattled. I glanced at Morty and could see him quivering with excitement. Maybe my prayers had been answered and my mother had shown up in person instead.

“I got it, Granny.” I jogged to the foyer, past several large vases with huge floral arrangements and plant stands with potted palms, to open the door with a hopeful smile. Morty hissed and darted out of the room. My smile dimmed along with my hope. What I wouldn’t give to dart off after him, but that wouldn’t be very professional of me, and I was a businesswoman, after all.

“Hello, Ms. Gonzales. Please come in.” I stepped back and opened the door wide past the heavy mirrored hat stand
in the entry hall to let Isabel Gonzales inside my house. My sanctuary. My life.

Something told me “normal” would be a long time coming.

“This is where you work?” Isabel parted the strands of beads and entered the small room I used for my readings.

The rest of the house had come furnished and decorated, but my sanctuary had been left blank and empty. I took it as a sign I was meant to put my own personal stamp on the house.

“It’s small but quite cozy, I have to admit,” she went on. “It will do.” She set her enormous overstuffed silver bag, which had to have cost a fortune, on the floor and smoothed her red dress beneath her as she sat down at the table in the center of the room.

I suddenly felt frumpy in my pale green peace sign T-shirt, which matched my eyes, my flowy peach skirt, and my bare feet. I wore no makeup or jewelry. The most I had on for accessories was the pink nail polish on my toenails. I suddenly wished I’d done more than take a brush through my short blond hair, wash my face, brush my teeth, and throw something on.

The large silver hoops in her ears swung as she looked around the room. “Ewww. I’ve never liked tropical fish tanks. Too much work.” She flicked her hand dismissively. “I like the powder blue walls. They’re rather soothing.”

The lights flickered and the beads shook within my sanctuary.

Isabel frowned.

I mentally scolded Morty to behave, though I agreed with him wholeheartedly. The woman had a knack for rubbing people the wrong way.

“Glad you approve,” I finally said through clenched teeth, taking the seat opposite of her. “I find the bubbling noise from the fish tank relaxing, making it worth the chore of taking care of them.”

She had an air about her that said she thought she was better than everyone else. I couldn’t understand what had drawn Mitch to her in the first place. Maybe she hadn’t always been this way.

Only one way to find out.

“If you say so.” She pursed her ruby red lips and then looked around some more. “What are those on the ceiling?” She gestured with her long, manicured fingernails. “Constellations?”

“Stars as well as astrological signs can reveal a lot about a person,” I answered. She started to say something else, but I held my hand up. “And, yes, it was a lot of work to put those up, too, but again, well worth it,” I said through my tight smile.

She shrugged and studied her nails. “The fireplace in the corner is a nice touch, and I’ve always liked lots of plants.” Her eyes finally met mine. “So how does this whole thing work?”

“Well, first I relax and do some deep breathing, and then I hold your hands.”

“Hold my hands?” She leaned away from me as though I had cooties. What were we, five?

“Relax. I’m not into women.” Even if I were, she certainly wouldn’t be my type. At this moment, I couldn’t
imagine her being anyone’s type with her snotty attitude. “Holding your hands simply allows me to get a read on what kind of tool will work best for you.”

“Tool? I thought you were a fortune-teller, not a carpenter.”

“I’m talking about psychic tools. Tea leaves, crystal balls, tarot cards …”

“I knew that.” She placed her hands on the table in front of me. “I was just testing you. You know, making sure you’re legit.”