Page 123 of Power of the Mind

“Everything is beyond my budget. I’ll figure it out.”

He got in the car.

On his instruction, I drove around the block to where he had parked on a side street and pulled in behind it. Engine off, I shifted to face my sulky best friend. “I’m going in your stead.”

“Is this you being a martyr?”

“No. It’s me investigating a suspicious woman. She’s up to no good.”

“You’reinvestigating? Your stalkery brute let you?”

“Don’t call him that. But yes. It’s my case. Diem is letting me handle all the details. I think he regrets it, but he has yet to fire me.”

“Are you his partner now?”

“Nonpartner. It’s the same thing, except the wording is less scary for Diem.” I waved it off. “It’s like the nonboyfriend, nonlover fiasco. We’re getting there.”

“I thought I won the bet.”

“You did. Believe me, it will be a cold day in about 2097 when Diem finally gets around to asking me out on that date.”

Surprisingly, Memphis looked apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“You like him?”

“Oddly, yes. A lot. So if you could stop being nasty, it would be nice.”

“I’ll try.” He motioned in the direction of Madame Rowena’s. “You’d better get moving. My appointment was supposed to start ten minutes ago.”

“Are you sticking around?”

“Do you need me?”

“Always, but no. I have the whole thing sorted. I plan to play her nonsense games, and when I’ve had enough, I’ll feign the onset of a migraine. It’s nothing more than a bit of onsite reconnaissance. Us investigators do it all the time.”

“You have no clue what you’re doing, do you?”

“Not even a little. I’m making it up as I go along.”

“If she tells you Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome is around the corner, just remember, he’s for me. This was my appointment.”

“I’ll get his number for you, baby.”

“You’d better.” Memphis gave me a cheek kiss and got out of the vehicle. Somberly, he walked to his car, got in, and drove off.

For half a beat, I contemplated calling Diem back to apologize for my brisk goodbye, but I was already late, and it was like milking a rooster to get enough words out of him fast enough for him to make sense.

I got out of the car and aimed for Rowena’s.

The flashing sign on the front lawn welcomed me first. Heavy curtains covered the bay window, pulled tight, hiding evidence of the psychic’s sinister life beyond.

I knocked on the front door and got into character. I was Memphis, not Tallus. It was his appointment, not mine.

A few minutes later, the ageless woman I’d seen through the rear window the previous week appeared in stunning retro psychic regalia. Was that a thing? She could have come straight out of the pages of a fantasy book or off the stage of a movie set with her jewelry thickly layered and clinking. A shimmering head scarf—appearing army green in my color spectrum—was wrapped around her thick, wiry gray hair, its silky tassels dangling and swaying around her face with her movements. Hoop earrings and a finely stitched layered skirt that hung to herankles completed the ensemble. A cloak of ominous mysteries surrounded her.

She didn’t greet me. She surveyed me. The penetrating look emanating from her eyes had the quality of a physical touch and raised goose bumps along my arms. Had it begun? Was she delving into my psyche before I’d crossed the threshold?

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