Page 10 of No Surrender
What the hell was that about? A yesteryear baseball team, and one player in particular. How does that have anything to do with what’s going on?
Simon had learned that his psychic gift didn’t always communicate in a predictable, linear way. Supernatural ways of knowing—visions, tarot cards, tea leaves, or any of the other many psychic abilities—didn’t unfold like a book or a movie. Instead, they tended to offer a “highlights reel” of only the most essential, highly emotional moments, leaving the recipient to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
Normally, he loved the challenge. But the Slitter trial had Simon on edge, fearing that he or Vic—or their friends—could end up in danger. Catching the Slitter had nearly gotten Simon killed, and he was in no hurry to revisit that scenario. Simon worried that he lacked the patience to track clues and figure out what his gift was trying to tell him, even though he knew his paranormal insights might unlock evidence that could change everything.
Once he could move without triggering the pain in his temples, Simon sat at his desk and searched for information about the long-ago baseball team. He quickly turned up results about the Sarasota Swordfish, which had been a big deal starting in the 1950s but faded from view after they were bought, renamed, and relocated by a new owner in the 1970s.
“Javier Narvaez,” Simon murmured when he found a photo of the same man he’d glimpsed in his vision, one of the Swordfish’s star players in the mid-1960s.
“Narvaez’s number 12 was officially retired as a tribute after a tragic car wreck shattered his right arm and forced his retirement from baseball,” Simon read aloud from a post that showed up in his search results. “Why the hell would that matter?”
He realized that he had lost track of time when Pete stuck his head in.
“Feeling better? Ms. McKenzie will be here in about five minutes. Mitch went after the reporters like a bear with a bee sting and cleared them out—for now.” Pete’s tone made it clear how much he had enjoyed watching that spectacle unfold through the shop’s big front window.
“Shit. Okay. I’ve mostly got myself together. Thanks for the warning.”
Simon headed for the bathroom, where he splashed cold water on his face, finger-combed his hair into a semblance of neatness, and took some deep breaths to get himself under control.
When he emerged, he found a nervous older woman near the register, chatting with Pete while they waited for Simon. She looked to be in her late sixties, a slightly-built woman with a vibrant presence.
“Ms. McKenzie?” he asked, with a smile he hoped reached his eyes.
“Are you Simon Kincaide?” She looked wary, like she might bolt.
“Yes, I am. Thank you for coming. Would you like tea? Water? Coffee?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m a bit too nervous for any of that. How does this work?”
“We have a seat at a quiet table in the back, and you give me some information about the spirit you’d like to contact, and then I do my best to pass messages back and forth,” Simon replied.
“Can I see the ghost?”
Simon had been asked this question many times. He wished he could give a better answer. “I don’t know. Sometimes it’s possible if the ghost is strong enough. Most often, no. It depends on a lot of things.”
“Alright,” Ms. McKenzie said, after a moment’s hesitation, as if she were having an internal debate. “Let’s give it a whirl.”
“Please, come with me.” Simon gestured toward the back of the shop where he had a table set up for private consults, separated from the rest of the store by a curtain and a folding screen.
Simon waited until his client got comfortable at the table. He sensed her nervousness and felt the psychic prickle that told him a spirit hovered just out of sight. “How can I help, Ms. McKenzie?”
Ms. McKenzie folded her hands in front of her. “Please call me Lois. I’ve come about my sister. She went missing, and I’ve never been able to find out what happened. She’s been on my mind a lot lately like she’s here with me, and I thought I’d see if this really works.”
Skepticism was normal—sometimes even hostility. People feared the unknown, particularly when it came to death and the afterlife. He knew that the many stories of frauds and con artists also made clients wary even after booking an appointment.
“When did she go missing?”
“In the summer of 1982.”
Simon’s breath caught.That can’t be a coincidence, not with that list Walt gave to Vic.
“Have you ever tried to contact her spirit before?”
Lois shook her head. “No. It always seemed too final, like I was giving up on finding her. But after all this time, I know that she’s gone, no matter why she disappeared. Even if she ran off. There was a four-year gap between us—she was my big sister. I’d just like to know for certain before my time is up.”
“What’s her name?”
“Alicia McKenzie.” The older woman nodded. “Same last name. I never married.”
