Page 18 of Sapphire Nights
Chapter 7
After the lunch rush,Dinah counted the cash drawer, peeled off several bills, and handed them to Sam. “You’re a powerful draw, hon. Reckon you earned your wages today. Go have some fun, smell someflowers.”
Sam had been questioned by every local who’d stopped bythe counter. She felt as if she’dearned her wagesjust fending off questions about her past. She’d finessed the queries about the skeleton so she said nearly nothing and drew the conversation back to the person asking. That performance alone was worthy of actor’spay.
Relieved that she had a little more cash to get by on until her brain started working again, Sam shoved the bills intoher pocket. “I need to plant Tullah’s flower pot. Do you mind if I dig out some of those alyssum volunteers you have inyours?”
“No idea what an alyssum is. Mariah planted that thing. Take what you like. Go over and see Amber, get your cards read, see if she’ll give you some of her pretty flowers.” She nodded at the planter across the street spilling over with lobelia, geraniums, salvia,andmarigolds.
Sam would rather not have her cards read, but if that was what she needed to do to dig around in that planter, she’d bite the bullet. She was itching to pinch back the geraniums and salvia and thin out the marigolds. The purple lobelia were too gorgeous totouch.
In last night’s computer session she’d learned she couldn’t do much of anything about her lack of driver’slicense without her birth certificate or other government identification. She didn’t even know what state she’d been born in. So if she wanted to use the computer again, she’d either have to borrow a bike or risk driving without alicense.
Early afternoon and the sun was shining brilliantly as she crossed the street. Tourists poked around in the shops, but there was no line waiting beneaththe squat wooden building with a Tarot Reader sign. A bell rang overhead as she entered. The shop was lined with candles, boxes of aroma therapy bottles, herbs, crystals, and other accouterments of the trade. Sam didn’t know what her previous persona had thought about woo-woo tricks, but she suspected a person with a scientific background wouldn’t approve. Having no memory certainly opened upone’smind.
She stopped to admire an abstract oil painting in bold blacks and reds. Delicate line drawings of human figures disappeared into the inferno of color. Dante’s vision ofhell?
“I’ll be right out,” a feminine voice sing-songed from theback.
“It’s just me—Sam. Dinah told me I should stop by and take you up on that tarot reading. If you’re busy, I can come anothertime.”
“I’m just dusting. Come on back! This time of day is alwaysslow.”
Amber was a striking woman in her early thirties. She wore her dark auburn hair covered in a turban that left ringlets hanging around her ears. Sam suspected she wore the off-shoulder, ribbon-bedecked white gypsy blouse and colorful skirts because her round figure looked good in them, not just because of herprofession. Maybe one led to theother.
“I’ll fix us some tea. Dinah probably half-worked you to death. You need to be off your feet a while. Have you ever had your tarot read?” Amber bustled about, pulling tea leaves from a cabinet, filling an electric kettle, cleaning old leaves out of a colorful teapot.
“No, can’t say that I remember it,” Sam said. She thought it might be badkarma tolie.
“Well, it’s not an exact science. It’s all about interpretation. The really good readers like me have a psychic connection with the cards and the client. But a lot of it also relies on you and what questions you have in your mind when we cut the cards. So think about what you’d like toknow.”
“What I’d like to know?” Sam drifted over to a counter where boxes of beautifullyillustrated cards were displayed. The list of what she’d like to know wasendless.
“Most people ask about their love lives or their financial situation. The cards are specific to the person. We can’t predict world peace or anything universal. Some of the cards will produce a general prediction of the future, if you’d like that.” She poured the boiling water over theleaves.
“Couldwe ask about Cassandra?” Sam didn’t want anyone looking into her personal business. She was terrified of what they’d see. Not that she expected anything from pieces of painted cardboard, but the idea made hertwitchy.
“We could, in relation to you, perhaps. That works better. Want to choose adeck?”
“They’re all so beautiful. The artwork is exquisite.” Sam admired the various decksAmber had scattered over a tablecloth. “This set is grim though.” She pointed to one with haunted houses and eerie moons and witches on broomsticks. The style seemed similar to the artwork in the frontroom.
“That one was designed by one of the original Lucent Ladies. There are only a few decks still in existence. I’m not sure if she was mocking Halloween or if her mind was just bent thatway.” Amber set teacups and saucers on the table, then spread the deck expertly. “Her skeleton drawing is almost lifelike. I’ve always wondered if she had a model to workfrom.”
Sam shuddered, remembering the skull she’d seen uncovered yesterday. “Let’s not use that deck. How about this floral one? I’ve come to ask you if I can work in your planter and thin out a few marigolds for Tullah’splanter, so that seemsapt.”
Amber picked up the deck, flipped through it, and studied Sam. “Yes, your vibrations are in synch with the earth cards, interesting. Do you work inagriculture?”
“Environmental science,” Sam said, almost proudly, because this was the only thing she knew about herself.Maybe.
“Interesting that you chose this deck. It’s another one handed down fromthe Lucent Ladies and is more interpretative than the usual Italian spread. Sit yourself right there.” Amber pointed at one of the straight chairs adorned with white slipcovers. She poured the tea without offering cream orlemon.
Why did Sam remember what went into coffee and tea and not what went into her own damnedhead?
“We’ll just start with a simple spread today. How would youlike me to phrase your question? Where is Cassandra? Is Cass all right?” Amber settled into a similar chair on the other side of thetable.
“When will she come home? Can I askthat?”
“We can’t get dates, just what happened in the past that’s influencing the moment and what will come of it, but we can focus on that question. Cut the deck into three stacks,please.”
