Perfectly Matched (2 page)

“Ah,” Orlinda said, finally pulling a small bundle from her pack. She made a grand show of setting the package on the table, keeping her hands wrapped tightly around the plastic bag. Orlinda had a flair for drama.

Preston
asked the question o
n all our minds. “What’s that?”

“Another path,” Orlinda said. She slowly slid the parcel toward me.

I gingerly reached for it. Plastic crinkled as I untwisted the bag’s handles. Nervously, I looked within, where there was another bag—this one a clear plastic type with a zippered top. I pulled it free and my heart clenched tightly at what was revealed.

A forlorn pink teddy bear. It looked well-loved, with its matted fur and threadbare paw. Maybe eight inches high, it was short and squat, with an adorable nose, two black eyes, and a thin smile that probably once looked cheerful but now appeared so terribly sad.

“Does that belong to the missing girl?” Graham asked. He looked like he wanted to snatch the bear away from me.

“It does, yes,” Orlinda said.

Dr. Paul leaned forward, his bald head glistening. He was obviously eager to get his hands on the teddy as well.

Boobalicious Annie, however, appeared more interested in flirting with Graham than anything. I was pretty sure they were playing footsies under the table.

“Psychometry,” Orlinda boomed. “It is the ability to communicate with a person by holding an object that belongs to them.”

Next to me, I felt
Preston
perk up. She had once goaded me into trying psychometry, but believing that it was impossible, I hadn’t put forth much effort. Maybe I
could
get readings from objects. Why not? I could get readings from people
about
lost objects. It wasn’t that much of a stretch.

“I want you to remove the bear from the bag, Lucy,” Orlinda advised, “and hold it between both your hands.”

I slowly slid open the zipper of the plastic baggie and reluctantly reached inside. My stomach was in knots. Part of me didn’t want to touch this piece of the little girl’s life. Another part was terrified that I would fail yet again. But the biggest part couldn’t help feeling hopeful. Maybe with the right guidance, I could uncover hidden abilities.

Letting out a breath, I pulled the bear free of the plastic. I settled it between my hands.

Orlinda’s voice dropped two notches. “Let the energy flow from your palms. One to the other. Visualize the little girl. See her playing with this bear.”

The only sound in the room was that of the fans, their blades whirring. My heart beat so loudly, I was surprised the others couldn’t hear it. I stared into the eyes of the bear.

Please let me see her
.

I often carried around guilt for all the people I couldn’t help. All the children I couldn’t find. But if I had a new ability...I could help so many more.

Please
.

“Close your eyes,” Orlinda said.

I let them flutter shut. I tried my best to drown out the doubts screaming in my head along with the endless c
hatter of my internal thoughts.

Think
.
Focus
.
Breathe
.

The fans whirred. I rested my chin atop the bear’s head and took even, deep breaths. My palms tingled, and behind my closed lids, I found myself looking through a strange set of eyes. I glanced around, taking in the new sights, absorbing details.

Suddenly, I felt a poke on my arm.

“Do you see something?” Graham asked.

Just like that, the little girl was gone.

My eyes popped open. I felt woozy—I always felt dizzy after a vision.

Orlinda groaned. “Psychic rule number one, Graham. Never interrupt a reading.”

“You never gave us any rules,” Annie said, flipping through her notes as if she’d forgotten a lesson.

Orlinda rolled her eyes.

“Well?” Dr. Paul asked. “Did you see something, Lucy?”

Preston
had her pen at the ready.

I focused on Orlinda. “I saw...”

Orlinda beamed. “What did you see?”

“I saw a school bus. And I saw a man. The man with the dark beard.”

“What else?” Orlinda asked.

There hadn’t been much else—not that I could immediately decipher anyway. I shook my head. “It happened too fast. I’m not sure.” Hopefully I could go back to the vision later, when all was quiet again, and study the details.

“You will, Lucy,” Orlinda said. “It just takes practice.”

Annie gave me the stink eye. “We already knew a man with a beard took her after school. How do we know you had a real vision and didn’t just copy what you learned from us?”

“Yeah,” Dr. Paul said, crossing his arms over his narrow chest.

I was beginning to dislike the whole lot of them.

Preston
scribbled away. I could only imagine how she’d spin th
is conversation in her article.

“I—” I glanced at Orlinda. “Is that even possible, to have a vision of what they saw as my own?”

Even as I asked, I knew that wasn’t what had happened to me. I’d seen the scene. I had the wooziness. I hadn’t made that up. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d been looking at it through the eyes of the little girl.

“Possible, yes, as a type of psychic transference,” Orlinda said, “But doubtful. It isn’t unusual for multiple psychics to have similar readings. You’re picking up on facts, on feelings. Those are unchangeable.”

“Could it have been telepathy?” Dr. Paul asked. “Maybe one of the three of us unconsciously sent Lucy the images?”

“Again, possible,” Orlinda said, “but doubtful.”

“Well, I’m doubtful,” Graham said loudly, pushing his chair back. He shoved his pad of paper into a messenger bag and draped it over his shoulder.

“Big surprise,”
Preston
said drily.

He threw her a withering look and said to Orlinda, “I need to get going.”

“Me, too,” Annie said, standing. I could have sworn I heard a suction sound as her breasts lifted from the table.

“I, as well,” Dr. Paul piped in. “I have patients to see.” He glanced at
Preston
. “Are you ready?”

She reached for her tape recorder and shut it off. “Hold your horses.”

I held in a smile.
Preston
was shadowing Dr. Paul today, Graham tomorrow, and Annie on Friday for her
Mad Blotter
article. I didn’t know who to feel most sorry for—them or her. She was an acquired taste, but they were meanies.

“Well, go,” Orlinda said, dismissing them all with a wave of a hand.

Graham said, “Are we still on for Sunday?”

“Noon, at my office,” Orlinda said. “Do not be late.”

Other than
Preston
, none of them said goodbye to me as they trooped from the room.

“I need to be on my way as well,” Orlinda said, packing her knapsack. “I have to catch the water taxi to
Logan
.”

I continued to hold the bear. The electricity in my palms had vanished. I felt nothing.

Nothing at all.

I handed the teddy back to her.

“No, no,” she said. “Keep it. Practice. You’re on the cusp, Lucy. More than anything, you need to trust and believe in yourself.”

I tucked the bear back into its pouch but didn’t say anything. My emotions were all over the map
. Up, down, around. Inside out.

I’d been looking through the girl’s eyes. Even now, I was starting to pick out more of what I’d seen in my vision. But I was also worried that I wouldn’t be able to recapture the process—and that I didn’t have enough informa
tion to find where she was now.

Orlinda spun her wheelchair around and rolled toward the door. “Noon. Sunday.”

I followed her to the door. “I’ll be there.”

“Do not let the others get to you,” she warned over her shoulder.

“I won’t,” I assured her. “If they get out of hand, I’ll just sic
Preston
on them.”

Amused, Orlinda nodded. “Good plan. You don’t have to see me out, Lucy.”

“Okay, but let me know if you have trouble with the elevator.” It was the only elevator in the building and could be a little tricky.

“I will.”

She was halfway down the short hallway leading to the reception area when I called out to her.

She stopped and swiveled her chair so she could see me.

“Her name is
Bethany
,” I said, my voice cracking. “It was on her backpack.”

The corners of Orlinda’s eyes crinkled as she gave me a knowing smile. “Very good, Lucy Valentine. Very good.”

Chapter Two

I had just turned to go back into my office, when I heard a happy squeal from the reception area.

My curiosity piqued, I headed down the hallway to see what the commotion was all about.

In the reception area, Valentine
,
Inc.’s go-to gal, Suz Ruggieri, sat behind her desk, her eyebrows raised so high they nearly disappeared into her dark chestnut hairline. She knew all my family’s secrets, including the biggies like the fact that my father used his psychic ability to find his clients true love, that I used my psychic gift to reunite lost loves and help solve missing person cases for the Massachusetts State Police, and that I had an illegitimate brother the public didn’t yet know about.

She gave a quizzical shrug about the scene playing out before us.

A man was bent over Orlinda’s wheelchair, and she appeared to be squeezing the life out of him.

But on closer look, it was just a hug.

“Can’t breathe,” the man gasped.

Orlinda laughed, a loud barking sound. “Oh you,” she said, playfully pushing him away.

When he stood, I tried not to be taken aback. He was six feet of striking man. Long, lean, and muscled in all the right places. Brown hair, grass green eyes. He wore nicely-fitting dark jeans and a black T-shirt. There was a dangerous edge about him that had me easily picturing him as special ops...or career criminal. His presence screamed “bad boy.” Especially with the deep scar that ran along his jawline.

I noticed he had a black gym bag on the love seat and wondered what was in it. Machine guns? Grenades?

“Lucy,” Orlinda said, whirling around, “have you met Jeremy Cross?”

The name triggered recognition. I’d never met the man, but he was my newest Lost Loves client. “Not yet,” I said, inwardly cringing as I reached out to shake his hand.

“Lucy and Suz, this is Jeremy,” Orlinda said.

His rough, calloused hand grasped mine in a firm quick shake. I saw nothing, and let out the breath I was holding.

Suz gave him a finger wave. I noticed a newspaper was spread open on her desk. She’d been reading about the biggest story around—the serial arsonist who was on a fiery spree. Really,
everyone
in the city had been reading the story. Three weeks, four fires—all set after midnight. The last one had almost claimed the life of an elderly man. So far, there had been no link found between the cases, and the randomness had put everyone on edge.

“We’ve met,” he said, smiling at Suz. “Informally.”

Suz, a happily married woman, giggled like a school girl.

His smile. His voice. Either one could make a girl’s knees weak. And
had
, obviously, with Suz, since she remained seated. What was it about women loving bad boys?

I, thankfully, was somewhat immune. I had Sean.

“Jeremy, I’m surprised to run into you here,” Orlinda said.

He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Are you really?”

Ah. So he knew about Orlinda’s psychic abilities. I gave him another once-over (someone had to do it). Was it possible he was psychic as well? There was no way for me to know unless someone enlightened me.

“Lucy, Jerem
y is a former student of mine.”

Someone like Orlinda. I had no doubt she had tapped into my thoughts. Better mine than Suz’s—I could only imagine with the goo-goo look in her eyes what she was thinking.

Jeremy sat down on the couch, so he was at eye level with Orlinda—a nice gesture, I thought. She once mentioned how she hated craning her neck to look up at people.

“A student like me?” I walked over and sat in the chair opposite Jeremy. Eyeing his bag, I was dying to know what was in it and hoped it was something more interesting than gym clothes.

The reception area wasn’t nearly as hot as the back offices. Suz had window fans in place to help stir the stale air. Sidewalk noises drifted up. People talking, horns honking. Traffic along
Charles Street
.

From up here on the second floor, I had a clear view of the
Public
Garden
and some of Boston Common. The heat wave had brought out tourists in droves.