Sixth Sense (A Psychic Crystal Mystery) (13 page)

Katherine held up a hand. “You mean I might be a twin, that this Baby Girl Coulter is somehow related to me?”

“I didn’t say that. What if you
are
Baby Girl Coulter?”

Katherine looked up at Jack. “Are you saying that my parents bought me?”

“I’m not saying anything, but it does raise suspicions. Your parents certainly could have afforded to buy a baby, judging by this house. But this document doesn’t prove anything, and we can’t exactly ask them now. There’s no dollar amount written on here. This isn’t a bill of sale, but it’s worth looking into.”

Kate hesitated. “How would you do that?”

“First, by conducting some research on the Internet. Making a few calls, possibly taking a trip to this place, Casa Spirito. Are you up for that?” Jack considered the prospect of another trip with Kate with promise. He missed her, and the thought of spending all that time alone with her on a car trip was tantalizing.

“But not in an official capacity.” Katherine shot Jack a warning glare.

“No, I’ve got some time coming. Why don’t we take a little trip to Florida?”

Kate seemed to weigh the idea. “Well, okay. I don’t want anything coming out that would reflect negatively on my parents. And the media—those vultures would love to get their hands on something nefarious about me or my family.”

“Do you have a computer here?” Jack asked, looking around the room.

“Yes, in my bedroom.”

“Your bedroom?” Jack’s voice rose an octave and his eyes twinkled.

“Yes, but don’t get any ideas.”

“Me?” Jack threw his hands up. “Furthest thing from my mind. The only thing I’ll be turning on around here is your computer.”
Unfortunately.

“I could have predicted you’d say that. It’s already on. Follow me.” Katherine led the way.

Jack followed her up a winding staircase worthy of a
Gone with the Wind
movie set. “Sorry. I’ll stop making stupid comments, if you’ll forgive me.”

Katherine took a right turn and ushered Jack into a spacious bedroom on the left that overlooked an Olympic-size swimming pool, a tennis court, and some woods, with a jaw-dropping view of the Atlanta skyline. “You live like a princess.”

“A lonely princess,” Katherine lamented.

“You’re not alone now, are you? I’m here.”

Katherine smiled and pointed to her workspace. “Have a seat, Detective.”

Jack sat down in Kate’s chair and began entering data. His hands flew across the keys. “Hmm,” he said, after about fifteen minutes of surfing the net.

“Tell me what you found?” Katherine’s hand flew to her heart.

“Well, a cursory search brings up several entries about this Juliette Spencer. Says she’s a first-class scam artist.”

“Jack, you’re teasing me. I know you’re just making that up,” Katherine said.

Jack smiled and turned his attention back to the computer. “Apparently she’s a strong psychic and spiritual healer in a small community called Casa Spirito, Florida. She’s known as Psychic Juliette. Her ad says she’s a gifted psychic intuitive and a medium specializing in love, relationships, careers, and other passions.” Jack took Kate’s hand and pulled her around to give her a closer view of the screen. It felt good to have her so near again. He squeezed her hand reassuringly and she squeezed back.

Jack smiled and felt his heart stutter. He turned toward the screen and back to the business at hand. “As far as the old reverend, he’s the founder of a secret spiritualist society in Casa Spirito, a federally tax-exempt church governed by a board of trustees, which he heads.” Jack’s fingers flew across the keys. “It looks like he was booted out of another spiritual community in central Florida. No reason given. He has his finger in a lot of pies down there,” Jack observed. “He’s a certified trance medium and spiritualist healer who claims to be a descendant of one of the world’s most illustrious mediums. He is known throughout the community as a spiritualistic seer who can communicate and channel through spirit guides. Sounds to me like he’s a first-class crook.”

“How can you be so certain? You don’t even know the man.”

Jack frowned. “I know enough to know I don’t like him already. He’s about twice this Juliette woman’s age, and he’s married and was married at the time this child was conceived. He must be a very randy reverend. And I can’t find any official record of any child born in that community on that date. I say we go down there.”

Katherine nodded her approval of his plan. “When can we leave?”

“Let me clear it with the department, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. I’ll drive.”

Katherine placed her hand on Jack’s arm. “Thanks, I really appreciate this.”

“No problem. This is a mystery, and I want to get to the bottom of it.”

Katherine closed the files and they walked downstairs.

“What is your sign?” Katherine asked as they stood in the living room.

“My sign?”

“Yes, what month were you born?”

“What difference does that make?”

“All the difference in the world. I study the position of the sun, the moon, the planetary rising signs, and other astrologic aspects.”

“Are you a palm reader?”

Katherine lifted her hands, palms up toward Jack. “I’ve studied palm reading. Astrology is a hobby of mine. I can consult an astrology chart to determine romantic compatibility, among other things.”

Jack took one of Kate’s hands into his, inched closer, and softly traced imaginary lines on her palms. Kate shivered. “I thought your parents didn’t like you dabbling in the occult.”

Kate tried to pull away, but Jack just took her other hand. “They didn’t know. It was something I hid and experimented with when they weren’t around. Like you probably hid
Playboy
s under your bed. I hid tarot cards.”

“Caught me,” Jack chuckled and pulled Kate’s body in to his.

“For example, I’m a Taurus,” Katherine said, trying to extricate herself from Jack’s hold, unsuccessfully.

“What am I?” Jack asked, lowering his voice to a whisper, his lips dangerously close to hers. He was breathing heavily. “I was born on January twenty-third.” He felt Kate move restlessly against his body.

“Then, you’re an Aquarius, so your Zodiac element is air,” she said softly. “Taurus is the earth sign. Taurus and Aquarius are considered potential soul mates. Aquarius embodies traits that are missing and needed to fulfill Taurus. But the attraction between air and earth can’t last too long, if you ask the stars.”

“I’m asking you, sweet Kate,” Jack whispered against her ear. Kate tried to twist out of his grasp, but he pulled her harder against him.

Kate licked her lips, and if she didn’t stop wriggling, he was going to kiss her until she quieted. She had already invaded his senses and if he wasn’t careful, she was going to creep into his heart. And love was definitely not on his agenda.

“Aquarius has a special charm. He’s mysterious and seductive,” Katherine sighed, snuggling against him. “Aquarius will be instantly attracted to Taurus. But Taurus and Aquarius don’t make the best bed mates.”

She gave him a challenging look, as if she were drilling straight down into his mind.

Well she got that right, Jack thought. The instant attraction part, anyway. She was dead wrong about the bed mates. And damn it to hell, he couldn’t wait to prove it to her.

Chapter Thirteen

Casa Spirito, Florida

Katherine could hear the ocean from her room at the quaint Victorian bed-and-breakfast in the pretty seaside town of Casa Spirito on the Florida coast. After an exhausting seven-hour drive from Atlanta, she’d had a restless night. Once she’d thrown back the white chintz curtains, the sun came streaming in and she could see the ocean, and smell it too. She was mesmerized by the relentless rhythm of the waves in their unceasing roll to the shore, and for the first time in weeks she felt a sense of well-being, of comfort, of peace. She ran a brush through her hair, applied her lipstick, took a last look in the oval mirror in the bathroom, and went downstairs to meet Jack for breakfast.

She hoped Jack wouldn’t continue the litany of psychic jokes and disparaging remarks he had regaled her with on the trip to Florida.

“This place is out in the boondocks,” he’d complained at dusk, when they’d finally arrived in Casa Spirito, past fields of cows and horses, a row of towering pine trees, and oaks trimmed in Spanish moss. Each of the homes, some brick, some ramshackle wooden ones, flew flags proudly in their front yards beside covered carports.

After a delicious meal of scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits and a fresh-squeezed glass of Florida orange juice, she and Jack took a leisurely stroll through the tiny town.

They walked along a quiet, shady street lined with pine trees, past the grand, two-story stucco Casa Spirito Hotel, a large church with a tall wooden cross, art galleries, walking paths, and parks.

The tempting smells of a bakery and a coffee shop wafted through the air. There were souvenir shops, a bookshop, a gift store, and a row of gaily-painted Victorian houses, with swinging wooden signs advertising the names and businesses of the owners. Psychic-mediums, handwriting experts, spiritualist healers, spiritual counselors. Each house was unique. Most had wind chimes, tinkling in the ocean breeze. One had orange trees full of ripe, fragrant fruit. Many had Chinese ornamentation—a pond, a spiritual garden, benches, private sanctuaries.

For a moment, Katherine pretended she and Jack were really a couple. She breathed in the sweet smell of orange blossoms and felt true contentment. She imagined this was what it would feel like if she belonged to Jack, if they were on their honeymoon—starting a new life—exploring the unknown together.

A well-fed gray cat sauntered over and sidled up to Katherine.

Jack grinned. “A kindred spirit?”

“No, just a friendly feline.”

“At least it’s not a black cat,” Jack observed.

“Jack, you’re seriously misinformed. Black magic is not part of spiritualism.”

Jack threw his hands in the air. “Excuse me if I don’t know the rules of witchcraft.”

Katherine punched Jack’s arm and reached down to stroke the cat.

Jack shook his head. “I feel like I’m in Oz. Maybe this cat was Toto in another life. I know one thing, Dorothy, we’re not in Georgia anymore.” As they continued their walk, they watched a white-haired gentleman in an old-fashioned suit and tie greet a client before ushering her into his house for a reading. “And there’s the wizard.”

Katherine sighed.

The cat trailed behind her and Jack glanced back at it, as though debating whether to try shooing it away, before he gave Katherine a quizzical look. “Hey, Miss Pied Piper, you seem to have picked up a follower.”

“Jack, you’re a nut.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

As they passed another cemetery, two giant black ravens perched on a Celtic cross grave marker took flight.

“I think those big-ass crows are following us,” Jack remarked.

“They’re not crows. They’re ravens.”

“Isn’t that a bad omen or something?”

“The raven is a symbol of magic.”

“Black magic,” Jack joked. “Maybe they’re just fat homing pigeons.”

They stopped at the entrance to the Casa Spirito Bookstore and Welcome Center in the scenic town square, and Jack took her hand. It was a casual gesture for him, but his hand felt warm and right in hers.

Overwhelmed with sensory possibilities as they entered the store, she dropped Jack’s hand and ran around the shop touching the crystals, colored stones, and quartzes—pink, white, purple, and green, in all shapes and sizes. Then she browsed through the chakra charts and the books about healing. There were tarot cards, and T-shirts with the messages such as “Lift Your Spirits” and “Don’t Touch My Spirit” emblazoned across the chest in an array of colors. She wanted one of everything.

“If you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer them,” said a middle-aged sales clerk in a flowered muumuu, her glasses dangling from a gold chain around her neck.

Some style of electronic, mood-lifting music played, hopefully not designed to put someone in a buying trance.

“I feel like I’m on an acid trip,” Jack whispered. “Maybe I’d better check my chakra at the door.”

Katherine elbowed him. “Be quiet. She can hear you.”

“Where are you from?” the woman asked, unruffled.

“You’re a psychic. You should know the answer to that question,” Jack said.

Katherine turned to Jack. “Don’t be an idiot.” Then she looked apologetically at the sales clerk. “My boyfriend thinks he’s being funny.”

Jack grinned. “If she can read my mind, then she knows I’m just kidding. I’m sure she gets that all the time. Actually, we’re here for a reading,” Jack announced. “What’s the procedure?”

Katherine laughed. Jack was going to give himself away with his no-nonsense cop talk about procedures.

The clerk led them up some wooden steps into a separate room, decorated with two comfortable flowered couches and a display of flyers. There were flyers about auras, spirit activities, mini readings, healing services, spiritual teachings, the science of spiritualism, and historic tours. There were announcements about mediumship development, encouraging students to “step into their power,” and lectures on a variety of topics, including the basics of spiritual development and balancing out your energies.

A number of the workshops and seminars looked appealing. She would love to get a chance to learn more about developing some mediumistic skills. Imagine a place where everyone was enlightened. Where she wouldn’t be an object of curiosity. The people who lived in this community were kindred spirits.

Jack picked up a green flyer. “Hey, Kate, I like the sound of this class. “Self-Exploration. Get in touch with your body, emotions, and spirit. Be sure to bring a pillow and a blanket.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I wouldn’t mind getting in touch with
your
body.”

Katherine shook her head. “You’re acting like a horny sixteen-year-old.”

Jack smiled and reached out to grab Kate, but she maneuvered her way toward a club chair next to a wooden table with a white telephone. Next to the chair was a large white-board with names and phone numbers of certified mediums who were available for readings that day, along with racks of business cards. The names were written in cursive in different handwriting styles and in blue, purple, and hot pink magic marker, obviously by the individual mediums.