Sixth Sense (A Psychic Crystal Mystery) (14 page)

The clerk pointed to the names. “We don’t recommend which one you should call,” she explained. “See which name speaks to you. Use your intuition to see if you’re drawn to someone, if you’re in tune with them. Then use the phone on the table by the white-board to call the medium and set up an appointment.”

“How much is this going to cost me?” Jack asked gruffly.

“The readings range from fifty to seventy-five dollars for the standard thirty-five-to-forty-minute session,” reported the clerk. “More if you get a CD. You can go longer.”

“I see you accept credit cards,” Jack noted, reading the sign on the table.

“Yes,” said the clerk, “And all of our mediums are SCSCMA-certified.”

“Did you say Scammers Certified?” Jack repeated, feigning innocence.

Katherine kicked Jack and whispered, “Behave yourself.”

The long-suffering clerk just smiled wearily and walked away as if she were used to non-believers.

“Couldn’t help myself,” said Jack, breaking out in a wide grin.

“These people are serious,” Katherine said. “Please don’t insult them.”

“I hope this Psychic Juliette woman is working today, or we came all this way for nothing.”

“Jack, you are giving off some negative vibes. I wish you would try to be open to the possibilities.”

Jack feigned a wounded look. “I’m an open book.”

Katherine rolled her eyes and looked up at the white-board. There were about ten names listed in various colors of magic marker.

Jack scanned the board and threw up his hands. “Wait. I’m getting a message. One of these names is speaking to me. Bingo, Psychic Juliette. This is our lucky day. All we do is pick up that bat phone over there and make an appointment.” Jack walked over to the wooden table, picked up the receiver and dialed.

Katherine’s heart fluttered. Was she ready to meet Juliette Spencer? The plan had sounded good when she and Jack discussed it on the drive to Florida, but the prospect of finding out she might be adopted and coming face-to-face with a woman who might be her birth mother was unsettling. She leaned into Jack and held her hand over his so she could hear the voice at the other end.

“Is this Psychic Juliette?” Jack asked.

“This is Juliette Spencer.”

“Yes, um, Psychic Juliette, my fiancée and I would like to get a reading as soon as possible this afternoon. Do you have any openings?”

“How did you hear about me?” the voice asked.

“I saw your ad on the Internet. It um, spoke to me. We were in the area and thought we’d stop by. We’re at the Welcome Center.”

“I have some time now, if you’d like to come for a reading. I’m right on the main street, the fourth house on the right, past the post office. How much time do you need?”

“About an hour. We’re on our way.”

“Fiancée?” Katherine asked.

“Just play along. We can’t just barge in there and ask her about a baby she may or may not have given up for adoption thirty years ago. That would freak her out. We’ll see what we can learn, get to know her a little first.”

Katherine’s stomach was doing flip-flops.

Jack squeezed Kate’s hand as they walked toward the house number listed on the board for Psychic Juliette.

Kate frowned and looked down at their joined hands.

Jack followed her glance. “Look, we need to practice. We’re supposed to be engaged. Make it look real. Play along, like we’re in
love
.”

Katherine pursed her lips. “You don’t even believe in love.”

“Don’t have to,” Jack said. “We’re undercover. This is just another assignment.”

“Right,” Katherine said, thinking how good it felt to have Jack’s hand in hers. But it was all a pretense on his part. Katherine bit her bottom lip.

“Don’t be nervous,” Jack said. “I’ll do the talking. Just follow my lead and improvise.”

A moment later, Jack’s bravado seemed to have evaporated.

“What exactly do you think will happen in this so-called reading?” Jack asked.

Katherine shook her head. So much for Jack taking the lead. “Well, I picked up this sheet at the Welcome Center that gives suggestions for a good reading.” She reviewed the flyer as they walked toward Psychic Juliette’s house.

“First,” Katherine began, “it says you have to put your mind at ease and relax. It creates a better atmosphere for the reading. Then let the medium proceed at her own pace and in her own way. Don’t expect her to discuss your most pressing problems at once. Let the medium know when she is correct. Don’t try to confuse her. And this one is tailor-made for you, Beauregard. ‘Don’t argue with the medium.’ ”

Jack threw up his hands, letting Katherine’s hand drop. “Me, argue? What other sage advice does that flyer offer?”

“It says some things may make more sense by the end of the reading and that you may not understand the message until after you’ve had a chance to think about it,” Katherine read.

“That sounds vague, like fortune-telling.”

“Mediumship is not fortune-telling,” Katherine corrected. “She’s going to provide guidance. She may or may not make a prediction, but even if she does, you have the power to change future events.”

Jack looked doubtful. “How exactly do you think this thing will work? Do we just start asking her questions?”

Katherine glanced down at the sheet and read as she walked beside Jack. “It says here if you want to ask a question, meditate on it in advance of the meeting. Give the spirit ample time to give an answer. Spirits don’t claim to have answers on the spur of the moment.”

“Do you know how silly that sounds?”

“Maybe to you, Jack. That’s how it works for me. I can’t just predict things at will either. A vision has to come to me. When the forces aren’t there, they’re not there.”

“The forces?” Jack scoffed. “You mean like in Star Wars?”

“Spirits are mysterious,” Katherine stated, refusing to take the bait. “These mediums are supposed to be able to communicate with angels, spirit guides, and the collective consciousness.”

Jack snorted. “Just so you know, I think this whole idea is wacko and that this Juliette person is a fake. I hope you’re not going to believe anything she tells us.”

“I appreciate your offering to drive down here with me,” said Katherine. “I know you don’t think anything positive is going to come of this, but I want you to at least keep an open mind.”

They walked a few blocks—past a health food store, an ice cream shop, an Indian restaurant, the Casa Spirito, Florida, U.S. Post Office, and another row of brightly painted wooden houses with cars parked along the road and American flags at the entrances.

“Patriotic bunch,” Jack noted, as they stopped by an old-fashioned lamp post and the sign and house number they were looking for. “The corner of Psychic Street and Aura Avenue?” Jack read the street sign and snorted. “Really?”

“Stop it, Jack. I’m warning you,” Katherine groused. “I’ve had it up to here with your lame psychic humor. It’s not very funny.”

Jack apologized. “Sorry. I’ll try to behave.” His barely smothered smile communicated that he had no intention of behaving.

Katherine looked up at the two-story Victorian—the largest and nicest house on the block. She smelled fresh paint—cheery yellow and powder blue—and the scent of the roses climbing up the white lattice work on the front and sides of the house.

She noticed the neat boxes of violets, a patch of sunflowers, and the antique woven rockers on the wide, inviting front porch that virtually shouted, “Relax and stay awhile.” Attached to the house was a gift shop called “KARMA,” sporting a green and white sign emblazoned with yellow moon and star designs. The church bells chimed the start of a new hour. Water flowed from a fountain decorated with a bronze statue of a fairy with a wand, in a tiny meditation garden at the side of the house. The scene was something out of a storybook, and it looked somehow familiar.

Jack looked at the house and then at Katherine. “This looks like a gingerbread house, and I feel like we’re Hansel and Gretel about to have a close encounter with the wicked witch.”

Katherine rolled her eyes, but she was too nervous to spar with him.

“Looks like we’re at the right place,” said Jack, stopping to read the sign at the entrance. “
Psychic Juliette’s, Certified Medium, Spiritual Counselor and Healer
.
Readings. Unique Gifts.
Walk-Ins Welcome.
Her rates are pretty steep. I signed us up for a one-hour session. She’s probably some kind of a quack—an expensive quack.”

“Jack, not all psychics are quacks. At least give her a chance.”

Jack shook his head. “Well, what could it hurt? We’re only out a hundred bucks. Money means nothing to you.”

Katherine scowled. “That’s unfair. If we find a lead about my birth, then it’s worth all the money in the world to me.”

At the entrance to the shop, which displayed some large and beautiful pink, green, and blue quartz stones in the window, Katherine stopped and grabbed Jack’s hand.

“What is it?” Jack asked. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know. I feel some kind of strong pull.”

“A bad vibe?” Jack wondered, patting the .40-caliber Glock 27 in its leather Galco Miami Classic holster tucked away under his jacket.

“No, actually, it’s not menacing. I have a feeling that things are going to change for me, maybe forever,” Katherine whispered, biting her bottom lip.

“Well, we’ll never know if we don’t go in.” Jack opened the front door, and they entered a tiny reception area, which opened onto a gift store.

Katherine and Jack walked around the shop. She noticed shelves of beautiful stones and small black-and-white labels advertising that they were from China. Farther into the store, Katherine saw a very finely crafted collection of silver and gold handmade jewelry—featuring colorful stones set in rings, bracelets, and necklaces—enclosed in a glass case near the register.

Jack picked up a large white crystal with a pointed edge. “Very New Age,” he pronounced, wielding the crystal like a sword.

Katherine peeked behind a deep blue velvet curtain into a small anteroom with a plush loveseat and some matching chairs. She motioned Jack over.

She and Jack were about to walk into the room, when they heard a noise behind them.

“I’m out here in the shop,” said a very attractive woman who came out to greet them. Jack had a feeling he’d seen her somewhere before. “You must be…”

When she saw Katherine, she hesitated, staring at her visitor open-mouthed.

Katherine was used to stares. By now she was a household name on TV. It wasn’t unusual for strangers to stop her on the street and point, saying, “You’re Crystal Ball Kate. You’re that psychic on TV.” She’d smile, wouldn’t deny it, but never acknowledged it. She was still uncomfortable in the spotlight.

Jack stepped toward the woman. “I’m Jack Hale, and this is my fiancée Katherine Crystal.” Jack hugged her to his side possessively. “Are you Psychic Juliette?”

“I’m Juliette Spencer. Just call me Juliette. Come in, please,” she said, directing them to the room behind the curtain. She addressed a girl behind the counter. “Jasmine, would you please take over in the shop while I’m in session?” Jasmine nodded. As they followed Juliette, the psychic’s shoe caught on the oval sisal rug, but she kept her balance and pointed to two identical chairs. “Have a seat, please.”

Evidently the psychic was as nervous as they were. Katherine and Jack sat down across from Juliette. “You have a lovely shop,” Katherine said sincerely, offering a bright smile. “Some beautiful things. Do you also live here?”

“Yes, I live upstairs above the shop.”

Katherine clasped her hands in her lap. “We’re new at this. We’re not sure exactly what to do or say. Do you ask us questions? Do we ask you questions? What kind of things can we find out?”

“Well, I do séance circles by appointment, communications with deceased loved ones on the ‘other side,’ private psychic readings, numerology, psychometry, energy and spiritual healing, and regressions.”

“Regressions?” Katherine asked.

“Yes, death is just a transition. We don’t typically condone hypnotism. But I can take you back through your past lives and do a Past Lives Reading.”

“Past lives?” Jack asked skeptically. “You mean like reincarnation?”

“Yes, and karma. I can help you find those vital spiritual connections that explain many things in your current life. Perhaps you’ve been together in a past life.”

Katherine’s eyes widened.

Jack shook his head. “Seriously? You actually believe in that stuff?”

“Oh, yes,” said Juliette, studying the couple intensely. “And in your case, most definitely. This is not your first time around.”

****

As Kate babbled on nervously, Jack took the opportunity to study the medium. It hit him like a punch in the gut. Something strange was going on. Or he was seeing double. Psychic Juliette was the mirror image of Kate, just an older version. They could be sisters. The medium was a knockout, sensual, with fiery amethyst eyes and velvet black hair, falling in loose ringlets, like Kate’s. She had a very compelling face, like Kate’s.

Psychic Juliette looked at Jack. “First, do you have any questions?”

“Are you a medium or a psychic?” Jack asked.

Juliette smiled warmly. “I get that question a lot. Everyone is psychic in some way; everyone has a sixth sense of sorts, thought waves alerting them to what the universal spirit is trying to tell them. Mediums have a natural energy and ability to capture those thoughts from a higher power—a merging of the mind and the spiritual world around us.”

Jack massaged his chin. She was spouting the same nonsense as Kate did.

“You look as if you are expecting a razzle-dazzle act,” said Juliette. “I want this to be a positive experience for you.”

Jack frowned. “Just what is supposed to happen in a reading?”

“Think of me as your spiritual counselor. I facilitate communications between you and people who have made the transition to the next world. It may not even be with someone you’ve known. I can’t promise you contact with a specific spirit. My abilities enable me to be receptive to messages from a higher power so I can process and deliver those messages to you. I’m a mental medium. I also work as a healing medium. If in the first ten minutes you feel there is no connection, then you will walk away and no money will change hands.”