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Authors: Kathy LaMee

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BOOK: Tansy Taylor
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“Sorry Becca, I gotta go, or I’m going to leave a puddle right here! Call me and we can hook up sometime this weekend!” I shimmied toward the restroom.

“Gotcha babe! Don’t do nothin’ I wouldn’t do!” Becca winked at me and then her cornrowed head disappeared back below her cubicle wall and I ran into the ladies’.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

I lucked out and got a parking spot only a couple of blocks away from Vault Martini. I’d discovered this jewel in the cultural district a few weeks ago and couldn’t get enough. After all, how often do you come across a tasty drink called the Pussy Wagon? I still blush just a tad when ordering. I walked in and searched the sea of faces for a single sad girl. Callie had said she was wearing a black hoodie and jeans and that I’d recognize her as the girl with the stringy blond hair and sunken eyes. I didn’t have to look far to find her, and she was right, she looked awful. A crack of a smile appeared on her face as she caught my eye.

“You must be Callie,” I said sitting down in a comfortable chair.

“I am; it’s really nice to meet you Tansy. I hope you don’t mind being this close to the fire. Ever since Buster disappeared, well, I just can’t seem to get warm.” She rubbed her arms.

She was indeed wrapped in a shroud of biting cold. Poor thing; I smiled. “No problem, it can be really hard to get warm after experiencing a loss.” I shrugged out of my jacket and immediately was thankful for my short sleeves. Callie had her hands shrunk up into her sleeves and it looked like she had at least a couple of layers underneath her sweatshirt. She was a long and slender girl, and my guess was that the shock of the last three days had also caused her to drop some needed weight.

I caught the waitress and we ordered ourselves drinks, my long awaited Pussy Wagon and keeping with her conservative nature, a Manhattan for Callie.

“Callie, that’s an unusual name. Is it short for something?” I asked, settling back into my chair.

“Calliope,” she said making a face of disgust. “It’s not really me. My mom never really left the sixties.”

I nodded. My mother was cut from a similar fabric, and she was the tamest one of her family. “So your boyfriend’s name is Buster. You two were together for a while?”

“Yeah, three years.” She ran her hand over her ring finger.

“You were expecting to get engaged soon?”

“I was! How do you know that? Is that your psychic ability?” Her wide eyed expression relayed her naivete. I cracked a small smile.

“Nah, I saw you rub your hand over where a ring would go and took a guess.”

Callie’s face turned a bit red. “Oh, I see.”

“Callie, don’t be upset. I’m not trying to poke fun.”

“Oh, I know. I can tell you’re a really nice person. I just know I’m not the brightest bulb, you know?” She twirled a piece of hair and looked out from beneath her long eyelashes. I was sure she’d draw a lot of male attention when she was in good spirits and didn’t have deep circles from multiple sleepless nights haunting her eyes.

“I don’t know about that! You seem to be pretty smart to me.” I squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her. Our drinks arrived and she gave mine a wary look. It made my mouth water just thinking about the spicy bite of habanera vodka mixed with cranberry and lime.

“I’ve never had a martini before. I ordered the Manhattan because it looked pretty normal. I like normal.” She took a tiny sip and I smiled.

I took a sip of my own martini and let the nastiness of the day wash away. “So, why do you think someone murdered Buster?”

Callie’s eyebrows furrowed. “I have no idea, that’s the weird thing. He just up and disappeared the other day. He just never came home and his car was still down at Big’s.”

“Buster worked for Big’s Bonanza of Cars?” Big’s was a local used car dealership, widely known for the obnoxious commercials.

“Yup. Buster’s job was to clean the cars out and get them ready for sale. He had to detail them and keep them all nice and clean out on the lot. It wasn’t a fabulous job, but he was saving up for auto mechanic school. His dream was to own his own repair shop. Sometimes Big would have him do some of the mechanical stuff too on the cars, but since he wasn’t formally trained or certified, it was mostly under the table.”

“I suppose it kept Big from having to pay any overtime as well.” I thought out loud. Callie nodded in agreement.

“So, Buster is missing, not necessarily dead.” I chewed on this a bit, and drank some more of my tasty martini.

Callie shrugged. “I suppose, but I’ve just got this feeling, you know?” I did know, since I too had similar feelings. Callie shivered.

“I knew something was wrong when it got to be after eight and Buster still wasn’t home. I called down to the dealership and nobody answered. I got my friend to drive over with me, and that’s when we found Buster’s truck. The driver door was hanging open, and his lunch box was on the seat. It was like he just vanished getting into his truck.” She frowned and took a sip of martini-she’d barely made a dent. Mine was almost gone. I signaled the waitress and got another one on the way.

“So, you think someone took him? Maybe kidnapped him?”

Callie shrugged. “Maybe; but why would someone kidnap Buster? It’s not like his family has any money. I sure don’t. Plus we haven’t gotten any ransom notes or calls.”

My second martini arrived and I lost myself in thought for a moment.

“Have you called the police?”

“I did. They came out, took our statements and checked around the truck. Basically, since there isn’t a body and ransom hasn’t been called in, they can’t officially call it anything other than a missing person case. They took his truck down to impound, but as far as I know it’s just sitting there, abandoned. I feel like there is nothing I can do. That’s why I called you. I figured maybe if you could find the murderer we could go to the police.” She set her glass gently on the table.

“I wish I could help. But, like I said, I get more of a feeling or a thought about people. I can read auras and can get a feeling for a person. That’s how I work with people who call in. Usually it has to do with relationships or choices that they need to make. I’ve never had to try and figure out if someone is a murderer or not.” I didn’t want to disappoint her, but I really didn’t think there was much I could do, psychically anyway.

“Let’s think about the week or two before he disappeared. Maybe there is clue there that seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary when it happened, but now it might seem a bit unusual.” I racked my brain to think of hints or ideas I could glean from the hundreds of Law and Order or CSI shows that I watch on a daily basis. I am quite the crime show addict.

Callie scrunched up her face again and looked at the ceiling. “Hmm, I can’t think of anything big.” She stopped and caught her breath and looked straight at me. “You know, he was acting more quiet than usual and wasn’t sleeping well. He said it was just work. He’d been working long hours, and at night a couple times, which is unusual. He works overtime sometimes, but not that much.”

“Well, it could be something. Did he say what he was doing?”

Callie shook her head. “No, only that it was some special project or sale something.” Callie took a sip of her drink and made a face. “This is really strong.”

“That’s why I come here.” I smiled and gave her a wink. I took another sip off of mine and savored the peppery sting of the vodka sliding down my throat.

Callie suddenly sat forward. “What if we went around to different people that knew Buster and you could read them? Maybe it would give us an idea if anyone is hiding something. Would that work?” Her face was lit up.

“Well,” I said hesitantly, “it might work. I couldn’t give you more than just a basic naughty or nice though.”

“Well, that would be a start right? I could pay you too, not much, but a bit.” She leaned forward, holding her breath on my answer. I couldn’t say no.

“I’ll help, but there’s no way I’m taking any money from you. I’ll do it as a friend, how does that sound?” I smiled and she took a breath. Just as I thought, paying anything would be a tremendous burden.

“So where do you work?” I asked.

“Oh, I work at a diner, just down the street from Big’s. That’s how I met Buster. He came in for lunch.” She smiled at the memory, and for a moment I felt the air around her warm but then vanish as quickly as the cold rushed back in. “Dixie’s, you know it?”

I shook my head. “Haven’t heard of it, but I love diner food. It sounds like you two were really in love. I bet Buster was a great guy.”

“He was the best.” Callie sighed and finished off the rest of the Manhattan in one drink, shuddering as it hit her throat.

We made plans to meet the next morning at Dixie’s. Callie was working the early shift and would be off at ten. That would give me plenty of time to sleep in a bit and get in a workout before I spent the day reading auras. I found that my best work was done after I’d a nice vigorous workout followed by some meditation.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

I reached the diner a few minutes before ten and decided I would grab some ice tea while I waited. There were pumpkin muffins sitting in a display case that looked way too delicious to leave alone, so I added one to my order.

Dixie’s was a throw-back to the fifties. Done up in sparkly robin’s egg blue and metal rimmed tables, it made me feel like I should be ordering up a milkshake or a vanilla coke from a soda jerk. It fit Callie’s personality perfectly; no wonder she enjoyed her job.

Callie finished up her shift and then joined me at the table with a Coke and a muffin of her own.

“So, how’re you doing today?” I asked. She looked a little better and there was a hint of pink to her cheeks. It may have been synthetically applied, but it made her look alive. I took a bite of muffin and paused. Man, this muffin was good. I licked my lips, trying to get each and every crumb.

“Good muffins, huh?” I nodded. “I think I’m better today, it helps to be somewhere I’m needed.” Callie smiled and took a bit bite of her own, careful not to let any escape. I nodded enthusiastically.

“I think we should head over to Big’s. Most everyone will be there today, including the mechanics and other detailers.” She rolled her tongue around the words, pumpkin muffin bits sticking between her teeth.

“Sounds good, but what’s our premise?” I asked. It would be odd just to show up and ask questions.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Callie looked a bit befuddled.

“Well, I figure we need a cover story. We can’t just go in and start asking questions about Buster’s disappearance. If there is a murderer there, we might be in for some trouble of our own.”

“Oh, good idea!” Callie’s eyebrows wrinkled together. I noticed this was her signature for when she was deep in thought.

“I know, maybe you could be looking for a car,” she said.

“I thought of that, but wouldn’t that limit me to one salesperson? It would be weird to go around to each salesman.” I was tempted to lick the crumbs from my plate. I resisted and stuck my napkin over the plate instead.

“Oh, you’re right, they’re very territorial. Commission pay, you know.” Callie was very matter of fact. We sat there in silence for a few minutes trying to come up with an idea which would get us access to everyone.

“What if I pretended to be Buster’s sister? You know, I could be from out of town, wanting to meet all of his friends and coworkers.” It wasn’t the best idea, but it might be just the ticket to get us in the door and access to information.

“You mean like pretend you want to know everyone he knew? What would that do?” I could see that I’d lost her.

“Well, sometimes people who lose a family member want to be surrounded by everyone who knew the deceased, or in this case the missing. It makes them feel closer to that person I guess.” It was the best I could do.

“Oh, I see. So as his sister, you would feel more connected to his spirit?” A light bulb had gone on.

“You got it. See, your mom wore off on you a bit! This is a very hippie thing to do.” I smiled and gave her a little hug over the table.

“I guess you’re right. Maybe I’m not as boring as I think I am.” For a minute a glimmer of what I would guess the old Callie was like reappeared.

We headed out of the diner and I popped the trunk on my car, an old beat up Nissan I’d had since high school. Rooting around, I came up with a tie died scarf and a pair of Birkenstocks. Luckily I’d dressed in a loose floral tunic and a long white cotton skirt today after my workout. It was one of my favorite outfits on my day off.

“Wow. You scream flower power.” Callie said covering up a chuckle. “Oh, wait! Add this!” She pulled out my hot pink Rastafarian knit hat that Jeni had gotten me as a joke on my last birthday. I pulled it on over the back of my head and hair, leaving a few curls popping out around the fringe.

“I tend to find myself needing a variety of items for different gigs I do. Every now and then I get a side job reading auras or life lines, things like that.” Callie gave me a suspicious look. “Honest, I can do smaller stuff, mostly stuff that anyone can learn to do if they concentrate on developing their abilities. Everyone has the ability to be psychic to some degree.”

“Really? Do you think that you could teach me sometime?”

“Sure. The first thing you need to do is to learn how to ground yourself and to become centered. Once you can get a good handle on being aware of yourself, reading others is not far away.” I smiled, thinking it was nice for once to have someone genuinely interested in what I did.

“Alright,” I said, slamming the trunk. “Let’s go see what we can find out. Shady used car salesmen, here we come.”

 

*****

 

We pulled up to Big’s Used Cars and parked in a spot off to the side; instantly I felt the eyes of the vultures. Three different salesmen came at us from various angles, and we weren’t even out of the car! I jumped out just as the three spotted each other. I looked around for a means of escape, my natural instincts taking over. The lot was situated on the corner block, pimped out cars lined the edge of the sidewalk. There was a glass front building that appeared to be the showroom and offices of the salesmen. I could see a service road leading behind the fancy building that would take me to what I assumed was the shop area.

Callie got out and slid around to my side of the car.

“This one’s mine boys.” A big greasy grin spread across a stubble laden face that drew nearer-the epitome of used car salesman. He was wearing what I could swear was a pair of polyester pants and a white dress shirt. The lime green tie was obnoxiously covered with what appeared to be dead pink angel fish. His black hair was in a slick comb over that Donald Trump would be proud of. Instinctively I took a step back.

“That’s Ronnie. He’s Big’s top seller,” Callie whispered behind me.

“What is that on his tie?” I asked out the side of my mouth. I was fascinated and disgusted all at the same time. He was mesmerizing.

She squinted up over my shoulder. “I have no idea, pink blotches?”

Callie stepped out from behind me and instantly Ronnie’s smile vanished and he stopped mid-step.

“Oh, Callie. It’s you.” I could see he was confused, and by the nature of his aura, he seemed to be very focused on money and on himself. Big surprise there. He was confused, too, most likely over who I was and why Callie was showing up at the dealership when her beau no longer worked there.

“Hello Ronnie. This is.. um…” Callie floundered. Oh crap. We forgot to come up with my name!

“Hi, my name is Sandra, Sandra Dee.” I saw Callie’s eyes bulge out in my peripheral vision and I could feel her stifle a nervous giggle. I stuck my hand out and shook Ronnie’s outstretched hand. I just about shook him out of his alligator boots. That would have been sad, seeing as how they were the crowning glory of his outfit. Up close I realized his tie was not covered with dead pink angelfish but instead hot pink crazy cats in various different poses. It was a little on the odd side, to say the least.

“So, Ronnie. Nice to meet you, wish it was under better circumstances.” Damn, I didn’t even know Buster’s last name. Oh, well, so we weren’t the best prepared at our undercover gig.

Ronnie’s face clouded with confusion and he looked back and forth from me to Callie.

“Sandra is Buster’s half sister. She came out when he went missing,” Callie offered, and Ronnie’s face fell even further.

“Oh, so you aren’t here for a new car?” He looked from me to my ancient Nissan.

“Oh, no. I could never get rid of old Bess here,” I said patting the hood. “I came in today so that I could get a sense of Buster’s coworkers. It will help me have closure, you know, after losing him so young.” I lowered my head, raised my hands to the heavens, completed a circle in the air and brought them together in what would, hopefully, appear to be some sort of hippie prayer. Knowing me though, I probably just looked like a complete moron.

“Oh.” I looked up and saw Ronnie, deer in the headlights. It wasn’t pretty, but I was darn sure I’d snowed him.

“So, you’re Ronnie. A salesman, I presume?” I looked him up and down and tried not to giggle. I glanced at Callie, and her head was bowed down, her hands up over her face. I really hoped she was okay, and not crying. This was going to be hard for her.

“Ya, er, yes ma’am. I’m Ronnie. I’m the lead salesman. I knew Buster pretty well. He did a great job getting all the cars ready for sale stickers. He also seemed pretty handy in the work bay.” He stuck his thumbs through his belt loops and puffed out his shirt. No way had this guy liked Buster, but at least he had the decency to keep it to himself and show some respect to Callie.

I smiled at him and waved my hand in a circle in front of him. “I get a good sense of decency about you Ronnie. I’m sure that Buster left this world knowing exactly how you felt about him.” I didn’t notice a change in Ronnie’s aura, a good sign that he really was trying to have good intentions and while he did tell a fib, it was one that would make us, as Buster’s kin, feel better. Chalk Ronnie up to being of the non-evil variety. He still could be involved, but he wasn’t the mastermind behind whatever had happened. I took Callie by the hand and walked toward the front of the building.

“Are you okay?” I spun her toward me and took a good look once we were out of earshot. Even if someone heard me, they wouldn’t think anything odd about it, after all, I was a grieving sister, and this was Buster’s long time girlfriend.

Callie wiped her eyes. “I’m okay. I don’t know what came over me, but I got a case of the giggles worse than I ever have.”

My shoulders drooped. “Giggles? I thought you were really crying.” I was shocked that she would be laughing at a time like this.

“I know it sounds horrible. I tend to get the giggles when I’m nervous. Believe me, I’m not finding any of this funny, I just can’t help myself.” She still had tears streaming down her face, and I was pretty sure they included real ones. I handed her a tissue from my oversized purse.

“I hope I make it through this.” She looked quite a wreck.

“Listen. We’re good. Ronnie appears to be quite a smart guy, regardless of the way he dresses. If we got him fooled, I think we’ll be okay. Next time we just need to plan a little better.”

Callie game me a weak smile. “Ya, okay… Sandra.”

“Glad I can make you smile. Now, let’s get in there and see what we can find out.” I took her arm and we walked through the doors.

Five salesmen and a secretary later we weren’t having any luck. Although I hadn’t sensed that these folks had the best scruples, none of them had caused me a chill or shown me any kind of evil aura.

“Where to next?” I adjusted my scarf and tugged on my hat. My curly hair made it impossible sometimes to keep from looking completely disheveled.

“I think we should head over to the wash bay, see who’s around that Buster worked with on a daily basis.” Callie pointed across the back lot at a metal building.

“Sounds good.” From the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure disappearing behind the large trash bin. The hair on my neck stood on end and a whoosh of cold air raced over me. Whoa! That’s never happened before. Whoever this dark stranger was, he was definitely putting off some interesting mojo.

“Everything okay?” Callie was looking back at me. I’d stopped midstride.

“Um, I think so. I just had a really strange feeling. I thought I saw something, over there by that dumpster.” I stood, peering at the dumpster, but there was no sign of movement.

“You want to go check it out?” She asked, a bit of nervousness lacing her words.

I nodded. “You stay here; I’m just going to go take a quick peek.” The dumpster was in front of a reflective window on the back side of the showroom. I couldn’t see in, but from what I recalled there was a back office area that looked out on the dumpster. I crept around to the side of the dumpster and peered at the reflection in the window. All I could see was the back of the dumpster. Phew. I let the breath I’d been holding out in one long stream. That was creepy. I could’ve sworn I’d seen someone. I glanced back at Callie who was watching me intently.

“See anything?” she called out.

I shook my head. If she’d been watching me that close there was no way whoever I’d seen could have disappeared around the other side of the dumpster or ran off without Callie noticing. The air prickled my arm hair, again, the coldness creeping over me. I could actually see my breath in front of my face. This had definitely never happened before. I felt like I’d entered a bad horror flick-the scene where I’d be screaming at the stupid girl not to go in
out
over to wherever the dude with the big chainsaw was hiding. But, I couldn’t help myself-I had to look behind the dumpster. What if what I’d seen had no reflection? And why would that be, I asked myself? Not finding a realistic answer, I gripped the side of the dumpster. Eewh, it was sticky! I peeked around the side, and saw the shape of a man. I looked back and forth from the window to the man. He was peering out the other side of the dumpster, looking right at Callie. She didn’t see him. I didn’t see him in the reflection. What in the world or out of this world did this mean?

“Fuck.” I could not make it add up in my head, what I was seeing did not compute with anything I knew.

BOOK: Tansy Taylor
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