“That surprises me. She was looking forward to this.”
“Tips alone would be generous.”
“Have you called her?”
“Twice. No answer.”
She opened her slim black purse and checked her cell. No calls. Worry crept up her spine. “I can go track her down.”
“She was my big draw. I mean the clowns are fun and the juggler entertaining, but people like the idea of walking on the dark side.”
“The dark side?”
“You know what I mean. I don’t care how rich or famous someone is, they are just as curious about the future as the next guy.” Angie waved away her concerns. “She’s likely forgotten and working late at her shop.”
“Then why doesn’t she answer her phone?”
“Maybe she turns it off during readings. I mean a cell sure would break the vibe.”
That made sense. Sooner, like her, had been raised never to break character. “I’ll have a seat at her table and fill in until she gets here.”
“She was going to read tarot cards. Do you have cards?”
“No. I generally don’t carry tarot cards,” she said, smiling. “But I can read palms.” Maybe Sooner had just blown them off. She was young and pretty and men loved her. And she’d missed that one appointment with Charlotte.
“You can read palms?”
Angie’s relief prompted a smile. “You haven’t heard the tidbits about my carnie days?”
“I had, I kinda thought you’d cracked a joke, and it had gotten blown up.”
“No. No joke. I worked the circuit when I was a kid with my family.”
Angie laughed. “One day you’re going to have to tell me all about it.”
The band filed onto the bandstand in the corner and started tuning up. “It’s not so very interesting.”
“Charlotte, you were raised in a carnival and not in high society as we’d all thought. Sorry to burst your bubble, but that’s interesting.”
Charlotte let her gaze move across the room. “Where’s my table?”
“The red draped one over there. I’ve posted a sign, and I think you already have a line.”
Charlotte arched a brow. If you’d bet her two weeks ago she’d be here now, reading palms, she’d have wagered everything she owned against you sure she’d win. And yet here she was with no time to fret or worry but simply to perform. “Okay.”
“Are you any good at this?”
“I used to be pretty good back in the day.”
“Kinda like riding a bike?”
“Let’s hope.”
Angie stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. “So were palms your thing or did you read cards?”
“Angie, do you want me to trip down memory lane or read palms?”
“Honestly, I’m dying to hear your story. But I can wait.”
“Good.”
As she moved toward her table, her worries about Sooner grew with each passing minute. Had Grady told Sooner the truth to drive a wedge between her and Charlotte?
No, you wouldn’t do that. You know Sooner’s too curious and direct. If you told her about me, I’d be the first person she’d find.
She flipped open her phone and called Daniel’s cell. It went to voice mail on the first ring. She listened to his deep clear voice, “You have reached Detective Daniel Rokov. Leave a message.”
“Hey, this is Charlotte. I’m at Angie’s thing. Sooner never showed. Might not be anything, but something doesn’t feel right. Could you send a car by her shop?” She dropped her voice a notch. “I appreciate it, Daniel. Thanks.”
She closed the phone, knowing Rokov would take care of the matter. A sense of calm washed over her anxious nerves when she thought about him. Like it or not, he had worked his way under her skin.
She moved toward her table, stopping and chatting with people she knew from the community. She made a point to ask folks for their names, what they thought about readings, and what they hoped to gain. She filed away the tidbits and invited all to stop by and visit her so she could read their palms. She’d been working the crowds since she was thirteen, and it was something she did better than anyone.
Judge Lawless and his wife appeared at her table. “Counselor.”
Charlotte’s grin was broad and welcoming. “Judge and Mrs. Lawless. Have a seat, be my first customers.”
The judge looked grim and his wife reserved. Neither looked as if they wanted to be here. But the judge understood politics and never missed an opportunity to shake the right hands.
He pulled two twenties from his pocket and tucked them in the fish bowl on Charlotte’s table. “It’s for charity?”
“All proceeds go toward the children’s cancer wing at Alexandria Hospital.” She grinned and waved her hand toward the seats in front of her desk. “This is an opportunity you cannot pass up.”
Mrs. Lawless smiled coolly. The judge scowled.
Charlotte sat. “Now who is going first?”
The two looked at each other, he nodded, and Mrs. Lawless sat in her seat. “Me, I suppose.”
Charlotte grinned. She’d heard faint rumors that the couple’s marriage wasn’t doing well. Some said he’d moved out, but the judge, to her knowledge, had not spoken of a separation. No doubt her past, like their separation, would soon be churning on the rumor mill for months.
“So let me see, what you have going on here?” She studied the deeply rutted lines in the woman’s palm. “You have a very strong lifeline. You’ve lived many past lives.”
“I have?” Polite but not impressed.
“At least eight.” Charlotte traced the line. “And I think you’re going to live a long life.”
Mrs. Lawless stiffened a little. “Good.”
“Not impressed, Wellington.” The judge rolled his eyes and walked away.
Mrs. Lawless sighed as she watched her husband walk away. “He can be blunt.”
“I’ve noticed that in court.” He had a reputation for being a real hard-ass and most attorneys groaned when they drew Lawless.
Charlotte suspected the judge’s wife was just as hard a sale as him. However, she’d met, welcomed, and conquered similar folk. “Let’s try this again.”
Without her husband looming, she relaxed a little. “Sure.”
Charlotte traced the woman’s lifeline. “The judge has promised you a vacation, but he is hesitating.”
Mrs. Lawless’s eyes narrowed. “We’ve canceled some of the best vacations. No secret there.”
She glanced at Mrs. Lawless’s small diamond engagement ring sandwiched against a larger, brighter solitaire diamond. Life had been good to them, but she still cherished the ring he’d given her on their wedding day. “But he loves you very much. Vacations don’t matter to him, but you do.”
Mrs. Lawless stiffened and pulled her hand free.
Charlotte knew she’d hit a nerve. “I see more. Don’t you want to hear it?”
She hesitated. “I’m not sure.”
“A faint heart never wins.”
Challenged, the woman extended her hand.
“I see vacation pamphlets lying about the house and notes on trips.” When Mrs. Lawless didn’t respond, Charlotte knew she’d missed the mark and quickly turned the negative into a positive. “These pamphlets are old. From vacations never taken.”
Mrs. Lawless’s grip softened. “Yes.”
“Get more brochures, Mrs. Lawless. Plan your dream vacation, and I believe you will find that for which you search.”
The older woman’s face had softened, and she stared at Charlotte, clearly surprised. “What am I searching for?”
“For the marriage you had when you first married. I believe it is there, but you must dig for it.”
“What if he doesn’t want to find it?”
Charlotte glanced up and looked beyond Mrs. Lawless to her husband, who kept stealing glances in their direction. “He wants it.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you for your donation.”
After Mrs. Lawless left, Charlotte had a stream of customers. The old tactics of using body language as well as the bits of information she’d collected as she walked to the table added credibility to her readings.
The evening progressed smoothly enough. She read palms, joked with attorneys, judges, and clients, but all the while she kept glancing toward the door hoping to see Sooner rush in, harried and full of good excuses to explain her no-show status.
Sooner never arrived. And when Charlotte could break away to call, she never answered her phone. Though the event was proving to be a real success, Charlotte’s worries grew.
“So you are a popular attraction.” Levi Kane’s comment had her raising her head.
Charlotte smiled out of habit rather than joy. “It seems to be going well.”
He sat at her table. “You’ve had quite the line for the last hour.”
“Most love their fortune read.”
He pulled two twenties from his wallet and stuffed them in her jar, already crammed full of bills. “It’s for a great cause.”
“That it is.” She held out her open palm to him. “Let me read you.”
He grinned. “I don’t go in for that kind of thing. Just a little out there, if you know what I mean. Shame my wife isn’t here. She loves that kind of stuff.”
“Where is she this evening?”
“Home. Our youngest is sick with a cold. We were both looking forward to a night out, but when your kid gets sick, that’s the way it goes.”
Without the distraction of work or a palm reading, there wasn’t much to say. “Sure I can’t offer you a glimpse into the future?”
He laughed. “It’s all hocus-pocus.”
“Harmless hocus-pocus.”
He studied her a moment. “Harmless? You sure? Old Darren on
Bewitched
was always getting turned into a rock or sporting donkey ears.”
Laughter eased some of her tension. “I promise I won’t turn you into a black cat or give you donkey ears.”
He glanced from side to side, always aware of who was watching. Nearby a photographer from the paper snapped pictures. Levi reminded her of herself. Once you stepped outside your front door, it was game-on. “Thanks, but I’ll take a pass.”
She smiled. “You are always thinking. Always looking to the next horizon.”
“I’m ambitious.”
“I see you running for state office. Perhaps even national office.”
He shrugged. “It’s no secret the sky is the limit for me.”
He wanted office, true. But he possessed a hunger for power. He wanted power over life and death. “I think you’ll be a judge, maybe even a senator in the very near future.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Rokov had been in the medical examiner’s office when Charlotte had called. He’d felt his phone vibrate but had been unable to check messages for several hours. As soon as he played her message, he broke away and drove over to Sooner Tate’s shop. When he finally stood outside Ageless, it was past ten. The building was dark, and there didn’t seem to be any signs of trouble. But calm waters often hid trouble.
He got out of the car, flashlight in hand, and crossed the street to the front door. The doorknob was locked. He shone his light in the picture window, letting it skim over the front counter, glowing lava lamps, books, and all sorts of crap. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
“Kid, have you blown Charlotte off?”
He shook his head. Damn kid. He was half tempted to walk away when he thought about the alley that ran behind the store. Five minutes to check and confirm the kid was well and truly gone and then he’d call Charlotte.
He got back in his car and drove around the corner and into the alley. His lights shone on the narrow alley and landed on the truck parked by a dented blue Dumpster. He parked beside the car, unclipped his sidearm, and rested his hand on the gun’s handle. He walked toward the truck, and shone his light into the interior. His feet crunched on something, and he glanced down to see a smashed cell phone. “Shit.”
Inside the truck, Sooner’s satchel purse lay on the seat as did her keys. He tried the door. Unlocked. He removed his gun from its holster as he reached for his radio.
“Dispatch, this is Detective Daniel Rokov. I need units at 101 Washington Street. I’ve got signs of a possible attack.”
“Will Dispatch units, Detective Rokov.”
He called Sinclair. “I need you to get over to Sooner Tate’s place on Washington. I think the killer has been here.”
“How do you know?” She was at the office, but her voice sounded rough with fatigue. They’d all been putting long hours into this investigation.
“Her truck is here and so are her purse and keys, but someone smashed her cell phone.”
“Sooner was his perfect victim.”
“I know.” What would Charlotte say when he told her that her child had been kidnapped?