indistinct. Red heat prickled up my neck and flushed my cheeks. I stood quickly, thankful that Gabriel didn’t notice how embarrassed I suddenly felt.
When dealing with items that many people have touched, the visions can compete with each other and mush togetherinto an indeterminate mess. I was hoping to pick up something of Victoria since she was the most recent inhabitant of the room. But it was obvious from what I’d just seen that the motel mustn’t wash their bedspreads often. I needed to find somewhere that her touch lingered.
I looked around for the remote and found it on top of the television. I held it in my hands, closed my eyes, and concentrated. I saw nothing, but felt overwhelming frustration.
“Anything from the remote?” Gabriel asked. So much for him being quiet.
“Not a thing.”
“That’s good, considering she didn’t use it. The TV is broken. She complained at the office the night she was killed.”
That might explain the tremendous feeling of aggravation I felt while holding it. “It’s too bad,” I said.
“Why?”
“If the TV worked she might have stayed in and watched SNL. Not gone to Yummy’s. Not ended up dead.”
He shrugged. “We can’t see the future.”
“You’ve got that right.”
He cocked his head. “Wait a minute, you claim you’re a psychic but you don’t believe people can see the future?”
“Correct.” I moved to the dresser now, felt each knob on the drawers.
“Why not?”
I shrugged. “I’ve never met anyone who could. And, believe me, considering the population of freakazoids in the town my folks are from, if there were someone who could see the future, we’d have heard of them by now.”
“What about that new Madame Maslov who came to town?”
“Scam artist,” I said.
He laughed. “Pot, meet kettle.”
“I’m not a scam artist!” I was so sick of having to defend myself to this loser. A gorgeous loser with a low, raspy voice and a great body, but still.
“Don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical that you get all mad at people who don’t believe in your gift, yet you judge this Maslov woman the same way these people judge you?” Gabriel asked.
I had to admit — to myself — that he had a good point. But I didn’t have to admit it to him. I put my hands on my hips. “Can you please shut up so I can concentrate here?”
He smirked, but complied.
I worked the room over for twenty more minutes with no concrete results. I needed a spot Victoria Happel had touched that wasn’t recently touched by a hundred other people. But finding that spot could take all day.
“Ready to quit?” Gabriel asked with hope in his voice.
An idea occurred to me. “Do you have crime scene photos?”
“Yeah, right here in my back pocket.”
I groaned. Wiseass. “Photos were taken, correct?”
“Yeah. What do you need to see?”
“I need to know the position her body was found in.”
He stood and gazed at the bed. “I saw those photos. I remember. She was lying on the bed.”
I paused. “I need to recreate it.”
“Excuse me?”
I got on the bed. The sheets and pillows had been stripped, I assumed for the blood evidence. I lay atop the mattress and stared at the ceiling Victoria Happel had most likely stared at only three nights ago.
“Move me into the position she was found in. As exact as you can.”
He shook his head. “This is sick.”
“Just help me and then you’ll be done with me for the day.”
“I don’t see how this is helpful at all. As a matter of fact, I’m starting to think you’re completely wasting my time.”
I had stopped listening to him. Something wasn’t right here. I focused on a small, perfectly circular, dark spot on the white popcorn ceiling. I squinted my eyes. “What’s that?” I asked, almost to myself.
“What?” Gabriel followed my eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t see anything.”
I clambered to a standing position on the bed and reached up on my tiptoes. Now that I was only
When dealing with items that many people have touched, the visions can compete with each other and mush togetherinto an indeterminate mess. I was hoping to pick up something of Victoria since she was the most recent inhabitant of the room. But it was obvious from what I’d just seen that the motel mustn’t wash their bedspreads often. I needed to find somewhere that her touch lingered.
I looked around for the remote and found it on top of the television. I held it in my hands, closed my eyes, and concentrated. I saw nothing, but felt overwhelming frustration.
“Anything from the remote?” Gabriel asked. So much for him being quiet.
“Not a thing.”
“That’s good, considering she didn’t use it. The TV is broken. She complained at the office the night she was killed.”
That might explain the tremendous feeling of aggravation I felt while holding it. “It’s too bad,” I said.
“Why?”
“If the TV worked she might have stayed in and watched SNL. Not gone to Yummy’s. Not ended up dead.”
He shrugged. “We can’t see the future.”
“You’ve got that right.”
He cocked his head. “Wait a minute, you claim you’re a psychic but you don’t believe people can see the future?”
“Correct.” I moved to the dresser now, felt each knob on the drawers.
“Why not?”
I shrugged. “I’ve never met anyone who could. And, believe me, considering the population of freakazoids in the town my folks are from, if there were someone who could see the future, we’d have heard of them by now.”
“What about that new Madame Maslov who came to town?”
“Scam artist,” I said.
He laughed. “Pot, meet kettle.”
“I’m not a scam artist!” I was so sick of having to defend myself to this loser. A gorgeous loser with a low, raspy voice and a great body, but still.
“Don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical that you get all mad at people who don’t believe in your gift, yet you judge this Maslov woman the same way these people judge you?” Gabriel asked.
I had to admit — to myself — that he had a good point. But I didn’t have to admit it to him. I put my hands on my hips. “Can you please shut up so I can concentrate here?”
He smirked, but complied.
I worked the room over for twenty more minutes with no concrete results. I needed a spot Victoria Happel had touched that wasn’t recently touched by a hundred other people. But finding that spot could take all day.
“Ready to quit?” Gabriel asked with hope in his voice.
An idea occurred to me. “Do you have crime scene photos?”
“Yeah, right here in my back pocket.”
I groaned. Wiseass. “Photos were taken, correct?”
“Yeah. What do you need to see?”
“I need to know the position her body was found in.”
He stood and gazed at the bed. “I saw those photos. I remember. She was lying on the bed.”
I paused. “I need to recreate it.”
“Excuse me?”
I got on the bed. The sheets and pillows had been stripped, I assumed for the blood evidence. I lay atop the mattress and stared at the ceiling Victoria Happel had most likely stared at only three nights ago.
“Move me into the position she was found in. As exact as you can.”
He shook his head. “This is sick.”
“Just help me and then you’ll be done with me for the day.”
“I don’t see how this is helpful at all. As a matter of fact, I’m starting to think you’re completely wasting my time.”
I had stopped listening to him. Something wasn’t right here. I focused on a small, perfectly circular, dark spot on the white popcorn ceiling. I squinted my eyes. “What’s that?” I asked, almost to myself.
“What?” Gabriel followed my eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t see anything.”
I clambered to a standing position on the bed and reached up on my tiptoes. Now that I was only
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