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Authors: Ellis Vidler
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the lights on a matronly woman in a pink dress. He walked quietly around the room, studying the photographs on the wall.
Venice , shadowed and mysterious, gazed directly into the lens of the camera over a candle flame. Next to her hung a cool blonde straight out of the twenties. Speakeasies and the word “ gams ” came to mind at her pose—one knee up and one long leg stretched out to show the edge of a black garter beneath a short, fringed skirt. A curl of smoke wafted across the dark background, adding to the illusion.
He couldn’t figure out how Kate had known about the body in the lake, but she obviously had a lot of imagination. It had to be more than a lucky guess, but he couldn’t picture her being involved in a murder.
Next to the blonde, a slim, brooding man in Edwardian evening clothes stared at a painting of an early Manhattan skyline. Interesting effects. John wondered how Kate would photograph him. Somehow, a computer terminal and tape recorder didn't have the same appeal as an old Underwood and a battered notepad. He turned back to Kate and her client.
From his vantage point in the shadows, John was able to study her. Today she wore a dark blue dress with her hair slicked into a tight knot above her colorless face. She was nothing like the competent woman in the gray suit he had seen at last night’s meeting. Nor was she anything like the angry, tousled woman he had met at the Black Forest . She looked downright mousy. What a fraud! She ought to be wearing tiger stripes.
Kate moved around her client, tugging the pink skirt into graceful folds, tilting the woman's face to hide a slight double chin.
She stepped back to the camera and looked down into the lens. She made a slight adjustment to the tripod. “Just lift your chin a little more. That's good. Close your eyes and rest them. Keep them closed until I tell you. Now, think about your new granddaughter. Open your eyes.” The woman immediately smiled, and Kate snapped a shot. She moved a light and adjusted the camera as they chatted. “Okay. Just a couple more and we're finished.” She took her final shots and turned off the spotlights. “Okay, that’s it.”
The woman rose and walked to the desk with Kate. “Can you have the proofs ready by next Tuesday? Is that too soon?”
“No. They should be back by then.” Kate filled out a receipt and handed it to her.
“Thanks for squeezing me into your schedule. It's kind of a last-minute anniversary present. My husband's been wanting me to do this for years, and when he told me you were doing the portraits at the bank, I decided to call you.” She placed the paper in her purse and, with a nod to Venice and John, stepped through the door.
Kate turned to Venice and John. “Well, you two look as though you've been up to no good. What's new?”
“There's a new development on our case. I thought it best that John tell both of us face to face,” Venice said.
He shook his head at Venice 's words and dropped into a chair. “The police found Kelly Landrum's body this morning. She was in Lake Jocassee , standing just the way you said.”
“My God.” Kate paled and sat quickly on the edge of the desk. “I kept hoping it wasn't true.”
“The poor child. After we saw her in the water, I knew it was only a matter of time till she was found.” Venice patted the younger woman on the shoulder. “You must learn to accept your visions, Kate. While we are truly gifted, the price we pay can be terrible, especially if you fight it.”
John shifted uncomfortably. “I know you didn't want to be involved in this, but the police know it's murder now. She was weighted with concrete blocks and thrown into that lake.”
Kate sucked in her breath.
“Is there anything else—anything at all you remember that could tie in to the killer?” He leaned forward and looked at Kate.
Venice shook her head. “Our visions cannot be willed or controlled. They are a gift and, sometimes, a curse. We
Venice , shadowed and mysterious, gazed directly into the lens of the camera over a candle flame. Next to her hung a cool blonde straight out of the twenties. Speakeasies and the word “ gams ” came to mind at her pose—one knee up and one long leg stretched out to show the edge of a black garter beneath a short, fringed skirt. A curl of smoke wafted across the dark background, adding to the illusion.
He couldn’t figure out how Kate had known about the body in the lake, but she obviously had a lot of imagination. It had to be more than a lucky guess, but he couldn’t picture her being involved in a murder.
Next to the blonde, a slim, brooding man in Edwardian evening clothes stared at a painting of an early Manhattan skyline. Interesting effects. John wondered how Kate would photograph him. Somehow, a computer terminal and tape recorder didn't have the same appeal as an old Underwood and a battered notepad. He turned back to Kate and her client.
From his vantage point in the shadows, John was able to study her. Today she wore a dark blue dress with her hair slicked into a tight knot above her colorless face. She was nothing like the competent woman in the gray suit he had seen at last night’s meeting. Nor was she anything like the angry, tousled woman he had met at the Black Forest . She looked downright mousy. What a fraud! She ought to be wearing tiger stripes.
Kate moved around her client, tugging the pink skirt into graceful folds, tilting the woman's face to hide a slight double chin.
She stepped back to the camera and looked down into the lens. She made a slight adjustment to the tripod. “Just lift your chin a little more. That's good. Close your eyes and rest them. Keep them closed until I tell you. Now, think about your new granddaughter. Open your eyes.” The woman immediately smiled, and Kate snapped a shot. She moved a light and adjusted the camera as they chatted. “Okay. Just a couple more and we're finished.” She took her final shots and turned off the spotlights. “Okay, that’s it.”
The woman rose and walked to the desk with Kate. “Can you have the proofs ready by next Tuesday? Is that too soon?”
“No. They should be back by then.” Kate filled out a receipt and handed it to her.
“Thanks for squeezing me into your schedule. It's kind of a last-minute anniversary present. My husband's been wanting me to do this for years, and when he told me you were doing the portraits at the bank, I decided to call you.” She placed the paper in her purse and, with a nod to Venice and John, stepped through the door.
Kate turned to Venice and John. “Well, you two look as though you've been up to no good. What's new?”
“There's a new development on our case. I thought it best that John tell both of us face to face,” Venice said.
He shook his head at Venice 's words and dropped into a chair. “The police found Kelly Landrum's body this morning. She was in Lake Jocassee , standing just the way you said.”
“My God.” Kate paled and sat quickly on the edge of the desk. “I kept hoping it wasn't true.”
“The poor child. After we saw her in the water, I knew it was only a matter of time till she was found.” Venice patted the younger woman on the shoulder. “You must learn to accept your visions, Kate. While we are truly gifted, the price we pay can be terrible, especially if you fight it.”
John shifted uncomfortably. “I know you didn't want to be involved in this, but the police know it's murder now. She was weighted with concrete blocks and thrown into that lake.”
Kate sucked in her breath.
“Is there anything else—anything at all you remember that could tie in to the killer?” He leaned forward and looked at Kate.
Venice shook her head. “Our visions cannot be willed or controlled. They are a gift and, sometimes, a curse. We
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