Read Online Relative Malice by Marla Madison, Madison - Free Book Online
Authors: Marla Madison, Madison
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walls looked clean and fresh, the paint covering the ugly, aged surface.
After she’d changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, she remembered Callandra. Could Brynn be Chelsea Glausson’s fortune-teller? It hardly seemed likely the teenager with albinism, living right across the hall, could be Callandra. There was only one way to find out, and if she were going to do it tonight, she had to do it now before fatigue overcame her.
The colored glass panes in her neighbor’s door were lit from behind—Brynn must still be awake. Kendall knocked softly.
Brynn opened the door dressed in a charcoal gray sweat suit and track shoes, dark glasses still perched on her slightly hooked nose.
“Sorry to come by so late.”
“It’s okay. I’m a night person.”
“I’d like to talk to you for a minute.”
Opening the door wider, Brynn motioned her inside. Even with her undeveloped appreciation for décor, Kendall liked the cozy interior. Furnished with antiques and old-fashioned memorabilia, the effect was warm and inviting.
“Actually, this is an official visit,” Kendall added, following Brynn into the small living room. A latticed teak screen carved out an alcove in the back of the room where a small, round table with two chairs on either side sat in front of two tall, narrow windows.
The white cat, comfortable in his new surroundings, perched on the table and gazed out the window while the soothing notes of a harp flowed from an iPod system on a nearby shelf.
Kendall took a seat on a sofa that had to be more than seventy-five years old, upholstered in deep maroon velvet. “Do you go by the name Callandra when you do your readings?”
“Yes.”
The ambiance in the apartment was muted, supplied by candles and mood lighting. Nothing you could read a book by, much less a face. It was hard to tell what Brynn was thinking behind the dark glasses. Kendall thought about asking her to remove them but thought better of it. This was a preliminary interview, and Brynn wasn’t a suspect.
“Do you remember doing a reading for Chelsea Glausson?”
In nearly a whisper, Brynn said, “I was going to talk to you about that.”
“When did you see her?”
“June seventeenth. I had a booth at the psychic fair.”
Kendall remembered being invited to attend when she was still living with Nat. Way too “woo-woo” for her taste, she’d begged off. “And she came in to see you?”
“Yes.”
Kendall sighed. She was finding Brynn’s reluctant conversational style annoying. “And then what happened?”
“I was only doing one-question readings.”
“I’m going to need more than that.” Damn, she needed to see the girl’s eyes.
“I’m not sure I should tell you.”
“I don’t believe a psychic interpreter can claim privilege.”
“She was with her daughter. I saw the daughter first, then she made her mother come in.”
Finally used to the dim lighting, Kendall could see Brynn’s hands twisting in her lap. Kendall’s questions were upsetting her. “What happened during your readings?”
“The girl wanted to know about her boyfriend—she asked me if they would get married someday. But I saw something different in the cards . . . something she didn’t ask me about. Death.”
Naturally, Brynn didn’t expound. “Then what?”
“I had her reshuffle the cards and we did another spread. It didn’t change. I don’t like to tell people bad things, so I just answered the boyfriend question.”
She saw death in the cards. Right. Kendall had never been a believer in the occult. “Go on.”
The cat appeared next to Brynn, rubbing against her leg. She scooped him up and held him tightly against her chest before settling him on her lap. “Malkin. Do you know what that name means?”
“Not a clue.”
“Malkin is a cat that’s a witch’s familiar. Like in that movie— Bell, Book and Candle .”
Kendall still had no clue.
“It’s an old movie from the ‘50s. With Kim Novak. That’s how I knew Malkin and
After she’d changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, she remembered Callandra. Could Brynn be Chelsea Glausson’s fortune-teller? It hardly seemed likely the teenager with albinism, living right across the hall, could be Callandra. There was only one way to find out, and if she were going to do it tonight, she had to do it now before fatigue overcame her.
The colored glass panes in her neighbor’s door were lit from behind—Brynn must still be awake. Kendall knocked softly.
Brynn opened the door dressed in a charcoal gray sweat suit and track shoes, dark glasses still perched on her slightly hooked nose.
“Sorry to come by so late.”
“It’s okay. I’m a night person.”
“I’d like to talk to you for a minute.”
Opening the door wider, Brynn motioned her inside. Even with her undeveloped appreciation for décor, Kendall liked the cozy interior. Furnished with antiques and old-fashioned memorabilia, the effect was warm and inviting.
“Actually, this is an official visit,” Kendall added, following Brynn into the small living room. A latticed teak screen carved out an alcove in the back of the room where a small, round table with two chairs on either side sat in front of two tall, narrow windows.
The white cat, comfortable in his new surroundings, perched on the table and gazed out the window while the soothing notes of a harp flowed from an iPod system on a nearby shelf.
Kendall took a seat on a sofa that had to be more than seventy-five years old, upholstered in deep maroon velvet. “Do you go by the name Callandra when you do your readings?”
“Yes.”
The ambiance in the apartment was muted, supplied by candles and mood lighting. Nothing you could read a book by, much less a face. It was hard to tell what Brynn was thinking behind the dark glasses. Kendall thought about asking her to remove them but thought better of it. This was a preliminary interview, and Brynn wasn’t a suspect.
“Do you remember doing a reading for Chelsea Glausson?”
In nearly a whisper, Brynn said, “I was going to talk to you about that.”
“When did you see her?”
“June seventeenth. I had a booth at the psychic fair.”
Kendall remembered being invited to attend when she was still living with Nat. Way too “woo-woo” for her taste, she’d begged off. “And she came in to see you?”
“Yes.”
Kendall sighed. She was finding Brynn’s reluctant conversational style annoying. “And then what happened?”
“I was only doing one-question readings.”
“I’m going to need more than that.” Damn, she needed to see the girl’s eyes.
“I’m not sure I should tell you.”
“I don’t believe a psychic interpreter can claim privilege.”
“She was with her daughter. I saw the daughter first, then she made her mother come in.”
Finally used to the dim lighting, Kendall could see Brynn’s hands twisting in her lap. Kendall’s questions were upsetting her. “What happened during your readings?”
“The girl wanted to know about her boyfriend—she asked me if they would get married someday. But I saw something different in the cards . . . something she didn’t ask me about. Death.”
Naturally, Brynn didn’t expound. “Then what?”
“I had her reshuffle the cards and we did another spread. It didn’t change. I don’t like to tell people bad things, so I just answered the boyfriend question.”
She saw death in the cards. Right. Kendall had never been a believer in the occult. “Go on.”
The cat appeared next to Brynn, rubbing against her leg. She scooped him up and held him tightly against her chest before settling him on her lap. “Malkin. Do you know what that name means?”
“Not a clue.”
“Malkin is a cat that’s a witch’s familiar. Like in that movie— Bell, Book and Candle .”
Kendall still had no clue.
“It’s an old movie from the ‘50s. With Kim Novak. That’s how I knew Malkin and
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