Chapter Two
Raissa Bordeaux stared across the table at Maryse and Sabine, an uncertain look on her normally focused face. “So let me get this straight,” Raissa began, “Maryse started seeing her dead mother-in-law weeks ago, and now you see her, Sabine?”
Sabine glanced over at Maryse, looking for permission to tell Raissa everything. Maryse nodded, and Sabine began her explanation. “No. I can only hear her. We’re not sure why I can’t see her, but Maryse still can.” Sabine hoped her mentor—a real psychic—might have some answers.
Raissa’s bright green eyes glowed with interest. “Okay. So both of you can hear her, and Maryse can see her, so what exactly do you need from me?”
“Does that sound normal to you?”
Raissa laughed. “Hell, no. It’s probably the most bizarre thing I’ve ever heard.”
Sabine sighed and tried to control her disappointment. “Darn. We were really hoping you would know what was going on with the audio/video display.”
“This one is a first for me,” Raissa said.
“Okay,” Sabine replied, “then this is our next problem. You know I’ve been trying to locate my family.”
Raissa nodded.
“Helena once created an image of my parents for me to see. She said she looked on the ‘other side’ and asked for them, and they appeared. Unfortunately, she can call them and see them, but they don’t answer when she talks to them.” Sabine frowned at the thought of being so close, yet so far away from an answer. “We thought that if Helena could create the image again, you could draw it, and it might give us more to go on. I’ve never even had a photo of them, so this could be a huge breakthrough.”
“You want me to draw a portrait of your parents from a dead woman’s image?”
Maryse laughed. “You know, Raissa, for a psychic, you seem to be having an awful lot of trouble with this.”
“I get visions, not apparitions.” Raissa shook her head. “Sabine, I thought you’d finally put this behind you. Why are you starting it all up again now?”
Sabine swallowed. “I need to find a family member.”
Raissa’s face cleared in immediate understanding, then sympathy. “You have cancer, don’t you?”
Sabine nodded, struggling to maintain composure.
“Oh, Sabine,” Raissa said, “I am so, so sorry. How are you planning to use the drawing?”
“I don’t know yet, exactly,” Sabine admitted. “Show it around? Maybe run an ad in the newspaper?”
Raissa was silent for a moment, then looked at Sabine. “Several years ago, a client mentioned a private investigator here in New Orleans who specializes in missing persons. I think he’s usually working on more recent cases—consulting with the police, that sort of thing. But if you’d like, I could contact him and see if he’s available to help you. I remember his rate being quite reasonable.”
Sabine nodded. “If you can recommend someone, that would be great. I started saving to buy a house, but this is a little more important.”
“I can help, too,” Maryse added. “Since I’ve got the grant with the medical research company in New Orleans, I don’t need my own lab equipment anymore. I still have a lot of the money from my inheritance.”
Raissa nodded. “If you need any more, I’ve got a bit stuck back myself. And let me know if you need someone to cover at your shop. I can always shift my clients around.”
Sabine felt tears gather in her eyes and she sniffed. “Thank you both so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Raissa smiled. “That’s what friends are for, right?” She looked over at Maryse. “Well, if you two think this ghost can produce the image, I’m game to try it. Hell, it would probably be the most interesting thing I’ve ever done. Is the ghost here now?”
Maryse rose from her chair and opened the front door of Raissa’s New Orleans’ shop, then motioned to someone on the sidewalk.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Sabine could hear Helena the Horrific Ghost bitching before she ever entered the shop. “Leaving me standing out on the sidewalk like some vagrant. That’s not respect, I tell you.”
Maryse waited for Helena to enter the shop, then closed the door behind her.
Raissa looked over at her. “What? Is she not here?”
Sabine shook her head. “Oh, no, she’s here, believe me. I might not be able to see her, but I could hear her bitching from three parishes over.”
Maryse nodded her head in agreement. “That’s why we left her outside. Trying to have a conversation with Helena around is like trying to watch a movie with a two-year-old.”
“I see how it is,” Helena ranted. “You expect me to do you favors, but you want to insult me. And what the hell are we doing here anyway…talking to another nutbag?”
Sabine closed her eyes and sighed. “Raissa is an artist, Helena. I want you to reproduce that image of my parents so Raissa can draw it.”
“Hmm. A new approach to your lifetime of futility. Why don’t you let this go, Sabine?”
“I have my reasons, Helena.” Sabine and Maryse had already agreed that the less Helena knew, the better. The ghost would be certain to want to “help.” And Helena’s help was something they were hoping to do without, except on a very selective and clearly instructed basis. “Can you produce the image or not?”
“Of course I can produce it. Tell the nutbag to break out her charcoal.”
Sabine looked over at Raissa and nodded. “She’s ready whenever you are.”
Raissa pulled a drawing pad and pencil from a table behind her and flipped to a blank sheet. “Ready.”
“Go ahead, Helena,” Sabine instructed.
There were several seconds of dead silence, and for a moment, Sabine was afraid that Helena wasn’t going to be able to pull it off. Then a small orb of light began to glow just to the side of the table. Raissa gave a small start when the orb appeared and watched in fascination as it grew in size and detail, ultimately depicting a man and woman standing in the center of the light.
Raissa stared at the image, her eyes wide, then finally asked, “How long can she hold that?”
“We’re not sure,” Sabine said.
Raissa laughed, her expression still mingled with excitement and disbelief. “Then I best get to drawing.”