Detective Jay sucked in a breath. Bingo. It wasn’t a huge leap. I’d read a lot of cop marriages didn’t last. Now it was time to throw in another guess for a big win. “She’s with someone else now. It’s still hard for you.”
Detective Jay’s hands shook slightly, and he put them under the table so we couldn’t see. I felt bad picking at a clearly sensitive subject, but I needed them to believe I was something special.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. I tucked the card into my pocket. “Sometimes things just come into my head.” Jay nodded, but I noticed he was careful not to touch me again.
“What can you tell about me?” Chan thrust his hands across the table. Unlike Jay, his hands were slight and smooth, almost like a mannequin’s. I lightly touched his palm, then pulled away as if his skin were hot. “You believe Paige is dead. That in the end, if you find her at all, it will be too late.”
He didn’t jump, but I saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Nailed it. Not that it was a hard guess. Chan was a cynic, and Paige was a missing girl whose car had been found with blood in it. Statistically that didn’t bode well.
The door flew open, and my mom stood there, the receptionist a few steps behind. It must have been raining. Her shirt was damp, and her mascara had smudged under her eyes. She looked rumpled, like an irritated homeless woman who would yell at you for not giving her a quarter.
“What’s going on?” she demanded. She looked back and forth between me and the cops trying to figure out just how much trouble I’d gotten myself into this time. I knew when they called her that she might show up. What I never knew was how to predict her reaction.
Mr. Lester stood as if he was about to start formal introductions. “I’m Mr. Lester from school. We’ve spoken on the phone a few times.”
Mom crossed her arms over her chest. “My boss told me this was about that missing girl.”
Detective Jay also stood. “Sorry. I left a message with your employer when I couldn’t reach you. Skye isn’t in any kind of trouble. We wanted to ask her more about the premonition she had about her classmate Paige Bonnet.”
“She had a premonition?” Mom’s eyes sparkled and she stood a bit straighter. “Our family is very gifted in connecting with the spiritual plane. I’m not surprised. Candi was always special.”
“Skye,” both Mr. Lester and I said at the same time. My jaw was tight.
“The real tragedy is that most people aren’t willing to listen to advice from beyond this world,” Mom said.
Oh shit. She was about to climb up on her “I’m a magical person and the rest of the world doesn’t treat me special” soapbox.
Detective Jay’s arms were wide, like he wanted to give all of us a hug. “I’ll admit your daughter is making a believer out of me. Her hunch about Paige has been vital to the investigation. If not for her, we wouldn’t have found the car.”
“We would have found it eventually.” Chan sounded annoyed.
“But time is of the essence in these kinds of cases, isn’t it? What with that poor girl missing.” Mom thrust her chin in the air. “Maybe this is something I could help with too.”
Oh god. No. I tried to catch my mom’s eye so I could mentally scream at her to shut up.
Chan’s eyebrows shot up. “You have something you can tell us about the case?” He looked around the table to see if he was the only one who was confused. “You’re a psychic too?”
“Oh, of course, our whole family has the ability. Let me try.” Mom touched her temples and closed her eyes. “The girl is in great danger. I can see her, but she’s surrounded by negative energy. It’s all olive green and a dark, almost maroon around her.”
“She’s in a green and maroon room?” Chan asked, trying to make sense of what she was saying.
Mom’s eyes flew open, annoyed. “No, of course not. Those are her aura colors.”
Detective Jay nodded, but Chan looked like he was ready to fit my mom for a tinfoil hat. I was clenching my jaw so tightly that I heard it click.
“Can you see what kind of danger she’s in? Or anything about where she might be?” Detective Jay picked up his pen, ready to write down whatever words of wisdom spilled from her mouth.
Mom massaged her wrists. “They have her tied up. The rope, or maybe it’s some kind of wire, or cord, is cutting into her skin. I can feel it.”
“Maybe it’s those plastic zip ties,” Jay suggested.
Mom’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t think I can tell you anything more—?the connection’s lost.”
Mr. Lester was gaping at my mom, his mouth open in awe. He’d never seen her in action before. Detective Chan pushed his seat back. “Well, if the connection is lost, we might as well call it a day. Both or either of you need to get in touch if you get any other . . . hunches. Otherwise I’m going to ask you to keep your involvement quiet.”
“Of course,” I said at the same time that my mom asked, “Why?”
“We typically keep certain details out of the public eye,” Detective Chan said. “We don’t want to get a bunch of wackos who pretend like they know something when they don’t. We want to make sure we can focus on finding Paige.”
It might have been my imagination, but he seemed to be staring right at me as he spoke. My heart picked up speed. If he guessed what I was up to, I was dead.
Eleven
Mom practically bounced in the driver’s seat. “When I woke up today, I knew something special would happen. There were three crows on the telephone line above the parking lot. All in a row, all facing the same way. That’s a sign, you know. Birds don’t naturally flock that way.”
Suddenly she was an avian expert. “Mmm,” I mumbled. My mom saw signs in everything. Changes in the weather, which direction the wind blew, dogs howling, bells ringing—?you name it. In her reality, coffee grounds on the counter were never just a mess—?they were messages from the beyond. It was just a matter of time until she discovered the face of the Virgin Mary in one of her grilled cheese sandwiches.
“Why in the world didn’t you tell me about this prediction?”
“I don’t know.” I rested my head on the passenger-side window.
“This is serious. It’s not the kind of thing you should keep hidden.” When I didn’t answer, she continued, “You’re always keeping secrets. You know you can tell me anything.”
“I know,” I said.
“And you wonder why I snoop.” She shook her head. “If you just told me what was going on, I wouldn’t be blindsided. Imagine how I felt when I got a call from the police.” Her fingers were tapping out a drum beat on the steering wheel. “We should light a candle when we get home and see if the tarot can tell us anything more.”
“I don’t feel like it.” I slouched further in my seat. When had this become an “us” project?
Mom looked over. “That girl is at risk. I think we have an obligation to do what we can.”
“I can’t do anything,” I said.
“Don’t be silly, Candi. You’ve already done something. Tell you what, I’ll swing through the drive-through at McDonald’s and get us some dinner.” We were crossing from the west side of town, with its Panera and Starbucks, to the east side, which was full of dollar stores and fast food joints.