Bowers insisted that a patrol officer drive my car home, and he drove me back to Arrowhead Drive. Auntie remained behind to comfort Bull, while Tim got busy looking for a criminal attorney. The ride was uncomfortable and silent, and when the car pulled up in front of my house, I reached for the door.
Bowers took my arm in a firm grip. “Not so fast.”
“It wasn’t my fault. I just went there to read Petey.”
He blew out a sharp breath. “Petey, as in dead Petey?” He let go of my arm.
“Which was crossing a line, I know, but too many people had already died. What were you doing there?” I asked.
“I was waiting to arrest Catherine Jenkins, because I didn’t want to crash the mayor’s party.”
“You knew she was the killer?” I stared. “I don’t believe you.”
“That’s what the police force does. Solve crimes. What we don’t like to do is waste time saving people who get in our way.”
“Sorry to be such a problem.”
“That didn’t come out right.” He slammed his palms against the steering wheel. “Why are you such a pain in my side?”
“If you hadn’t been interested in Auntie as your favorite suspect, I wouldn’t have felt the need to be a pain in your side.”
“My investigation was none of your business. It’s not as if you’d been hired as a consultant to the department. You and your aunt are just two people who capitalize on people’s fixation with the occult.”
“Ah. So that’s what I am. An opportunistic con artist. Glad we got that cleared up.”
Bowers slammed the palm of one hand on the steering wheel again. “Just because I care about you doesn’t mean you get special consideration. And yes. You are opportunistic. When people have problems, instead of directing them to a priest or a psychiatrist, or even a priest psychiatrist, you take advantage and mess around with things you have no business going near.”
He put a hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him. “Frankie, I’m out there every day looking at the worst of human nature. Evil is real, and it doesn’t need you skipping around offering it free fries with every order for a reading. It doesn’t need another way in.”
“What do you mean a way in?”
He cleared his throat a couple of times. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”
He reached for my hand and seemed to think better of it. “I saw it.” He dropped his head in his hands. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this, and if you repeat it, I’ll deny it, but I saw the…it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Right before you flipped back in your chair at the séance, there was this horrible image of your cat.”
I sucked in my breath. “You saw what I saw?”
“It was as if it was your cat, but it wasn’t your cat. I’ve never seen Emily look so ferocious.”
“How?” I whispered.
“I wish I knew, because it’s something I never, ever want to experience again.”
He shifted his position to lean against the car door, which was as far away from me as he could get and still remain in the front seat. I could tell he blamed me, as if I were some harpy running around and intentionally handing out bad dreams to the kiddies.
“I don’t know how it happened.”
“The bird said—it’s just too stupid to repeat, but I’m sure it said—meow.”
I nodded. “Three times.”
“The Kit Cat Club?” he asked, a dazed expression on his face.
“Yep. And you got that right away, so you can see it would have been better if we had worked together on this.”
“You’re not suggesting that I ask the neighborhood cat for the name of the culprit the next time I’m investigating a murder.” His eyes popped open. “You’re not, are you?”
“It’s not that simple. What do you think? That animals talk to me in complex sentences? That they draw me pictures and explained things in clear terms?”
The tears were getting ready to flow, but I scrunched up my eyes to force them back. I was not going to have a pity sob in front of Bowers. A deep breath helped steady my voice.
“When animals decide to invade my personal space, they throw me images, energy signatures, feelings. They don’t talk. Except Petey did know a few words. Mostly meow. On the night of the séance, you saw exactly what I usually get. That image of Emily was a typical message, and they usually come uninvited.” I threw my hands up. “Why do you think I stopped doing the pet psychic readings?”
He rubbed his face with his hands, as if he were trying to wipe the image away.
“Wow. I had no idea.”
“Now you do.”
He stared ahead of him, his fingers tapping the dashboard in a nervous rhythm.
“That’s awful. I mean really, really awful.”
“Tell me about it.” I sighed, relieved that someone finally understood that a psychic connection with animals wasn’t a fun thing to experience.
“And weird.”
“Oka-a-y. I’m not sure I like being described as weird.”
He turned to face me. “What does Auntie think?”
That made me laugh. “Let’s get something clear. Not one member of my family knows. They think I dabble in theatrics like my aunt, and it’s going to stay that way.” I shook my finger at him. “So, if you ever feel the need to call my mother, which was a pretty low thing to do without telling me first, don’t even think about mentioning it.”
“Mention it?” Bowers said. “I’m going to pretend this never happened.” He nodded his head several times. “I warned you about dabbling in this crap.”
“Maybe you didn’t hear me, but I don’t dabble. I don’t seem to have any control over it. It’s like they take possession of my mind at will. I’ve even been visited by a dead dog.”
He cleared his throat. “Maybe you should see a priest. They seem to know a lot about spirits and possessions and, well, stuff.”
“I already did,” I snapped. “But not because there’s anything wrong with me. I just kind of ran into him.”
Bowers took my hand. “And?”
“I’m not possessed, if that’s what you’re wondering. My head doesn’t spin around, and I don’t levitate, and I haven’t vomited green since I overdosed on Halloween candy when I was eight.”
“That’s good.” He waited. “Did he have any insights?”
“I learned it’s a no-no to sacrifice my children to strange gods.”
“You have children?”
“No, but it’s a good point to remember if I ever do.”
“I meant did he have any advice.”
“He seemed more concerned about Auntie’s tarot card business.”
“We’re going to have to work on that,” he said, nodding again.
“We?”
Bowers leaned forward and clutched my hand in both of his. “Frankie, I really care about you, and I’d like to see more of you.”
I felt a flutter in my chest. “You do?” I thought back to his kiss and decided I’d like it, too.
“I’m just—well, I don’t want to worry that you’re in my head.”
I looked at his hands, holding mine, and an idea occurred to me. “Bowers, do you remember the first time—IT—happened last month? When I was trying to communicate with Sandy and get him to release the lock on the door and I sort of wound up reading your thoughts?”
“How could I forget?”
“We were holding hands. Just like we were holding hands the night of the séance.”
He didn’t just let go of my hand. He threw it away from him as if it were a bomb set to go off any moment.
I grabbed my purse from the car floor. “Well. I guess that’s that.”
“I—” He stared out his window. “You can’t expect me to date a woman I can’t even touch. I’m not a lecher, but that’s asking too much.”
I softened my voice. “Bowers, I don’t understand what’s happening, but I’m sure we could work it out. Just don’t ever touch my hands.” I added a weak grin, but my chest tightened because I guessed his answer.
He cleared his throat, but his voice still cracked when he said, “I don’t think I can do it.”
I gave a short nod, said goodnight, and saw myself to my front door. By the time Auntie came home, I’d already made up the couch, and I pretended to be asleep. She whispered my name a few times, gave up, and crept into my room. I didn’t want her to see I’d been crying.
* * *
“You’re sure you’ve got everything? You don’t want something else to read or a snack for the plane?”
Terminal Four of the Sky Harbor Airport bustled with travelers setting off on adventures, returning from business trips, or in Auntie’s case, heading home. I had a strange reluctance to let Auntie pass through security and out of my life. Well, not out of my life. Just out of the vicinity. It wasn’t as if I’d enjoyed having a roommate, but what can I say? She smelled of home.
“If I have another coffee, I’ll have to tinkle before I get to Wisconsin, and I read about some woman whose insides were sucked out by the airplane toilet. No thank you.”
“Good to know.”
She reached for her carry on. I hung it over her shoulder and kissed her cheek.
“No regrets about your visit?”
“I had a wonderful time, Sissy. I could have done without the murder, but we don’t get to choose what life throws at us.”
“Um, when you get home…”
“Not a word to your mother. I figured that one out myself.”
“And you’re not sorry to leave Bull?”
“Heavens, no! I’d forgotten how bossy he was. Besides. Once he has time to get over Elvira, I wouldn’t be surprised if he gave Sharlene a call. Widowers don’t live long unless they find another wife. That’s what statistics show. And it would be nice if those two got together.”
That was a relief. I might be missing Auntie now, but if she took up permanent residence in Arizona… I shuddered.
“The air conditioning is a little cold in here. You should get back out in the sun. I’ve got my book, so don’t worry about me.”
Before she left, I wanted the answer to a question that had nagged at my brain over the last week. “What’s the deal with Sharlene? You kept hinting there was something wrong with her?”
“Nothing but loneliness. Promise me you’ll drop in on her once in a while.”
I agreed, and then I hugged her tight and didn’t let go until she pulled away. We both had tears in our eyes. I stood, watching, as she placed her bags on the conveyor belt and took off her sandals. She gave me a final wave after she passed through security, and I stared down that hallway long after she’d disappeared.
“You look a little lost.”
An elderly man, one of the Navigator volunteers, gave me a kind smile and offered to assist me.
“I’m feeling a little lost right now.”
“Where are you headed?” he asked.
Where was I headed? Good question. The pet communication lines were back open, but I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. With Penny set to walk down the aisle, I saw the end of my social life. Seamus had abandoned any thoughts of romance with me for a new love, but that didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. Bowers was another matter, but I couldn’t do anything about the fact that he had dumped me before we started dating.
On the flip side, I could take a few pet psychic appointments, see how it worked out, and maybe increase my bank balance. It wasn’t as if Penny were dead. Or Seamus. Or even Bowers. And I still had Chauncey and Emily.
“Time will tell.” I reassured him with a smile.
“You’re in the airport but you don’t know where you’re going?” He looked over his shoulder at the Navigator counter, probably hoping for backup in case I started to drool or demand that he bow to the queen of Mars.
“‘It’s alright. I’m alright.” I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
“I’ll be fine.”
And I almost meant it.
* * *
Want to keep reading? Tap here for the next Frankie Chandler adventure, An Almost Purrfect Murder. Keep reading for a preview of the first chapter, book club questions, and more.
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It's Independence Day, and fireworks aren't the only thing rocking Frankie's world. When a notorious criminal kidnaps her, intent on getting his pet tiger to reveal the identity of a traitor, Frankie fears her reward for finishing the job may be stamped Final Payment.
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