CHAPTER FIVE

Angel, Gabriel, and Noah walked across Jackson Square to the table where the woman was seated. She had her leg propped up on a small folding stool, her bicycle and carrier behind her. She wore a hard boot cast on her lower leg, the scrapes and bruises along her arms and face still visible. In spite of the broken leg, she'd been able to push the pedals with her boot, still making it to her usual spot. There was an umbrella covering the table, offering her and her clients shade.

Of course, at the moment, she had no clients at all. Not even someone who was mildly interested.

"Hello, Ms. Serena Goodling?" asked Angel.

"That's me. Look, if you're cops, I've already given my statement on what happened to that poor woman."

"We're not cops," said Gabriel. "We're investigators. Since you don't have anyone here right now, how about you give us a few minutes."

"Time is money, gentlemen. If you want to sit in the chair, you'll need to pay for a thirty-minute session." Angel looked at her fee board and tossed a fifty on the table. It was Noah who took the seat across from her, just staring, to make her uncomfortable.

At first, she just stared back at him as if unsure what to do. Then she touched the top of his hand and pulled back as if scalded by the touch. Noah said nothing, simply staring at the woman.

"Wh-what are you?" she asked. He tilted his head.

"Shouldn't you know what I am?"

"I'm a psychic. I see what could happen in someone's future, not other stuff," she exclaimed.

"Fine. What's my future?" he asked.

"Long. Abnormally, inhumanly long. What are you?" she asked again.

"Just a man," said Noah. "What happened with Gladys?" She hesitated a few moments, staring at the men, looking from one to the other and then back to Noah.

"It's exactly what I told the police. She sat down, and I began like I did with you, touching her hands. She was nervous, but everyone is on their first time to a psychic. I'm not a fake, and I don't scam people." She turned and stared at Angel who was having those exact thoughts in that moment. Gabe just ignored her comment.

"Why?" asked Gabe. "Why touch her hands?"

"Everyone has an energy, an aura about them. Touching their hands tells me a lot. Are they nervous, are they skeptics, or are they," she swallowed, staring at the big man across from her, "something else."

"Okay, so you touched her hands. Then what?"

"I put out five cards, just like always. The first one told me that she would have good fortune in her life. She wasn't going to be rich or win the lottery, but she wouldn't want for anything. That's always important for someone older. They all come in fearful that they won't have enough money to live out a good life. The next card said that she would have another love in her life soon. Then there was a card that indicated she had a lot of pain in her life."

"Pain? Like emotional?" asked Angel.

"No. No, I could feel some of that, but this was physical pain. I was seeing her bones, so I asked if it was arthritis."

"Well, that's a stretch for an eighty-year-old woman. Almost anyone that age has arthritis," chuffed Gabe.

"Listen, you have the right to ask me all the questions you want, but you don't have the right to make disparaging remarks about my occupation. I'm not making fun of the fact that you were in the Army."

The three men froze, staring at one another and then back at the woman.

"How did you know that?" asked Gabe. "You'd better think carefully on what you say."

"I knew it because it's what I do. The woman had arthritis, and yes, many elderly people have it. But she was in considerable pain in her spine because of it."

"Alright. My apologies," said Gabe. "Please go on." Now, he was eyeing the woman with a great deal of suspicion, and intrigue. He tried to remember if he was showing his tattoos at all, but he knew he wasn't.

"The last card told me that death was close. It was as if a freight train were coming straight for me. I almost couldn't breathe. She asked me how close, and all I could think to say was ‘now.' The next thing I knew, I was in the hospital."

"Did you see the driver?" asked Noah.

"No. It was dark, and the car was dark as well. But I don't think it was unintentional. You have to know what you're doing and where you're going to hit someone along here," she said, waving her arms along the iron fence. "Whoever it was knew how to go around the barriers and the other artists and vendors here. A few years ago, six people were killed by a drunk driver. Since that time, they put up the barriers around the Square."

"Had you ever met the woman before?" asked Gabe.

"Never. She made an appointment with me, but I was crazy busy that day. When she came by, almost everyone had left, and she calmly waited until she could speak with me. I finished up with someone else and then she sat right where he is now." She pointed to Noah, who gave no indication that he'd even heard her.

"Have you ever done a reading for a man named Al or Mike?"

"I do a lot of readings. I don't ask for people's names unless they're booking the appointment online. Al and Mike are pretty common names. Most would only give me a fake name anyway. They're worried about how this might look to their friends or family."

"Listen, Serena," started Angel, "the woman you read was from a senior community called Maison Soleil. Her friend believes she was intentionally killed. These two men are former police officers, and we think they had something to do with all of this."

She shook her head, already beginning to pack up her table.

"Wait a minute. Where are you going? Did we say something?" asked Gabe.

"You said they were two cops. Al and Mike?"

"That's right. So, you do know them," said Gabe.

"Not in the way you think," she said, shaking her head. "I lived in New York City a long time ago with an ex-boyfriend. He made fun of my abilities as well." Gabe felt the knife stab and winced.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to doubt you, but you have to understand how unbelievable this might look."

"Unbelievable as it may look, this is my life. This is my curse," she said, shaking her head. "Anyway. I left and started traveling around, making a few bucks here and there. When I arrived in Atlanta, I thought I'd found a home. A place where I could make a difference."

"What happened?" asked Noah.

"One night, this young man, probably nineteen or twenty, comes to see me. I don't get a lot of men, especially young men. He says that his older brother was murdered, and he was trying to find out who did it. He had a few items that were on his brother when he died. All I could see was glimmering metal."

"Like a car? Headlights?" asked Angel.

"No. Like the light shining off of a badge." The three men stared at the woman, shaking their heads. "I asked him if his brother had been in trouble with the law, and he said no, never. But I kept seeing that damn badge. The more we spoke, the more I touched his brother's things, the worse it got. Finally, I knew. His brother had been murdered by a cop."

"Did you go to the police with the information?" asked Gabe.

"Nope. They came to me," she said, shaking her head. "The brother immediately left me and went to the station to file a complaint. His brother had been working at a local restaurant that was frequented by cops. I guess he took out the trash at the back of the restaurant, and that was where they found him dead. The video shows him going out there but didn't show anyone else. Then, about ten minutes later, you see his feet behind a dumpster, and two off-duty cops are standing nearby."

"Sounds like they doctored the tapes," said Gabe.

"That's what I felt. But feelings, visions, or even best guesses don't make the police listen. I read in the paper that the two cops who say they ‘found him' were named Al something and Mike something. A few days later, I get a visit from two uniforms telling me to stop spreading lies and it would be in my best interests to move on."

"Have you seen either man since coming to New Orleans?" asked Noah.

"No. And I don't want to. If they're here, I'm leaving the city."

"You don't own a car," said Angel. She stared at him, cocking her head.

"Now, who's psychic?"

"It's what we do. Listen, we'll get you home, but I do think you need to take a vacation for a while. Is there somewhere you can go?"

"Yes, I can go see my friend in Houston for a while. Maybe do some work there. She's in a similar line of work so we understand one another well. I'll need to get a bus ticket or a cheap flight, but I can leave tonight." Gabe nodded at her.

"Okay. All seriousness, how did you know I was in the Army?"

"Whether you want to believe me or not, there are overwhelming feelings that I get from people. Sometimes, I have to touch them. Sometimes, I have to just be near them. You three are part of the latter group. You were Army, tall blonde and pretty was Navy, and this huge Viking was something else. Still military, but I don't know what to call it.

"But I also know this. You're all good men and meant me no harm. It's why I didn't run. I knew you were honest. I can feel things. I can see things. I can't speak to the dead like you can," she said, smirking at Noah. He raised a brow, and she just laughed at him.

"You may have just convinced me," said Angel.

"I don't try to convince anyone," she said calmly. "My goal is to just give people something that will make them feel better or give them hope. I don't lie. Not ever. Sometimes, there's nothing good in their lives. I can feel the cancer, see it. Or I know that death is close for them. I see their spouse cheating. It really sucks!"

"How did you discover this gift?" asked Noah.

"I was in high school and had a horrible crush on the track coach. He was so good-looking," she smiled. "He knew it, too. One day, he asked if I would stay after track practice and help him with the equipment. Pfft! It was his equipment he wanted help with. I was young, stupid, and flattered. But the minute he put his hands on me, I saw it all. He'd raped dozens of young girls, even killing two. I couldn't prove it. No one would believe me, but I knew what I saw.

"After that, it only got stronger. I lost my boyfriend because I could see him cheating on me. I lost my parents because they thought I was losing my mind and needed psychiatric help. I lost most of my friends, who just thought I was nuts. They all think I'm a scam artist. What you see here are my fees. No more, no less. I don't inherit anything. I don't ask for anything. I live very conservatively."

Noah stood to his full height, and she swallowed, following his face upward. She heard the cracking of his knees as he stood from what seemed like a miniscule chair.

"She's telling the truth," he said to his friends. "Go to Houston and stay out of sight for a while. Come on. We'll get you home."

The three men followed her home, ensuring that she was okay. She bought a ticket to Houston, called a taxi, and they watched as she made her way to the airport. After returning to Belle Fleur, Code assured them she'd gotten on the plane and was out of the city.

"Great. Now, we have to find those cops."