Fear Thy Neighbor (20)
“It’s what I’ve been looking for,” Alison told her, “but I need to think about this a little longer. Can you hold off on any other offers?”
“No, I can’t, but I’m fairly sure your offer will be the only one today.”
“Good enough,” Alison said. “What time does your office close?”
“We’re open until six on weekends, but you can call my cell number if it’s later.” She reached in her designer handbag to retrieve a business card. “Though being Saturday, I won’t be able to actually sell you the house. Well, at least as far as the banking end of things go.”
“I appreciate you showing me the place. I’ll get back to you one way or another.” Alison was confident in her decision, but she wasn’t going to jump the gun.
As soon as Kimberly left, Alison lingered behind for a few minutes, as she didn’t want her nosy ass to see where she was going. Five minutes later, she was on Dolphin Drive, headed to the souvenir store. Two cars were in the lot. She parked as far away from the door as she could. She backed into a space so she could pull onto the road quickly. If she were to encounter John Wilson again after she finished her business, she wanted to put as much distance between them as possible.
She wished she’d asked Renée for her mother’s name, then decided it didn’t matter. For now, she’d simply browse the store; then she’d decide if she dared to ask for a reading. Inside the Souvenir Store, which was actually the name of the place, she was greeted by cool air and the scent of gardenia, one she recognized, as it was her favorite flower. Soft music played in the background, which sounded Celtic. Calming, she thought, as she stood beside a display of postcards. She removed a few from the rack because she liked the pictures. Plus, they were only a quarter each. Across from the postcards was a display of mirrors with a variety of seashells glued onto the frames. Not her style, but to each his own. There were ashtrays in the shape of alligators and miniature orange crates with orange gumballs inside, which mimicked an orange, just downsized. Different sizes of starfish filled a wicker basket. A handwritten sign said they were fifty cents each. Couldn’t you find these for free on the beach? She knew these gimmicky items screamed “buy me” to tourists. Alison had seen many such items in the shops in Tampa Bay.
She lingered over the rack of T-shirts, searching for one she liked. If she was going to make this place her forever home, then she’d need a T-shirt. She found a gray shirt with a palm tree on the upper left pocket that read PALMETTO ISLAND, the letters in dark green. Basic, she thought as she took the shirt off the hanger. Seeing no one else in the store, Alison figured the two cars she saw belonged to whoever was having a reading. It would be easy to walk out the door without paying for her merchandise. Maybe this so-called psychic knew when someone was about to rip her off. Not that she had any intention of doing so. She wanted to make a purchase; then she’d decide on a reading. Her gut had always been reliable, yet it couldn’t hurt to see if this psychic picked up on her decision.
A bell chimed, and Alison looked up to see a stunning woman emerge from a room in the back of the store. This must be Renée’s mother.
“Hello, I’m Valentina Dubois. You must be new to the area.”
Alison gasped, then took a deep breath before she spoke. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve never seen you before, plus you’ve got a handful of postcards. The locals usually don’t come in for postcards.” She smiled, her words teasing, but in no way were they condescending.
“True. I’m not from Florida.”
“But you’ve lived in Florida for a while,” the woman, Valentina, said with confidence.
“I met your daughter at the beach earlier today. She told me about you,” Alison said, adding, “Said you could read cards, minds, or both, something to that effect.”
Valentina laughed out loud. “That girl amazes me. In one breath she tells me she’s embarrassed by my ability, then in the second breath, she’s telling anyone who’ll listen that her mother has a gift.”
“Do you?” Alison blurted out. “I’m sorry, but I am curious.”
“Would you like a reading? Maybe the Tarot cards?”
Now that Alison was here, and the opportunity was presented to her, she wasn’t sure. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
“You’re a skeptic,” Valentina said. “Most people are. It’s not unusual to be a little nervous if you’ve never had a reading before. So, what do you say? It’s on the house, but just this once.” She winked at her.
Alison placed her shirt and postcards on the counter. Doubtful, but since she was offering a free reading, why not? “I’ll give it a try.”
“Fantastic! Now, do you want my special gift, or would you rather go with a Tarot reading?”
“Your gift,” she said. She wanted to see what this woman did, how she managed to convince people she was psychic or gifted.
“I thought so,” she said. “Leave your things here—I need to lock the door and put my OUT TO LUNCH sign on the door. Be right back.” She reached under the counter for her sign, walked around the lengthy counter to the door. She hung the sign up, then said, “I know I’m not what you expected.”
Ten points for that, Alison thought. The second she’d stepped away from the counter, she thought Valentina looked like a young girl. She wore a pair of white Bermuda shorts and a bright yellow blouse with matching sandals. Her hair was the same color as her daughter’s, her smile just as bright.