End of Story(31)

“It’s like there’s all this going on inside me about him and I...anyway. That’s why I’ve been missing all week.”

“An excellent reason.” I grinned. “After we sort this stupid mystery divorce certificate out once and for all, want to go get donuts and watch fish being thrown around?”

“Yes.”

We stepped inside the small shop for Madam Karen. It looked how you’d imagine. Red velvet curtains and a display of tarot cards for sale. Crystals sat on almost every surface. A bored-looking teenager glanced up at us from behind the counter before shouting, “Mom, your next clients are here.”

I raised my chin. “How did you know that without asking? Are you psychic too?”

The girl just rolled her eyes.

Fair enough.

“You must be Lillian’s friends,” said an older woman with a neat black bob. A variety of colorful stone necklaces hung from her neck. “I’m Karen. Come on through.”

A small table and chairs sat behind the curtain and we all took a seat in the dimly lit room. The walls were painted dark red and it was very atmospheric. On a shelf in the corner sat a crystal ball and a variety of spiritual books. Thank goodness I’d worn a black maxi slip dress and flat sandals. It was a warm day and the AC was not up to the challenge. Cleo took a sip from her water bottle and fanned herself with her hand.

I retrieved the divorce certificate from the plastic bag in my purse and set it on the table. “Miss Lillian said you specialize in psychometry and might be able to shed a little light on this. It was—”

“Don’t tell me any more,” said Karen.

I shut my mouth and exchanged a look with Cleo. Neither of us knew what to expect. Not really. But everything about the document made me nervous. Psychometry was the reading of vibrations or impressions attached to an object. Assessing the energy field via extrasensory perception. Google told me that. And if there’s one thing you can always rely on, it’s the internet talking about spiritual matters. Since the forensic document examiner had been a bust, it was time to look further afield. And Miss Lillian thought this might be helpful since she wasn’t a specialist in the field.

Karen caressed the edges of the document before sliding her fingers over the surface. All the while, her face was a study in concentration. Then she closed her eyes and exhaled. Took another deep breath in and exhaled again. “I’m grounding my energy and setting safeguards around us,” she explained. “Now I’m opening my mind to the object. There’s some very feminine energy attached to this.”

“I keep it either on me or in my underwear drawer. I figured that was safest. It’s where I put my... Anyway.”

Karen opened one eye and gave me a look.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

“There’s a lot of confusion in the recent contact. The people who have touched it lately have a lot of questions, but no answers.” The psychic frowned. “Let’s see if we can go back further. It was lost and forgotten for a long time.”

Cleo watched the woman with a blank face. I tried to do the same, but my foot wouldn’t stop tapping. Anxiety was a bitch.

“There’s so much sadness.” Karen placed her palms flat on the paper. “She feels great anguish about this fate. She’s frustrated and profoundly disappointed that mistakes were made on both their parts.”

“Wait. I did something wrong?” I asked, surprised. “I really thought it would have been him.”

Cleo shushed me and I slapped a hand over my mouth.

“It takes two to tango,” said Karen, with the one eye on me again. “The pain attached to this document is so great it echoes.”

“It echoes?”

“So loudly it reached you a decade earlier.”

“Huh.”

“That’s everything I can tell you,” Karen said. “Readings tend to go better with less interruptions. They muddy the psychic waters, so to speak.”

I removed the hand. “That’s it? Can I ask something?”

She nodded, both eyes open now.

“How did the divorce certificate get in the wall?”

“Nothing came through about that.”

“Damn. The mystery remains unresolved.”

“Have your questions been answered?” asked Karen.

“Not so much,” said Cleo drily. “Is there any way you can give her something more?”

“Sure.” Karen picked up a pack of tarot cards and set them in front of me. “Shuffle these, please. And think about what you want to know.”

I put away the divorce certificate then did as told. The cards were soft around the edges from use and age. They were also a little large for my hands and awkward to shuffle.

As agreed, Lars and I hadn’t talked this week. Neither by text, phone, nor face-to-face. The man detox had been interesting. What Karen had said so far definitely reinforced my reasons for not wanting to date. Especially not Lars. Why would anyone want to deal with this shit? Emotions were messy and males were the worst. But I missed him more than I liked to admit. Which sucked. It had been a lonely week with no Lars and Cleo busy with Tore. While I knew a lot of people, I only had a couple of close friends. Though I got ahead on my work, spent quality time with the cat, and sorted some boxes.

I handed the cards back. “There you go.”