Eye of the Falcon (Psychic Visions #12)(104)

She’d been here for over a year now. The trouble was, before this job, she had had a similar one at another amusement park in another place. Before that was another amusement park in yet another place. She was footloose, yet a long way from being fancy-free. Life sucked. But it didn’t matter because it was all for the right reason. She leaned across the table and opened the curtains that separated her from her customers. Close to six feet from the door, the line had formed, curling to the left. She smiled at the teenage girl standing in front and motioned for her to come forward.

The teen handed over her five-dollar bill. Queenie accepted it with a smile and asked, “What question can I answer for you today?”

“Will I get asked to prom this year?” She squealed out the question in a breathless voice.

Queenie chuckled inside. “Is there someone in your life already?”

The young woman shook her head. “Not yet. But I’m really hoping you say there will be soon.”

“Let’s find out.” Queenie held out her left hand and said, “Place your hand in mine.”

And then she waved her right hand around the glass ball. As soon as the young woman’s hand connected with Queenie’s, she smiled. Was there anything fresher than young love? She studied the ball, using it to formulate a story to tell the young woman. The ball was a prop for the people. She could see everything through her eyes right now. She said, “Somebody named Jake, by any chance?”

The young woman cried out again, as she gripped Queenie’s hand like a lifeline and did a half jump in joy. “Yes, that’s him.”

“Well then, you needn’t worry,” Queenie said gently, happy she could hand out the good news. “Because he’s going to ask you to the prom.”

The young woman dropped her hand and squealed again, jumped up and down, and then dashed out of the tent. Queenie smiled and dropped the money into the jar beside her.

“Next,” she called out.

A man in a business suit walked in, carrying a briefcase.

She studied him and found nothing unnerving about him, but something was off. … He appeared to be calm, maybe too calm. He sat down in front of her and said in a quiet voice, “I’m about to lose everything. Is there anything I can do to help myself?”

Now that was interesting. Rarely did people come with a question of what they could do to turn something around.

He handed over his money and said, “I know this is all fake but you have a certain reputation. … I could really use some advice. A direction to look at? … Something? Preferably good news,” he said heavily. “I could really use a shot of good news right now.”

Interested in spite of herself, Queenie held out her hand and said, “Place your hand in mine.”

As soon as he did, tingles went up and down her back. Now she was very interested. Normally she was good at guessing the core character of a person. And nothing about him sent off her inner alarms. She waved her hand over the ball, as she tried to sort out the images coming through her. But all she could see were metal bars. And then she realized why he had lost his job. She glanced up at him and said, “Are you trying to find work?”

He shook his head sadly. “No. I thought everything was going great … but then …” His voice trailed away.

“But then?”

“Somebody blamed me for something.” Pain and discouragement were in his voice.

She studied the bars in the ball and realized they were a jail cell. He was in grave danger of going to jail for the rest of his life. She frowned and looked at him. “Do you know somebody named Mike? Mike Marrow or Munro?” She frowned, trying to get the name clearer in her head.

He leaned forward. “Mike Munro, yes, he’s my best friend.”

She looked at him sadly. “He’s not your best friend. He’s the one who framed you. He’s the one who’s guilty.”

The man stared at her in horror. He got to his feet and bolted from the tent.

She dropped his money into the jar. Next thing she knew, three little kids stood before her. They were laughing and giggling. One held up a five-dollar bill and placed it on the table. She could see the mom standing in the back. She smiled down at the kids and said, “What would you like to know?”

“What am I going to be when I grow up?”

She held her hand out to the first boy who wore a plaid shirt and cowboy boots.

He placed his hand in hers.

Instantly the answer flooded her mind. She chuckled. “You’ll be a fireman.”

He gasped and raced toward his mother. “Mommy, Mommy. She said I’m going to be a fireman.”

Queenie smiled at the kid’s excitement as a little girl stuck out her hand. “What about me?”

“You will work with animals, little one,” she said softly, after seeing images of this girl as an adult caring for dogs and cats. “I don’t know if it’ll be as a vet or something else. But your path lies with animals.”

The little girl dropped her hand, stepped away, and waited for the third child, a little boy, to step forward. He held out his hand and said, “What about me?”

But his voice was defiant, almost angry, as if he’d wanted to be the fireman, and he didn’t like that his friend had that role. As soon as his hand touched hers, a shock coursed through her system. And then a strange cone appeared over his head. She swallowed hard at that sign and said instead, “Wow, you’re really hard to read. I’m not sure I see anything.”