CHAPTER 19
720 Words
CHAPTER 19With a shaking hand, Mara lifted the paper cup to her lips, and she grimaced. The hot chocolate was ice-cold. The entire square was beginning to feel ice-cold. She glanced around and noticed that the surrounding buildings cast long shadows over the square, and the temperature was too uncomfortable to be sitting on bricks. Standing, she decided it was time to get away from all of this soul-reading nonsense. It appeared that others were coming to the same conclusion, at least about the cool fall weather.
Melanie had quickly shaken off the effects of Mara’s reading and walked over to where her husband talked to the last of the gathering. She was trying to get him to wrap things up.
Bohannon hobbled up to Mara and said, “That was quite the show she put on there. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“I think so.” Mara glared at Ping as he walked up to them. “No thanks to Ping’s bright idea. It felt enlightening, like my perspective had been expanded.”
“I didn’t say it was particularly pleasant,” he said, reaching up to Mara’s forehead and brushing away a strand of hair. “But you have to admit Melanie definitely gave you something to think about.”
“I did not find the experience ‘enlightening’ in the least. As a matter of fact, it completely creeped me out. What’s enlightening about being told I’m stalked by an adversary in the voice of a child. It’s like something out of a Chucky, the slasher doll, movie.”
“Well, I think it’s better to be forewarned than to be surprised,” Ping said.
“You’re assuming Melanie actually has an ability. Maybe she’s delusional.”
“I think you mentioned something about hearing a child’s voice saying those exact words before. That might be an indicator of the veracity of Melanie’s talents. Plus my own experience persuades me that she is genuine.”
Bohannon leaned in. “You heard that voice before?”
Mara ignored the question and continued glaring at Ping. “Well, there is that. But what about all that other stuff? Do you think any of that is true, or maybe she made it up?”
“If I understand what is going on when Melanie does a reading, I think she’s reflecting what’s in our subconscious, those parts of us that we have not come to grips with—our doubts, our fears, those things we’re not even aware that we are pondering.”
“I’m sorry, but where did you hear that voice before?” Bohannon asked.
Mara turned to him and said, “I heard it come out of a radio at the shop.”
“Oh, well, that could be a coincidence, don’t you think?”
Mara half-frowned and said, “Given all that we’ve seen in the past couple months, how much credence are you putting in coincidences these days?”
Bohannon shrugged. “Sorry I asked. I think I’ve gotten all the information I can from this particular outing. I’m going to head out. You guys have a good evening.” He tipped his head in a little salute and turned to walk back toward Yamhill Street.
Mara raised an arm after him, pointed to the ground with her other arm and yelled, “Hey, you forgot your crutches.”
The detective pivoted and retrieved them. “Guess I got something more than information from this experience, didn’t I?” He continued on his way.
Ping watched him walk across the square for a few minutes, waiting for Mara to say something. When she failed to continue the conversation, he turned toward her.
With a look of concern, she stared at the small group of people gathered around Denton Proctor.
“What is it?” Ping said.
Mara tilted her head forward, indicating a blonde head bobbing out of sight, making an effort to stay behind the thinning crowd. “Why would Abby be hanging out over there, trying to hide behind those people?”
“I’m not sure. Did you mention to her that we would be coming down here this afternoon?”
“No, why would I?”
“Maybe it is a coincidence. Does she have a condition that Mr. Proctor can help her with?”
“I don’t think even the talented Mr. Proctor can cure terminal nosiness.”
“You don’t think she followed us down here, do you?”
“I’m not sure. She showed up at the shop yesterday, and that was kind of odd. I figured she was angling to get Bruce to notice her, but maybe there’s something else on her mind.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Sam’s sudden appearance and weirdness probably caught her eye, and now she’s curious about what’s going on. She’s like a bloodhound. Once she catches a scent of something interesting, she won’t let it go until you spill every detail.”
“Sounds like she should consider a career in journalism.”
“You might be right, but this is one scoop she’s not going to get.”
“Maybe you should have a talk with her.”
“Oh, I plan on it, but I’m not sure how much good it will do.”
- Writer
