Chapter FifteenTAMARA THE PSYCHIC
“Are you home, Tamara?” Lori knocked. “I have a little gift for you,” she said, and jangled the pewter keychain in her hand. “It's from Drake. He sends his love.”
“Yes, I'm here,” Madam Tamara replied. “Of course, you've come to the one woman who must believe in ghosts.”
“I noticed the neon sign was on.”
The psychic's sign flashed purple and smoky. The woman hung her calling card on the lower part of the window listing her fees and guaranteed results.
“Do you have an article of his clothing, dear?” the psychic said, as Lori settled herself in front of the cups of tea and the crystals.
“Yes, of course. And a strand of his hair.”
“What is my Queen Lori thinking about today?” Tamara fanned the cards and laid them out in rows. She frowned.
“I came here
