Glass Eye: Confessions of a Fake Psychic Detective

Chapter 26

"What the hell is going on in here?" Gene says.

Zandra remains splayed across the desk, exhausted. "Real" psychics, also known as "mediums" in this case, claim séances drain their bodies for spiritual reasons. Zandra knows better. Putting on that kind of show, especially with her smoker's heart and lungs, leaves one hell of a mark.

Kendra pops to her feet as Abby rushes past Gene and out the door.

"Gene, I...I...," Kendra says, wiping wet cheeks on her nightgown's sleeve.

"What was she doing to you?" Gene says, wagging an accusing finger at Zandra.

Zandra elbows her frame back upright. "Mr. Carey," she says, her voice weak. "Your wife requested a séance."

"You upset her is what you did," Gene says. "How dare you come in here and harass a mother in her condition."

Kendra places a hand on Gene's arm. "Sweetie, it's not like that. Zandra made contact with the...," she says.

Gene flails Kendra's hand away, then uses his own to crank Zandra up and out of the chair.

"Get. Out," Gene says. His hot breath shoots peppermint up Zandra's nose.

Zandra doesn't bother to resist. Her visit proved plenty fruitful. She collects the candle and shuffles out of the room. The door slams behind her, igniting a piercing argument between Gene and Kendra.

"Was that real?" Abby says. She's perched cross-legged on a plush ottoman outside the stationary room.

"I don't remember a thing. That's how it works. You seem bright. What do you think?" Zandra says and presses a business card into Abby's palm.

"The spirit didn't say if Elle was alive or dead. It just said it didn't know Elle," Abby says. "Kind of a cop out, if you ask me. If you were faking it, you said what I would've said."

A very bright one.

"You come see me at Sneak Peek. I won't charge you for a session. Name your time," Zandra says. She thinks to the frightened way Abby hurried past Gene a moment ago. "That is, if you can call me a cab."

Abby pockets the card. Zandra's intuition tells her they'll meet again.

The cab swings by for Zandra. There's no charge, the cabbie informs her. Gene owns the taxi service. She takes advantage of the free meter with a smoke break before they roll out.

Zandra mulls how she'll reconnect with Seth. She lost her cool with Charlie, so a ride out to the cabin isn't in the cards. That'll blow over in a couple days, though. In the meantime, she'll have to use a cab. The trick will be coming up with an excuse to avoid Seth's suspicions.

Her dilemma seems microscopic compared to the scene back at her apartment. The building is fenced in with yellow police tape. It looks like every law enforcement agency in the state is represented in the parking lot.

Zandra doesn't get more than 10 steps out of the cab when a familiar face approaches.

"Zandra, you're here. Good," Charlie says. She raises two hands in the air in relief.

Zandra hacks into her sleeve. "What's this about?" she says, lit cigarette in hand.

"Thanks for making this as easy as possible. Wouldn't want to put you through the hard way of doing things," Charlie says.

"The hell you talking about?" Zandra says.

Two beefy officers appear at each of her shoulders. They flick the cigarette to the ground and twist Zandra's hands behind her back. She cries out in pain.

"Let's have a talk back at my place," Charlie says as the handcuffs latch over Zandra's wrists.