Murder With a Psychic Zap (A Wonder Springs Cozy Mystery Book 2) by B.T. Alive & Bill Alive

Author:B.T. Alive & Bill Alive [Alive, B.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, psychic mysteries, cozy animal mystery, women sleuths, humor, comedy, new adult, cozy mystery, amateur sleuths, Small Town, mountain, series
Publisher: Villette Press
Published: 2019-10-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

I’m sure all grandmothers get vague premonitions of doom. But when your particular grandmother can also reliably predict a stock market crash, you feel a certain incentive to probe for more details.

So I was just about to interrogate Grandma regarding that last zinger, when I happened to note the time on her grandfather clock.

“Oh, crud!” I said. “Is that four-eighteen? I was supposed to meet Elaine at four! Crud.”

“Oh, dear,” Grandma said. “Elaine is exceedingly punctual.”

Grandma was right.

“I was beginning to worry,” Elaine said, as she fussed with a display of essential oils. “I’m just glad you’re all right. I still need to get your phone number.”

I was panting from my sprint down here to Elaine’s Essentials, so I tried just breathing hard and hoping she’d keep talking.

“What is your phone number?” Elaine said.

“I really work best face-to-face,” I said. “How about a sales lesson? You ready to go? Are you excited? I’m excited!” I got halfway into an ill-advised fist pump, but Elaine’s stare was so blank that I pretended I meant to fluff my hair.

I wondered if I should just zap her and start over.

Then the front door opened, tinkling a tiny sleigh bell that was handmade by some Swiss artisan and cost at least six hundred dollars. “A customer!” I cried, with perhaps unseemly enthusiasm, and I gratefully turned to greet…

Paris Stirling.

Like her niece Jamie, Paris had shed her mourning garb, but her new outfit was at least muted. Her eyes were glittering, though, as she clacked out a hand basket from the top of the stack and lunged for a display of artisanal hoop earrings.

Elaine leaned toward me and stage-whispered, “Should we sell her something?” in a sotto voce that resounded through the store.

I tried to shush her, but Paris had startled and snapped us a look. She squinted at me, then widened her eyes in recognition.

“Hi! I’m Summer,” I said. “I saw you at the will reading, but I don’t think we’ve actually met. I’m so sorry for your… loss.” Against my better judgment, I flicked a glance at her basket, which was already packed six inches deep with a bedding of gold and silver hoops. I did a quick mental calculation of the cost, and my legs felt a bit weak.

Elaine leaned closer, so close her breathy whisper tickled my ear. “Can you upsell her a couch? I’ve got one in the back made of imitation zebra.”

“This is a very hard time for me,” Paris said, shielding the basket a bit behind her leg. “I’m really still in shock.”

“Oh, Summer did the same thing,” Elaine piped up. “It took me an hour to put everything back.”

“Absolutely,” I said, resisting the urge to poke my sole student in the ribs. “Totally understandable. How are you holding up?”

“Oh, as well as can be expected,” she said, with a flutter of her free hand. “So many decisions to make! I don’t know where to begin.”

I hesitated, then decided to take the plunge. “Do you think you’ll move into the house?”

Paris gaped.

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