Sense and Scent Ability: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (A Nora Black Midlife Psychic Mystery Book 1) by George Renee

Author:George, Renee [George, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Barkside of the Moon Press
Published: 2020-03-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

The next morning, I stood in the shower and groaned as the jets beat hot water against my aching muscles. Man, I either needed to book a massage or to get laid. Getting laid was not happening anytime soon, so I made a mental note to book an appointment with my masseuse.

Gilly’s hearing wasn’t until ten, so the first thing I had planned this morning was to harangue Ezra Holden until he came around to my point of view. I hadn’t moved my way up the ranks to regional sales manager of a top-tier beauty supply distributor because I wasn’t persuasive. I could sell water to a shark if I put my mind to it. Besides, if he knew Gilly like I did, he would be turning over every rock and leaf in this town for the real killer. But since he didn’t and wouldn’t, I would have to do it myself.

The fact that I had some leads for other suspects had given me hope for a light at the end of this scary, life-without-parole tunnel. I wondered if the weird visions I’d been having might show me something that could help my friend. So far, other than the ones I’d had about Lloyd and Shawn’s wife, the memories I’d tapped into were happy moments.

But they had all seemed tied to feelings. Maybe strong emotion was the key. If I found the actual murderer, if the feeling behind their actions was powerful enough, could I get a scent memory from them? Or, even better, how they got Gilly’s knife and used it to kill Lloyd? Of course, all the visions had been tied to scents, as well. Could I manufacture an aroma to trigger the killer? So many theories and no murderers to practice on. Yet.

I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, careful to place my foot on the bathmat. I’d had a pedicure and an eyebrow and lip wax on Friday after my doctor’s appointment. I’d gone eight weeks without doing any beauty maintenance, and I had started to resemble the bearded lady. Okay, I didn’t have that much hair on my face, but still. Every time the whiskers showed up, it was traumatic. Because of the pedicure, the bottoms of my feet were still slick when wet. I’d slid on the tile once already this weekend and strained my groin. I walked funny that entire day. I wouldn’t make that mistake twice.

When I was suddenly confronted with Ari standing in front of me, I yelped and reached back to brace myself.

The teen looked appalled. “Good God, Aunt Nora, put on a towel,” she said with a fair amount of dismay.

I was already stumbling back into the shower. Then I slipped on the wet shower stall. An unpleasant bellow escaped me as I collapsed to the stall floor like a shaken soufflé. “What are you doing in here?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Uh. Sorry. Are you okay?” Ari asked from the other side of the curtain.

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