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“Elphyra MacPherson. My PIN number is 3355071.”
“Let me see here.” She asked for my address. Then, after another moment, she said, “Yes, it looks like we can bury the lines for you. It will cost an extra thousand dollars given the length of your driveway and the travel time it takes our representatives and work teams to get there.”
I sighed. A thousand dollars wasn’t pocket change, but neither was cleaning up and replacing damaged goods from a break-in. I’d have to spring for the extra protection. And, an added benefit to burying the lines: they would stand up better to the wind and weather, too.
“All right. When can you upgrade my service?”
“We can be there on Sunday, sometime between two and four pm. Will that service window work for you?”
“That works,” I said, grunting at the delay. I couldn’t do anything to hurry them up, so decided I might as well take it in stride.
After I hung up, May finished shuffling the cards and she laid out three cards. The first was the ace of pentacles again, reversed. The second card was the five of swords, again, and the third was the four of cups.
“Okay, we’ve seen two of the cards before. The way I’m reading the ace of pentacles, given what we know now, is that this was a crime based on opportunity and a desire to destroy your business—to force you out of business, to be more concise. Whoever did this was patient, and given they had to wait until you were asleep and quiet tells me that, whoever it is, they’ve been watching you for some time.”
“That’s creepy,” I said.
“Yes, it is. The second card—once again, the betrayal. Someone stabbing you in the back. I think this makes it obvious that your attacker feels betrayed by you. I know it, deep in my heart. Whoever did this to your shop is out for revenge for something you did.”
I shook my head. “But I can’t think of anybody that I’ve deliberately hurt or betrayed. I mean, my mother will sing you that song everyday but she knows she’s spouting off hyperbole.”
“Well, maybe you didn’t do anything, or maybe it’s something that you wouldn’t see as betrayal. But there’s a deep emotional wound hidden by this card.” She picked up the four of cups. “As for this card—their focus is that you have what they want, not all the other wonderful things in their life. Your attacker’s wearing blinders. They’re ignoring everything positive in their own life while fixating on you and what you have. And that anger has turned into maliciousness. This is definitely an act of revenge,” she said. “I’ll say it again: whoever did this is trying to make you as miserable as they are, and they’re blaming you for everything going wrong in their life.”
As I stared at the cards, my jaw dropped. After a moment, I said, “I can’t imagine who it is. All I know is that I’m flummoxed. I know that I can be a handful, and I’m not to everyone’s tastes, but I didn’t think I was enemy-material. Why are they doing this, though?”
“We’ll figure out the why when we know the who,” May said.
At that moment, my phone beeped. I checked my texts. Kyle had sent me a message from the hospital. they’re taking faron into surgery. he’s had a setback and they can’t wait any longer. if you’d like to come, i’d appreciate it. i understand if you can’t.
“I have to go. Kyle just told me they’re taking Faron into surgery now.” I glanced at my watch. “Grams arrives at two?—”
“I’ll wait here,” May said. “It will take Bran some time to cover up all the windows, and my guess is he’s going to take care of a few other things. Run along and text me how things are going.” She turned to Bree. “Take her to the hospital, would you? We can come pick her up.”
“Are you sure? I can drive,” I said, reaching for my keys.
“No,” Bree said. “Let me do this. I have all afternoon open. I’ll come with you.”
I turned to Fancypants. “Help May if she asks. Watch after the kittens.” I shrugged into a jacket and gathered my purse and an iPad. If Faron was going into surgery, he’d probably be in there for quite some time, especially since it was brain surgery.
“Will do,” Fancypants said, waving one of his tiny hands at me. I waved back, then followed Bree outside.
As she escorted me to her car, I was grateful that she was going with me. I slid into the passenger seat, fastened my seat belt, and locked the door. She turned on the ignition and we were off, headed for the hospital, with me texting Kyle as we went.
* * *
The scent of hospitals was always a reminder of mortality—mortality and illness, of the frailty of the body and the vast number of things that could go wrong in this game we all called life. I hated the smells, though I didn’t know if that had been engrained in me from some childhood trauma. I couldn’t remember when my father died. Had I gone with my mother to the hospital? Did my general dislike stem from a disassociated memory that was stuck in some forgotten cranny of my brain? Or was it simply because I knew what it stood for?
Bree dropped me off at the front door. “I’ll be in once I find a place to park.”
I dashed over to the doors to the hospital. I wasn’t sure where the operation would be taking place, so approached the reception area.
“May I help you?” the nurse asked.
“I’m looking for the waiting room where…a friend of mine is having brain surgery. It’s experimental so…” I stopped, not sure what to ask.
“What’s his name?”
“Faron Collinsworth. His brother Kyle should be waiting for me.”
