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Footsteps have me turning to see Nathan as he steps out of the house with a mug in his hand, and I watch as he sits on the bench next to me. He doesn’t say anything. He just sits there drinking his coffee.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s a lot, I know.”
“A psychic, though? Am I really the kind of person who takes people’s money and tricks them into believing I can see their dead loved ones?”
“Actually, from what I understand, you don’t charge for your services at all. I’ll be honest, Captain James—the man I spoke to—speaks very highly of you. He says you’re the most skeptical out of all of them, which is ironic given how often you’re right.”
“Okay, back up and start from the beginning. Wait, before we get into this, can you tell me if there is anything I need to know? Like if I have an ex-husband and kids somewhere, or a family at least?”
“Shit, I’m sorry, Rue. I should have told you all that already.”
“Well, I figured I didn’t have a current husband when nobody came to see me, so there is that. Plus, you’ve been busy.”
“It’s no excuse.” He places his mug on the floor near his feet. “No, from what I’ve found, you don’t have a husband, ex or current, and no children either.”
“What about parents or siblings?”
“You had a sister who died when she was a teenager, and your parents appeared to have died not long after in a house fire. That was ten years ago.”
“I would have barely been an adult and all alone in the world,” I whisper, feeling sorry for my younger self. It seems like death has crept into my life one too many times.
He nods as I take a moment, feeling oddly detached from it all.
“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about that. On the one hand, I’m sorry they’re gone. They at least would have had some insight into who I am. But the reality is, I don’t know them. I don’t remember a single thing about them. It’s hard to miss or grieve for people who, right now, never existed to me.”
“There isn’t a right or wrong here, only what is.”
I look out over the grass and sigh. “You realize you sound more like Yoda than a cop right now?”
He chuckles. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”
I’m not touching that comment. I’m not sure half the time if he’s flirting with me or if that’s his nature.
“So, I’m a psychic? I haven’t had any visions since I’ve been awake. I think it’s safe to say I’m out of a job.”
“You were drugged, Rue,” he reminds me.
“Are you saying you believe in that kind of thing?”
“I think this is the most bizarre conversation we’ll probably have. A skeptical psychic arguing with an unconvinced believer.”
I look at him and grin. “Seems my crazy is rubbing off on you.”
“You’re not crazy.”
“That remains to be seen. Alright, give me a crash course on this psychic gig. You said I was tracking the killer?”
He nods.
“And there have been ten victims, including me, right?”
He nods again.
“Do you have any suspects?”
He looks at me, considering his answer. It’s frustrating as hell because working with half-truths is never going to jog my memory.
