“What does she mean, he looks short?”
“She says the ‘Sailor’ she sees in her visions is too short. And he uses his left hand.”
“Carlos mentioned this guy appeared to be left-handed as well.”
“I thought maybe it was just symbolic,” Patience said. “For you guys, left-handed means evil, right? Although that hardly seems fair.”
“Sometimes we refer to the ‘left-handed’ way when we speak of negative magic, it’s true. I think that’s based on some outmoded beliefs that it was somehow unnatural to be left-handed.”
Patience nodded. “That’s what I figured. Anyway, Itold Renna to lay off the lawyer. Also, she’s lining up family to stand behind Aidan for whatever showdown is coming, for what that’s worth.”
“Did she see anything with regard to Renee?”
“Black cupcakes? Something about a rain of blood... basically, not good things. Anyway.” She gestured to a nail salon, and I noticed she still wore my engagement ring on her finger. “Over there is where Juna’s grandmother, and then her mother, used to run their famous Russian bakery. Blintzes and pierogis to die for. Now it’s for pedicures—how depressing is that?”
“Could I... Do you still need my ring?”
“What?”
“My engagement ring?”
“Oh. Oh, right.” She took it off and handed it to me. “I couldn’t see any more than I had before. I mean, I saw cupcakes, but that’s not helpful. Sorry.”
“Worth a shot,” I said as I slipped the ring on my finger. I let out a sigh. It felt good to have it back. “Thanks for trying.”
She shrugged. “Juna’s place is right down here, in the back of the jeweler’s shop.”
I couldn’t help thinking of Selena as I walked through the store. Though most of their jewelry was gold, there was one whole section of silver necklaces, rings, and brooches arranged on a black velvet cloth, twinkling under the bright lights of the display.
Also on display were a number of watches, some antique, others new and shiny. One pocket watch made me think: Why had the doppelgänger stopped to check his watch? Apparently he’d done so when walking out of the hotel, after assaulting Dupree, which seemed like odd behavior for a murderer fleeing the scene of a crime. Had he paused simply to give witnesses a chance to see him, the better to finger Sailor? If not, why would he be so concerned about the time?
I followed Patience down a narrow hallway to the back of the building. She rapped on a plain wooden door, then walked in without awaiting a reply.
I don’t know what I’d been expecting from a Russian psychic’s office, but it wasn’t this. Patience’s fortune-telling business was located in an old Victorian, with the mystical accoutrements one might expect of such an establishment. But then, given the way Patience dressed, I supposed that was no surprise.
Juna’s place, in contrast, was about as romantic and otherworldly as an accountant’s office. There were two file drawers in one corner, a messy desk in front of a small window that looked out onto an alley, a crowded bookshelf, and one plain round oak table with four chairs.
“Thank you for meeting with us,” Patience said. “Juna, this is Lily Ivory. Lily, Juna.”
Juna was tall and thin. She wore an expensive-looking navy pantsuit and her dark hair framed a rather severe face that would have been at home on a runway model: sunken cheeks and deep-set eyes, more chic than pretty.
“Please, have a seat.” She gestured to the table. “So. You want to know about a man named Jamie,” she said without further niceties. She spoke with an almost imperceptible Russian accent, the kind of slight lilt one might have if raised in the US by Russian-speaking immigrants. “No last name?”
“No, sorry.”
She brought out a stack of cards and started to handle them, mixing and cutting. They weren’t a traditional tarot deck, nor were they regular playing cards. They had Cyrillic symbols and Byzantine drawings, reminiscent of the cathedral walls.
“Actually, I didn’t come for a reading,” I clarified. “I was just hoping you might know him, or perhapsyou’ve heard about him from the talk around the neighborhood.”
Her elegant eyebrows rose and she looked down her patrician nose at me. “You’re paying for the hour. You’re certain you don’t want a reading? I’m quite good.”
Patience let out a small bark of a laugh. “This one’s a special case, Juna. Take my word for it. You don’t want to read for her.”
“The price is the same.”
“I understand,” I said. “Really, all I want is information. Have you heard of Jamie?”
“Of course,” she said, setting the deck of cards aside. “He used to run a few of the psychics with the carnival, did tourist scams, that sort of thing.”
