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It seems so sad that the murdered woman Lynesse had lived among such beauty only to have it snatched away. I wonder if she misses her things. If the man who bought her all these things did this to her.
This thought makes me frown. Where was he when all this was happening? Why was some other man with his fiancée?
Remi’s body language tells me that she is waiting for me to say something even though she is trying her hardest to give me time. Finally she turns to me with a raised brow.
I shrug my shoulders, not knowing what to say to her. “I’ve got nothing.”
“You must have some thoughts,” she says. “Let’s just start with your general impressions of the house.”
“The guy who lived her
e was super-rich,” I mutter.
She doesn’t laugh at me. “Do you think it’s a guy because you read it in the paper or for some other reason?”
I roll my eyes. “If I hadn’t read it in the paper I would still know.” I gesture at the canvass on the wall.
“Could be a woman who had a liking for the female form,” says Remi.
I smile. It feels nice to banter with her like this. It doesn’t feel like she is testing me to see how stupid or not I am.
“No, they’re his.” I point to some other paintings hung up near the entryway. They depict brightly colored objects and people from Otherworld. The colors are brilliant and jarring, the style almost confrontational. “Those are hers. She was keen on rediscovering her heritage. She was trying to put her stamp on the house and he was pushing back. He didn’t like them. I think it was a point of contention between them.”
I don’t know how I know this. I feel like it comes from a combination of all of the details I am seeing and the feelings from them all melting together in my mind somehow to tell me I could bet my life that her fiancé is a controlling man who always has to have what he likes the way he likes it.
“I bet he spends his money as fast as he makes it,” I mutter. “I bet he’s used to getting everything he wants.”
“Now tell me something only a psychic sees,” she says.
“It doesn’t work like that. What was the male victim’s name?”
“Why? Do you sense anything about him?”
I shake my head.
But Remi is not one to give up so easily. “Do you think they were having an affair?”
I think about it, then shake my head. “No. Their body language wasn’t like that in the dream. I’m sure they were just friends.”
“What’s your theory of the crime?” Remi says. “What do you think the sequence of events was?”
“I saw a bit in my dream. The killer was watching them through the window.” I point to it.
Remi looks interested. She goes over to it and places a little sticker there. She makes a note on her notepad.
I tell her the rest of what I saw. She nods and writes it all down. I don’t feel like I have told her anything she doesn’t already know. I feel like a complete amateur.
“Who was he then? The dead guy?”
“Who was she, is the question you should be asking,” says Leo behind me.
I turn around startled, not having heard him come in. I smile at him, but golden Leo who was always sunny and friendly to me doesn’t smile back.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You tell us.” He advances towards us. His phone is in his hand. He hands it to Remi, who reads something off the screen.
She whistles. “I knew Monroe would be good,” she says to Leo. “You gotta admit that was fast.” She gives me a sympathetic look.
