Prelude

An intense blue-white glow of astral shields shimmered fervently around a man and woman in the center of a small apartment. The short woman possessed golden-blonde hair that flowed to her hips and dark blue eyes, which sparked with a glimmer of hope.

Electra stood naked, her buxom body a curvaceous enticement while the play of shadows danced across her features. A crystal pendant in the shape of a star hung nestled in her cleavage. It shimmered brightly and reflected the flickering flames of the candles around the circle.

Alan stood beside his lover, the slow roll of a vial between his palms warming the scented oil. Neatly cut short blond hair draped his bangs sexily over his brown eyes. Nakedness revealed his defined lanky build. “Shall I anoint you now?”

She faced her lover. “It’s time.” Her eyes glistened even brighter when the cork popped from the vial then lingered on the oil trickled into her lover’s palm. The discarded vial tossed aside and his hands rubbed together, she closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath.

His touch gentle and loving, he massaged her shoulders then eased his palms to fill his hands with soft, supple mounds where his thumbs slowly traced deep, pink, sensitive flesh. He knelt. Her moan accompanied the glide of his hands along her waist and over her hips. Ever gentle, he enjoyed the pleasure derived while his hands coaxed the oil down the outside of her legs then back up the inside of her thighs.

Electra shuddered and seized a handful of his hair for support. When the probe of gentle fingers opened her to his gaze, she groaned. A violent tremble accompanied the snaked slide of his tongue. Licks elicited her gasp. Hungry lips encircled their target and her moans increased with every determined suck her lover inflicted on her needy body. Warm hands cupped her buttocks and pulled her tight against his face, but balanced her at the same time. The plunge of an eager tongue collected her nectar and stole her sanity.

Alan slid his hands higher up her back, his face pushed softly against her feminine center. Gentle, he lowered her perfect figure to the floor. Her mumbled whispers warned him her mind spun while his tongue danced a last waltz. Ever slow, he moved up. With a slow lick, he savored the fine dew formed on her skin.

She bucked her hips against his hold. “Fill me, Alan.”

“My pleasure, sweet Electra.” Inch-by-inch, he nipped a path up her supple body. Paused at ample mounds, he nibbled sinful peaks then claimed her lips in a soul-searching kiss. His tongue plunged deep within her mouth as his single thrust penetrated her velvet warmth and sheathed his veined hunger in paradise.

She lifted her hips and met his thrusts. Every deep driven stroke heightened her need. Breathless, she begged for more and offered all of herself to her lover. Their oil slicked bodies glided against each other in their search for release. His body shuddered and her urgent climax piqued. Her ears thundered and the room spun. When his seed unloaded into her, she matched him, her pleasure screamed.

They lay there several minutes, their bodies entwined. Skin-to-skin contact provided warmth and gentle caresses expressed mutual adoration.

Electra slipped from her lover’s embrace. “It’s time to continue.”

Alan sprang to his feet and proffered his hand. His welcomed offer brought her to stand before his sated body. “Guide me.”

She directed him into position, retrieved the small broom from the corner and magically swept the area clear of all but their sexual energy. Finished, she leaned the besom against the wall. The ritualistic circle boasted boundaries marked off with gold, silver, black and white candles. Each candle held a specific meaning. Nearby stood a table covered with a black cloth. Arranged in a particular manner, matched candles adorned the table while their flames flickered brightly. A large ancient book of spells lay open on the table. On its pages, a series of words written in an archaic lexis, waited to be uttered.

Electra clutched her pendant with her left hand and raised the copper wand in her right. She touched her lover’s forehead with the pendant then slowly moved it to rest on his chest over his heart. Her glance into his eyes brief, she frowned at the look of horror upon his face.

Alan reached for his lover, but the slap of an unseen force launched him through the air. He crashed against the door and shook his head to clear it. His gaze fell on the faltering shields of the circle and his hand reached for the heart of his life. “No!”

The feel of a sinister presence behind her scattered gooseflesh over her body and warm breath wafted across the back of her neck. She glanced over her shoulder and into the monstrous face of a demonic beast. “I didn’t conjure a demon.” Her attempted step hindered by the sensation of glued to the floor, she stared into the evil eyes. Surprised by how much one noticed in mere seconds, she trembled in ultimate fear.

A slow smile revealed long sharp teeth while the beast’s putrid breath emitted a carrion stench. Green rancid drool dripped onto her shoulder. Luminous vibrant red eyes fixed in a hungry glare pulsed through her veins. The hideously distorted face might have once belonged to a dog. Its large hairless body stood balanced on four tentacles while four more branched from its body and undulated through the air.

The creature hissed with each word. “Someone wants you.”

She turned her head and stared at her fallen lover near the door, her mouth open in a silent scream. Something enveloped her body and intense pain seared her flesh. A black tentacle floated past her face and circled her head. Blood trickled down her face and seeped into her eyes. Blinded by a haze, she watched her lover's eyes widen in horror.

* * * *

The creature vanished with his lover into another realm. Alan lay frozen as all stilled. Shields shimmered, flashed and disappeared. He scanned the room. “Where is she? Is the portal now closed? Is she lost to me forever?” Shaky, he scrambled to his feet and eased toward the circle. Flung back by an invisible force, he heard a slight creak from the floor as the wall stopped his flight.

Out of nowhere, the besom slid down and slammed the floor between the candles. Lightning illuminated the room a split second. An immense toll of thunder rumbled across the sky.

“Freedom.” The gravelly, hollow, whisper came from another dimension. “Freedom!”

“And so will I be free in a year,” murmured another, softer voice. “Rise again Blood Moon. Rise and free meeee!”

“Electra, forgive me!” Terrified, Alan snatched his pants and fled the room. He headed out the window at the end of the short hall and ran home.

* * * *

Bob, the barkeeper, yawned and tromped upstairs to bed. Uneasy about the wide open door of the small suite rented to a young woman, he paused, but hesitated to invade her privacy. Worried for her safety, he peeked in. “Summer, is everything ok?” Silence answered. He stepped partway into the entryway and looked around the small studio apartment. On the floor stood several burning candles of various colors arranged in what appeared certain patterns.

“Not like her to be this careless.” Careful not to disturb their position, he blew out the candles. The copper wand on the floor caught his eye. For fear it might get damaged, he picked it up and set it on the black covered table near the window. He blew out the silver, gold, black and white candle on the table then left and shut the door behind him. “So unlike Summer to do such. I'll have a stern talk with that young lady tomorrow.” His yawn stifled, he muttered under his breath about the dangers of unattended candles and fires on the way to his own room.

 Chapter One

Angelique Sterling bolted upright and fought for every breath denied her lungs. With a few mumbled words from childhood, she soothed her deepest fears. Her mother’s whispered words cherished, her breathing easier, she listened intently. “No one and nothing here but me.” Sweat-soaked sheets earned her frown. “What a nightmare.” When the attempt to assure herself the ordeal unreal failed miserably, she rolled from the bed and grimaced at the cold floor against her feet.

Once in the bathroom, she showered and fast regretted her overwhelming want of a man. “Or is it need?” She went on dates before, but never with a man anything less than excruciatingly chivalrous and boringly polite. “For once I’d like to meet a man who makes a pass.”

Dressed in a clean nightgown, Angelique changed the sheets then moved to the window. She raised her face toward what she knew was a dark, moonless, starless sky. The moon’s touch cool moisture, the sun’s dry warmth, neither caressed her cheek. For as long as she remembered, she tracked the moon’s cycle and, on certain nights, it seemed no star would trek the sky in the absence of the moon’s light.

A shiver stole over her and she hugged her arms close around her upper body. “I never did care for the Dark of the Moon. Especially the dreams that come with it.” Uneasy, she shuddered, turned away and started work a few hours early. Life remained the same and it would never change… Just as the Braille she read and the blackness, which served as her vision.

Angelique loved the old home where she lived. It rescued her from the hills of North Carolina where she might still be trapped if her father hadn’t bartered with a long time editing friend for the use of his cabin in exchange for her ghostwriting skills and a small salary. Ever grateful, she appreciated her employer’s kindness and his gift.

Rustic, yet modern, the cabin overlooked the Oregon coastline. Raw primal power of waves crashed against sheer walls. Pure inspiration sang while sounds of thunderous rushes roared their glory. The salty scent of the ocean refreshed and the subtle mist of the spray invigorated. Forests smells, especially after a rain, wafted across the porch with the sweet aroma of pine and other magnificent woodland giants.

In spring, the fragrance of wildflowers drifted through her open window. Through summer, the gentle wind danced with the wispy stalks of tall grasses. During autumn, the rustled leaves sang. With winter came the crispness of the snow crunched beneath her boots.

Angelique enjoyed each season and nature’s bestowed gifts. A nearby neighbor helped her shop while her benefactor paid the bills from her earned monies and banked the rest in her personal account. Her computer, equipped with a program, which utilized voice commands to write, also accessed the phone to call for help if needed. Prior to her moving in, the owner built an old style wooden fence around the property that prevented her fall from the cliff’s edge. For her, life was wonderful.

“Except for the intrusive new nightmares.” Dismal, she sighed. Her days came and went as always, but her nights turned into a sleepless hell. Every night a repeated nightmare led to sweat-soaked sheets and a horrible impression of something very wrong. Days became weeks and the nightmares intensified with each revelation. The last time she laid the cards for herself, they told her the worst was yet to come with the next Dark of the Moon.

* * * *

Angelique watched the sexual anointing and the ritual in horror, unable to stop the process, never able to see the faces of the couple in the center of the ritualistic circle, and in the end, unable to confront the challenging horror. When the astral plane opened and the beast grabbed the woman, an unseen force hurled the man out of the circle and broke the protective barrier. The circle faltered, held then the woman vanished. Candles flickered and danced while the besom kept open the circle as the man fled.

Startled awake, Angelique sat up and reached out with her mind into the room. As always, emptiness answered. With the lift of her hand from the sheets, she shivered at the caress of the night’s chill across her palm. “Soaked again from fear. And lust.” Always she watched the sex act. Lust drove her, taunted her, beckoned her and made her want something she never experienced, but somehow craved. She slid from bed and made her way to the shower for a quick rinse.

Finished, dried and dressed, she vigorously brushed her hair. Half out of her mind with boredom, she welcomed the interruptive ring of the phone. She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Angelique, it’s Aunt Janice. Oh, I’m so glad I caught you.”

“Hi, Aunt Janice.” For longer than Angelique remembered, her gift recognized emotions from one’s breathing or tone. Strong distress radiated from the elderly lady’s voice and she used said gift now to soothe. “What’s worrying you?”

“Oh, Angel, I'm so worried about Electra.”

She straightened. Her twin sister was always the wild child who left home first, quit school and chased dreams. “Why, Aunty?”

“Your mother and I just received word… The officer said they must wait for the correct amount of time… We haven’t heard from her in several weeks…”

Angelique stiffened. “Aunt Janice, I need to know what you’re talking about.”

“Electra… The Florida police… Oh, dear me, this is so difficult.”

“Aunt Janice, tell me what you know.”

“Electra was doing her card readings in a small bar… She always did like doing that. She disappeared, Angel, and no one knows where she is. The officer told your mother and me to stay put until they gathered more information, but they didn’t say we couldn’t send someone. If your father were alive, he’d go.”

“Yeah, he would, Aunt Janice.” This wasn’t the first time Angelique chased her sister. More than likely, her twin gallivanted off on another excursion of some sort, but she doubted revealing said information posed any good. “I’ll see if I can find her. What’s the name of the bar and where is it?”

“A place called The Dusky Pier. Let me look… Oh, here it is… Sixteen forty-five Arling Way in Harborton, Florida between Marco Island and Naples area,” Aunt Janice informed.

She scribbled the words on the nearby notepad to commit it to memory. “Okay, Aunt Janice. I’ll let you know what I find out. Take care and tell mom not to worry. Everything will be fine and I'll make sure I find my errant sister.” With the receiver hung up, she pressed the voice activation sequence. “Computer, dial Jenkins, work.”

A mechanical voice affirmed the command obeyed. “Jenkins dialed.”

An older male voice answered, “Hello?”

Angelique sighed. “Mr. Jenkins—” His gentle laugh earned her smile.

“Angelique, when will you stop being so formal? It’s Albert, remember, dear?”

“Albert, I must ask for an indefinite leave of absence. It seems my sister got herself into a situation and I need to make a trip to south Florida. I don’t know how long it’ll be before I get back.”

“Send me what you’ve completed so far then go take care of what you must.”

“Thank you. It’ll be on the way in a few.” Angelique hung up. “Computer, send file ghost seven to editor Jenkins at e-publishing dot com.”

“File transferred.”

“What would I do without you?” She didn’t expect any response and lifted the receiver. “Computer, dial Susan, home.”

“Susan dialed.”

A very businesslike woman answered, “Hello?”

Angelique softened the urgency in her voice. “Susan, I need some help. I must make a trip to south Florida. Could you perhaps help me pack and drive me to the airport?”

“Of course, dear. I’ll be there in a few minutes. You leave packing and reservations to me.”

“Thank you.” She hung up the receiver and sat on the corner of the desk. “What should I pack?” Within a short time, a knock on the door garnered her attention. “Come in.”

Susan entered and shut the door. “Florida! Oh how wonderful. I always wanted to go, but it’s so far away. Is there a particular airline in mind and when you wanted to leave?”

Angelique didn’t wish to diminish the woman’s excitement. “I do need to get there as quickly as possible.” Air whipped past and indicated the woman’s sudden pivot.

“Is everything all right? I mean, if this isn’t— oh Angelique, what’s happened, darling?”

“My sister is missing, but she’s done this sort of thing before. Could you help me?” The squeak of her computer chair and the slide of her mouse announced her friend’s action.

“Let’s see what I find on Delta via the internet.” Susan tapped the monitor. “Oh look, there’s a flight out of Portland at six-thirty this evening, which gives us enough time to get you packed, there and checked in. You’ll arrive in Salt Lake City at nine-nineteen, depart at eleven-forty-five, arrive in Atlanta at eight after five in the morning, depart at nine-forty and get to Naples Municipal Airport at eleven-twenty-three tomorrow morning. And all for under six hundred dollars. You can pick up the ticket and itinerary at the airport. Shall I make the purchase?”

Angelique opened her purse, withdrew her credit card and offered it. “Yes, please and inform them I’m blind.” The woman’s gentle fingers brushed her palm as her card left her hand.

“Will do, dear. Okay, according to this, they’ll help you get from one flight to the next.”

The mouse clicked several times while she patiently waited. “I’ll need someone to help me get my luggage and a taxi.”

Susan chuckled. “All cities have Yellow Cab, darling. Let me see if I can locate them and what I can arrange. Ah, yes, here’s the number.” She dialed the phone.

“Yellow Cab.”

“Hi, my name is Susan Peterson and I’m calling for a young lady who needs to arrange her pick up at the Naples Municipal Airport. She’s blind and will need the driver’s assistance to collect her luggage. Is this possible?”

“Sure,” the dispatched answered cheerfully. “All I need is the airlines and her name. I can get the rest for the driver. Tell her remain at the gate and the driver will retrieve her then her luggage.”

Susan rattled the Delta flight number and arrival time. “Her name is Angelique Sterling.”

“The driver will be waiting at the gate upon her arrival.”

“Thank you.” She hung up the phone. “All set, hon. Now let’s get you packed.”

Her elbow cupped by her friend’s gentle hand and guided, Angelique recognized the bedroom carpet under her feet. Stationed near the bathroom door, she listened to her suitcase complain during its drag from the closet until plunked down on the bed. The travel case soon followed suit. “I’d like to wear my white sundress and carry my sweater coat.”

Susan offered the requested article of clothing. “Here’s your sundress. If you’ll put that on, I’ll get you two weeks of clothes then show you how it’s packed.”

“Thank you.” With the bathroom door shut behind her, she dressed and returned to her bed. Her hand guided over each separate pile of clothes, she smiled.

“Colors are packed from lightest to darkest. Here are the shirts, mostly T-shirts, shorts, some jeans, two nightgowns, your slippers and spare tennis shoes. I presume you’ll wear your sandals.”

“Of course. It’s not snowing yet.” Deeply grateful her friend packed her clothes in an order of convenience, Angelique smiled as her sandals nudged her feet. She slipped on the shoes. “You’re a good friend.”

“Oh think nothing of it.” Susan patted her hand. “I’m collecting your full bottles of shampoo and conditioner along with your hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, nail file, liquid soap, loufa and other feminine needs. Okay, hon, let me get these to the car then I’ll come back for you.”

After the woman brushed past, she flung a prayer to the air. “Electra, you better be in real trouble this time.” A door’s open and shut sound urged her collect her white cane and purse from the computer desk. The warmth of the woman's hand slipped through her arm and ushered her outside.

“Let’s hit the road, hon. I still have your card. There’s an ATM at the airport. We’ll get you some cash for the road.”

Seated in the passenger side, her legs inside the car, Angelique tugged her seatbelt snug and listened as each sound and motion announced an action. Her door shut, the driver’s side dipped, that door slammed, the engine purred to life and the vehicle sped away. She listened to trees whiz past while the ocean’s aroma faded. Relaxed for the drive, she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep. Awakened by the opening of her car door and the older woman’s hand under her elbow, she shook her head and cleared it.

“Come along,” Susan urged. “I’ve a nice young man here helping me with your luggage. Once I get you inside, I must leave as I can’t go past the main security check. There’s an ATM.”

She exited the car and, her elbow cupped, was guided to a certain spot. A machine’s whir, the shuffle of money then a click, accompanied the card placed in her hand. The press of several bills in her palm garnered her complete attention.

“There’s a fifty, a twenty and two tens in that order from the bottom up. I’ll walk you to the counter. I’m leaving you in good hands here, hon. You let me know if you need anything.”

“I will, Susan. Thank you.” After a brief embrace by her friend at the counter, Angelique knew the faded perfume declared the woman’s departure. Her billfold retrieved, she nestled the money and card in a zippered side pocket.

“May I help you, miss?”

The gentleman’s friendly voice earned her smile. “I purchased a ticket earlier under Angelique Sterling.” His swift typing lasted mere seconds.

“Of course. If you wait there, one of our flight attendants will escort you to the gate. The lady with you already tagged your bags. I’m placing them on the conveyer belt which takes them to the plane.”

Appreciative, Angelique nodded. “You’re very kind for telling me the steps. Thank you.”

“It’s my job, miss. I’ll give your ticket to the flight attendant who will accompany you to the gate. Here she is now.”

“Hello, Miss, my name is Jennifer. Please allow me to guide you.”

“Thank you.” Escorted around the counter and down what seemed a long corridor, Angelique listened to the security procedures. Safely through the gate and directed to a seat, she sat.

 “If you wait here, miss, another flight attendant will help you board the plane.”

A loud announcement came from the speakers. “Passengers of flight one four zero five will begin boarding in five minutes. Those with disabilities and small children will be seated first. Thank you.”

Patient, Angelique studied the surrounding sounds. The voices of children called down by their mothers intermingled with various conversations and the sounds of turned newspapers blended with the shuffle of passersby.

“Miss Angelique Sterling?”

She proffered her arm. A feminine hand grasped her hand. “Yes.”

“My name is Julia. I’ve come to direct you aboard. I'll help you to your seat and will show you where all the buttons are. After we land, someone will assist you to your next flight.”

“Thank you.” Seated, Angelique listened carefully while the stewardess explained each button. The flight attendant handed her a blanket and pillow. She closed her eyes and rested unbothered by dreams. A gentle shake of her shoulder startled her awake.

Uneventful, the debarking and boarding process started and ended in much the same manner and she slept right through the last leg of her trip until landed in Florida. The stewardess guided her to the exit where another attendant waited. An approach of heavy footsteps preceded a man's voice softly speaking to her helper.

Julia guided her hand. “There’s a Yellow Cab driver here who says he’s to help you with your luggage. I’m assured he’s a gentleman who works primarily with the company’s most special customers. Miss Sterling, this is William.

“This must be the driver Susan arranged.” Angelique proffered her hand. The returned grasp belonged to a hand not much larger than her own, but rather calloused. His soft greeting almost escaped her ears as his quick firm handshake withdrew. “Hello, William.”

“Miss Sterling, I’ll take you to the luggage conveyer then we’ll be on our way.” William guided her steps along the corridor then halted. “This is the luggage conveyor. Tell me what I’m looking for then wait here for me.”

“There are two pieces, a large bright red with white trim and a small matching travel case.” Her ears tracked his every move. Patient, she waited several minutes until his return. The sound of shifted bags held her attention until his hand cupped her elbow.

“Miss Sterling, I have your luggage. Even checked the name.” William directed her to his cab and opened the back door.

Careful, Angelique climbed into the cab and shut the door. Her ears attuned, she recognized the slam of the trunk, the shift of the vehicle upon a person sitting in the front and the slam of the driver’s door. “I’m going to Harborton, between the Marco Island and Naples area. There’s a small bar called The Dusky Pier at sixteen forty-five Arling Way.”

“I’m familiar with it, miss. It’ll take about an hour.”

After the vehicle’s engine purred into life, she rolled down the window and let the wind whip through her hair. She grabbed the lose tendrils, secured them with her hand and inhaled deeply. The smell of the ocean much the same, this aroma contained a stale, dampness, almost like the subtle decay of foliage. Everglades. Her wish to see the landscape, all she could do was imagine the scenery while the car whizzed past each tree. A gentle gust of wind teased her with a faint wisp of an alluring scent.

Angelique inhaled deeply, but failed to identify the tempting lure for as swiftly as it assailed her senses it vanished. Sudden longing surged through her veins in the form of a desire she couldn’t name. It intensified as though she closed the distance to its source with every turn of the taxi’s wheel. When the vehicle stopped, she shook her head to clear it.

“We're here, Miss.”

Attuned, she focused on his exit of the car, the slam of the driver’s door, a pause then the squeak of her door. His gallant cup of her elbow helped her from the taxi. “Thank you.”

“Wait here and I'll quickly fetch your suitcases, Miss.”

Angelique heard the trunk open then close just before his steps reached her side and his hand cupped her elbow. Helped inside to a barstool by the driver, the soft push of air against her ankles and a brief click of metal declared her luggage waited near the bar by her feet. “You’ve been very helpful.”

“It’s forty-five dollars and eighty cents, miss.”

Her cane carefully leaned against the bar, she pulled several bills from the purse draped on her shoulder. Earlier placement of the unfolded bills in her purse her only way of counting, she proffered sixty dollars. “Thank you for your kindness. Please keep the change.” The bills gently slid from her fingers.

“Thank you, miss.”

With his departure accompanied by a breeze from the door, Angelique adjusted her sundress, sat on a barstool and set her purse on the bar. Intent, she listened to her surroundings. Wooden planks announced each heavy footstep on the other side of the bar. Old Spice filled her nose. The barkeep. His steps halted.

“Not many pretty ladies come in here alone. What can I get you?”

She smiled. “A Coke would be fine. I’m Angelique Sterling and I'm looking for someone. Could you please help me?”

“Name’s Bob and depends on who it is.”

After the brief gurgle of the soda fountain followed by the soft plop of a glass on the counter, Angelique inched her fingers toward the cooler air, which lingered around an ice-filled drink. A set of old weathered masculine fingers brushed her hand. Her smile warm, she figured the man picked up on her blindness. “Thank you. I’m looking for a girl named Electra. She’s my twin sister.” She folded her cane and slipped it inside her purse.

“Didn’t realize you… Forgive me, Miss.” Bob cleared his throat. “I don’t know anyone by that name, but there was girl here for several months named Summer who looked rather like you.”

“She wrote Mom in North Carolina and said something about working in a bar and reading Tarot cards.”

“Sounds like Summer. She disappeared a month ago without so much as a word and I’ve not seen her since. She left all her things in the room upstairs and such worries me a lot. Matter of fact, I called the cops after waiting the minimum amount of time, but I thought about calling the police today. She was—is a sweet lady. The cops never called me. Did they call you?”

Angelique shook her head, “No. My Aunt did. I came here at the request of my mother.”

Bob sighed. “No one has seen her since that night.”

She liked the soft swish of a cloth over the wood counter, which signified his cleaning. “You said you still have her things. Do you have her tarot cards?”

He studied the young woman. “I haven’t touched anything in her rooms or the table she always used, as yet. Your sister paid in advance, so rent's paid up till end of next month. I take it you want to see them?”

Angelique nodded. “They might tell me something.”

Bob leaned closer. “But if you’re blind, how can you read them?”

“I don’t need eyes to see what they show me.”

“Very well.”

Angelique stood. His footsteps moved from behind the bar and approached her side of it. “May I use my hands to see your face?”

“I suppose.” Bob stood very still while her fingers touched his face, chin, mouth, nosed, closed eyes and forehead.

“Exactly as I pictured. A kindly old man.” Her smile warm, she lowered her hands and picked up her purse. “Thank you. It’s how I see people.”

“Didn't hurt a bit.”

At the gentleness of his hand on her elbow, Angelique welcomed his guidance. “Thank you.”

“This way.” Bob gently nudged her toward the table her sister used until her disappearance. “People liked her reading the tarot. She was pretty good at it. Kept my bar filled on slow nights, too.” He chuckled and pulled out a chair.

With her ears focused on sounds, she touched the chair, sat and located the edge of the table. A drawer slid open on the side of the table and his hand placed hers on the edge of the wooden ledge.

“She kept her cards in this drawer.”

His steps moved back. Angelique reached out, ascertained a nearby chair and set her purse on it. Her lips trembled as her hands eased over the table and her fingers investigated the smooth wooden surface. Visions of her sister flashed through her mind. A tiny stab pricked the tip of her forefinger. “Ouch!” The vision faded. She placed her injured finger in her mouth, but honed in on the barkeep who shuffled closer.

Bob cleared his throat. “Here, let me see.”

His fingertips brushed the back of her hand, but she pushed him away. “Later. Her work area first.” Aware the cards would be wrapped in a deep purple cloth, she discovered the deck, carefully pulled out the bundle and set it on the table. She opened the silky material and touched the top card. “Death holds a Lady in the Tower.” Shivers tickled her spine when she turned over the top three cards, fanned them out and sensed the barkeep’s uneasiness.

“The card called Death is on top of the Priestess lying on the Tower. How’d you do that? What trick is this?”