Case of Imagination by Jane Tesh

instruments. “Here’s a nice piano for sale. I know you can play.”
    “No place to put a piano.”
    “That huge parlor.”
    “That’s my séance room.”
    I put the paper down. “Why don’t you forget that and come down to the theater and help me look for clues?”
    He brightened. “And meet all the beauty queens?”
    “Miss Lovelace is seventeen. I checked.”
    “Miss Lovelace is quite lovely, but my heart belongs to Olivia.”
    Ouch. “The heart she continues to stomp on?”
    “The very same.”
    I knew exactly how that felt. “What brought this on?”
    “She called this morning. We’ve had a long talk,” Jerry said. “She’s really concerned about me.”
    I tried to make my voice sound pleasant. “How can you tell?”
    “She’s thinking of moving out here.”
    This time, I honestly felt my heart hit my shoes. “Here? To this house?”
    “Plenty of room.”
    “She’s leaving her job?”
    “It’s just a half hour to Parkland.”
    Olivia Decker. In this house. With Jerry. “You have to be kidding.”
    “It could happen. That’s why I want to get the painting done.”
    “But she hates the country, doesn’t she?”
    “That’s what I thought, too. Then I remembered she grew up on a farm.”
    “She did?” I try not to remember details of Olivia Decker’s life.
    Jerry attempted to paint in the corner and succeeded in getting paint all over the molding. “Besides, you don’t like the rural life, either. You’ve always said you prefer the city.”
    “Not now. Not after Reid Kent screwed me over.”
    Jerry sat back on his heels and looked up at me curiously. “You’re thinking of setting up an office in Celosia?”
    “Why not? There seems to be enough crime to keep me busy.” And I’d be near you. Lord, I almost said that out loud. In fact, I’d be right here in this house. Not Olivia. Me. I’d be here when you fell or caught cold or had to hide from some unhappy dope who’d paid money for a phony psychic reading.
    The realization hit me hard. My phantom maternal instinct had surfaced like an Eberlin house spook. Not only would I go anywhere with Jerry, I wanted to look after him.
    He was still looking up at me, and I think I would’ve done something seriously romantic, but there was a knock on the door, and Jerry got up to answer it.
    Two men stood on the porch, one tall and red-haired, the other shorter and darker. Both had sour expressions and squinty eyes. They didn’t look like men you’d be glad to see, but Jerry was delighted.
    “It’s my arch foe and his faithful sidekick! Hi, guys!”
    If Geoff Snyder’s hair weren’t already red, Jerry’s greeting would’ve turned it that boiled lobster color.
    “Fairweather, just what the hell do you think you’re doing? You can not start one of your séance scams in Celosia!”
    Jerry wasn’t fazed by this attack. “It’s not a scam. I’m providing a valuable service to the community.”
    I thought Geoff’s face couldn’t get any redder, either. I was wrong. He and his brother Sean were on a crusade to stamp out anything remotely psychic. Luck, chance, fate, whatever you want to call it, they’re against it.
    “You miserable little charlatan. I’ll have you arrested for fraud. I’ll have this house condemned!” He started forward, fists clenched.
    I stepped up to meet him. “Hold on.”
    He stopped, glaring. “You keep out of this, Madeline.”
    “What Jerry does in his own home is his business.”
    Sean Snyder put in a few words. “Don’t tell me he’s got you fooled, too.”
    When I took a step toward Sean, he ducked behind his brother. “No, I know it’s hokey, but I don’t let it affect my blood pressure. What are you two doing here? Aren’t there enough psychics in Parkland for you to harass?”
    Sean peeked out from behind Geoff. “Our Aunt Flossie Mae lives in this town, and we won’t have her lured by your black magic.”
    “It isn’t black magic,” Jerry said. “It’s white magic. The good