woman stepped boldly forward, close enough to touch his desk, so close Old Spice mingled with Chanel No. 5. Her hands were milky smooth, long fingered with perfect, clear-glossed oval nails. Her engagement ring in platinum, like her wedding ring, had an emerald-cut diamond the size of Texas.
She leaned forward, an aggressive move, and as she did, a rust linen garment with black piping rested diagonally against her forearm. A cape. “"You work,”" she said with sarcasm. “"I’'ll go to the fair by myself.”"
“"That quilt will never win,”" he said, without looking up. She gave a bitter laugh. “"Neither will you. I’'m meeting Daddy at the club for drinks at six. I’'ll make your excuses. He and I have a lot to talk about. In case you care.”"
“"I don’'t.”"
“"I know.”"
I opened my eyes and looked into Eve’'s.
She’'d parked her car to shield me from the police going in and out of my shop’'s front door.
I blinked against the glare of the sun. “"When did you get here?”" Twenty I have no desire to give lectures on the subject of fashion. I put my money on feelings: Wear it and enjoy it.
—--GIANNI VERSACE
“"That was a long zone out,”" Eve said with concern as she sat beside me.
“"My second since I got here, and frustrating. The woman in my vision was wearing this, but I never saw her face.”" I touched the cape, shivered despite the sun, and stuck my icy hands in its unzipped pockets. “"I might have seen the same couple in my first vision. I’'m not sure.”"
Eve held up a caramel latte to tempt me.
I shook my head. “"Not right now. Thanks.”" I was still too connected to my vision to cut the psychic cord.
“"By the way,”" she said, “"you just put period to any doubts I might have harbored about your psychometric ability.”"
“"But you’'re a scientist.”"
“"Yes, well, I’'m a scientist who believes in you .”"
“"Thanks, sweetie.”" My warming fingers closed on a sharp-edged piece of plastic in one of the pockets, so I took it out and held it in my palm for both of us to see.
“"A leopard fingernail,”" Eve said. “"It’'s awfully long.”"
“"Takes a certain kind of woman to wear fingernails like this,”" I said. “"Were animal-print fingernails in vogue at the same time as this cape? I’'ll have to ask Aunt Fiona.”"
With fear still wrapped around me, and a strange fingernail in my hand, Eve put the latte’'s sippy slot to my mouth and about poured it down my throat. Her action made me want to chuckle, but I didn’'t dare, because I didn’'t want to spill coffee on the cape. However, my sweet friend and her sweet, life-giving shot of inner warmth made me feel like myself again. Alive. Happy and in control. No, I didn’'t know who killed who, but Eve put things into perspective for me.
All in good time. I had to live my own life while I worked to make the puzzle pieces of other people’'s lives and deaths fall into place. Prepared to do just that, I slipped the fingernail into the cape pocket, zipped it, took the cup from Eve’'s hands, and let it warm my own.
She nodded. “"Glad you’'re coming out of it.”"
“"Thanks to you.”"
“"Do you think the fingernail belonged to the woman who owned the clothes?”" I shrugged. “"Note to me: check local nail salons to see who does nails like this and how long they’'ve been in style.”"
“"You’'re smart to look for the ‘'artist,’' rather than the canvas. You could find out who has them done that way with some small talk while you’'re getting your own nails done.”" Eve smirked. “"You’'d look great with pumpkins on black for Halloween.”"
“"Don’'t put it past me. I had ladybug fingernails one of the times Nick came to New York. That’'s how I got my nickname.”"
“"I can’'t stand it anymore,”" Eve shouted, as if she’'d snapped. “"I have to ask. What and who did you see in your vision?”"
I sighed. “"The back of a man’'s head, the top of
She leaned forward, an aggressive move, and as she did, a rust linen garment with black piping rested diagonally against her forearm. A cape. “"You work,”" she said with sarcasm. “"I’'ll go to the fair by myself.”"
“"That quilt will never win,”" he said, without looking up. She gave a bitter laugh. “"Neither will you. I’'m meeting Daddy at the club for drinks at six. I’'ll make your excuses. He and I have a lot to talk about. In case you care.”"
“"I don’'t.”"
“"I know.”"
I opened my eyes and looked into Eve’'s.
She’'d parked her car to shield me from the police going in and out of my shop’'s front door.
I blinked against the glare of the sun. “"When did you get here?”" Twenty I have no desire to give lectures on the subject of fashion. I put my money on feelings: Wear it and enjoy it.
—--GIANNI VERSACE
“"That was a long zone out,”" Eve said with concern as she sat beside me.
“"My second since I got here, and frustrating. The woman in my vision was wearing this, but I never saw her face.”" I touched the cape, shivered despite the sun, and stuck my icy hands in its unzipped pockets. “"I might have seen the same couple in my first vision. I’'m not sure.”"
Eve held up a caramel latte to tempt me.
I shook my head. “"Not right now. Thanks.”" I was still too connected to my vision to cut the psychic cord.
“"By the way,”" she said, “"you just put period to any doubts I might have harbored about your psychometric ability.”"
“"But you’'re a scientist.”"
“"Yes, well, I’'m a scientist who believes in you .”"
“"Thanks, sweetie.”" My warming fingers closed on a sharp-edged piece of plastic in one of the pockets, so I took it out and held it in my palm for both of us to see.
“"A leopard fingernail,”" Eve said. “"It’'s awfully long.”"
“"Takes a certain kind of woman to wear fingernails like this,”" I said. “"Were animal-print fingernails in vogue at the same time as this cape? I’'ll have to ask Aunt Fiona.”"
With fear still wrapped around me, and a strange fingernail in my hand, Eve put the latte’'s sippy slot to my mouth and about poured it down my throat. Her action made me want to chuckle, but I didn’'t dare, because I didn’'t want to spill coffee on the cape. However, my sweet friend and her sweet, life-giving shot of inner warmth made me feel like myself again. Alive. Happy and in control. No, I didn’'t know who killed who, but Eve put things into perspective for me.
All in good time. I had to live my own life while I worked to make the puzzle pieces of other people’'s lives and deaths fall into place. Prepared to do just that, I slipped the fingernail into the cape pocket, zipped it, took the cup from Eve’'s hands, and let it warm my own.
She nodded. “"Glad you’'re coming out of it.”"
“"Thanks to you.”"
“"Do you think the fingernail belonged to the woman who owned the clothes?”" I shrugged. “"Note to me: check local nail salons to see who does nails like this and how long they’'ve been in style.”"
“"You’'re smart to look for the ‘'artist,’' rather than the canvas. You could find out who has them done that way with some small talk while you’'re getting your own nails done.”" Eve smirked. “"You’'d look great with pumpkins on black for Halloween.”"
“"Don’'t put it past me. I had ladybug fingernails one of the times Nick came to New York. That’'s how I got my nickname.”"
“"I can’'t stand it anymore,”" Eve shouted, as if she’'d snapped. “"I have to ask. What and who did you see in your vision?”"
I sighed. “"The back of a man’'s head, the top of
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