The Metaphysical Detective (A Riga Hayworth Paranormal Mystery) by Kirsten Weiss Page A

had meant about Lauren being full of life.  Its energy shone in her face, her Mediterranean-colored eyes blazed with it.
    “Thanks for seeing me.  I’m Riga Hayworth.”
    “I know.”  Lauren gestured to a nearby couch. 
    Riga sat down, sinking into it, and had to prop her back with a throw pillow to keep herself upright. 
    Lauren laughed at that – an angry sound.   “Aaron would always play little games with chairs – his would be higher, yours lower, his would be comfortable, yours torture.  I don’t think you would have fallen for it though.”
    “Not now I’ve been warned, though my only meeting with him so far has been in a restaurant.  The chairs were all the same.”
    “He probably had you facing the window and squinting into the sun though, didn’t he?”
    Riga admitted it.
    “And did he give you the hand-on-top, I-am-superior, grip?”
    “That too.”
    Lauren put her knitting in the basket, looking pleased.  “I’ve never met a metaphysical detective.  Do you deal with many ghosts?”
    “They’re my bread and butter.”
    “Vampires?”
    Riga shook her head.  “Pain in the neck.”
    Lauren laughed politely.  “That’s a bad one.”
    “I’ve been told puns are the lowest form of humor, but Shakespeare liked them.”
    “I’ll accept Shakespeare as the higher authority.  Would you like something to drink?  Tea?  Coffee?  Something stronger?”
    “Tea will do.”
    Lauren nodded to the maid, who hovered in the doorway.  “Would you bring out a tray please?”
    The maid nodded and silently departed.
    “But why metaphysical?  Why not supernatural or psychic?”
    “Because metaphysics deals with first causes, not necessarily the supernatural.  I work in both worlds and I’m not a psychic.”
    “In other words, it works on a business card,” Lauren said shrewdly.
    “Guilty.”
    “So what sort of metaphysical investigation does Aaron figure into?” she asked.
    What sort indeed?  “Mixed media,” Riga said.  “It started out as a ghost story – my client thought she was being haunted by her husband.  But it seems to be turning into something more.  My client is dead now, an apparent accident.  Her husband worked for your ex.  He died in a car accident around the time of your divorce.”
    She tilted her head back.  “Herman Baro.  I was actually on the way to his funeral when this happened.”  One of Lauren’s hands jerked, indicating the wheelchair.  “I never really knew his wife.  And I had my hands full dealing with my own injuries afterward.  I don’t think I ever sent her a condolence letter.”
    “How well did you know Herman?”
    Lauren smiled reminiscently.  “I only saw him around Aaron’s office and at work functions, so not well.  I always thought he was misplaced as a CFO though, he was such a fast-talking charmer.  And those ridiculous magic tricks of his!  Part of me wanted to run whenever he showed up, and the other part wanted to stay just to see what he was going to do.”
    “Aaron told me that Herman had embezzled from him.”
    “Really?” Lauren roared with laughter.  “Good for him!  Not that Herman got much chance to enjoy it.”
    “No.  But Aaron says the money was never recovered.”
    “That must be driving him wild.”  Lauren smiled gleefully.
     “Tell me about Aaron.”
    Lauren wheeled her chair next to the couch.  “Give me your hands.”
    Riga stretched her hands out and Lauren took them, turning the palms up.  She gazed at Riga’s hands, saying nothing.  Slowly, Lauren’s lighthearted expression changed to something more serious.  She released Riga’s hands and backed her chair away, angling it towards the windows and the garden outside. 
    Lauren nodded. “I think I can trust you.”
    “Well?” Riga realized her hands were still outstretched, as if in supplication, and lowered them to her lap.
    “I see a sudden and dangerous journey,” Lauren said.  “But that’s not why you’re here.