looked at it. The Hanged Man, hard to say what that one meant, but it was not a card to calm a man's nerves. And finally, Death. Plain enough, that one. But whose death, for Christ's sake? And when? More questions than answers.
High heels clattered outside on the wooden steps. The door buzzer sounded.
"It's open," Peter called, without looking up from the cards.
The door was flung in and a spectacular blonde girl marched into the room.
"Hello, Susu," Peter said.
The girl stood posing with her hands on nicely rounded hips. Her feet were angled in the classic model's stance. The electric-blue dress she wore was slit to show several yards of thigh. Above, her bosom threatened to spill out at the first sudden movement. "Didn't you hear me honk?" she demanded.
"I heard you." Peter stayed in the chair, looking at her. A million dollars worth of golden hair and china-blue eyes with a body that would stop a train, and he couldn't even get interested. What a hell of a Saturday night this was going to be.
"Well, come on , then. Are we going out tonight or not?"
"I've had a couple qf really rough days, Susu. How would it be if we just stayed in tonight? We'll have a pizza delivered, listen to some music, watch TV. There's a good flick on the Z Channel."
"You're putting me on, aren't you. You're having a little fun with Susu."
"No, seriously, I just don't feel up to a big noisy evening."
Susu's blue eyes widened dangerously. "Well, isn't that a hell of a note. Ever since we met you've been going, 'Hey, get me into a party at Hefner's place.' So finally I go and do it, and let me tell you it wasn't easy. Hef doesn't let just anybody come to his parties, you know."
"I know he doesn't," Peter broke in, "and I appreciate the trouble you went to."
Susu continued as though he hadn't spoken. "When Hef invites a girl to come, he usually means the girl, period. So I hint around and hint around, and finally he says okay I can bring a friend. And what do I get from you?" She made her voice low and petulant, 'Let's stay home and eat pizza and watch TV.' What kind of crap is that?"
Peter gazed levelly at her from the Stratolounger. "I told you, Susu, I just don't feel up to it. What more can I say?"
"And I thought you were a swinger. Shit, you're ready for Leisure World, that's what you are. Turn on Lawrence Welk, why don't you? That's your speed."
"Look, sweetie, why don't you just go on to the party and quit chipping at me."
"You want me to go to Hugh Hefner's party by myself after I made such a big deal about bringing a friend?"
"I'm sure he'll let you in."
"You bet your ass he'll let me in. That's not the point."
"Or take somebody else if you want to."
"I might just do that, Mr. Swinger."
"Goodbye, Susu."
She stood for a moment glaring at him, her ripe little mouth pushed into an unattractive pout. Then she spun around and flounced out of the house, giving him a last saucy twitch of her delectable behind.
Peter sat listening gloomily as Susu's heels clattered down the wooden stairs. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was flat getting old. After thirty a man ought to make some adjustments in his life style. Settle down, sink some roots. Anyway, it was a damn shame to waste Susu that way.
He levered himself out of the chair and walked over to the window. Down below, the street was dark, with only a faint glow from the street light on the corner of Laurel Canyon Boulevard. Susu's taillights were just disappearing. Symbolic, Peter thought heavily, and turned away.
The Tarot cards were still spread out on the low table. With a sigh, Peter sat down. He scooped up the pack and began to shuffle, then stopped. His eye fell on the Ouija board that was propped on a bookshelf across the room. Peter had always liked to use the board with his clients because it was so easy to manipulate. Most of the time he could just rest his fingers on the planchette and let the lady shove it around to spell out any message she wanted. If the client
High heels clattered outside on the wooden steps. The door buzzer sounded.
"It's open," Peter called, without looking up from the cards.
The door was flung in and a spectacular blonde girl marched into the room.
"Hello, Susu," Peter said.
The girl stood posing with her hands on nicely rounded hips. Her feet were angled in the classic model's stance. The electric-blue dress she wore was slit to show several yards of thigh. Above, her bosom threatened to spill out at the first sudden movement. "Didn't you hear me honk?" she demanded.
"I heard you." Peter stayed in the chair, looking at her. A million dollars worth of golden hair and china-blue eyes with a body that would stop a train, and he couldn't even get interested. What a hell of a Saturday night this was going to be.
"Well, come on , then. Are we going out tonight or not?"
"I've had a couple qf really rough days, Susu. How would it be if we just stayed in tonight? We'll have a pizza delivered, listen to some music, watch TV. There's a good flick on the Z Channel."
"You're putting me on, aren't you. You're having a little fun with Susu."
"No, seriously, I just don't feel up to a big noisy evening."
Susu's blue eyes widened dangerously. "Well, isn't that a hell of a note. Ever since we met you've been going, 'Hey, get me into a party at Hefner's place.' So finally I go and do it, and let me tell you it wasn't easy. Hef doesn't let just anybody come to his parties, you know."
"I know he doesn't," Peter broke in, "and I appreciate the trouble you went to."
Susu continued as though he hadn't spoken. "When Hef invites a girl to come, he usually means the girl, period. So I hint around and hint around, and finally he says okay I can bring a friend. And what do I get from you?" She made her voice low and petulant, 'Let's stay home and eat pizza and watch TV.' What kind of crap is that?"
Peter gazed levelly at her from the Stratolounger. "I told you, Susu, I just don't feel up to it. What more can I say?"
"And I thought you were a swinger. Shit, you're ready for Leisure World, that's what you are. Turn on Lawrence Welk, why don't you? That's your speed."
"Look, sweetie, why don't you just go on to the party and quit chipping at me."
"You want me to go to Hugh Hefner's party by myself after I made such a big deal about bringing a friend?"
"I'm sure he'll let you in."
"You bet your ass he'll let me in. That's not the point."
"Or take somebody else if you want to."
"I might just do that, Mr. Swinger."
"Goodbye, Susu."
She stood for a moment glaring at him, her ripe little mouth pushed into an unattractive pout. Then she spun around and flounced out of the house, giving him a last saucy twitch of her delectable behind.
Peter sat listening gloomily as Susu's heels clattered down the wooden stairs. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was flat getting old. After thirty a man ought to make some adjustments in his life style. Settle down, sink some roots. Anyway, it was a damn shame to waste Susu that way.
He levered himself out of the chair and walked over to the window. Down below, the street was dark, with only a faint glow from the street light on the corner of Laurel Canyon Boulevard. Susu's taillights were just disappearing. Symbolic, Peter thought heavily, and turned away.
The Tarot cards were still spread out on the low table. With a sigh, Peter sat down. He scooped up the pack and began to shuffle, then stopped. His eye fell on the Ouija board that was propped on a bookshelf across the room. Peter had always liked to use the board with his clients because it was so easy to manipulate. Most of the time he could just rest his fingers on the planchette and let the lady shove it around to spell out any message she wanted. If the client
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