Free Out of Sight by Stella Cameron

to headquarters for questioning and he’s still being polite.”
    Sykes looked sideways at Poppy and caught her frowning. “You’re surprised he’s polite, Poppy?” he said.
    She shook her head. “Just worried about him, is all. How did Sonia Gardner die?”
    “I’m sure that’ll get around soon enough,” Nat said. “It’s a bit early for word from Dr. Blades.”
    Blades was the Medical Examiner. And in other words, they could discuss anything as long as it had no substance.
    “Lots of blood,” Wazoo said, mostly to herself. “But the worst wounds don’t show.”
    Silence followed, which Wazoo ignored while she drank the coffee she had been brought.
    It surprised Sykes that Nat would discuss police business with his girlfriend. Another moment of intense concentration on the woman startled Sykes. In the most fleeting impression, he thought he saw what she saw:a woman in a silver dress sprawled on the ground—with a lot of blood on her legs. The pianist from last night had worn a silver dress.
    Then the image was gone. Nat hadn’t necessarily told Wazoo anything.
    “I’d be obliged if you didn’t repeat what you just heard,” Nat said.
    Poppy pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just between the four of us,” she said. “Wazoo has great instincts, don’t you?” The next look she gave Wazoo seemed unfocused, as if her eyes concentrated around, rather than on the other woman.
    “Some people say they’re amazin’,” Wazoo said. “But they’re no better than yours, Ms. Poppy Fortune. You and me got to get together and compare some things.”
    “God help us,” Nat muttered.
    Was “Ms. Poppy Fortune” getting a similar insight into Wazoo as Sykes had? Or was she reading auras and brain patterns?
    “Lunch is here,” Poppy said at the top of her voice.
    The waiter moved the low table closer to them but when he set down the po’boy, oozing thick beef gravy at the seams, Wazoo plopped to sit on the floor close to the table and dissected the huge sandwich into portions with the skill of long practice.
    She ate tidily but with gusto, chewing steadily and efficiently through a meal a lot of men might not finish.
    Nat, absorbed with his omelet, took no notice but Poppy and Sykes grinned at each other.
    Sykes felt his own expression fade to serious, but he didn’t look away from Poppy. He frowned at her but she only stared. Then he knew what she was doing. Poppy had chosen this moment to work on her telepathic skills. He opened his mind wide and listened.
    I want to talk to you, she said.
    Without looking away from her, he sipped coffee.
    Wazoo is psychic.
    He heard so clearly he coughed.
    But she also has different skills from…ours.
    Yes! he told her, but she had lowered her gaze. She had unwittingly shielded her mind again. He saw her disappointment. She didn’t think she had made contact with him. He would have to wait to put that idea right.
    “Did you know Bienville and Sonia were lovers?” Nat said, offhand.
    No one answered.
    “Supposedly some months ago now, but she didn’t want it to be over.”
    “How do you know that?” Poppy said.
    Curious, Sykes watched her reaction carefully but she was good at covering what she felt if she wanted to be.
    “One of his friends told us,” Nat said to her.
    Poppy snorted. “What friend? ”
    “It’s not important. We check everything out. Nothing is taken at face value.”
    “I’m sure it’s not.” Poppy didn’t look convinced.
    “The autopsy is being done now,” Nat said, poppinga crawfish tail into his mouth and squeezing out a fragment of shell. “The housekeeper said the front door wasn’t locked. Was that a habit of his, Poppy?”
    Sykes started to speak, but Poppy gave her head a single shake. “Last night was the first time I’ve been to Ward’s home. I don’t know his personal habits.”
    “You were both there?” Nat said, disposing of more unwanted pieces of crawfish. “You and Sykes. Did you leave