Free In This Life by Terri Herman-Poncé Page A

do remember that he was really good at it.”
    The rest of us paused and stared at her.
    “I swear,” she said. “It’s true. He’s some big shot in the mind-reading world.”
    “They have a
world
?” Nat asked.
    Lori slapped Nat with a napkin. “You know what I mean. It’s not like he’s the only one who does it. But he’s an expert at it.”
    “Mind reading is a farce, just like tarot cards and fortunetelling. It’s a means for people to fraud money off other people.” David joined us at the table and sat down. “I’m sure the guy was entertaining, but all you need is a little experience with people and some psychology to make it look like you can do those things.”
    Lori made a face like she didn’t agree. “He knew things about the audience, David. Personal things that no one else could possibly know, and it was scary to watch. If that’s not mind reading, I don’t know what is.”
    “Lottie’s a psychologist and she’s experienced with people,” Nat said. “Do you think you could mind read?”
    Once, I went to a mind reader with friends at a college carnival. And she’d gotten everything about me all wrong. “That isn’t what this conversation is about,” I said. “This is about finding out how someone could know what I dreamt about. Or why someone would tap my phone.”
    “And how he got access,” David added.
    “Well,” Lori said, “he knows you from somewhere, obviously. People don’t do things like this unless there’s a reason. Or a connection.”
    “Crap.” Nat wiped his hands with a napkin and dropped it onto his empty plate. “I almost forgot. I shipped the envelope and hair off to our buddies in forensics this morning. Put a rush on it, too.”
    “Good.” David dug into his meal. “Maybe that’ll start giving us what we need.”
    “It’s still going to take some time to get results,” Nat said. “But at least we’ve got it moving.”
    The doorbell rang as David scooped up another forkful. He looked at me and hesitated. “You expecting anyone?”
    “No.”
    “Neither am I.”
    He went to the foyer and the front door, and another man’s voice answered David’s. David returned with a large bouquet of unusual, light blue flowers nestled in a clear vase and tied with a white bow.
    “They’re for you.”
    David set the bouquet on the coffee table in front of me and stared at it, hands on hips.
    “Oh wow. They’re beautiful!” I leaned in and inhaled, and found them as fragrant as they were striking. Warm and sweet and earthy. “Thank you, David. These are so lovely.”
    “They’re not from me.”
    I looked up at David, a little too quickly, and for a moment felt woozy. David tugged off the card and read out loud what had been written.
    I was very worried when I heard you went to the hospital. But you should be more careful next time. Next time, someone might not be there to help you.
    He checked for a signature and didn’t find one. “No name. No nothing.”
    “Except for this,” Nat said.
    He reached into the flowers and pulled out more strands of my hair.

Chapter Eleven
    “I’m calling the police.”
    Before I could pick up the phone, David had my hand. “Think this through, first.”
    “What’s to think about?” I tugged away from him, filled with a sudden, compelling urge to smell the flowers again. I should have felt revolted by them but they had captured and held my attention and I couldn’t let go. They seemed familiar and I wanted to remember from where.
    Nat stood up and joined us. “David’s right about this.” He took me by the shoulders and I pulled away from him, too. “The cops are going to fire questions at you, and you need to be prepared to answer them, Lottie.”
    “So let them ask questions,” I said. “Isn’t that the point?”
    “It’s not that simple.”
    “Why not?” I sank into the sofa and toyed with the delightful, blue and white blooms. In a deeper part of my mind, I remembered wearing them in my hair, and