Free Three O'Clock Séance: An Inspector Rebecca Mayfield Mystery (The Rebecca Mayfield Mysteries Book 3) by Joanne Pence Page B

this almost too easy. Usually, it was like pulling teeth to get people she came into contact with to talk about themselves and their interests. These people all but spewed out their stories for her. Almost as if concentrating so much on the dead made them value their time with someone alive more than most people did.
    The thought jarred her. It was, she hated to admit it, rather like the life of a homicide detective. She pushed aside the thought. “So, tell me,” she said to Marta, “do you come to these séances very often?”
    “Absolutely!” Marta exclaimed. “We were so thrilled when Sandy moved his home and offices to San Francisco some five years earlier, we could scarcely stand it. Sandy’s wonderful, and because we’ve followed him for so long, he only charges us the one participant price, although the two of us attend. Isn’t that wonderful and generous of him?”
    Rebecca thought quickly. “I’m here as a guest tonight. If I did come on my own, could you tell me the cost to take part in a séance?”
    “It’s five hundred dollars,” Henry said. “And worth every penny. It’s not often you get a vision of the life to come. Most people sit around and play the agnostic, saying they don’t know if there’s life after death. Or they want proof. Well, it’s right here. All the proof they could want. They’re just too damned stupid or lazy to come and see for themselves.”
    “Now, Henry,” Marta said with a smile, “don’t be harsh. Not everyone is open to reality.”
    Rebecca was struck momentarily speechless by not only the amount of money these people were paying for a couple of hours with Sandy, but that they were so completely convinced what happened at the séances was real. She noticed that Donald Luff had left her side and was now talking to two woman who had entered after she had. One of them appeared quite young and wore jeans and a leather jacket, while the other looked middle-aged with graying hair and glasses.
    “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to introduce myself to the other Sandorista here,” Rebecca said to Henry and Marta. “I really enjoy talking to people who have some experience with all this. It was nice meeting you.”
    “We’ll talk again, I’m sure,” Marta said.
    Rebecca found Candace Carter, who stood alone after wandering over to a trash bin to throw away her plastic water glass. Candace appeared to be another strong, spry septuagenarian. Her short hair was dyed brown, her make-up light, and she wore a bright green pants suit.
    “Excuse me,” Rebecca said, then introduced herself as a person interested in learning more about the afterlife.
    “You’ve come to the right place.” Candace smiled pleasantly at her, and then looked over the room. “I think you’ll enjoy it here. I do. It’s my way of being around people I like.”
    “The Sandoristas?” Rebecca asked.
    “Hell, no.” She chuckled. “I mean my friends who have died.”
    Rebecca gaped.
    “I hardly knew what to do with myself after I retired,” Candace began. She had taught second graders until she was forced to retire at age 70. She confessed that before she found Sandy and the Sandoristas, she had been lost.
    “Rebecca, I’m so glad you decided to join us,” a familiar male voice said.
    Rebecca turned to see Sandy approach. As opposed to the older group who had dressed up a bit, he wore jeans and a bulky off-white fisherman’s knit sweater. He greeted Candace quickly, then faced Rebecca again. “You seem to be making friends.”
    “Yes. I’m meeting very interesting and nice people,” she said with a smile at Candace who all but had stars in her eyes as she looked at Sandy. School girls swooning over pop idols had nothing on her.
    “Excellent! Well, now that I’m here, it’s time to get started,” Sandy said.
    He began by having them all sit at the table. Rebecca found herself between Donald Luff and Marta Highfield. She noticed that the four Sandoristas present had