Free Relative Malice by Marla Madison, Madison

mean?”
    Brynn sipped her tea. “The day I moved in, an old lady came to the door. I guess she didn’t see very well because she thought I was Vadoma. I explained who I was, but her hearing wasn’t too good, either. She begged me to do a reading for her. She wanted to know when she was going to ‘pass’ and told me that was what Vadoma did for people.”
    A fortune-telling death-predictor? Too weird. “How did you know what to do?”
    “I told her I didn’t know how, but she started crying, so I brought her inside and made her tea. She told me she needed to know when she was going to die because she wanted to plan her funeral and get her will in order.”
    Intrigued with the story, Kendall realized it had taken the fortune-telling experience to get Brynn talking. “Then what happened?”
    “I told her again I wasn’t a card reader, but she said it didn’t matter, because the cards read themselves. She said Vadoma’s spirit was still here and would help us. She told me how to shuffle and spread the cards.”
    “Did you have a Tarot deck?”
    “No. Vadoma didn’t use a Tarot deck. I used a deck of cards I found in the secretary desk.”
    “But how did you interpret the cards?”
    “I didn’t. I just told her the cards didn’t say exactly when it would happen,
    but they said she should be prepared.”
    Kendall was impressed by Brynn’s compassion for the woman. “You told her what she wanted to hear. She was okay with that?”
    “That made her happy. She made me take fifty dollars.”
    “So that’s how death became your specialty?
    “Yes. I needed the money, so when other people came by, I told them I was taking Vadoma’s place. They mostly asked questions about death. And Vadoma, Ethel, had a journal with notes about the cards. It was easy.”
    Brynn quickly picked up their cups without offering a refill. Apparently, she’d reached her limit of extended conversation. She edged toward the door, sending Kendall the message it was time to leave. Though wanting to hear more about Brynn’s transformation into Madam Vadoma’s replacement, Kendall figured that could wait. In the meantime, she’d run a background on the younger woman.
    Brynn flipped up the hood of her sweatshirt, covering her white hair. “I have to go for my walk now.”
    A walk this late at night? Kendall stepped into the hall, holding back a police officer’s caution about walking alone after dark.
    “Morrie has dollar-burgers on Monday nights. Until ten,” Brynn said.
    A bit of information she hadn’t even asked for. “Good to know.”
    Kendall entered her apartment thinking there really wasn’t much she could do with Brynn’s story. But she would have to find out how Brynn knew something was going to happen to the Glaussons before the murders took place. She was pretty sure Madam Vadoma hadn’t told her.

    When Brynn left the building, the temperature had dropped. She felt the chill through her sweat suit and picked up her pace. She hated leaving Malkin alone so soon after bringing him into a strange home, but he seemed content.
    She welcomed the darkness; daylight bothered her weakly pigmented eyes. Her vision wasn’t 20-20, but she didn’t need to wear prescription glasses. Nighttime was her friend. She blended in after sundown when no one noticed her unorthodox appearance.
    Kendall seemed nice, but she asked too many questions. Brynn wasn’t used to people asking personal questions—it made her nervous.

    Kendall’s cell phone buzzed as she was about to take a shower. She didn’t recognize the number. “Halsrud.”
    “It’s me, Hank.”
    “You shouldn’t be on the phone.; you just had surgery.”
    “I snagged the wife’s cell phone—I can’t talk long.”
    “How are you doing?”
    “Just peachy. I’ve got a zipper in my chest and a tube up my dick, how do you think I’m doing? Tell me about the case, but keep it short.”
    “Tarkowski thinks it might be the same perps here that did the invasions in