Free A Murder in Mohair by Anne Canadeo Page A

pleased. And productive,” she replied.
    â€œI feel that. You’re doing good, sharing your gift. Good spirits are drawn to this place, and are helping you.”
    â€œReally? Like little guardian knitting angels, do you mean? What a nice thought.” Maggie’s tone was light. Not sarcastic, but almost. She took her seat, opposite Cassandra. Lucy and Phoebe sat on one long side of the table, while Suzanne and Dana sat on the other.
    Cassandra reached into the bag again and pulled out a bunch of dried leaves tied together with string. She lit the candle first with a wooden match, then lit the bunch of leaves and walked slowly around the table, fanning the smoke up to the ceiling and down to the floor.
    â€œI’m just clearing the energy. Nothing to be concerned about. Perhaps some of you are a little anxious about our meeting?” she suggested. “It’s like static on a radio station. We won’t be able to tune in clearly if I don’t clear this off.”
    Edie had been right, it did smell like a bathing suit fell in a campfire. Lucy tried not to breathe too deeply while Suzanne coughed and covered her mouth with her hand.
    â€œI’d better get a drink of water. Be back in a sec.” Suzanne began to rise but Cassandra pressed her shoulder back into the chair.
    â€œI’d rather you didn’t right now. You’ll break the circle. I just secured our auras.”
    Cassandra gave her a stern look and Suzanne made herself tiny in her chair. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”
    â€œThat’s all right.” Cassandra’s hand slipped gently from Suzanne’s shoulder and she stood at the head of the table again. “Can we dim these lights a bit? It will be easier to concentrate.”
    â€œThe switch is right behind you. It’s a dimmer by the doorway,” Maggie told her.
    The light above the table was dimmed and then dimmed again. Darker than you’d set it for a dinner party, Lucy thought. Is that how she gets away with her tricks? Because you can’t see what she’s doing?
    The candle glowed brighter and Lucy found herself focusing on the shimmering flame. She looked up at the faces of her friends, cast now in shadow.
    â€œI’d like you to relax and clear your mind as best as you can. Focus on the candle and the sound of my voice,” Cassandra instructed, her tone as smooth as silk. “Take in a deep breath and, very slowly, out again. Once more,” she coaxed. Like a yoga instructor, Lucy thought. There was silence for a moment. All Lucy could hear was the sound of her friends, breathing in and out.
    Then Suzanne yawned loudly. “Oh geez . . . sorry. It’s been a long day.”
    Phoebe muffled a laugh, but Cassandra ignored the interruptions. “Put both of your hands out on the table, palms flat, spread your fingers, thumbs touching. Let’s make a circle of our hands, that’s right, just connect, pinky to pinky,” she instructed.
    Lucy and her friends all did the same, making a circle of their hands on the table. Lucy heard Phoebe muffle a giggle again and it nearly started her snickering, too. But she managed to keep a lid on it.
    â€œClose your eyes and focus on your questions, the questions that have brought you to this place, this moment. It’s no accident that you’re here tonight, in this circle of energy, seeking answers. . . .”
    Lucy thought of her questions. She couldn’t help it, reminding herself at the same time that the woman was a total phony. Still, the questions rose in her mind’s eye, like squadron jets in an air show, twisting and turning, looping across a clear blue sky. Skywriting in big, puffy letters: Will Matt ever propose? Do I have to force that stupid conversation? Will we ever get married? Have a baby? Live happily ever after?
    Cassandra let out a long, noisy breath, and spoke with her eyes closed, her hands still stretched on the