Free A Grave Prediction (Psychic Eye Mystery) by Victoria Laurie

swung the door all the way open, revealing a room behind the tank with a stairway leading down to what I knew was the wine cellar.
    Every agent standing in the entrance stared at me with mouth agape.
    I made a point of wiping my hands together before walking toward them. As I approached the line of agents, I said triumphantly, “All yours, boys and girls, my work here is done. Anybody needs me, I’ll be in the van getting my Candy Crush on.”
    Booyah!
I thought. I beat my chest twice before giving a peace sign, then passed through the line of stunned agents and yelled, “Cooperout!”

Chapter Four
    •   •   •
    T wo hours and many Candy Crush levels later, Hart opened the van door and peeked in at me. “You hungry?”
    “Freaking famished,” I said with a sigh.
    “Good. I’m taking you out for something to eat. My treat.”
    “I’m totes in for that.” Then I pointed over my shoulder toward the house. “The boys still inside wondering how I did that?”
    Hart chuckled as she settled into the seat next to me. “Yeah. They’re on their way and they haven’t stopped talking about you since you dropped the mic and walked off the stage.”
    I bounced my eyebrows. “I have that effect on the mens.”
    “You don’t say?”
    I sighed dramatically. “It’s a curse.”
    “Robinson hasn’t said a word all afternoon,” she confessed.
    “He strikes me as the strong, stubborn-like-bull type.”
    “I think you really rattled him. And I know you freaked Perez out. Did Rivera tell you that his wife, Chelsea, was the one he gave you for his test case and he didn’t even know she was pregnant until you told him and he made a phone call home?”
    “He told me something about that,” I said.
    Hart shook her head in disbelief. “You’re amazing, Ms. Cooper.”
    “Could you call me Abby?” I asked. I was sick of all this “Ms.” business.
    “I’ll call you Cooper in front of the others, because that’s how we talk, but when it’s just us, I can certainly call you Abby if you’ll call me Kelsey.”
    I put out my hand for her to shake. “Deal.” After we shook on it, I said, “So, Kelsey, how was the wine cellar?”
    She rubbed her hands together. “A gold mine! Not only did we find evidence that Grecco is creating forged labels for the wine stored down there, passing off what looks like cheap homemade vino as rare bottles of some of the world’s most expensive wines, but we also found a journal that might actually be a record of Grecco’s sales in stolen art. It’s mostly written in shorthand, but some of the names he listed in the journal match with who we suspect had purchased stolen art from him. I’ll have my analyst look at it and try to pin down the shorthand, but we should be able to put Grecco away for a long time.”
    “Congratulations!” I told her, feeling genuinely happy for the big win she’d be bringing home to Rivera.
    “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said. “That whole thing you did in there with the hidden panel, like you knew exactly where the wine cellar was all along—that was amazing.”
    I felt my cheeks heat with a blush. “It wasn’t that hard,” I said. “I mean, you guys probably would’ve figured it out soon enough.”
    “No, Abby,” she insisted. “And that’s the point. The search warrant was only good for five hours and none of us even took much stock of the room you led us to. We kept looking aroundthe perimeter, not the middle of the house, for the entry to the wine cellar.”
    “It makes sense to put it in the middle of the house,” I said. “It’d be the most stable place given California’s earthquakes, right?”
    She shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not a structural engineer, but that makes sense. Anyway, I don’t think we would’ve found it in the time allotted. You saved my ass in there and I owe you.”
    “Happy to help,” I said, and I was kind of surprised to discover that I actually
was
happy to have helped.
    The door