Page 40 of It takes a Psychic

Chapter Seventeen

Leona waited to call Charlotteand Eugenie until she was in her bedroom, throwing clothes and travel gear into a small suitcase. Her messenger bag with the pyramid crystal tucked inside was on the bed next to the open suitcase.

She put the phone on speaker, set it on the bedside table, and opened a drawer to grab some underwear.

“Good news,” she said, setting the panties in the suitcase. “We’ve got a lead on the pyramid crystal.”

“We?”Charlotte said.

“Oliver Rancourt traced the murdered woman to a town called Lost Creek in the Mirage Mountains. We are driving there this afternoon to see what we can find in the way of answers.”

There was a short, sharp beat of silence.

“Let me get this straight,” Eugenie said. “Are you telling us that you and Rancourt are working together on this project?”

“As he pointed out, our agendas are aligned,” Leona said, trying to sound assured and determined. Professional.

“You hardly know the man,” Charlotte said.

“I’m not dating him,” Leona said. “We’re temporary colleagues. He was already planning to go to Lost Creek to view an Old World document he wants to acquire for his museum. The only difference is that I’m going with him. Let’s face it, it’s not like I’ve got anything more pressing to do. I’m currently unemployed, remember?”

“Don’t remind us,” Eugenie said. “How is Rancourt going to explain your presence?”

“Relax, Mom. I’m going as his consultant, not his girlfriend. The plan is to tell the collector and anyone else who asks that I was hired to authenticate the document. There is absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“A woman was murdered last night,” Charlotte said.

“The FBPI and the cops are on that case,” Leona said quickly. “Oliver and I are not involved. Our interest is in the pyramid crystal. We’re not trying to solve a murder. Look, I’ve got to run. Long drive ahead. Oh, by the way, according to the maps, our mobile phones won’t work once we’re in the Mirage Mountains—too much energy in the area—but there’s a landline at the inn where we’ll be staying. I’ll give you the number.”

She read it off the screen of her phone.

“Got it,” Eugenie said. “Listen, I know this trip is important to you, but I agree with Charlotte. I’m not at all sure this is a good idea.”

“It’s the only lead we’ve got,” Leona said. “And I repeat, it’s just a research trip. I do those all the time down in the tunnels.”

“This is different,” Charlotte insisted.

“Not really,” Leona said. “And there’s something else to consider. I’m thinking of setting myself up as a private antiquities consultant. Rancourt has agreed to let me list his museum as a client in any promo I decide to do. That will make for a good launch for my business.”

“I seem to recall an old legend about Lost Creek,” Charlotte said slowly. “Something to do with Vincent Lee Vance.”

“Rancourt mentioned that.” Leona reminded herself that the nights would probably be chilly in the mountains. She went back to the drawer to pick up her flannel pajamas. “Evidently the collector we’re going to see specializes in Vincent Lee Vance and Era of Discord materials.”

She turned to carry the pajamas to the suitcase but paused at the sight of the dainty pink vibrator in the drawer. Why was she even thinking about packing it? She definitely would not need it. This was a business trip, not a romantic getaway.

She shut the drawer very firmly and dropped the pajamas into the suitcase.

“I did a little more research on Rancourt,” Eugenie said. “On the plus side, there’s no indication that he’s a serial killer.”

“Good to know,” Leona said. “A woman can’t be too careful.”

She studied the contents of the suitcase, wondering what she had forgotten. There was always something. She was accustomed to packing for an expedition into the Underworld—she had a checklist—but a road trip to the Mirage Mountains with a man who was very much a stranger was an entirely different matter.

“He’s got a couple of advanced degrees—one in the history of the Era of Discord and another in para-archaeology. He is one of a handful of experts who specialize in Old World antiquities with a paranormal provenance. He’s been involved with the Rancourt Museum for his entire career. On the surface he looks a little boring.”

“I told you, he’s harmless,” Leona said. Mentally she crossed her fingers behind her back. Whatever else he was, Oliver Rancourt was not boring.

“He sounds like he may be the obsessive type when it comes to his work,” Eugenie warned.

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