Page 6 of Shift of Destiny
On the other hand, a job was a job, and she needed the money for immediate transportation out of town if, or more depressingly likely,whenWitzer found her. She took consolation in the fact that on the walk from Tinsel’s, she’d seen a dozen businesses advertising everything from psychic readings and séances, to a Hobgoblin Accounting Service, all in keeping with the town’s tourist theme. Maybe Kotoyeesinay was the summer home for psychics and magical entertainers, sort of like Florida used to be for circus performers. If Witzer did track her to Kotoyeesinay, with luck, he’d be slowed down by the distraction of shiny new psychics to try.
She shook off her doubts, squared her shoulders, and made herself go up the steps to the tall, two-story, Swiss-style chalet with a steep, decorated roof, and red-and-white detailing. It was well kept, with classic 1920s construction details, which made her wonder how old the town was. It had the most eclectic mix of architectural styles she’d ever seen.
Turn of the Cards turned out to be a bookstore and gift shop that specialized in all things psychic, with an emphasis on divination cards. Shelves, tables, and antique display cases showed off crystals, wands, and pyramids, plus a dazzling array of jewelry. The store carried at least twenty different tarot decks, from the classic Rider-Waite to modern, limited-edition decks by modern fantasy artists. She admired the skill and patience it must have taken to create seventy-eight steampunk paintings to make up a deck. The orderly display arrangements drew the eye but didn’t overwhelm. The impressive book section had a couple of soft chairs to make it cozier. The store was neither too hot nor too cold. It took her a few minutes to realize it was deserted.
She threaded her way to the antique-glass sales counter with the modern digital pay station. A thick curtain of beads hung in the frame of a doorway behind it. “Hello?”
“Coming,” shouted a man’s voice from within.
She heard footsteps on stairs. Suddenly, a little white kitten burst through the beads and ran at light speed toward the store’s front door. Fortunately, she’d closed it after letting herself in, or the kitten would have been halfway to the highway by the time an elderly man with round glasses and a shock of white hair made it to the counter. “Pandora! Come here at once.”
The kitten pawed a couple of times at the door, scampered sideways, then made a beeline for Moira’s feet. Instead of diverting at the last second, Pandora launched herself up Moira’s pant leg and used her needle-sharp claws to climb higher. “Oh no you don’t.” Moira caught the little terror before her hoodie or her favorite red-paisley blouse got permanently ventilated. The kitten mewed twice, then relaxed when Moira nestled its soft, warm body into the crook of her arm. She tickled the kitten’s belly, and was rewarded with play bites.
“Please accept my apologies, madam.” His British accent went well with his maroon damask smoking jacket and brown velvet pants. “Mr. Houdini would envy her escape-artist talents.”
Moira laughed. “She’s precious.” She tickled Pandora’s belly again and let her gnaw on the tip of her little finger. “I think kittens only have three speeds. Sleep, eat, and warp factor ten.”
“You’re familiar with the species, then,” he said indulgently. “How may I help you?”
“Are you Mr. Maxen? Aurelio at the Blue Fairy Diner said you might have a job opening.”
He nodded. “You must be Ms. Graham. I am indeed in need of help with the shop.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “And kittens.”
Moira was touched to realize Aurelio had gone to all that effort for her, a perfect stranger. “I’m a good worker and reliable, and I know something about the tarot decks, but I have to be honest with you, I don’t believe in any of the supernatural stuff in this shop.” Moira lowered her voice to a confidential whisper. “I’m not sure I’d be a good salesperson.”
Mr. Maxen gave her an amused look. “I don’t believe in it, either.”
“Huh,” she said, nonplussed.
“Fortunately, the customers don’t seem to notice. They usually already know what they want.” He fixed her with a direct gaze. “And what do you want, Ms. Graham?” A glint from his glasses dazzled her momentarily.
She considered giving him a vaguely pleasant answer, but she had the feeling it would annoy him. “To make enough cash to buy a new engine for my car, so I can leave.”
“Nothing permanent, then.” He frowned.
She sighed and shook her head. So much for this job. “No, sorry. I’m just passing through.” She needed a couple more random stops like Kotoyeesinay to throw off her pursuers. Too bad, because she liked Mr. Maxen, even though she’d just met him, and thought she’d have enjoyed working for him. For some reason, she felt like she owed him an explanation. “The last time I got mixed up with fortune-telling, it brought me a load of trouble. I need to keep moving.” Little Pandora had become a boneless, snoozy fluffball in her arm. “What should I do with your kitten?”
“Would you mind terribly if I asked you to come in the back with me and put her in her bed? She behaves far better with you than me.”
“Sure.” She walked slowly around the counter, taking care not to knock anything over with her backpack. Mr. Maxen pushed aside the beads for her, then pointed to a mahogany 1930s Art Moderne desk with a round hatbox on top that contained a cushion covered with a leopard-print blanket. She gently slid the kitten from her arm onto the soft blanket. Pandora stretched her tiny pink toes and claws out, then relaxed into slumber.
The office area looked like it might have been the house’s original central hallway, with stairs leading up. She touched the edge of the warm brown wood of a stair tread, admiring the matching baluster and handrail above it. She imagined the front sales floor had once been the living room, dining room, and parlor. With the bedrooms upstairs, it would have been a cozy house for a young family, back in its day. If she’d had a more normal life, or at least, didn’t have an obsessed billionaire chasing her around the country, she could see herself lovingly restoring an old house like this one. Maybe she could hire a hot handyman to help her. She laughed at her fancy.
She turned to go, only to find Mr. Maxen giving her a speculative look. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by a ringing phone, a buzzer, and a tinkling of bells that meant the store’s front door had opened. Laughter and voices suggested the retail area now had multiple customers.
Mr. Maxen looked both exasperated and slightly overwhelmed.
Moira needed to keep looking for a paying job, but she could stay for a little longer. “I know you don’t know me, but would you like me to go out front, just to keep an eye on things until you get there?”
He sighed. “Yes, if you would.”
She started for the doorway, then stopped long enough to drop her backpack under a tall mirror with a gilded frame. The hallway felt safe enough, and customers would think it strange if she wore a backpack while minding the store. At least her mirror-embroidered hoodie fit right in with the decor. Mr. Maxen picked up the phone and answered it as she pushed her way through the curtain of beads.
She used crossing to the entrance to make sure the front door was closed as a cover for taking a quick headcount of the three adults and two children who were now wandering the store. The balding man with glasses made a beeline for the bookshelves, once he saw them. The two round-faced, plump women looked enough alike to be sisters, and they chatted easily as they stopped at anything shiny. The two boys, who were maybe ten and twelve years old, looked disgruntled, as if they’d hoped for cheesy puffs and had gotten carrots instead. They needed entertainment, or they’d make their own, at the expense of the store’s beautiful displays.
“Hi,” she said to the two women as she walked back toward the counter. “Could I enlist your children to help look for a kitten? She might be hiding in here somewhere, and she’ll cause trouble if we don’t find her.”
The woman in a robin’s-egg blue summer dress turned to the boys. “Ethan, Noah, help the lady find her kitten.” She gave them a warning look. “Look with your eyes, not your hands.”
