Page 39 of The Lady on Esplanade
“Agreed.”
“Who do you think that could be?”I rubbed my arms, which were now covered with goose bumps.
“I don’t know.I’ve only felt him in the house, but he’s pretty much left me alone, I think because of Sybil.She’s protecting me, too.”
“Unless you decide to confront him.”
He gave me a sidelong glance.“Yeah.Unless I confront him.”
“Are those the only spirits in the house?”
He nodded again.“As far as I can tell.Unless there are others who keep hidden because they’re afraid of…whatever that is.”
I thought for a moment.“But that could be good news, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, since you don’t sense Jessica, Lynda, or Mark, they’re possibly still alive, right?”
“Possibly.Or not.Not everyone who dies comes back.Haven’t yet figured out why, but that’s my understanding.”
“There’s only one way to find out for sure.”
He gave me another sidelong glance.“Yeah.I was thinking the same thing.I just don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
“Problems don’t go away just because you ignore them, you know.”
Beau barked out a laugh and edged out of the driveway onto Broadway.“Right.Coming from the poster child of avoiding unpleasant things…Otherwise, we would be talking about Cooper and why you haven’t yet asked him about the angry woman I saw hovering around him.”
“It’s because I haven’t had a chance because he’s been so busy traveling, and then last night…”
“Exactly,” Beau said with infuriating calm.“Because if you really wanted to hear the answer, you’d find a way to ask.”
I started to tell him he was wrong, then stopped, knowing I’d lost the argument before it had even started.
We drove in silence until we’d reached a parking garage in the Quarter, not far from the Past Is Never Past, then walked the short distance to the cathedral and Jackson Square.Despite it being November, the temperature hovered in the mid-sixties, and the blue sky and bright sun promised a beautiful fall day.Vendors had set up shop around the iron fence surrounding General Jackson on his horse, and a few of them had customers getting their silhouettes sketched or having their tarot cards read.It seemed every season in New Orleans was tourist season.
I turned to Beau to ask him about his suggestion that we have coffee and beignets before we met with Madame Zoe, but I stopped midsentence as I followed his gaze to where the fortune teller sat in front of the iron fence.She was perched behind a round table covered with a black satin tablecloth sparkling with scattered glitter that made it mimic the night sky.Two empty chairs sat waiting on the side of the table opposite her.The crystal ball I remembered from my visit with Sarah and Jolene sat in the middle of the table, a shape or movement causing ripples inside the clear glass before vanishing so quickly that I thought I had imagined it.
“That’s Madame Zoe…” I began.
“I know.”He took a step forward, then stopped to look at me.“You coming?”
I nodded, and because it seemed like the right thing to do, I slid my hand into his.He reached into his jeans pocket with his other hand and withdrew a small gold object.When we stood next to the table, he dropped it onto its surface.“I think this is yours?”
She looked up and smiled, showing white, even teeth, not a singleone gold or missing.I wasn’t sure if street performers had benefits, but Madame Zoe definitely visited a dentist on a regular basis.Or maybe I was just projecting my own stereotypes.Or, as Jolene might tell me, I was overthinking so that I could distract myself from facing something unpleasant.
The woman grasped the earring with fingers that had long, manicured nails painted a dark purple.Without expressing surprise at its sudden appearance, she said, “It is.Thank you.”Indicating the two chairs opposite her, she said, “Please sit.”
While we made ourselves comfortable on the too-small wooden folding chairs, Madame Zoe lifted her headscarf and reattached the earring.She shook her head, displaying the matching pair on her ears.
Her dark eyes studied me.“Adele said it would take longer for you to convince Beau to come.”
Beau leaned forward.“You’ve spoken to my mother?”
Their gazes locked.“Yes.The same way she speaks to you.Except you don’t listen.”
His knee bounced against the table, making it shake.It was a nervous habit I’d come to recognize.I placed my hand on his knee, and he stopped.“What did she tell you?”he asked, his tone defiant.
