As the distressed damsel returned to her seat, chewing furiously on a wad of gum, Regan heard her mumble, “Ah, what the hell does she know?” But she looked concerned. Poor guy, Regan thought. He probably put his life savings into that ring and will never get it back if his betrothed decides to heed the advice of Madame Spoker.

Next up, from the back of the room, came Immaculata Buttacavola. Nervously she took her place.

Madame Spoker beamed as she finally doled out some good news. “I think there’s going to be an addition to your family very soon. In the next year, I’d say.”

Immaculata clapped her hands and cried out, “My daughter-in-law Roz missed a period right before we left on our trip. Maybe they’ll have an announcement when we get back.” She got up from the chair. “Thank you, Madame, thank you,” she gushed as she hurried to the back of the room. “Mario, I told you we should have bought that adorable baby T-shirt with the ship’s insignia. Let’s rush and see if they’ve got any left.”

Veronica turned to Regan. “Isn’t that lovely? I wonder what they’ll name it.”

Almost time for a new family portrait at Sears, Regan thought.

Veronica continued, “Regan, you haven’t had your chance yet. Madame Spoker ...”

“Of course. Miss, please join me.”

Well at least she didn’t call me ma’am, Regan thought as she got up and handed over her question.

Madame Spoker closed her eyes and started to hum, a low-grade staccato noise that sounded like an engine in trouble. Regan waited, wondering what she would “feel” for a question about a murderer.

“Something is close ... I feel like you are closer to something or someone than you ever suspected. But there is danger. Stay out of harm’s way.” Madame Spoker rolled the paper around and around in the palm of her hand, the momentum increasing with the fluttering of her manicured fingers. She cried out, “Ouch. Damn it, I got a paper cut. They take so long to go away.” Shaking her head, she resumed her humming.

A moment later her hand sprang open. Desperately she tried to close it over the folded question but her fingers seemed to be frozen. The scrap fell to the floor. The psychic jumped back from it as if it were a ticking bomb and started to shake. “I have never lost control of a question before. The power and vibrations coming from that little square of a dead tree are threatening to overwhelm me. Miss, you have asked a very serious question and I must warn you . . . you cannot be too careful. Dangerous people surround you. You will find what you are looking for, but the cost may be too great.”

Regan fervently wished her mother had opted for the two-thirty bridge lecture.

Chapter 29