Not in the Cards Read online

  “It was similar to last time—someone from his past set him up out of spite, he fears the loss of financial stability, and he needs to use logic and draw on his friends to figure it out. His fortunes are changing, but if he makes the right decision—and doesn’t base it on material gain—his life is going to be amazing.”

  “How did he react?”

  “He made a juvenile, but hilarious joke, and asked me out again. We’re having drinks tomorrow night.”

  “But how did he react to the reading?” Misty pressed.

  “He didn’t, really. I think he wanted time to process. When he left my shop, Aaron was waiting. He is being creepy. They argued, and I overheard part of it. And this is where it gets weird…”

  “Right,” Ceri said dryly. “Everything about this situation has been perfectly normal up to this point.”

  Sandy grinned. “Yep. Nothing weird about real psychics doing real fortune telling with really hot guys. Anyway, Vincent and Aaron know each other. Vincent used to be his boss, and Aaron hates him. Has for ages. I used to have to hear him bitch about his boss all the time. He never called him by his name, just referred to him as ‘that asshole I work for’ or variations thereof, so I didn’t make the connection until I heard them argue. But the beginning of the argument, the part I only caught a couple words of, Vincent accused Aaron of having ‘something to do with it.’ And earlier, when Aaron was being a douche outside, I wondered about all of Aaron’s new money. We were comfortable before, but Aaron always wanted more. It wasn’t worth it if it wasn’t the most expensive, and now he has so many nice things. Either he’s running his credit cards into the ground, or he’s come into some serious cash.

  “So, my mind made the leap—a leap for which I have zero proof—that maybe the money that went missing ended up in Aaron’s pocket and not Vincent’s.”

  Silence descended over the group, and Sandy used the lull to pour another glass of champagne.

  “It fits,” Misty said. “If I could get my hands on him, just for a minute, I’d probably be able to confirm it.”

  “And then what?” Ceri said. “We still have no proof.”

  “Vincent’s cards said we need to use logic and the help of his friends to figure this out. He’ll have to be in charge of the logic and proof-finding, but we have the power to determine who’s guilty. We’ll just need to get him on board with our plan. This is where you come in, Sandy. Tomorrow night isn’t just drinks, it’s drinks and a conspiracy,” Misty said.

  “And now for the truly important agenda item,” Drew said. “What are we going to dress up as for the Oracle Bay Halloween party?”

  Sandy pressed her hands down over her skirt. She had no reason to be this nervous for a second date, but butterflies were practicing their flight patterns in her stomach.

  “It’ll be fine. Everything will be fine,” she chanted as she regarded herself in the mirror. She grabbed her makeup bag, put on mascara and a dark red lip gloss, and pursed her lips at her reflection. “You look good. You don’t need more makeup to look attractive.” She grimaced as echoes of the past swam up to try to drown her in self-doubt.

  There was a knock on the door, and she jumped. Usually, people just walked in announced by the bell and screeching hinges. Knocking was weird.

  “It is a date,” she reminded herself. She checked her reflection one last time, grabbed her jacket and purse, and headed down to answer the door.

  Vincent was waiting, but instead of the suit she’d grown accustomed to seeing him in, he was wearing jeans and button-down shirt.

  “You look good,” he said, taking in her gray, flowing skirt and skin-hugging, ruby-red sweater.

  “So do you,” Sandy said. “I didn’t think you even owned jeans.”

  “I only pull them out for special occasions.”

  “This is a special occasion?”

  “It’s a second date, and I’m taking you to a bar with a punny name. What could be more special than that?”

  “Everything has a punny name around here. I think it’s a city ordinance.”

  He laughed. “Misty suggested a cocktail bar next to the bookstore called ‘Olive or Twist.’”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Sandy said. “I’d drink there. But which punny bar are you taking me to tonight?”

  “Pour House Brewing.”

  “Ohhh, I haven’t been there yet, but I’m supposed to get in touch with the owner to see if he’ll once again provide the beer for the Autumn Bazaar.”

  “What is the Autumn Bazaar? I’ve seen signs up.”

  “As far as I can tell, it’s a harvest festival, bake-off, and general town party held the weekend before Thanksgiving. The bake-off is very competitive, but Bill Walters wins every year.”

  “Bill Walters?”

  “The guy who runs Caffiend Dreams? All the baked goods there are his own creations.”

  “Wow, no wonder he wins. Everything there is delicious,” Vincent said. “Do you want to walk or drive?”

  “It’s a nice night and it can’t be more than a mile. Let’s walk.”

  They chatted about inconsequential things while they walked, although Sandy had trouble keeping her mind on the conversation, so paranoid was she by the idea that Aaron might be watching them.

  “Is something wrong?” Vincent asked after her third ‘hmmm?’

  “Nervous a bit,” she confessed. “I keep expecting my ex to appear.”

  “Forget about him for a bit. We’re almost there, and we can have an Aaron-free evening with some good beers, great company, and—I’m lacking another ‘G’ adjective—delightful conversation.”

  She smiled up at him. “I will do my best. I came here to escape my past, so it’s disconcerting when it shows up unannounced and uninvited.”

  “I’ll see what I can do to distract you, then.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering against her neck a moment longer than necessary.

  Heat suffused her center, and she thought, I really need to get laid at some point.

  They entered the brewery, and she was immediately enchanted. The tables were all irregularly shaped, polished wood that was a shade darker than the hardwood floors. The high ceilings had a gorgeous mural of dozens of large, black birds with piercing red eyes, and the walls were softened with too-large-to-be-real black feathers.

  “Welcome to the Pour House,” the host said as they walked in. “Two of you tonight?”

  Sandy answered in the affirmative.

  “There are a couple of spots at the bar, or I can seat you in a booth inside or at a table outside. It’s right by the fire pit and the heat lamp, so you should be warm enough, and it looks like a storm is brewing off the coast.”

  “Is the inside booth by one of the windows overlooking the ocean?” Vincent asked.

  “It is.”

  “Then we’ll watch the storm from inside.”

  After they were seated, the host said, “You’re in luck tonight. Andy himself will be your server. This is one of two tables he likes to take care of.”

  “Thank you,” Vincent said.

  They perused the drinks menu in silence. It was less than five minutes before Andy showed up.

  “Welcome to the Pour House, home of devilishly good brews. I’m Andy Sterling, owner, brewmaster, and your server this evening. What can I get you?”

  “I’ll have the Saint Peter’s Pilsner,” Vincent said.

  “And I’ll go for the Broken Halo Bitter.”

  “Excellent choices, both. Of course, I have to say that. I made them. Will you be ordering food tonight, or just indulging in the devil’s brew?”

  “Just drinks for now,” Vincent said.

  “Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll be around. Gotta mingle and keep my customers happy.”

  “If you have a few moments later, I’d love to talk to you about the Bazaar,” Sandy said.

  He peered at her more closely. “You’re the new one, aren’t you? You can tell Misty that I’ll prov
ide the beer like I do every year. She only sent you to me to intimidate you.”

  “Is that part of your job?” Vincent asked, looking at Andy.

  The man grinned, and something about him raised the hackles on the back of Sandy’s neck. “Not anymore,” he said. “I’m semi-retired.”

  “From what?” Sandy wanted to know.

  He winked at her and said, “I’ll be right back with those drinks. First round is on the house.”

  As he walked away, Sandy shivered.

  “What’s up?” Vincent asked.

  “I don’t know. Something about him activates every last flight instinct I have,” Sandy said when she was certain he was out of earshot.

  “I have that effect on people,” his voice drifted across the bar. “Well, fight or flight, anyway.” He laughed, and Sandy shivered again.

  “Do you want to leave?” Vincent asked, a note of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

  “No. If I ran every time someone in Oracle Bay gave me the willies, I’d be so far out of town by now that all that’d be left of me would be a cutout of my shape on my front door, Wile E. Coyote style.”

  “Okay then. Let’s pledge to have a good time.”

  “I’ll do my best, but I do have to talk to you about something serious.”

  Vincent’s expression shuttered. “I don’t want to talk about my problems.”

  “Ordinarily, I’d respect your wishes in this, but I can’t let it go when it affects me, too.”

  He waved his hand dismissively. “I’m doing my best to find a way out of this that doesn’t involve selling the town.”

  “And how’s that going?”

  His silence was answer enough.

  “That’s not what I meant, anyway. Besides selling the business and apartment that I sunk the bulk of my remaining savings into, I’m involved because of Aaron.” She watched him carefully for any show of emotion. A faint tightening around his mouth and eyes were all that gave him away. “You think he was involved somehow, and I agree.”

  “You do? What? How? Why?”

  “He hates you and would do about anything to get rid of you. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but he’s the intern from the readings, the one from your past who is showing up in your recent past as a trickster. I’m almost positive. His new car is too expensive, and he was always obsessed with material wealth. He tried to convince me to come back to him by saying we’d never want for anything again, which proves he knows me even less well than I thought. There are too many coincidences for him not to be involved.”

  “It can’t be him, though,” Vincent said. “As much as I want to lay the blame at his feet. It had to have been someone in IT. It wasn’t until I ordered an audit of everyone’s computers and email that everything came to light. The only people who knew I was suspicious were the two junior people in IT that I went to to request the audit.”

  Chapter Nine

  Sandy went for a walk on her lunch break. She’d flipped her sign off, pulled on a windbreaker, grabbed a thermos of tea, and headed to the beach. Ostensibly, she was enjoying some fresh air while the rains held off for a few more days. In actuality, she was hoping to catch Aaron’s eye.

  She looked at her phone to double-check that the voice recording function was ready to go. She was going to get Aaron to admit his role—whatever it was—in the embezzlement scheme. After getting Vincent firmly on her side last night—the psychics were already on board—they’d hatched a rudimentary plan. Aaron was clever, but not smart. His ego often ruled his head, and he could be easily manipulated because of it.

  She figured a little—she swallowed hard—groveling and flirting on her part, and he’d be ready to confess to everything, just to impress her. But first, she had to find him in a way that seemed natural. He had to know she’d never call him, and the thought of it was a bit gag-inducing anyway. This was going to push her limited acting skills to the very edge of plausibility, but if it cleared the name of an innocent man and took punishment of the guilty one step further, then she would do it.

  She mentally steeled herself and chanted under her breath every mantra she had for dealing with Aaron. As if she’d been summoning a demon instead of shoring up her self-esteem, he appeared beside her.

  “Taking a break?” he asked.

  It didn’t require an answer, but since she was supposed to be flirting, she pasted a smile on her face, pointed it at him, and said, “Enjoying the dry weather and the autumn ocean. You?”

  “Enjoying the beauty,” he leered at her, checking out her faintly visible cleavage.

  Her stomach clenched, but she powered through. “How long are you in town?”

  “I have a goal—well, two goals now—so it depends on how quickly those goals are met.”

  “What are they?”

  He smiled again, and the expression made her want to wash her hands. “I think I’d prefer to keep them close to my chest. After all, as you’ve repeatedly pointed out to me, we aren’t together anymore, so I don’t need to share information.”

  She mentally kicked herself for not doing a better job of priming the flirting pump earlier in the week. But honestly, how could’ve she known it’d come to this? “You’re right. I did say those things. Maybe I was a little…hasty. I’m sorry if I hurt you.” The last words almost stuck in her throat and came out a little too thin.

  He peered at her suspiciously and she smiled again, trying to draw on a happy memory to make it sincere. The first one that came to mind was her good-night with Vincent the night before, and the smile that spread across her face was a bit dreamy, a lot wistful, and a tinge of lustful.

  “I know you are, babe,” Aaron said. “You were just angry at me, and it’s okay to be mad. If the situation was reversed, I’d be mad, too.”

  Sandy tried to inject a tremulous note into her voice when she asked, “Are you still seeing…her?”

  “Oh, no. Of course not! It was a one-time thing and a total accident. I was working late like I told you, and she came into the office to install some new software.” New hardware is more like it, Sandy snarked to herself. “I ran to the break room to grab a cup of coffee while she worked, and when I came back, she was naked. What was I supposed to do? She came onto me, and I couldn’t help it.”

  It took every ounce of willpower she had to keep the looks of skepticism and disgust off her face.

  “That does sound difficult,” she commiserated. “But if you promise it was a one-time thing…”

  If she ended up having to postpone her divorce over this, a lot of people were going to owe her big.

  “I swear, babe. If you want, I could probably get her fired so I never have to work with her again.”

  “That might be taking it a bit far,” Sandy said. “You’ve promised it only happened once, and I know you won’t let it happen again, right?” Of course, the evidence I found when cleaning out the house suggests otherwise, but let’s see how big of a liar you actually are.

  “It was just that one time, I swear it. She came onto me. I would never do anything to hurt you, babe.”

  Every babe stabbed a little bit further into her soul. She never realized how much she truly hated that endearment until the hard ‘b’ flicked a bit of spittle on her face.

  “I don’t know…” she tried for a note of hesitancy mingled with longing, but when anger flashed across his face, she wondered if she’d gotten it wrong. Neither lying nor acting were in her wheelhouse.

  The anger was gone almost before she’d had a chance to work through all the ways she might’ve said something wrong.

  “How about I take you out to dinner—I can afford much nicer places than that other guy—and once we’re out, having fun, you’ll remember why you married me in the first place. What do you say? Dinner with me tomorrow night? We can drive to Olympia, have a romantic dinner, maybe spend the night in a bed and breakfast?”

  “That’s moving a little fast for me,” Sandy interrupted before he could take the o
vernight trip idea any further. “Why don’t we go to the Italian place in Long Beach, have dinner, and then go our separate ways—at least this time.”

  “You always were a slow mover,” he said, and even though he smiled, she didn’t think it was a compliment. “But, it’s a deal. I know how to charm you—I’ve had years of practice.”

  Sandy plastered a smile on her face. “I’m looking forward to seeing if you still remember your old moves.”

  After she’d finally ditched Aaron, who kept trying to make bigger and more grandiose plans that involved overnight trips, she stopped into Caffiend Dreams for another coffee.

  “Back so soon?” Bill asked.

  “Rough morning,” she said before remembering that her advances on Aaron were supposed to seem genuine to the gossipy townspeople of Oracle Bay. She couldn’t have it getting back to Aaron that she wasn’t sincere. “You know how it is when you run into an ex before you’ve had enough caffeine. All the feelings you work to suppress rise to the surface, and next thing you know, you’ve made a dinner date.”

  The bells over the door jangled, and Drew walked in.

  “Yeah, I know what it’s like,” Bill said, not looking at Sandy. “Problem is, sometimes there’s never enough caffeine.”

  “For what?” Drew asked.

  “For days like this,” Sandy replied. “Quad shot Americano with room, please, Bill.”

  “Already started, Sandy. I know your drink.”

  “Someday I’m gonna come in here and order a nonfat soy latte with peppermint syrup, and you won’t know what to do.”

  “The first thing I’ll do is check to make sure you weren’t an alien.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Other than the obvious coffee order, I’d have to look at your eyes. Dead giveaway every time. So, if you order that drink and are wearing sunglasses, I’d know.” He grinned at her, but the smile didn’t go all the way to his eyes. He turned to finish making her drink, then handed it to her with a flourish. “That’ll be five dollars.”

  Sandy ran her card, then took her Americano over to add cream.