Elaine Viets & Victoria Laurie, Nancy Martin, Denise Swanson - Drop-Dead Blonde (v5.0) (pdf) by Unknown (howl and other poems .TXT) 📕

the eleva- tor, where Cat pressed the down button. While we were waiting I asked, ``So how long is this little soiree supposed to last tonight?'' BLIND SIGHTED 265

``Three hours,'' Cat answered.

``Three hours? What the hell is she going to talk about for three whole hours?''

``Well, there's an hour-and-a-half lecture, then an hour and a half of audience readings.''

``Audience readings?'' I asked, perking up.

``Yeah, according to the information sheet, Deirdre is going to cruise the audience and give out messages to people.''

``Hmmm,'' I said thoughtfully. Even though I wasn't in- terested in the topical portion of the evening, it still might be cool to watch another professional at work. I mean, maybe she had a technique I could use for my own clients.

Just then two more people joined us in the hallway. I turned to my right as they came into my peripheral vision, and caught my breath. Standing right next to Cat was the same buxom blonde and her son whom I'd met at the air- port. Quickly I ducked my head, hoping Celeste wouldn't recognize me and lavish me with another taste of her frosty attitude.

To my relief the elevator doors finally opened, and I followed Cat into the boxcar with head bent and eyes on the floor. Celeste was too consumed with inspecting her manicure even to acknowledge us, and I was grateful that we would probably make this descent in silence.

One floor down the elevator stopped, and the doors opened onto a small group of hotel guests. As the first in the group stepped forward, I did a double take when I realized Deirdre Pendleton was about to stand right next to me. Although I'd never seen her in person, it wasn't hard to recognize her as the woman from the picture on the signage downstairs.

Deirdre was taller than I expected, close to five-ten by my estimate. She had light, wavy brown hair with small traces of gray streaming through the blend. Her face was deeply tanned, and lined more than it should have been for a woman her age. Her eyes were dark green, and her features fine and feminine. She wore a long, flowing gown of canary yellow belted by a gold cord about her waist that billowed when she moved. The cut and style of the gown reminded me of something out of the Middle Ages.

She was flanked by a tall, balding man in a tweed blazer 266 Victoria Laurie and with beady little eyes, and two women who bore a striking resemblance to the Peace Twins my sister and I had encountered earlier in the day while waiting for the elevator. They also wore tie-dyed dresses, with bangles and sandals, and kept their eyes adoringly on Deirdre.

As I stepped to the side to make room for Deirdre and her entourage, I watched as she took two steps forward, then snapped her head in the direction of Celeste and abruptly stopped.

``Deirdre,'' Fish Lips said, inclining her head with a mali- cious grin.

``Celeste,'' Deirdre said in a way that made you think the name left a nasty aftertaste. ``My spirit guide told me you'd be here.''

Liar, liar, pants on fire . . .

I cocked my head slightly as the playground chant sang through my head. One of the odd talents I have is some- thing like an inboard lie detector. Whenever I'm within hearing distance of a lie, the chant pops into my head. I consider the skill a terrific perk when it comes to negotiat- ing the price of a new car, or taking a check from a client. It was interesting to hear that even though she covered it well, Deirdre was shocked to find Fish Lips in the same hotel.

``Really?'' Celeste replied, ``Did he now?''

``Yes, and Great Wind Talker also said that I was not to acknowledge your existence,'' Deirdre said as she backed right out of the elevator, folded her arms, and waited for the doors to close.

As the doors shut, Celeste turned to her son and let go a sharp, hard laugh, as if someone had just told her a very funny joke. Gerald flinched at the sound but forced a smile to his lips as he nodded his head in agreement. The entire exchange between Deirdre and Celeste was so odd that Cat and I looked at each other as if to say, ``Huh?'' but in the next instant the elevator began moving again and we were headed back down.

When we reached the ground floor, Celeste pushed her way off first, and Cat and I held back as she and her son departed at a clipped pace. ``What was that about?'' Cat asked when they were out of hearing range. BLIND SIGHTED 267

``I have no idea, but that woman,'' I said pointing at Celeste's back, ``shouldn't be here.''

``Why? What do you mean?''

``I'm not sure, just that every time I'm near her these alarm bells go off, like she needs to get on a plane and head home--pronto.''

``Didn't you already try telling her that?''

``Yeah, but that doesn't mean that I can just turn off the message.''

``Well, maybe we can talk to Deirdre after her seminar. I mean, I'm sure she's had plenty of experiences like this before. Maybe there's a way she can tell you to turn it off if the person won't listen?''

I bristled slightly at my sister's suggestion. ``Cat, just be- cause she's famous doesn't mean she's better at the whole intuitive thing than I am.''

``I'm not saying she is, Abby. Jeesh! Don't get so defensive.''

Just then Cat and I reached the entrance to the hall where Deirdre would be speaking. A small line had already formed, and just in front of us I spotted the same little old lady I'd met on the plane who'd filled me in on the week- end's festivities. Her back was to