for anyone who might be watching, then drop the phone on the ground and crush it under my heel. I pick up the pieces and toss them into the dumpster.
One down.
I get in the car and roll down the window. I can hear the soft rush of the river running behind the hotel, and I focus on the sound, letting it fill me before putting the car in gear and pulling out onto the street.
I follow the directions into the hills outside of town. Several of the street signs are set low and hidden by trees, but eventually I find the road I’m looking for and I follow it down a long hill that winds through a deep canyon into cool air and shadow.
The address leads me to a small brick house tucked in behind a wall of oak trees. There’s a sign out front with the same moon-and-star logo that’s embossed on the card, and when I pull into the driveway I can’t help but think about Diane coming here only a few weeks before.
I shut off the engine and get out.
The air is damp and feels cool on my skin.
There’s a rock fountain at the far end of the yard, and the sound of water cascading over the surface fits perfectly with the slow breeze passing through the trees.
I walk along a stone path to the house and climb the steps to the front door. I try to think about what I’m going to say, but nothing sounds right, so I decide not to say anything.
Today, I’m just another client.
There’s classical music playing inside the house, and it stops when I ring the doorbell. I hear footsteps, then the door opens.
The woman who answers is small in every way. She’s wearing thick glasses, and her hair is tied into two dark braids that fall forward across her shoulders. She looks at my face, and for an instant, a deep line forms between her eyebrows. Then it’s gone.
She smiles, and I do my best to smile back.
“I’m looking for Lisa Bishop.” I hold up the card. “It says walk-ins are welcome.”
“Everyone is welcome.”
She steps back and I go inside.
The house is larger than I expected. The ceilings are vaulted and cut with several skylights that give the room a cold, silver glow. There is a deep stone fireplace along the far wall, filled with burning white candles. The only furniture I see is a round coffee table surrounded by thick cushions.
“Nice house,” I say. “Are you Lisa?”
“I am.” She points toward the cushions on the floor. “If you’d like to have a seat, I’ll be right back. Would you like tea?”
I tell her I would, then she turns and disappears through a beaded curtain. A minute later I hear water running, then the delicate clink of glasses.
I walk over to the cushions, but I don’t sit down.
There are several paintings hung along the walls, mostly watercolors, desert scenes. I’m not an expert, but they look pretty good to me.
I stop in front of the fireplace and stare at a line of framed photos on the mantle. I go down the line, looking over each one, waiting for Lisa to return.
I start to move away when one of the photos catches my eye. It’s a picture of Lisa sitting at a table in a dark restaurant with an older man. They’re leaning into each other, smiling, and he has his arm around her shoulder. There’s something wrong about the photo, something too familiar, but I can’t place it.
Behind me, the beaded curtain rattles, and Lisa comes through carrying a silver teapot and two cups. She sets them on the table then runs her hands along her skirt, smoothing it out.
“I hope you like green tea,” she says.
“I’ve never had it.”
“Then I guess we’ll see.”
“Not today.” I touch the bandage on my nose. “I can’t taste anything.”
“Well, that’s too bad. Next time.”
Lisa pours two cups of tea and holds one out to me.
I take it, then motion to the watercolors on the wall.
“Did you do these?”
“Oh no.” She smiles. “They were gifts.”
“From a client?”
“That’s right.”
I almost ask who gave them to her, but I catch myself before the question slips out. I have to be careful. If I’m going to find out what Diane told her, the last thing I want to do is scare her away.
“Do you mind me asking what happened?” Lisa touches the tip of her nose. “It looks painful.”
I smile. “I thought you were psychic.”
Lisa looks at