The Guidance - By Marley Gibson Page 0,11

the Celtic cross formation. An impeccably dressed woman in a smart navy blue suit and pink blouse sits at the table with her fingers laced together. "Evelyn, you don't mind if my protégée Kendall joins us, now, do you?"

"Why, of course not." The woman extends a slim hand forward, free of any rings or jewelry except a silver watch. "Evelyn Crawford. So nice to meet you, Kendall. Loreen thinks the world of you. As does my mother."

"She does?" Do I know her mother? I shake her hand.

Evelyn blinks at me. "Mother had you over to the house the other night, looking for Daddy."

The realization hits me. "You're that Evelyn! Mrs. Lockhart's daughter. Geez, I'm so sorry about your father."

The lovely woman forces a smile. "It was quite a shock. More so was the fact that the airline lost him. Terrible thing for a family to go through."

"Any news?" I ask.

She nods. "He's been sent to Memphis and they're driving him home. He should be back this weekend so we can have the memorial service." She takes my hand. "I'm so grateful for your help. If there's anything I can ever do for you, Kendall."

"Wanna do my physiology project?" I say with a nervous giggle.

We all laugh as I pull up a chair and sit next to Miss Evelyn.

She pats her perfectly coifed dark brown hair. "You'll have to come check out my house sometime. I swear, we've got ghosts," Evelyn says. "Honestly, Loreen, is there a residence in Radisson that doesn't have any activity?"

I think back on the soldier I'd thought was a street ghost. Mr. Lockhart had hinted to me that he was attached to his daughter's house. Perhaps he was right. Do I tell her I saw one of the spirits from her house? Hmm ... probably not on our first meeting.

"It seems like it these days. Kendall and her team have done about twenty investigations in the past couple of months," Loreen says with pride. "They wouldn't be solving—and debunking—cases without Kendall's psychic abilities."

I feel a blush coming on. "Well, that's not altogether true. Each member of our team brings something to the table." I want to give credit where credit is due.

"That's just fantastic," Evelyn says.

Loreen quirks her mouth to one side and I can tell she's got an idea.

"What?" I ask, my eyes wide.

"Why don't you try doing a psychic reading for Evelyn?" Loreen looks to her customer. "You wouldn't mind, would you?"

Evelyn shifts in her seat to face me. "Just the opposite. I'd love to see Kendall in action."

I bite my bottom lip as I think this through. I've only been practicing this on Celia—like she has anything to hide from me—and have never done it for a stranger.

"Emily's not with me right now," I admit.

"Who's Emily?" Evelyn asks.

I pop my knuckles to relieve the stress from dealing with Courtney earlier. This is exactly the type of mental focus and relaxation I need. "Umm ... Emily's sort of my spirit guide. I don't know much about her other than she died young—maybe twenty—and she wears what looks like a hospital gown all the time. Turns out, I've known her all my life. She used to be my imaginary friend until I was told to stop talking about things like that. Now Emily gives me clues to what other spirits are doing or thinking. Like I said, though, she's not with me right now, so I don't know how much I'll get right, Miss Evelyn."

Loreen pats my hand. "That's okay, sweetie. Try it on your own. You don't always have to rely on Emily."

She's right. I have to keep developing my own intuition, and I can't always depend on Emily as my CliffsNotes to the paranormal realm.

I clear my throat and sit up straight. "Okay, well, first I'll need something personal of yours."

Evelyn reaches down, gets a very large Louis Vuitton bag, puts it on the table, and withdraws a matching tan and gold wallet. "Will this work?"

"Sure." I think so.

Miss Evelyn hands over the wallet, and I turn it over and over in my palms, feeling the soft leather and listening to the change rattle within. I breathe deeply and try to see the contents. Many quarters, a lot of pennies, and a stack of five, no, six Benjamins. Wow. I didn't know anyone walked around Radisson with six hundred dollars burning a hole in her pocket. Must be nice.

Must. Focus.

Then Loreen screws up her face.

"What?"

"That's nice that you're seeing what's in the wallet,"