The Witch and the Englishman(3)

“As psychic as they come...and then some.”

“What am I doing now?”

“You’re waving at me. Now you’re pinching your nose.”

“Holy sweet mother of God.”

“Welcome to my life,” I said.

“And welcome to my life,” he said, and winked at me.

“So,” I said, “how can I help you?”

“I have questions about my daughter.”

“What kind of questions?”

“I think...” he paused, started again, and I knew immediately that he was withholding information from me. “I think she might be in a spot of trouble.”

“A ‘spot’ of trouble? What kind of trouble?”

“Is this being recorded?”

“Yes.”

“Is there any chance we could meet, say, in person? That is, of course, if you are local.”

“It’s against company policy. And, I’m not that far from you.”

“So, you’ll meet me?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Where?”

“Your house.”

“Do you need the address?”

“No,” I said.

“I thought you might say that.”

“Maybe I’m not the only psychic one. See you in a few.”

I disconnected the call, but not before I got one last psychic hit.

And it was a big one.

Chapter Two

Yes, I could get fired over this.

No, I didn’t give a shit if they fired me over this, although I would miss the steady paycheck and the interesting characters.

Millicent thought, however, that I should start my own practice, where clients came in to see me. I reminded her that she was just a ghost and what did she know, although that didn’t sit very well with her.

Now, as I dashed through my apartment, slipping on my Asics and light jacket, the partial outline of a thirty-something woman appeared in my kitchen. I hadn’t quite gotten used to Millicent’s sudden appearances, and I was certainly not used to the way the hair at the back of my neck stood on end, as it did now.