looked like fellow college students—sat in chairs, diligently writing on clipboard-supported pages. After checking in at the desk, Lisa joined them and went to work filling out a standard medical history similar to her doctor’s and responding yes or no on the included questionnaire.
Some of the questions made her want to laugh.
Have you ever known who was calling as soon as you heard the phone ring?
Yes. Hasn’t everyone at one time or another?
Have you ever known you were going to receive a package before the doorbell rang?
Yes. Thanks to delivery tracking.
Have you ever had a feeling or premonition that warned you something bad was about to happen?
Yes. Every damn time my mother went to the doctor after her initial diagnosis.
Have you ever had a prophetic dream?
Yes. Sort of. A few months before her mother was diagnosed with cancer, Lisa had dreamed that two tornados struck her house and demolished it with both her mother and father inside. While neither of her parents had been killed by a tornado, she had still lost them both, so she’d count it.
Do you ever know what someone else is going to say before they say it?
Yes. Easy to do when I know the person I’m speaking with well.
Have you ever reached for the phone seconds before it rang?
Yes. Who hasn’t in this phone-centric world?
Have you ever accurately predicted the outcome of a contest or competition?
Yes. Couldn’t anyone make a good guess here or there, particularly when they knew the odds?
And so the questions went. The last page laid out the time requirements. She’d have to come here three days a week for one-hour sessions if chosen. Not a problem since the spring semester would end soon. The page also revealed the weekly pay each subject would be granted.
Her eyes widened. Really? That much? Holy crap, that would help. A lot.
Excitement rose as she wondered how the hell she could convince them she was psychic when she wasn’t.
“Lisa Holt?” a moderately deep voice called.
Rising, she glanced across the waiting area. “Yes?”
A slender man about her age—twenty-six—stood in a doorway, holding a door open. He smiled. “Will you come with me please?”
Returning his smile, she grabbed her purse in one hand, the clipboard in the other, and strode toward him.
“How are you today?” he inquired politely.
“Good, thank you. And you?”
“I’m good.” He closed the door behind her. “Did you finish filling out the forms?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent.” He took the clipboard from her. “This way, please.”
Looping her purse strap over her shoulder, she walked up a long hallway beside him.
“So how did you hear about our study?” he asked. He was tall, probably nine or ten inches above her own five feet two inches, with short blond hair and sparkling blue eyes.
Lisa was usually pretty shy, but he had a friendly way about him that put her at ease. “I saw the flyers you posted at UT.”
“Ah. You’re a student?”
She nodded.
“I earned my bachelor’s degree there. I’m almost done with my masters now. Hopefully, I can pursue my doctoral at Rice University.”
Her eyebrows flew up. “Rice? Wow. That’s big.”
He grinned. “Yeah. It’s also hard as hell to get accepted, but I figured I might as well go for it. My employers here have put in a good word for me. I’m hoping that will help.” He paused beside an open door and motioned for her to enter. “In here, please.”
She brushed past him and entered a room that was just large enough to accommodate a table and two chairs. It was otherwise barren, but at least the chair Lisa sank down in was comfortable.
“Sorry for the boring decor.” He closed the door and headed around the table to the other chair. “They don’t want any distractions.”
“Okay.”
Sinking down in the chair, he flipped through the papers on the clipboard.
Lisa looped the strap of her purse over the back of the chair and studied the table. A vertical board ran along the center of it, tall enough to prevent her from seeing the table surface on his side.
“Looks like you filled out everything,” he said, setting the clipboard aside, “so we can go ahead and get started.” He offered his hand across the barrier between them with another smile. “I’m Brad, by the way.”
She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Lisa.” The sound of a drawer sliding open reached her ears. A moment later, he set down what sounded like another clipboard. He then held up a deck of cards. “So, the cards in this deck