The Straight Crimes (7 page)

Brielle reached across the table and moved one pile away and positioned the other one directly between them. She slowly ran her fingers across the top card and parted her blood red lips to speak. However, before any words came out of her mouth, she stopped and stared at the empty space around them.

Growing nervous, Harper peered over her shoulder.

"Relax. You can’t see the things I do.”

"What are you seein’?”

“Mostly energies and spirits. They’re always around me. They come and go as they so choose, but this was their world first, so I let them be.”

“Do they talk to you?”

“Some will, yes. Others choose not to. There’s a small boy that sits on my window ledge every night who never says a single word.”

“That’d scare the hell outta me.”

“No, he’s a harmless spirit, so I don’t mind him lingering around. I figure one of th
ese days he’ll tell me what he wants, most of them do.”

“So how about right now? What do you see?”

"Don’t be alarmed, but I see hands. Each pair is reaching for you."

"Hands, whose are they?”

"I don’t see any faces, only the hands, but some images don’t always make perfect sense."

“It sounds like that should mean somethin’ pretty important though, right?”

Feeling uncomfortable and afraid to startle Harper, Brielle avoided a further response. “I almost forgot, happy birthday. It’s tomorrow, correct?”

Her eyes lit up. “Yes ma’am."

"Eighteen."

"That's right."

“Eighteen is a magical age in a woman’s life. Everything begins to change, but of course you already know that.”

“I guess.”

“Your life’s already evolving, ever since summer drew its first breath…when you came back here after being gone all these years.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve had some trouble adapting to your surroundings.”

“Yeah, a lil’.”

“But for you, life seems better here than the South.”

“Anywhere is
better than Fire Brush. That place is a hellhole.”

Brielle forced a smile. “You’re incredibly resilient, my love, and that’s a wonderful trait to have. Especially for you, it’ll come in handy.”

“Why?”

“Events have already been set in motion, and so much is yet to come in such little time. Everything you know as familiar and comfortable is going to change faster than you can comprehend. That’s why your resilience is so precious. You must stay strong to weather the storms brewing ahead.”

“Storms, what are you sayin’?”

“You won’t always understand why things happen, but rather than dwell on the challenges, you need to remember you’re strong and continue to fight. Do what brings you solace.”

“What are you talkin’ about? You’re scarin’ me.”

“No need to be frightened.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“You just need to be the strong, vivacious, young woman you were.”

“I am strong.”

“But not like you were.” Brielle quickly flipped over the first two cards. One was an illustration of a sparkling star, and the other a pair of two lovers, holding hands. "I sense a heaviness weighing you down, a fear eating you from within. You’re quite melancholy.”

Harper wholeheartedly agreed. It was a tough truth to ignore.

"You’re confused. Your mind’s overwrought with apprehension, conflicted about some choices you have to make, but you already have the answer. It's inside of you, burning within.”

“It is?”

“You need to learn how to trust your instincts, darling. The star is trying to show you the way, so you will see the light and follow your heart. However, until you accept who you are, you’ll always be trapped within yourself, never happy, never fulfilled…living a gray, empty life.”

"What do I want?"

"It’s not so much what you want, but rather,
 
who
. Your heart yearns for a 
male
 Libra.” Brielle stared Harper directly into her eyes. “I see the letter 'N’. It’s a hard ‘N’.”

Harper whispered, "Nik."

“Yes, that’s him. Tell me, does your boyfriend have an ill family member? I see a distant relative, perhaps an uncle, who’s in rather poor health.”

“I don’t think so—wait, boyfriend? No he ain’t my boyfriend.”

“Why not? He’s tall, dark, and very attractive. He drives you wild.”

“Please, that’s ridiculous. I’m a woman, why would I want a man?”

"I'm not here to judge, my love. I’m only telling you what you already know—and what I can see.”

Harper frowned, wondering why she tried lying to a psychic. “But no one accepts us.”

“That’s just your perception. Some people will surprise you.”

“Oh yeah,” Harper huffed sarcastically. “You wouldn’t believe exactly how surprised we’ve been.”

“Listen, I understand your cynicism. The truth of the matter is that you’ve created this fear in your mind, based on trivial words from small-minded people. 
You
 are afraid of the isolation you’ll face for loving a man, but you mustn’t let people’s ignorance halt your burning passions. You belong together, the compatibility is undeniable. You, my dear Leo, need to stop being so stubborn. Open your heart and your mind.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your strong personality is sometimes overwhelming and can only truly be tamed by his calm temperance. It’s a perfect match. I see that you two really need each other.”

Harper didn’t know if she should be insulted or relieved. "You think so?"

"If you allow it, this love will never end. It knows no bounds. Its fruits are endless. It transcends beyond your final breaths and its energy will never die."

"Yeah, but what about the assholes who’ve been tryin’ to keep us apart?”

Brielle turned over the next card—a picture of a miserable man, bound by shackles and the word ‘Fool’ printed below him. "Indeed, there are several forces trying to come between you. People in life won’t always accept you for who you are, but you shouldn’t allow their blindness to dictate your existence.”

Harper ignored her and pointed at the card. "The ‘Fool’, great, yeah, there's the big-ass force, Ricky, the one you say is tryin’ to come between us."

"The Fool can represent many things, darling. It can, in fact, represent a strong personality, someone who listens only to themselves and doesn't care about others. However, it can also mean new beginnings.”

Harper groaned. “You’re blabbin’ on about these forces and tellin’ me to keep bein’ myself, but you keep avoidin’ my real questions. Can’t you answer me straight just once?”

Brielle took a lingering breath and chose her words carefully. “It’s not that easy. The energy around you is incredibly menacing, manifesting in many forms. Part of it’s here with us now.”

“What do you mean?”

"Ricky, he’s here, standing beside you."

“No he ain’t.”

"Yes, he is. Ricky’s dead.”

The words sent chills through Harper’s body.

“He’s pointing at his motorcycle. It’s hard to understand him, but he’s furious. His words are muffled and his face is dripping with blood from the cuts."

"You’re wrong. He can’t be dead, we just saw him a few weeks ago. He was chasin’ us down on that stupid bike until the cops scared him off.”

Brielle closed her eyes and flinched as the violent afternoon replayed in her mind. "Ricky avoided the police, but during his retreat, crashed into a tree. No one’s found him yet. He’s in the Dark Woods, just beyond the Old Winter Cemetery. I see a small fire pit. About fifteen steps away, his lifeless body is in a deep ravine.”

“I don’t believe you.”

"You will. Someone will find him soon.”

Skeptical, Harper continued with a question. "What’s he sayin’? Can you hear him yet?”

“No, he’s just swinging his arms.”

“And he still ain’t sayin’ anything?”

“No, he appears to be lost.”

“But somehow he was magically able to find his way to you?”

“He’s tied to your energy. That’s how I’m able to see him. He followed you here.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Believe me—he’s here as much as we are. However, heed this warning: Ricky’s not the only entity who’ll try to keep you and Nik apart. You need to be very careful in your pursuit of love.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Before, you told me to be strong, to stand up and not worry about what others think. Now you’re warnin’ me to look out ‘cause another ‘entity’ doesn’t want us together? You ain’t makin’ sense.”

“There are several entities. You’re not listening.”

"Yeah I am. Look, I really came here wantin’ to know if I should be with Nik or not. First you’re tellin’ me yes, and now you’re tellin’ me no ‘cause of all this foolishness. I asked you to be straight, but you can’t even do that. I feel like you’re just messin’ around with me to get my money.” Harper slammed the hundred dollar bill on the table. "Here you go. You got exactly what you wanted. Just give me the change so I can get the hell outta here.”

Brielle pulled out the difference from her pocket. As she placed it in Harper's palm, she grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in close. "On the contrary, my dear, I’m afraid you're gravely mistaken. I told you that if you want happiness, you’ll be with him, but the only way to do that is to ignore your fears of what others think. I 
never 
said it was going to be easy. In fact, I specifically said that you two need each other. Don't take that lightly, not for one moment. You need Nik more than you will ever know…mark my words."

"Why?"

"Just trust me, you will. Don't push him away. If you give me a little more time I can better explain—”

"Damn it, don’t you see why this is so frustratin’? I’ve given you plenty of time and you keep runnin’ me in circles. I’m leavin’.”

"Please, darling, listen—"

"No, you’re a fraud.”

“I assure you, I’m not. How else would I have known so much about you?”

“Please, lady, you’ve lived in Silver Shores a lot longer than me. You probably know everyone here, including Ricky Wiley. Who knows, maybe you’ve seen him pickin’ on us or heard other people talkin’ about us ‘cause we’re straight, or maybe you’ve encountered that little bitch, Daisy Holloway. She probably told you how awful I am.”

Brielle lifted her eyebrows in shock. “Wait, you know Daisy? She’s—”

“It ain’t hard to do your homework in a small town. Nik was right, none of this is real. Excuse me.”

“I’m as real as the day is new. I mean no ambiguity. This is all just so dark and complex. It takes time to properly explain everything I’m seeing. Please, I beg you. Just hear me out.”

“You’ve wasted enough of my time. Thanks anyway.”

Brielle’s icy glare followed Harper as she disappeared through the front door and out into the storm.

She sat a moment longer, ominously tapping her fingertips against the table. She desperately tried to ignore the dark images lingering in her mind.

Then she delicately turned over the next card in the pile. It rarely provided comfort, but was foretelling of something far more sinister. It revealed an image of a dark-robed man. Printed just below the illustration, in tiny bold script, was the word ‘Death.’

Brielle whispered in a hushed, raspy voice, “You should have listened, my dear.”

SEVEN

T
he following evening felt incredibly somber, especially since Harper was celebrating her birthday alone. She wandered through downtown Silver Shores along the desolate streets while lightning and pummeling rain filled the dark sky.

Half frozen, she sought refuge under the awning to the Blushing Beauty Salon. Harper pushed her soaked hair back and caught her breath.

In the distance, the piercing cry of seagulls and the call of the lake’s thrashing waves brewed, intensifying with the storm. The familiar sounds of the beach always made her think of Nik.

She began feeling remorseful again. No matter how hard she fought to suppress her thoughts, they were plagued with guilt.

“Sweetie, are you out of your damn mind?”

Harper looked up and saw a full-chested blonde in the doorway, clicking her acrylic nails against the wood. The incredibly low neckline on her tight purple top made her proud cleavage appear as if it was trying to escape.

“Sorry, I was just warmin’ up a minute. I’ll leave.”

“You can stand there as long as you want. I just meant that you’re gonna freeze your ass off out here.”

“Oh, I thought you were askin’ me to leave.”

“Do I look that heartless?” She examined Harper’s troubled face and noticed her shivering body. “Your teeth are chattering. Why don’t you come in?”

“Nah, I’m fine.”

The stranger removed her black cardigan and draped it over Harper’s drenched crop top chiffon blouse.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, sweetie. By the way, I love that shade of green you’re wearing. It brings out your eyes.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“It’s not gonna let up for a bit, why don’t you come inside and take a look around? We have thirteen new shades of eye shadow.”

"These ones here?”

“Yes.”

Harper’s eyes scanned the rainbow array of colors. “They’re real pretty.”

“Wanna try some on?”

“Maybe another time. I’ve got a lot of stuff on my mind.”

“Honestly, I can’t think of a better way to clear your head than indulging in some retail therapy.”

“That’s okay. I don’t need anything.”

“If you don’t like any of these, I have more.”

“It ain’t that. Everything’s sparkly and bright, but I don’t really wear makeup.”

“Why not?”

“The last time I tried wearin’ lipstick and blush, Mama told me I looked like a jezebel."

The beautiful woman frowned sympathetically. "I suppose it could be a little tragic if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Harper forced a smile.

“You
 
do
 know how to apply makeup, don’t you?”

"Not really, but I used to watch Mama put it on in her bedroom mirror while she got ready for dates.”

"Well, how about I give you a free consultation?”

"I don't want you gettin’ in trouble.”

"It’s fine, sweetie. This is my shop.”

"Really?"

The woman tossed her long, blonde locks back and extended her hand. “I’m Traci Galva."

“Harper Jones."

Traci’s skin was soft, yet her handshake strong and firm. Her green eyes were hypnotic and glowed as she smiled. By most standards, the woman was a bombshell.

“What kind of perfume are you wearin’?” Harper asked.

“It’s called Tantalize.”

“It smells nice.”

“Wanna try some? I have a bottle in my purse.”

“Nah, it’s okay.”

Traci widened her eyes and tugged on Harper’s hands. “Ugh…I’m about to slap you. We’ve gotta get you out of this grumpy funk. You’re starting to bring me down.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re coming inside, and I’m doing your makeup—that’s final.”

“But—”

She put her finger on Harper’s lips and pulled her through the front door. “But nothing. If you don’t like it, then you’ll just have to suffer through, ‘cause I’m dying to paint that pretty little face of yours.”

All the decorations inside the salon were black and hot pink. Each station had fresh floral arrangements in tall sleek vases under studio spotlights.

“So, what do you think?”

"You’ve got a nice place."

"Thanks."

"Did you do the decoratin’?”

"Of course." Traci slapped the cushion of her chair, motioning for her to sit. "My mother tried to give her lackluster input, but her taste was so drab and outdated that I had to spearhead the renovation myself.”

While Traci tied a smock around her neck and laid out her artillery of cosmetics, Harper noticed the incredible amount of jewelry weighing her down. From rings to bracelets and necklaces, the woman was dripping in diamonds.

"Does your mother work here too?”

"Not anymore.”

"That’s gotta be a relief. I can't even imagine workin’ with Mama. So what happened, did y'all drive each other crazy?"

"Not exactly.”

"Was she mad you didn’t like her ideas?”

She fluffed the ends of her hair, pondering the question. “No, nothing like that. We were quite close.”

“Then what went wrong?”

“It’s hard for me to talk about.”

“Why?”

Traci took a deep breath, hesitating a moment longer. "Because she’s dead.”

“What?” Harper covered her mouth.

Traci solemnly confirmed her statement.

“I’m so sorry.”

“She was my only family.”

“When did she die?”

“This October will be a year.”

“How’d it happen?”

“She disappeared while boating on Lake Michigan, just north of here in the town of Port Vista. She owned a beach house there. Anyway, I’d spoken with her that afternoon and made plans for brunch the next morning, but she never showed up. I’m sure you know how rough those waters can get, especially when large storms roll in. She didn’t stand a chance.”

“Oh my God.”

Traci fidgeted, blankly staring out the window. “The lake is hundreds of feet deep in most parts. The coast guard tried finding her, but after a couple days, they said her chances of survival were highly unlikely. Eventually they downgraded the case to an active search. So basically they gave up. Imagine losing your only living relative, and that’s the answer you receive.” Traci wiped the wetness from her tear-soaked eyes. “I miss her so much. We did everything together, like we were sisters.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m so sorry.”

"No, it’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“Yeah, but I could tell you didn’t wanna talk about it. I should’ve just taken the hint and shut up. I hope you can forgive me, ma’am."

"Excuse me, ma’am?
 
Now
 I’m depressed.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m not that much older than you. What are you anyway, twenty-one, twenty-two?"

"Eighteen."

“Excuse me, 
eighteen
?"

"Yeah, as of today."

"I never thought that’d sound so young. I’m starting to feel old. Well happy birthday, sweetie.”

"Thanks, but I don’t
know what you’re talkin’ about. You look real young.”

“I’m twenty-seven.”

"Twenty-seven and you already own your own business?”

"That’s right.”

“That’s a big accomplishment.”

“I suppose. After cosmetology school, I received my MBA. Mother never took me seriously when I said I wanted to run the shop, so I set out to prove her wrong. I don’t understand why she opened this place. Before me, one of her friends managed it.”

“That’d piss me off.”

“Tell me about it. Mother had her doubts, which I can understand, but she owned several businesses and real estate all over the country. This tiny salon wasn’t really worth her time. For a while, she talked about selling it. That’s when I finally convinced her to let me take over. I revamped everything and now we have had the largest customer base in its history. Not to mention it’s quite lucrative.”

“Sounds like you’ve been workin’ real hard.”

Traci smiled and applied a thin line under Harper's lid. “That’s an understatement. I’ve put my whole life into this place. Anyway, enough about me, where are you from? I hear a little twang in your voice.”

"Fire Brush, Louisiana. It’s just outside Shreveport. It’s a dump."

"Why the hell did you move here?"

“’Cause Mama burnt down our home.”

“Are you serious?”

Harper regaled Traci with long stories of the hardships she and Mindi had faced to bring them back to Faye.

"Let me get this straight, your aunt would really throw you out if your mom lost her job?"

"Not just for that, but ‘cause she’s a hopeless drug addict. She’s already pretty close to getting fired ‘cause she misses work all the time.”

"That must be difficult, living in a world of so much uncertainty."

"It’s hard, but I'm used to it."

“It sounds like your mom needs a reality check.”

“Mama won’t listen to anyone. I don’t know what it’s gonna take, but I’ve only got one year left of school. Then I can try makin’ it on my own.”

“Hang in there, sweetie. It’ll be all right.”

“I hope so.”

Traci spun her chair towards the mirror. "Well, what do we think?"

Harper’s eyes twinkled as she admired her reflection. She couldn't believe the mature-looking person staring back—she was beautiful. It was déjà vu, as if she was back in her bedroom, in front of her tiny vanity. The eighteen year old she was so desperately trying to see was finally realized. For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel like a little girl. She felt like a woman.

"You're stunning.” Traci turned around and reached into a drawer. “I’m putting together a makeup bag so you can try it on your own.”

“I don’t believe it.” Harper couldn’t stop staring in the mirror, captivated by her transformation. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. It’s my gift to you.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“That’s real nice, but I can’t accept that, Traci.”

“Nonsense.” She shoved the bag at her. “Well now that you're all dolled up, where are you celebrating this evening?”

"I ain’t really doin’ anything.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Mama and Auntie are workin’ late, so I'll probably just wait for them to get home.”

"So, you don’t have 
any
 plans?"

"No, not really."

Traci rested her hand on her delicate waist. "That’s unacceptable. I won't allow it. I’m taking you out for dinner.”

"No, you don’t gotta do that.”

"You aren’t spending your birthday alone. I simply won't hear of it."

"I really appreciate it, but you’ve already done way too much.”

“No I haven’t.”

“I don't want you feelin’ bad for me. I’ll be fine.”

"Not another word. We’re going out—and I know the perfect place."

Harper followed Traci into the most posh restaurant on the beach, Sizzle.

It was not the kind of establishment Harper frequented. The place had minimalistic decor, five course m
eals, and a spacious patio overlooking Lake Michigan. Never in her life had she dined in such extravagance.

After they were greeted, Traci requested a private table with a view of the shoreline.

As they walked to the back of the restaurant, Harper realized that being out with a woman felt much different than being with a man. For once, people weren’t staring at her. No one was whispering or insulting them. She felt safe. She felt normal.

However, throughout dinner, Traci’s lingering stare made Harper uncomfortable. The woman hung on each of Harper’s words with a hungry desire that suggested a greater interest than friendship.

Traci invasively reached across the table and lifted the heart-shaped pendant in the palm of her hand. "I love your necklace.”

“Thanks.”

“Where’d you get it?”

"Mama gave it to me.”

"It looks lovely on you."

Harper forced a smile, knowing it paled in comparison to the extravagant jewelry adorning Traci’s flawless body.

"So tell me, aside from parading through town in the rain, how else do you spend your time?”

"Nothin’ real excitin’. I’m usually at the beach.”