“The constable is looking for a missing girl,” Annabel said.

“Then you’ve come to the right place,” the man said smiling. He held out his hand. “Randy Wunderlich. I’ve located plenty of missing people in my career. What can you tell me about her?”

“The constable thinks she might have stayed here,” Annabel cut in before Evan could answer. “But I think we’ve established that she hasn’t.”

Randy put his fingers to his temples. “Wait a minute. As you were talking, I got something … something to do with water? Ocean? Across the ocean?” he asked.

“She’s from America,” Evan said.

“Ah. Okay. That’s a start. What do we have to go on? Do you have anything belonging to the girl? Something I could touch when I go into a trance?”

Evan thought that it was rather like giving a bloodhound an old sock to smell and a ridiculous picture of Randy, sniffing out a trail, sprang into his mind. “I’ve got this poster,” he said, holding it up. “The photo’s not very good, and I’m afraid I can’t tell you much. She was studying over here, at Oxford, and wrote to her parents saying she was heading for Wales. She hasn’t been heard from in over two months now.”

Randy barely glanced at the poster but put his fingers to his temples again. “I’m not picking up anything at the moment.”

“I’ve already told the constable that she hasn’t been here,” Annabel said. “And you’re probably not picking up anything because she’s gone back to America. ‘Ocean,’ you said. The girl is across the ocean.”

“Yeah. That could be it,” Randy said. “Sorry not to be more positive, Officer. I’ll keep on trying. If anything comes to me, I’ll be sure to let you know.” He looked at Annabel. “Did you want me, honey?”

“Yes, I did. We’re supposed to be meeting with Ben in—” she consulted her watch “—fifteen minutes. And you can’t see him dressed like that.”

“Just because he’s a stuffed shirt doesn’t mean that I have to be,” Randy said. “He’s an accountant. He’s supposed to look like that. I’m a psychic and a well-known personality. He has to take me or leave me.” He put an arm around her waist. “Come on. Race you up to the main house.”

As he pushed her forward, Evan heard her mutter, “Sometimes I wish you’d grow up, Randy.”

“But you married me for my youthful good looks,” he chuckled, “as well as for getting your head straightened out.”

Evan trailed behind them as they went up the steps. As they passed the spa building, Evan heard a shriek.

“Evan Evans—what are you doing here?”

Betsy and another girl were just emerging from the building with buckets and mops. They were both dressed in short green uniform dresses with the oak tree logo of the Sacred Grove on the breast pockets.

“Hello, Betsy,” Evan said.

Randy turned back. “Hey—you two know each other? That’s so cool.”

“He’s the constable in our village,” Betsy said, her face bright red with embarrassment.

“Great. Terrific. So you’ve heard that you might have a budding psychic living in your midst, have you, Constable?”

“Yes, I’ve heard all about it,” Evan said.

“The grad student who discovered her is very excited by her preliminary results. She’s asked me to test her on a more sophisticated level.” He smiled at Betsy. “So you’re all set for our session together this afternoon then, Betsy?” He gave Betsy a fake punch on the arm that was somehow very intimate.

“Oh, yes, sir,” Betsy mumbled. “I’ll be there, sir. And thank you for finding me a job here. It’s wonderful.”

“Glad you could join us,” Randy said. “The more positive vibrations there are around this place, the better. We’re going to make this place the psychic capital of the world, you see.”

“Come on, Randy. Ben will be waiting,” Annabel dragged at his arm.

Randy waved easily. “See you at four then. Don’t be late.”

“Thank you for coming, Constable.” Annabel turned to Evan. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t help you. And please excuse me if I don’t show you out. We have an important meeting with our accountant. The main gate is through that archway to your right. I’ll call Blaine to let him know you’re leaving.”

Then she and Randy hurried up the path. Betsy stood glaring at Evan, her hands on her hips.

“And just what are you doing here, I’d like to know?”

“Missing person report,” Evan said, waving the flyer at her. “I thought this might be a good place to check out.”

“Oh, yes, I believe that,” she said. “You came here to spy on me, didn’t you? Keeping an eye on me again.”

“No, Betsy, I swear …”

“When will you learn that I can take care of myself?” Betsy demanded. “I’m a big girl, you know. If you were my boyfriend, I could understand that you wanted to run my life for me. But you’re not, are you?”

“Betsy, I came here on official police business. But I’m glad to see you’ve come up in the world. You’ve traded a tray of glasses at Harry’s for a bucket and mop.”

Betsy tossed her curls defiantly. “That’s all you know about it. I’ve got the cushiest job here you could ever want. I have to help out in the dining room for lunch and dinner and apart from that all I have to do is to check on the spa—you know, making sure there are fresh towels. That kind of thing. I just decided to help Bethan with the cleaning because I’d got nothing else to do. So you can tell Harry that I’m very, very content in my new job. They

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