Bad Karma

“Daniel Sinclair’s an Aries,” the police chief had warned Cleo over the phone. “With more of the sign’s undesirable traits than desirable ones.”

Aries. A fire sign. The most energetic of the fire signs. Aries used that energy to bring about change. So what undesirable traits did Daniel Sinclair harbor? Was he intolerant, a poor judge of character, impulsive, or all of the above? But then there were the positive traits. Aries individuals were the risk takers, daring and aggressive.

Neither man looked like a cop, she decided. And they both looked rather…well, unusual. The dark-haired man was extremely tidy, the light-haired man sloppy in an almost equally obsessive way. The tidy one was dressed in a striped polo shirt tucked neatly into creased jeans. On his feet were Velcro sneakers. She didn’t know anyone over four years old who wore Velcro.

As they closed the distance, she could see that the Velcro man’s face was shiny, as if someone had held him down and given him a good scrubbing. In the back of her mind she thought, There’s something a little slanted here.

While the Velcro man was soft around the edges, his friend was rough. He wore khaki-colored cargo pants, leather sandals, no socks, and a camp shirt that had probably been black at one time, but was now a soft gray. Rounding off the slacker look was a need to shave. A shock of hair that was genetically brown, but had been bleached and streaked by the sun, fell over direct eyes. Bold, Aries eyes. Eyes that held irritation. At her? Or the heat? Both?

She’d expected someone older. She didn’t know why. Maybe because to her a police officer was an authority figure, and authority figures were supposed to be older.

“You Cleo Tyler?” the sloppy one asked in an authoritative way that immediately set Cleo on edge, that immediately had her wanting to respond with something childish, like What’s it to you? Instead, she said, “Yes.”

“I’m Daniel Sinclair.”

She read him so easily. A skeptic. She didn’t mind skeptics. In fact, she was one. She’d spent the last several years trying to prove to herself that psychic phenomena didn’t exist.

She could see that Daniel Sinclair had come prepared to dislike her, but the sight of a blind person had sent him into a tailspin. Now he felt guilty for disliking someone who was handicapped, but he still thought she was out to take the town of Egypt, Missouri, for a ride.

Which could be the case. But it wasn’t her fault that they’d come begging for help. It wasn’t as though she was in the business. She’d been working in a coffee shop, for God’s sake. Lately she’d toyed with the idea of going back to school, but when the Egypt police chief called for the third time, Cleo found herself considering their request. Her life had fallen into a rut. And when she was told she’d get paid whether she found the master key or not, well, it was an offer she couldn’t refuse.

The man in front of her was looking at her as if he knew her inside and out. What arrogance. He knew nothing about her. And, at that moment, she decided she didn’t want to know anything about him. Let him wallow in his smug narrow-mindedness.

“You don’t look like a policeman,” she stated, implying that people weren’t always what they seemed. Her comment also let him in on her harmless deception.

At first his expression was one of surprise. That was instantly replaced by one of self-satisfaction. He’d expected deception from her. “You’re not blind.”

“What about you?” she asked, sending the conversation volleying back. “Are you who you pretend to be? I’m sensing a man out of his element.”

“Don’t use that mind-reading crap on me. I’m in my element. I couldn’t be more in my element.”

“How do you define element?” she asked, suddenly realizing just how tired she was, wishing she hadn’t started this word game.

“I’m the small-town cop who can do whatever he wants.”

His eyes were an intense Paul Newman blue, so dark they looked artificial. Contacts? No, he wasn’t the type. He wouldn’t bother with clear contacts, let alone tinted ones. “You mean you run the town?” she asked.

“If I ran the town, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Did you ever think you might be tempting fate by pretending to be blind?”

Maybe he wasn’t such a skeptic after all.

“Are you saying you believe in fate but not in psychic ability?” she asked.

“That’s a good one.”

The other man, apparently growing restless and fearing he’d never become part of the conversation, jumped in, unintentionally defusing what was fast becoming a hostile situation. “I’m Beau.”

“My brother,” Daniel added as explanation.

Beau eagerly extended a hand, his arm straight, his posture perfect. His hand was soft but warm, his grip firm.

“Hi, Beau.” There, in front of some godforsaken train station in the middle of some godforsaken state, she’d found a good heart. And good hearts were rare. “What sign are you?” she asked.

“What?”

“Zodiac sign.”

He didn’t understand. For a moment she regretted having asked. But then she forged ahead, hoping to repair the damage. “Pisces. I’ll bet you’re a Pisces.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, finally getting it. “I am.”

She introduced him to Premonition. It was love at first sight. Beau began to play with the dog, running a few steps away then waiting for animal to catch up. She’d never seen Premonition take to someone in such a way.

“Is it always so hot here?” Cleo asked Daniel, still unable to fully grasp the smothering heat.

“No, sometimes it’s even hotter. This yours?” Daniel asked, indicating the only bag around.

“Yes.”

He picked it up, groaning in surprise at the weight. “Guess those pyramids and crystal balls weigh a lot.”

“Actually, it’s the portal to my time machine.”

His sun-bleached eyebrows lifted and he actually smiled. “No shit.”

Enough words had fallen from his tongue for her to detect a soft burr. “What kind of accent is that?” she asked, trying for small talk as they walked in the direction of the parking area. “Not Missouri.” She didn’t care, she told herself. She hadn’t a shred of curiosity about the man.

“LA, maybe.”

“That’s not LA I ’m hearing.”

Daniel shifted her bag to his other hand. He figured she must have been picking up on the slight accent left over from his Scotland days. He’d been so hot to see the world that he’d worked his butt off to save enough money to spend his junior year of high school in Scotland. He’d always planned to go back, but then he fell in love and his life had been a downward spiral ever since. He’d never completely lost the accent, though.

“I spent some time in Scotland. The accent’s easy to pick up, hard to get rid of.” He had to give her credit. Most people didn’t notice it.

She took off her dark glasses, as if trying to see him more clearly. “It’s a long way from Scotland to Missouri.”

Green eyes were surrounded by a mass of tumbling red curls, and a sleepiness gave her face a softness he didn’t trust. Her white top was sleeveless, with a row of tiny buttons. Below her knee-length skirt were leather sandals and a rose tattoo. She was by far the most exotic thing Egypt had ever seen.

“We can’t always choose the roads we take,” he said.

Her gaze went from Daniel to Beau and then back.

Daniel knew what she was doing-milking him for information so that later she could amaze people by saying things like, “I see bagpipes…I see a kilt.” And everybody would be so impressed with her extrasensory powers. Everybody but him, that is. He should just feed her back a bunch of bullshit.

Daniel had expected Beau to like Cleo, because Beau liked everybody. But the dog was a surprise. Daniel didn’t know Beau liked animals so much. They’d had a dog when they were kids, but then most kids had dogs. It didn’t necessarily mean they were crazy about them.