Killer Moon (Psychic For Hire 2)

God, I hope he won’t be irritating. Dull irritating people get my goat. My standing-on-its-hooves-talking-to-you goat. My life’s been full of dullards recently. Give me those who are mad, bad and out of control any day. And give me one soon before I go out of my mind.

I’ve been dreaming of it — the good time ahead. My payday. I’ve been dreaming of leaving this shithole behind. Of no longer having to pretend. It could have been more fun if these people weren’t such sheep. I like a challenge, me. This current moron is no challenge.

Resting my hands on the counter, I lean towards him, chest thrusting out oh-so-innocently in my ridiculously prim blouse. “What are you reading, honey?”

He shoves his book down to below the counter where I can’t see it. And here was me thinking he was reading some sci-fi and shit.

“Not fit for my eyes, huh?”

His ears go pink. Good. It means he wants saving from his shame before he turns obstinate. And I’m about to save him.

“I’m here to take a look at Rachel Garrett’s belongings. Can you point me in the right direction?”

Donut guy raises an unimpressed eyebrow. He doesn't know who Rachel Garrett is. Doesn't care much either. He doesn't want to listen to me to explain. He wants to get back to his book without me here to take a look at it.

“Where’s the form?” he says.

I hold up my hands. “I am formless.”

“You need a form if you’re removing evidence.”

“Aren’t we going digital these days?” I ask. “Check your inbox. My form’s there.”

“What digital?” he huffs. “I aint heard nothing about no digital. It’s paper. It’s always been paper.” He does not look happy about the dark and overwhelming prospect of going digital. This guy probably only logs onto his email once a week.

I try not to grin. “Not to worry,” I say. “I’m not removing any evidence anyway. I just need to check some of the contents.”

“Yeah whatever. Sign this sheet here.” He pushes a clipboard towards me.

I scrawl something illegible in it. Donut guy is no longer paying attention. I add a smiley face.

He unlocks the security door and points me in the direction of the box I want. He doesn’t stay to watch. I put on my gloves. I trail my fingers over all of the boxes on all of the shelves as I go. There must be loads of interesting shit here. Too bad it is all labeled in reference numbers that mean nothing to me.

I find the box that contains Rachel’s belongings and take it off its shelf. I put it on the floor so that I can rifle through the contents.

Everything is neatly packaged in clear plastic bags. Her little gold handbag, her scarlet dress mottled with brown blood stains, her shoes. Her phone, her jacket, her smokes. She favors a menthol brand.

Without taking her handbag out of its plastic baggy, I unsnap the fastening and tip all of the contents out. They include a cute little purse, various items of makeup including a scarlet lipstick and black liquid eyeliner, and a little bottle of expensive perfume.

I fish out the perfume and a couple of items of make up and put them in my pocket. I grab the cigarettes and her phone too. I shake out the handbag again in case there is anything incriminating in there. There is not. I seal up the bags and return them to the box.

When I get back to the counter, donut guy is reading his book again. “Want me to sign out?” I ask.

He pushes the clipboard towards me without even looking up. I scribble ‘Stupid is as stupid does’ and do my best not to strut away. I don’t want him watching my ass. It might make me too memorable.

I stop by the ladies’ toilets to put the stuff I’ve liberated into the hidden pocket I’ve made in the lining of my bag.

On my way back up in the elevator I find myself humming a satisfied little tune and flicking my little crystal pendant. It may be red but it’s as insipid as the rest of my attire. Another thing I can’t wait to be rid of.

Humming to myself, I sashay out of the elevator and head back to work. I’ve only been a few minutes. Nowhere near long enough for anyone to notice I’ve been gone.

Chapter 16

DIANA

A leggy model-ish girl smirks at me as I hurriedly make my way to Storm’s office, feeling harassed and looking it too no doubt. I arrive to find the office empty. I can see through the glass wall that he is not inside. Dammit, I am late. I had zoned out on the tube and missed my stop. Since my midday nap at the hospital I am not feeling too great.

“Diana,” calls a voice cheerily.