Visions (Cainsville 2)

He grumbled but lowered himself onto the love seat and turned sideways to prop up his leg, proving it was hurting more than he'd let on.

I perched on my mother's chair. "So apparently I hallucinated a dead body."

"We don't know that for sure."

"Yeah, I think we do. Otherwise, someone left a corpse in my car while I went for a swim and then disposed of it while I was in the house waiting for you. Highly unlikely. The fact that she wore a wig to look like me only seems to seal the matter. It was an omen. A warning." I paused. "I prefer poppies."

A faint frown. "If it was indeed an apparition, would it not make more sense that you would see yourself dead in the car?"

"Maybe I see whatever my mind will accept."

When he didn't reply, I glanced over. He had his shades off as he stared at the wall, deep in thought. The first time I'd seen Gabriel without his sunglasses, I'd wished he'd put them back on. His eyes were an unnaturally pale blue. Empty eyes, I'd thought. I'd come to see that "empty" wasn't quite the right word. More like iced over. Still startling, though, that pale blue ringed with dark. I'd been with him many times when he'd removed his shades in front of strangers, and no one else seemed bothered by his eyes. I wondered what they saw. And, if it was different for me, why?

"So you spotted the poppies and then the body," he said after a moment. "That seems an overload of omens."

He wasn't asking. Just working it out for himself. I swore he was more comfortable with my "ability" than I was. His great-aunt Rose was a psychic in Cainsville, and he'd grown up accepting things like the second sight.

"Would it not seem that the poppies were a portent for the body?" he said. "Meaning the body itself was real?"

"I don't think so. The eyes . . . Well, I told you about the eyes. What I didn't mention is that I've seen that before. Twice in the past few weeks." I explained and then said, "Both times it was a hallucination. Which seems to prove that this wasn't real, either, and that I shouldn't have called you--"

"No," he said. "That is always the first thing you should do under such circumstances." He said it as if his clients found corpses in cars all the time. "You came inside to call, and secured the house, correct?"

"Correct," I said.

"Did you hear any noise from outside?"

I started to shake my head. Then I remembered the hound and pulled out my cell phone, certain I'd see a photo of our empty front gardens. I didn't.

I passed him my phone. "What do you see?"

He looked at the screen. "A dog."

I exhaled in relief.

"Is that an omen?" he asked.

"I have no idea. But I saw that exact same dog in Cainsville this morning. I'm sure it was the same one. It's huge."

"And very distinctive." He tapped the phone, frowning. "In Cainsville, you say?" He rose. "We should speak to Rose."

--

Before we left, I reset the house alarm.

"You need one of those at your apartment," Gabriel said.

"I have a gun. And a cat."

He gave me a look.

"I cannot afford a security system, Gabriel. I suppose I could hock some things. I left most of my jewelry upstairs. I could go get it . . ."

"No, you'd be lucky to get a fraction of the value."

I'm sure Gabriel had enough experience with pawnshops to know, though most of what he would have hocked as a youth wouldn't have been his to begin with.

"You need a security system," he said. "One of Don's men installs excellent units at very reasonable prices." He meant Don Gallagher, his primary client. Don headed the Satan's Saints. It was not a heavy metal band.