If she could use Geoff…
She glanced at her ventriloquist dummy in the corner of the room. She’d picked up Geoff years ago from a secondhand shop and developed a whole comedy routine where Geoff was a rude old man and she was the zany sidekick who tried to keep him in line. It worked because ventriloquism was a dying art and also because she was a damn good joke writer and performer.
But the revelation two years before that her dummy was literally haunted by the ghost of its former owner had put a damper on her routine. Agents still called to book her and Geoff, but Evy didn’t have the heart.
She felt bad about putting Geoff in his box, but she also didn’t want to talk to him. He stayed in a corner of the living room, and the only one who acknowledged his existence was Aunt Marie, who was far from fazed by any of her niece’s supernatural quirks.
Evy heard keys rattle in the front door, then the familiar sound of her aunt’s voice.
“Evelyn?”
“I’m in the kitchen.”
The door closed, and Aunt Marie’s keys jingled in the tray by the front door. She’d been at the hairdresser that morning.
“Hey, kid.” Marie walked through the door and smiled when she saw Evy. “How was the TV thing?”
“Good. How was the hairdresser?” Evy could already see that Aunt Marie had taken a new color challenge.
“Purple.” Marie held out a long curl. “What do you think?”
“Looks good with your silver.”
“That’s what I thought.” The old woman reached for a mug and swirled the dregs of coffee that were left in the glass carafe. “I’m making a new pot. You want some?”
“Too hot.”
“It’ll cool you off.” Marie started making a piping-hot pot of coffee.
Marie was a firm believer that drinking hot things in hot weather would lower your body temperature. Evy wasn’t sure if it was true, but she wasn’t going to argue with her aunt.
“I’m good with the iced tea. Thanks.”
“You’ll see when you get older.”
Statements like that made Evy feel her age. She was “older,” so why did she feel like she was still learning how to adult at her age?
“The British guy seems nice,” Evy said. “He used to work for Bunny Barker.”
“I’d send my apologies, but it sounds like he escaped.”
Evy smiled. “What’s so wrong with Bunny?”
“Other than having a stick the size of a saguaro cactus wedged up her backside?” Marie flipped on the coffee maker and turned. Her expression was all amusement. “Nothing.”
“Now that’s a mental picture.” Evy shook her head. “She certainly comes across as a prima donna every time she emails me.”
“Is she the one who hired you? Shouldn’t she be grateful you agreed to host this craziness?”
“She didn’t hire me,” Evy said. “She’s president of the kennel club, but the board is in charge of putting a chairperson in place to head up the dog show, and apparently the lady who’s in charge this year, Lorain Matthews, is Bunny’s mortal enemy or something.”
“And the mortal enemy is the one who hired you?”
Evy nodded. “Yeah, but Bunny keeps emailing with directions that contradict Lorain’s, so you can see how fun that is for me.”
“Sounds delicious.” Marie’s eyes were dancing. “Backstage drama is the best drama. Plus that will be a great place for you to practice.”
“Marie, I really don’t think it’s a good—”
“The medication is an emergency measure, Evelyn.” Marie walked over and put her hand on Evy’s cheek. “You can’t keep taking it forever; it dampens your abilities. The medications hide your gift.”
And I’m fine with that.
She didn’t say it; Marie would be horrified. Her aunt had always carried a touch of the second sight, and she wished she had more. For her, psychic powers were a gift. They were something to be cultivated and used to protect and guide the people she cared about.
But for Evy?
If she could snap her fingers and never hear another internal voice, she would. For her, telepathy was anything but a gift.
It was a curse, and one that medication had finally allowed her to conquer, at least most of the time. She could be in a crowded restaurant again. She could perform. She could even go on a date without hearing her partner’s every thought.
If Marie thought she was giving up that freedom willingly, she was off her rocker.
Chapter Two
Friday morning Evy pulled her giant beast of a Cadillac up to her friend Sergio’s house. Sergio had met Evy after she’d done a benefit show years ago for a charity his mother sponsored, and he’d subsequently collected her into his group of quirky friends.
Evy couldn’t say she minded. Sergio and his husband, Dean, were two of the nicest people on the planet, and they had twin daughters who would probably take over the world someday plus a hell of an estate in the best neighborhood in Palm Springs, Vista de Lirio.
The streets of the neighborhood were winding and shaded by palms, jacarandas, and wispy paloverde trees. The estates were all surrounded by decorative walls, creating an atmosphere of hidden gardens and private nooks around every corner. It was a place that lent itself to exclusive parties, artists, old money, and—according to her friend Julia—many, many ghosts.
She spotted others in Sergio’s friend collection as she walked up the path between the pool house and the main house. There was Julia, resplendent and tan in a flowing blue caftan. Her part-time boyfriend was nowhere in sight, but Mick might be on a movie set since he was a well-known film director.
Opposite Julia sat Genevieve de Winter, Sergio and Dean’s next-door neighbor and Evy’s personal hero. Genevieve was five feet tall on a generous day, had a salt-and-pepper pixie cut, and always wore large sunglasses that covered half her face. She was an artist of some kind, had been married to five husbands, and lived on an estate guarded by two illegal savannah cats and a three-legged poodle named Gaston.
Genevieve usually had some kind of interesting houseguest staying with her, and this morning was no exception. A regal woman with silver-blond hair sat next to her, sipping on a frothy cocktail and whispering something into Genevieve’s ear. Both of the women were joined by dogs—Genevieve’s standard poodle at her side, and the silver-haired woman had a long-haired dog seated on her left, the dog’s eyes sliding closed as it sat in the sun.
“Evy!” Sergio waved at her from behind the bar. “I’m making Ramos Gin Fizz as the cocktail of the day. Would you like one?”
Evy sat next to Julia. “That sounds amazing.”
Julia elbowed her. “Saw you on the show yesterday morning. You looked fantastic.”
“Thank you.” Evy bowed toward her. “Your fashion advice was stellar, as always.”
Genevieve pointed an empty cigarette holder at Evy. “The bangs suit you. Very Louise Brooks. You should always wear your hair that way.”
And Genevieve had spoken.
“Thank you.” Evy, never one to wait, leaned forward and held her hand out to Genevieve’s friend. “Hi, I’m Evy Landa. EV Lane if you’re a booking agent.”