Fool's Moon, page 23
“Oh. Well, I kind of thought you were a skeptic. You know, the type who thinks Tarot is a scam?”
“I told you I was sorry about that. And, I don’t know, maybe it would be interesting to see what you come up with.”
“Uh, sure, I could do that sometime.”
What she wasn’t going to say was that she already had done a Tarot reading about him. She hadn’t lied when she’d told him that afternoon that she had readings scheduled the rest of the day. In fact, she’d been so busy with those clients that she didn’t have time to do a full reading for herself. But with her favorite Morgan-Greer deck, she’d managed between appointments to do a little five-card spread of her own creation that she called What Kind of Guy/Gal is He/She Really?.
It was a basic spread, with the cards fittingly arranged in an arrowhead shape. Starting from the left with the first card, the second card stair-stepped higher, as did the third—the literal “point” that the cards were making. The fourth and fifth cards stair-stepped back down again. Each asked its own question, which could then be interpreted as a whole.
How does the querent see himself? How do others see him? What’s his true nature? What’s his worst flaw? What’s his greatest virtue?
To Ruby’s mind, the results had been surprising, if fitting. The card answering the first question—how does he see himself?—had been the Nine of Wands. The image was that of a dark-haired, bearded man who was a regular foot soldier, not a nobleman. He was in profile and carrying a weapon, which he let balance back against his shoulder. Though less traditionally lethal than a sword, his wand—or in his case, more correctly a cudgel—could still get the job of fighting done. He was striding past a row of another eight wands planted in the ground like a forest, and seemingly was ignoring their presence.
Ruby had always read the Nine of Wands as the card of “keep on trying.” It reflected someone always striving, and always beset by other challenges, but with the fortitude to face them and persevere. Though, sometimes, it also meant someone needing to leave the past behind and move on to new things. From the little she knew of the man, it again seemed an accurate portrayal, though Luis himself would have to speak to that interpretation. That was, if she ever dared shared it with him.
The second card, how do others view him, had been equally appropriate: the Six of Pentacles, or coins. This image featured another man, though blond now and clean-shaven, facing the viewer. In one hand, he held a set of scales (for weighing gold, perhaps?) while with the other he smilingly doled out coins to disembodied grasping hands. An accurate depiction of Luis’s job … and perhaps showing that people accepted the face he presented to them?
The third card, dealing with his true nature, had been a bit more unsettling: the Knight of Swords. Here was another dark-haired, mustachioed warrior in profile view. His pose was similar to the more humble man in the Nine of Wands, but this knight balanced a sword rather than a stick against his shoulder. In the background was the blazing edifice that was the frightening Tower card.
Disconcertingly, the knight’s sword was tinged red—maybe a reflection of the burning building being left behind, or maybe lingering traces of a vanquished enemy’s blood? Either way, it was a card of action, signifying a man willing to rush into danger, not caring what obstacles lay in his path. Though, taken too far, it could also indicate someone ruthless, confrontational … someone rash, controlling.
Yeah, that’s not Luis—not at all, she’d thought with a snort.
The fourth card had been the spread’s only major arcana—the Chariot, but its position was upside-down, or reversed. The charioteer, with his six-pack abs of a chest protector, was driving alone, though he wore a crown reminiscent of a king. His expression was confident as he guided the two horses—one black, one white—that were hitched abreast to his chariot. But a closer look at the steeds showed they each were pulling away in opposite directions, rather than running straight and true. And the fact that the card was reversed seemed to underscore the likely trouble that this loss of discipline foretold.
This, then, reflected Luis’s major flaw—someone wanting to be always in control, and uncomfortable when not. A man needing to be in the driver’s seat at all times, and not happy when plans are changed on him. That, Ruby could easily see.
As for his greatest virtue, that card had interested Ruby the most. She’d smiled when she’d turned over the Ace of Pentacles. Somewhere, she’d once read that as a sign of occupations, this card was associated with—surprise—pawn shops! But there was more to it than that.
The card featured a disembodied hand reaching out of a fluffy white cloud and holding a single gold pentacle coin. Perhaps he was accepting it … or maybe he was giving the coin away. The card was ambiguous on that point. But, traditionally, the card reflected wealth and new beginnings. The latter was symbolized by a path beneath the clouds that led to an arch, which, in turn, led to a mountain and then to the ocean beyond. Definitely a card symbolic of an optimist.
She’d felt a little better once she’d interpreted that spread … but she’d been surprised to realize that her positive feelings had dissipated once she’d got into his truck. Why that was, she’d been wondering for the past several minutes. But now, as a car with a burned-out headlight came speeding from the opposite direction toward them, she abruptly realized why she’d been feeling uneasy.
While she’d tried to catch the stray dog that had shown up in front of the store, she’d also gotten a look at the front of Luis’s truck. What she’d seen in the process hadn’t sunk in, distracted as she’d been. But she wasn’t distracted anymore.
No way, she sternly told herself. But she had to put the question out there. Because it was possible that she might have interpreted the cards incorrectly. After all, she was merely Ruby Sparks, Tarot Card Reader Fairly Competent.
And so she gathered all the food wrappers and containers and put them into the now-empty French fries bag. Then, praying she wasn’t about to open a really horrible can of worms, she said, “So, Luis,
I noticed your broken headlight. It looks like you had a little fender bender recently. What happened?”
Twenty-One
“The broken headlight?” Luis echoed, and muttered a few uncomplimentary things about an unknown person’s lineage. “The hell if I know. When I came back from a run the night that my … the other night, the truck was fine. But sometime overnight, some idiot vandalized it, just for the hell of it, I guess. Busted out the light and scratched up the quarter panel, too.”
Then he shot her a suspicious look. “Wait. You didn’t think … you weren’t wondering if … ”
“No, no, not at all,” Ruby hurried to reply.
But hadn’t the news accounts said a witness saw a black pickup truck fleeing the scene of Luciana’s death? Not that she truly believed Luis would have deliberately killed his own aunt. But it seemed oddly coincidental that his truck had ended up damaged in the same way as the hit-and-run driver’s vehicle likely was … and apparently that very same night.
They had just driven over the bridge to Palm Beach and were approaching the familiar guard house. Luis slowed the pickup, pulling in behind a small silver BMW already in the guest queue, while a black Ferrari slid past the automatic gate in the resident lane. He threw the truck into park and turned to her.
“Look, we’d better both get on the same page before we reach the Givens estate,” he clipped out, shooting her an irritated look. “Here’s a few things you should know. First, Aunt Lu was as much a mother to me as my own mom was. And, second, if you checked out today’s news report, you’d see the cops figured out from the broken headlight pieces that the hit-and-run vehicle was a Chevy pickup.”
He paused and pointed to the logo on the truck’s horn. “This is a Ford.”
“Oh. That’s good. Really good.”
Ruby sighed, feeling equal parts foolish and relieved. Not that she really had thought Louis might have been responsible for Luciana’s death, but this was South Florida. The newspapers were filled with accounts of family members killing family members over burnt steaks, a lost remote control, a borrowed twenty dollars not repaid. This not to mention the surprising number of husbands and wives hiring hit men to kill their respective spouses.
“All right, so that’s settled,” he replied. “Anything else on your mind?”
Ruby took a deep breath and pushed her glasses back into place. She still hadn’t told him why Luciana had come to the Botanica for a Tarot reading in the first place. It was probably time to break the Tarot reader-client privilege and let him know about his aunt’s suspicions.
“There’s something you should know before we get there,” she began. “Luciana had a specific reason she wanted me to read the cards for her. She suspected that old Mrs. Givens didn’t accidentally fall into the swimming pool and drown, like the ME ruled. She was afraid that Mr. Givens killed his mother and made it look like an accident … and she wanted the cards to tell her if that was the case.”
“She what?” Luis gave Ruby an incredulous look. “Let me get this straight. Aunt Lu thought Givens offed his own mother, and instead of going to the cops with what she knew, she went to a Tarot card reader?”
“That was the problem,” Ruby explained. “She didn’t have any sort of evidence she could bring to the police, just a gut feeling. She was hoping to learn something from the cards.”
“Uh-huh. And did the cards”—he gave those last two words air quotes—“shed any light on all this?”
“Nothing about murder,” she replied, giving him air quotes back. “But the reading did point to conflict between the mother and son, and the fact he was a sneaky little so-and-so. Oh, and there were some sort of money issues going on. Maybe he was spending like crazy and she was trying to rein him in.”
Luis’s expression turned a bit thoughtful at that. “You might have a point. If Givens was hurting for cash, helping his rich, elderly mother have a fatal accident could fatten up his wallet in a hurry.”
“Actually, that couldn’t have been a motive. From what Luciana said, he already had his own money from his late father. Everything else belonged to Mrs. Givens, and she changed her will so everything of hers was going to charity upon her death. Luciana was one of the witnesses to the document.”
“So it wouldn’t have done Givens any good to kill her, since he wasn’t going to inherit anything,” Luis finished for her.
Ruby nodded. “Exactly … and Luciana understood that. But she knew that the mother and son didn’t get along, and she just had a bad feeling about the whole situation. Apparently Mrs. Givens had been an Olympic swimmer back in her youth, so your aunt thought it didn’t make sense the old woman would die by drowning.”
“Right, but the police said Mrs. Givens fell and hit her head first, before she ended up in the pool.” Luis sighed. “I always told Aunt Lu she watched too many telenovelas. I think she was drumming up a bunch of drama here.”
He looked like he would say more, but the guard arm blocking the BMW had opened and the car began pulling away. Putting the truck into gear again, Luis eased the vehicle up to the spot opposite the guard house door. A uniformed man with a clipboard peered out.
Ugh. It had to be Mr. Unknown Comic, Ruby thought with a grimace, recognizing him as the same pot-bellied guard who’d been on duty the night of the bridal shower
“Hey, Luis,” the man exclaimed. “I heard you lost your aunt in a traffic accident the other night. I’m real sorry about that.”
“Thanks, George. I have to say, it was a pretty big shock. They still haven’t found the hit-and-run driver.”
George shook his head. “Tough break. I sure hope it works out and they catch the SOB.” Then, condolences out of the way, he bent and squinted toward the passenger seat where Ruby was sitting. “And who’s the lady?”
“Hi,” she said, taking off the ballcap and letting her blue-streaked hair tumble down. “It’s me, the gypsy queen from the other night. Remember?”
“Heck, yeah, Ms. Ruby.” He grinned and then winked at Luis.
“I didn’t know you two were an item. I guess that explains why she drove in after you the other night.”
“Wait, what?” Ruby demanded.
She whipped about to stare through the rear window at Zuki, who grinned back at her, pink tongue lolling. She’d forgotten about the black pickup in front of her at the gatehouse that night … a pickup which, now that she thought of it, looked identical to Luis’s. Except for that truck having a white pit bull who looked suspiciously like Zuki riding in its bed, and Luis didn’t own a dog.
So either Zuki was out joyriding on her own at night, or Ruby had simply imagined seeing a dog that look just like her in Luis’s truck.
Luis, meanwhile, was shaking his head. “No jumping to conclusions, boss. Ruby’s just a friend helping me out. We’re picking up my aunt’s things from the Givens estate.”
“Right, right. Mr. Givens called and put you on the list.” He raised his clipboard and scanned the names, and then frowned. “But I don’t see Ms. Ruby’s name on here.”
“She’s kind of a last minute addition. It was going to take me too long to try to load everything by myself, so I asked Mr. Givens if I could bring help. He said it was okay, but I guess he forgot to tell you. You can call the guy and confirm it, if you want.”
“Nah, no point in bothering the man. Besides, I’ve got her info on file already. Oh, and you might want to get that broken headlight fixed so you don’t get a ticket.”
With that last bit of advice, along with a jaunty wave, George hit the button to activate the gate arm. Luis rolled on through.
The gate arm dropped again behind them, and Ruby snorted as she twisted her hair back up and put on the ballcap again.
“I guess your friend George didn’t notice Zuki in the back of the truck. I have a feeling she wasn’t on the approved list. And I’m guessing you didn’t clear me with Mr. Givens either.”
“Yeah, I kind of forgot to do that. As far as he’s concerned, you work for me.”
“You got it, boss.”
They made the remaining short trip to the Givens house in silence. Luis pulled the truck into the drive, halting before an imposing wrought iron gate that reminded Ruby of Courtney’s main entry. He leaned out the window to punch in a code on the gate access control box. It slid open, and they drove on in.
The grounds were subtly lit, as was the main house. A definite old Florida feel, she thought, taking in the vintage mission-style that conveyed both grandeur and understated good taste. It wasn’t as imposing as Courtney’s more recently built mansion that had been all glass and sleek marble columns, but Ruby preferred it to that more modern look. The only jarring touch was the ostentatious black sports sedan parked in front beneath the portico.
Luis slowly negotiated the cobbled driveway, the glare from the truck’s single headlight wobbling through the tasteful tropical plantings that lined it. No doubt it was tough on him, making this one last visit, Ruby told herself.
“Her place is there at the back, near the garage,” Luis said, tone subdued. “I imagine they’ve locked up her rooms. Givens will probably meet us there with a key.”
On cue, the darkened servants’ quarters abruptly blazed with light. Luis parked at the far side of the garage pad, which was as close as he could get to the tiny house’s front door. A short cobbled path led the rest of the way.
“What about your dog?” he asked as they climbed from the truck. “Will she stay in the bed, do I need to lock her in the cab?”
“And risk getting white hair on your upholstery? Kidding,” she clarified as he quirked a brow at her. “If I tell her to stay, she will.”
Leaving her purse and bags in the cab but taking her phone, Ruby went around to the back. Zuki stuck her blocky head out from the camper top.
Ruby gave her a quick pat. “Good girl. Now, you stay while I go inside with Luis. Sit and stay.”
The dog obediently sat. Giving her a final scratch behind the ears, Ruby turned and followed Luis to the guest house.
“Are they gone yet?” Ophelia whispered, sticking her head out beneath the drop cloth and looking about.
Zuki turned from where she was gazing out from the camper top and nodded. “They just went inside. The coast is clear.”
“Come on, then,” Brandon said, crawling out to join Ophelia. Front paws planted on the tailgate’s upper edge, he added, “We need to keep an eye on Ruby in case the son—or Luis—tries something.”
“Uh, I can’t go,” the pit bull said, ears drooping. “Ruby told me to stay here.”
“So?” Ophelia retorted with a flick of her long tail. “Just because a human says something doesn’t mean it’s a law.”
“Maybe not for felines, but for canines … well, it’s our job.”
Zuki heaved a big sigh, and Ophelia rolled her green eyes. She knew the rules were different for dogs, but this was an emergency!
“This is an emergency,” she told the pit bull in a stern tone. “If something goes wrong for Ruby, we’ll need you there to be the muscle … and the teeth!”
“But if nothing goes wrong, and Ruby finds out I left the truck, she’ll be mad … or sad. Besides, Luis said they’re packing things. That means they’ll be going back and forth bringing out boxes. They’ll notice I’m gone right away!”
Brandon nodded. “She’s got a point. And we’ll need a look out for us, while we’re looking out for Ruby. You know, just in case the son sneaks back outside again and tries to catch us. Besides, it’s not like Zuki would be far away. One yowl from us and she’ll come running to help. Right, Zuki?”
“Right. If there’s trouble, all the rules go out the window,” the pit bull declared, puffing her wide chest so she looked most formidable.
