Fool's Moon, page 7
Ruby considered a moment and then reached for the tried-and-true standby, the Rider-Waite-Smith deck. She’d found it to be the most popular deck when it came to the non-Tarot-reading public, and with good reason. It had first been published at the turn of the twentieth century, and its iconic imagery had been used everywhere from magazine ads to movies ever since. From her demeanor, Luciana’s problem was serious and called for a straightforward reading that this classic deck always gave.
Putting the other decks aside, Ruby pulled out the Rider cards from their box and started shuffling.
“Now, do you have a specific question you’d like to ask the cards, or do you want a general reading?”
“I—I have a specific question.”
This time, her hesitation was more obvious, and she glanced over her shoulder at the pulled curtain, as if debating whether or not to make a run for it.
“You can ask me whatever you like,” Ruby assured her. “And if we get started and you don’t think it’s the right question, you can change it. Okay?”
“I know the question. I—I just don’t know if I can say it. If I am wrong, speaking it will be a terrible thing … but if I am right … ”
Infidelity.
That was usually the question that was so personal. And Ruby could understand how she would worry about accusing her man—
fiancé, boyfriend?—of such betrayal, only to learn she’d been wrong.
“Well, let me keep shuffling. And if you don’t want to say it out loud, you can just think it, and we’ll see how that goes.”
And that was when Ruby heard a soft meow behind her. Before she could say anything, a sleek black feline landed with a soft thud in the middle of the reading table.
Luciana gave a surprised little cry, and then laughed. “Un gato negro—a black cat,” she exclaimed as Ophelia sat and stared at her. “Does the kitty tell fortunes, too?”
“She likes to think she does. Bad girl,” Ruby scolded, rising from her chair and preparing to scoot the cat onto the floor. Before she could do so, however, Luciana’s look of surprised amusement became an expression of shock.
“Dios mío, could it be? Where did she come from? The gato, she looks just like … Ofelia?”
The woman gave the name the softer Spanish pronunciation as she stared from the cat to Ruby and back again. Ruby, meanwhile, tamped down a sudden feeling of alarm. Didn’t all black cats pretty much look alike? Still, how many black female cats named Ophelia could there be?
On the other hand, unless someone at the animal shelter was talking out of turn, the previous owner would have no idea who adopted a particular cat. It had to be coincidence that Luciana seemingly knew this kitty. Right?
But before Ruby could confirm or deny the woman’s suspicions, the cat took the situation into her own paws. As Luciana leaned forward for a closer look, Ophelia raised her paw; then, claws sheathed, she gave the woman a couple of soft taps on her cheek.
Luciana’s brown eyes grew wider still, and she reached a tentative hand toward the cat. Ophelia obliged by rubbing her head against the woman’s palm.
“It is her,” the woman said in amazement. “Ofelia, she always does this”—she tapped her own fingers against her cheek—“when she wants to be petted.”
Leaning back in her chair, she continued stroking the cat with one nervous hand while the other was clasped over her heart. Then she glanced about her.
“Estoy tan aliviado—I am so relieved. He said they ran away, but I didn’t believe him. And you have found her. The boy kitty, Brandon—is he here, too?”
Ruby shook her head and gave a quick explanation as to how she’d stumbled across Ophelia and eventually came to adopt her. Then, lest the woman wonder, she was careful to add, “She had one of those microchips, so the animal shelter knew who owned her. They did contact Mrs. Givens’s son, and since his mother had passed away, he relinquished ownership of the cats. So Ophelia is legitimately my cat now.”
“Bien, bien.”
Luciana’s earlier hesitation was gone, and to Ruby’s relief the woman seemed to take her side.
“That is good,” the woman repeated. “Señora Givens, she loved her pequeños—her little ones. But as for her hijo, he is not a kind man. I think if I see Brandon again, I will catch him and give him to you.”
“That would be wonderful,” Ruby agreed, ignoring visions of her sister’s likely reaction when she finally returned home to find not one but two black cats now living in the Botanica.
She plucked a card from the mermaid-shaped business card holder on the corner of the table and handed it to Luciana.
“Here’s the store number. I’ve got it set to ring to my cell phone. Call me if you find him, and I can bring a carrier to put him in to take him home.”
Luciana pulled out her phone, which was wrapped in a bright pink rhinestoned case, and added Ruby’s number to her contacts before tucking the card into her tote bag. Then she sobered. “I am ready.
I think we should look at the cards now.”
“Right.”
Ruby began shuffling the deck again. Ophelia, apparently realizing her work was done for the moment, slipped off the table and returned to her usual spot upon the column. The cards well-mixed, Ruby squared the deck and set it on the table again.
“Go ahead and cut the deck into three piles, and then restack them in a different order.”
Luciana nodded, but didn’t move to cut the cards. Instead, she remained looking down at her clenched hands resting on the table. The lighting in the reading room was dimmer, less harsh than the fluorescents in the main shop. The rosier glow, however, didn’t hide the stark lines in her face which abruptly deepened. She stared downward a moment longer, before raising her head and abruptly focusing her anxious gaze on Ruby.
No, it wasn’t worry in her eyes, Ruby realized with a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was fear.
In a swift move, the woman split up the deck and restacked it. That done, she raised her gaze to Ruby again, her brown eyes looking black now in the dim light.
“This is my question,” Luciana choked out in a voice little more than a whisper. “I want to know if Señor Givens murdered his mother.”
Seven
“Murdered?” Ruby stared at the woman in disbelief. “That’s what you want to know, if someone murdered someone else?”
At Luciana’s firm nod, she persisted. “If you witnessed a crime, you should be talking to the police about it, and not me.”
“I already told them all I knew, which was nada … nothing. All
I could say was that I found the poor lady drowned in her own swimming pool. And so the police, they decided it was an accident. But I have the suspicion here”—she tapped a close fist over her heart—“that he is responsible.”
“He? You mean, her son. But why do you think that? I mean, besides a feeling?”
Luciana shrugged. “The old lady, she was a good swimmer. She would go into the water every morning before I bring her the café con leche. And the phone calls. The hijo, he is always on his phone, but he hurries and hangs up if he sees me. And he looks, how do you say, suspicious. Plus there was some other things … things with papers … ”
Papers? Ruby wondered as the other woman trailed off. A contract? Or maybe a will?
But before she could question this, Luciana seemed to rally. “If the cards say he did it, then I will look for a way to prove it. Then I go back to the police again. That is why I ask for the reading, to make sure first.”
“All right, let me think how best to do this.”
Ruby took off her glasses and distractedly cleaned them on the loose hem of her blouse, needing something to do with her hands while she considered the situation. Rosa had never given her instructions on how to deal with someone who claimed to have knowledge of a felony. And in all the Tarot books she’d read, she had yet to come across a spread entitled Did He or Didn’t He Commit Murder?
Not that Rosa would have hesitated to tackle a question like that. But she, Ruby, was not the confident intuitive that her half sister was. No way was she going to open that can of metaphysical worms, not as a junior—okay, very junior—Tarot reader. Not when the subject was murder, or the possibility thereof!
She glanced back at Ophelia, who was perched on the column watching. Any insights? she silently asked the cat, not really expecting an answer. Ophelia blinked her green eyes but had no other feedback to offer.
So, what were her options, then?
Ruby frowned. Maybe she could excuse herself and call JoJo for a bit of legal advice. But JoJo was in an emergency meeting at work and likely wouldn’t be taking calls. So that left her two choices—give Luciana her money back and send her on her way, or do what she could to help the woman gather her obviously confused thoughts.
“All right,” she said with a sigh and put on her glasses again. “You’ve paid for a five-card spread, so let’s start with that. But asking if Mr. Givens murdered his mother is tricky. I think the reading will go better if you ask for general guidance regarding the situation.”
She feared for a moment that Luciana would protest, but to her relief the woman nodded. “I understand. Yes, that is what I want, guidance. Por favor, continue.”
While Luciana watched, Ruby sifted through the deck looking for a particular card. Finding the card she sought, she turned it face up on the table, facing Luciana. Then she dealt out five more cards, arranging them face down in a row beneath the first. She’d decided upon a variation of the standard five-card spread that Rosa had taught her. This one would give insight into the overall situation—and might, in the process, give Luciana a direction to pursue.
“Let’s start with the card at the top,” she began, lightly tapping a blunt nail on the Queen of Pentacles card that lay face up. “This is what we call the Significator, the card that represents someone—in this case, Mrs. Givens. I need you to concentrate on her.”
At Luciana’s murmur of agreement, Ruby went on. “I chose this card to represent her because pentacles signify money, and she was a wealthy woman. Beyond that, the Queen of Pentacles traditionally means someone who is nurturing … a mother. But look at her sitting on her throne.”
She paused and traced a finger along the illustration of the elaborate seat upon which the queen was perched.
“It’s a beautiful chair with all those carvings, and she’s there in a meadow filled with lovely plants and flowers,” Ruby continued, explaining the card’s attributes aloud. “But look at her expression. See how she’s all alone staring down at a single gold pentacle in her lap. It’s the sign of her money, but she’s not smiling. She looks a little sad. Maybe she realizes it should have been a child—a son—in her lap instead.”
“I agree.” Luciana gave a vigorous nod. “She would tell me that they did not have, what do they call it, a good relationship, and her eyes would have the tears when she said it.”
Ruby nodded. Pretty typical situation in wealthy families—heck, in most families. Parents and grown children not getting along. That’s why they say money can’t buy happiness.
Refocusing her attention on the layout before her, she went on. “All right, let’s move on to the other cards. For the first one, it represents what is known about Mrs. Givens’s death.”
She flipped over that first card, and Luciana gasped.
“Dios mío.”
Ruby managed to control her own reflexive intake of breath, since she hadn’t been expecting a card quite so in-your-face as the Ten of Swords. One of the minor arcana, its imagery featured a prone man, the lower portion of his body covered in a bright red cape. Ten straight swords were thrust into him along length of his back, while his face was turned away from the viewer, instead looking at a calm sea.
Talk about a literal depiction of being stabbed in the back! And, definitely a card that bespoke “the end,” she knew. Yet despite the dramatic portrayal—the other term associated with those swords was “overkill”—the image was bloodless, almost sterile. An end to be sure … but not necessarily a murder.
She explained all this to Luciana; then, as another thought occurred to her, she added, “Let’s look again at how he’s lying there already dead, but facing the water. That could indicate that Mrs. Givens was already in distress before she fell into the pool. So the initial reading is that things are just what they seemed—that her death was an accident.”
Luciana nodded, but Ruby could tell from the hard set of her mouth that the woman was still unconvinced.
She flipped over the second card and said, “Now, let’s see with this next card what is hidden about her death.”
Ruby blinked as she took in the image of the Lovers. One of the major arcana, it usually indicated positive energy with its depiction of a floating angel against a bright sun, and an innocently displayed naked man and woman standing below. Alongside the female was an apple tree complete with serpent, and beside the male a tree of life. All very Adam and Eve-y. Normally, it signaled romance, or married love, or good choices … the whole “you complete me” thing, with the completion anything from a perfect mate to a satisfying career.
But the card in the current spread was reversed—upside down—which in a Tarot reading meant that the card’s meaning had been similarly turned topsy-turvy. Ruby frowned as the various negative meanings flashed through her mind.
Bad decisions, divorce, a family breaking up, people marrying for the wrong reasons.
Or, depending on the other cards in the spread, it could mean someone thinking, not with their head, but with what was below their belt. Not quite the card—or the meaning—she would have expected to see in that spot!
She gave Luciana an overview of the card in both its positions and then said, “Since the Lovers are reversed, that could indicate that Mrs. Givens and her son had a falling out shortly before her death. Maybe he made some lifestyle choices she didn’t approve of, or a business decision she thought was wrong. Or maybe he was seeing the wrong woman. The stress and the upset of fighting could very well take a toll on someone her age.”
Luciana appeared to be thinking hard as well. “I think you may be right for this. There is this señorita—this woman—who started coming around. She was young and pretty but—how do they say it?—hard, like stone.” She leaned in closer and added in a softer voice, “The hijo, he did not see it … or maybe he did not care. But Señora Givens, she did not like her at all.”
“Did she say anything to her son about her feelings?”
“Perhaps. It was a week, or maybe two before she died. I heard the señora yelling at the hijo, calling the woman very bad names. But just that one time. The woman came back more times, but the señora, she did not yell about it again. That’s when the thing with the papers happened. I think maybe she was afraid.”
Afraid of this unknown woman? Afraid to confront her son?
Frowning, Ruby went on. “Let’s see how the other cards fall, and maybe this one will make more sense. The next card should tell us if there is a motive for anyone to want to see Mrs. Givens dead.”
Holding her breath and mentally crossing her fingers—let it be the Sun, or the Ten of Cups, something all fluffy bunny and happy—Ruby flipped over the third card.
Five of Pentacles.
More pentacles. Meaning, more money issues.
Ruby kept her features carefully blank, but she was starting to have a bad feeling about Luciana’s suspicions. She’d never cared much for this card, with its unpleasant image of yet another man and woman. No nudity here, however … but no angels either. This time, the pair was clothed, but in obviously threadbare outfits. The old woman in the lead—representing Mrs. Givens?— was shown walking barefoot in the snow clutching a tatty shawl about her. Behind her was a seemingly younger man on crutches doing his best to keep up with his wife, sister … mother?
A depiction of poverty. Literally … or of the spirit, perhaps.
And there was more to this seemingly simple imagery. Rather than trudging doggedly like the woman, whose gaze was fixed on the path before her, the man appeared to be staring up at the stained glass window of the church they were passing. The window’s design was that of five golden pentacles, symbols of material wealth. Actual wealth that he’d lost—or maybe something that he’d wanted but could not have. Either way, the pair in this card was in their sad state most likely because of bad choices that they’d made.
Of course, the card could also speak to financial insecurity, or an uneasy relationship with money. Or being hobbled by money … hence, the man’s crutches. Or even the fear of being alone.
Ruby gnawed her lower lip as she stared at the image. If she were watching a murder mystery movie on television, this would be the point where she’d be yelling at the screen, Can’t you see, the motive is money! Look, the woman can’t see what the man is doing behind her back! But since she was trying to offer an anxious client real-life advice, Ruby picked her actual words a bit more carefully.
“It seems like maybe finances—or the lack of them—might have something to do with her death. I don’t suppose you know anything about Mrs. Givens’s will, do you?”
“You mean, who gets her money?” Luciana opened her eyes wide; then she shook her head. “I had to sign once. You know, to be the witness for her papers. The hijo, he already has his money from when the old man died many years ago. The señora told me that. And she said when she dies that all of her money, it will go to the poor.”
So helping his mother to drown in the swimming wouldn’t have gained the hijo, as Ruby also was beginning to call him, any monetary benefit.
Wondering whether to be disappointed or relieved that this crass motive could be discounted—no, truly, she was relieved!—Ruby said, “If he doesn’t inherit anything, then maybe we’re back to the stress and disappointment. Maybe it wasn’t that mystery woman who came between him and his mother. Maybe she thought he was making bad investments, or getting involved in risky business schemes. And he didn’t like being criticized—see in the card how the man is following after the woman, but at the same time not paying attention to her? All that caused them to quarrel.”
