Inquisitive Minds

By Gillian Du Caurroy

When someone from Dianne’s past emerges, it brings back a lot of unfinished and unhappy memories. An invitation to meet this person tempts her. Will she go ahead with it?

Gabby should be at her happiest, but the secretive behavior of her partner makes her unsure of their relationship.

With a lavish party in Rome o

• Language: English
• Publisher: G & G Publishing
• Release date: Dec 18, 2018
• ISBN: 9780648303954

Gillian Du Caurroy

Gillian was born in Sydney, Australia. It was her imaginative mind that sparked the desire to write a novel several years ago. This began the process of what would become the "Love and Betrayal" series. To find out more about her novels, go to her website: www.gillianducaurroy.com For her children's short stories, she goes under the name of Gilly McDuff. To find out more about these stories, go to her website at: www.gillymcduffauthor.weebly.com

Book preview

Chapter 1 – Bittersweet

I ’m pregnant! an elated Gabby bellowed from the bathroom. Still in her night clothes, her shoulder-length brown hair disheveled from sleep.

There was silence at first, then the sound of footsteps on the creaky floorboards in the long hallway.

Really? Are you sure? Mick emerged with his computer glasses perched on the end of his nose, dark brown hair swept over his forehead, and a three-day growth. His robe open with pajama pants and bare chest exposed, showing a smattering of salt-and-pepper colored hairs.

Well, the double blue lines appeared straight away. They say that, if you only get the one line, there’s a chance you could be pregnant still, but a double line straight away is pretty much a sure thing. Gabby was babbling excitedly, holding the plastic strip up to Mick’s face.

That’s so wonderful, Gab!

They hugged each other, and in their tight embrace tears flowed equally. Gabby had longed for this moment. She didn’t think it would ever be possible, but her life had changed dramatically for the better after the road trip all those years ago.

I still can’t believe it! She instinctively felt the urge to place her hand over her tummy, already forming a bond between mother and child. First thing tomorrow, I’ll make an appointment with the doctor and get a confirmation.

I’m going to be a dad! I’m actually going to be a dad! The news took Mick a while to set in, and he had a permanently goofy grin on his face each time he thought about it. He also still reflected on the events that nearly killed him, five years prior, when they were all at the hospital under horrendous circumstances.

To this day, when certain things triggered him, the sounds of the gunshots rang through his entire being. If it wasn’t for all the counseling, he wouldn’t have been able to move on each time. So, to be able to say he would be a father filled his heart with gratitude and the exciting prospect of a brand new chapter in his life.

This was all the more reason for concern, given the most recent unsettling circumstances, not that Gabby was privy to any of it – yet.

It was now 10:30 a.m. on a warm Sunday morning in June. Although Sunday was normally a day when they could sleep in and take it easy, today Mick had some business to take care of. Usually they had a late breakfast at one of the seaside cafés, then a leisurely walk down the promenade, followed by a short stroll back to their home. After a long shower, Gabby was quick to get dressed and eager to look at herself in the mirror, picturing a large tummy protruding.

While she busied herself, Mick settled back into his home office, which was a bedroom at the back of the house that had been converted into an office. He was self-employed and contracted to work as a yoga teacher at The Lotus Yoga Center and also a clairvoyant/medium psychic reader at the Sacred Space shop in Santa Monica.

Still excited by the news, he absentmindedly stared at the computer, contemplating his new role of being a dad. The many papers, pens, and ornaments caught his eye, but one thing in particular drew his attention momentarily away from the exciting news.

He stretched out to reach for the envelope which was hidden under the bills in the ‘To be filed’ tray. It was slightly tattered from the numerous times he had taken the letter out, read it, and put it back. The words were etched in his mind and, after reading it so many times, he didn’t really need to consult it anymore... Cos it won’t be long and you’ll be dead...For this you will pay with your life.

Many questions had emerged, and Mick let them circulate in his mind. How did they know where to find me? Should I tell Gabby? Should I tell the police? Didn’t the receptionist see the person who delivered it?

The persistent visions had been so clear. Clear enough that he could smell the blood, hear the gunshots, and see the face of the killer, making him feel sick to his stomach. The name Frank crept up in his mind. This client had booked his appointment under the name of Tony, so whether ‘Tony’ was not his real name or ‘Frank’ was someone he associated with, Mick was unsure at this stage. He was eager to do some research into it, but not now.

EARLIER THAT WEEK...

The Sacred Space shop, where Mick had worked two days a week for the past eight years, was quite busy. Customers new and old visited, browsing the shelves of the well-established business. The lightly scented lemongrass incense filled the air and wafted through every nook and cranny, creating an inviting ambience. A peaceful sound of birds, rolling ocean waves, and soft melodic music infused the space, and each person entering the shop would find solace and peace.

There was a variety of ornaments, photo frames, diaries, cards, crystals, essential oils, CDs, clothing, and much more, carefully arranged on various stands and shelving around the shop. Toward the back, there were three reading rooms. All were very private, with enough space to comfortably fit a table, two chairs, and a side table – which usually held an oil burner or candle along with a small pebble water feature, which created a lovely, relaxing sound. All this was behind each sliding door.

The speakers set in the ceiling of the shop also extended to the reading rooms, so that the background music would create a buffer for privacy, and no one heard anything from the adjoining reading rooms. Everything had been thought of to create total privacy and peace.

Sacred Space was among a group of local shops and businesses in Santa Monica, Los Angeles.

In the same street, there was a row of businesses including a secondhand bookshop, café, drug store, Chinese naturopath, grocery store, and a general bits-and-pieces store. It was tucked away in a residential area and thrived from the community support in keeping the shops running.

Mick was usually early to work. He would have breakfast at home and grab a takeout mocha coffee or cappuccino from the café next door. On entering the shop, he would be updated by the manager, Kerrie, as to all of his appointments. Kerrie was a very computer-savvy person, and all appointments were scheduled leaving a buffer of five minutes between each client, to allow for the inevitable delay sometimes incurred. Clients could book their appointments online.

It’s a busy one today, Mick! You’ve got four already booked in and a tentative booking at 12 noon. Maura and Skye have got three each at this stage, said Kerrie updating Mick as she read the printed list of appointments for each of the readers.

Mick took a look at the list and read it out to himself.

Rose, Jody, Amanda, Tony and possibly Mary. He had his regular clients and was very popular. Often, people would call well in advance just to get a reading with him. Not recognizing ‘Tony’ on the list, he wondered whether it was a typo because he had a regular client called Tonia.

I’m just trying to think whether I know Tony, or if he is a new client. Do you know, Kerrie?

Kerrie looked at her appointment schedule on-screen again.

I think he is a new client. He said that he hadn’t had a reading before and was quite interested in how it all worked. Sounded quite pleasant, actually, said Kerrie matter-of-factly as she busied herself rearranging a shelf full of heart-shaped picture frames.

Okay, just checking. See you later on. Mick disappeared into Reading Room 3, which was at the end of the short passage, to prepare for his first client in ten minutes.

On some days, there was a distinct theme to the clients. They were sometimes traumatized or betrayed or suspicious of partners. On other days, the theme of the day could be completely inspirational. The clients could be facing life-threatening illnesses, or be carers of family members in dire circumstances and still being strong and positive about their future. They were usually in need of a little positivity and hope, which Mick always wanted to give them. It was these inspirational people that really made a difference to his job.

Sure enough, today had a theme. Rose, Jody, and Amanda all had relationship issues and wanted clarification on their future with current partners. It would be no surprise to Mick that he could generally predict what the next client would be in need of.

When his appointment with Amanda finished on time, he had a quick drink and bathroom break. A sense of tenseness came over him. Thinking that his next appointment was in need of some sort of healing, he centered himself and awaited ‘Tony’.

Hi, Tony, is it? Nice to meet you. Please, have a seat, offered Mick, pointing to the empty chair opposite him.

Thanks, hissed the gruffly spoken man.

Have you any questions that you would like clarification on? Or did you want a general reading?

The tenseness was building up again. Mick could feel his heart quicken and his throat constrict. This was not a good sign. He tried very hard to relax and center himself.

Tell me anything, the man growled.

This was going to be a tough one. Mick needed some extra confirmation, so he used his tarot cards. Shuffling the cards, his hands began to tremble – another negative sign. One card popped out of the deck, and onto the small table.

Tony grew agitated looking at Mick shuffling his cards. What’s all this about, anyway? You can predict my future? You go around spreading lies? Hey? Tell me! He was livid. Sweaty, red-faced and absolutely enraged, he thumped his tightened fist on the table.

Mick became very worried. This man was aggressive.

He carefully laid out a spread of cards. Hoping and praying that he could deliver a good enough reading for this man, he interpreted the cards before him.

Looks like there is a lot going on in your life right now, offered Mick, his voice showing concern by quivering.

Without going into much detail of what the cards meant, Mick tried to keep it as positive as possible. It was obvious that this guy was out to prove him wrong.

Then, like a lightning bolt, it hit him hard. A massive pain in the head, and it forced him to grimace and put his hand to his head. Visions started flashing before him. A car park, a baseball field, an alley, an office, a gala ball or function...then a male face, clear as a bell, the smell of blood, lots of money exchanged, a woman’s face, someone that looked familiar to him. He remembered it was a woman that he had read for a week or so ago.

Things started to fall into place. This was the man that he had visions of when reading for the woman. This must be her husband.

Mick’s heart was really racing. He could hardly breathe. Asking for extra guidance from his guides, he managed to calm down.

What’s up? Too hard to read me? said Tony, quite happy that Mick was in pain.

No, no. Sometimes I get these massive migraines when I’ve worked too long shifts. Not a problem though, Mick lied through his teeth and managed to remain expressionless.

Tony became restless. He sat forward in his chair, which seemed to be way too small for his stocky frame.

Leaning forward straight into Mick’s face, he said, Listen carefully. I don’t want a bloody reading, you moron. He thumped his fist onto the table again, and this time Mick’s cards spilled about the floor around them.

Okay, sure. What can I help you with?

You told my wife to watch out for me. That I beat her up. Didn’t you? he demanded.

Mick was now scared. He didn’t know how to handle this. He feared for that woman’s safety at the time of the reading, and yet now he feared for his own life.

Didn’t you? Tony yelled as his eyes widened and saliva spurted from his mouth.

Mick hoped that Kerrie or the others would hear. Unfortunately, the sound buffers were very effective.

I, I don’t know what you mean...

You read for my wife and told her to look out for me. Well, let me tell you. I gave it to her. I did. And if you take your little story any further than this here pathetic little booth that you call your job, I will see that you never work again, let alone tell lies. Do ya hear me?

Mick was in shock.

Well! Do ya hear me, you idiot?

I hear you, whispered Mick. He could hardly hear his own voice for the hammering of his heart.

Now, go back to your little card games. Remember, I’m watching you!

With that, the man slammed the chair on its side, shoved the sliding door nearly out of its track, and stalked out of the shop.

Kerrie ran to the reading room and saw Mick in a state of shock. The man had pushed past her and exited the shop, nearly toppling over some greeting cards on a stand.

Oh my God! What happened? said Kerrie.

He is a lunatic. That’s what happened. I read for his wife and warned her. He must have found out. Not happy. Sorry about this. Mick could barely string a sentence together. His hands were shaking, and his heart still hadn’t calmed down.

He got to his feet and straightened his clothes out, not that Tony laid a finger on him.

Gosh, don’t be sorry. Are you all right? Should I call the police?

Well, I’ve never been more scared but, thankfully, I escaped whatever he had in mind for me.

There’s no one else booked in. Why don’t you call it a day? Skye and Maura can fill in, if need be. Go on, said Kerrie, visibly upset by the incident herself.

Thanks, Kerrie. I appreciate it.

Mick packed up his things and headed home. With his duffel bag strung across his body, he walked along the sidewalk, unable to stop his hands from shaking. Deciding to take a little time to calm down before driving, he entered the café next door and had a strong coffee.

What am I in for? he thought, as he took a calming deep breath.

Chapter 2 – Something’s Fishy

G ood morning, Santino , Agostini & McDonald Lawyers, answered Anastacia, the very efficient receptionist.

May I speak with Hamish McDonald, please? said the voice at the other end.

May I ask who’s calling?

Mick Doherty.

Thank you. I’ll see if Mr. McDonald is free.

The on hold classical music was very relaxing, followed by an advertisement for the firm. Mick had timed his call allowing for the three-hour time difference in Miami.

Hi, Mick! How are you? exclaimed Hamish. He was genuinely happy to speak to Mick.

Good, thanks. Sorry to disturb you. I know you’re probably inundated now.

Don’t worry, I’m happy for the distraction. How are things?

All good, thanks, trembled Mick, hesitating. He had so much news – good and bad. How are you and the family? inquired Mick, reciprocating the pleasantries.

We’re all fine, thanks. We’re counting the weeks until our trip to Rome. You and Gab can still come, can’t you? asked Hamish optimistically, detecting something in Mick’s voice.

Yes, definitely. We are looking forward to it, actually. Sorry to be so vague. I’ll let you in on a secret, though Gab might not be impressed...

Oh?

Gabby’s pregnant!

Well, congratulations, my friend! That’s fantastic news. It’s no wonder you were sounding a bit different.

Yes, we’re over the moon. Very happy. I guess you know the feeling.

Yeah, I certainly do... Hamish reflected on that time in his relationship with Virginia when she fell pregnant with twins after a long time on the IVF program. It was when he first started having the affair with Monique. Bittersweet times.

Everything is great actually, except for one thing...and I don’t want to take up too much of your time.

Not a problem. I do have a meeting to go to in about forty-five minutes. What is it?

Can I ask you something off the record?

Ah, well...you know my duty. But, as a friend, okay, said Hamish as he agreed but always cautious with the fine line of legalities.

A week ago, I received an anonymous poem which was delivered to the yoga center where I work. It was quite graphic and violent, stated Mick,  matter-of-factly.

Really? Addressed to you?

Yes.

What did it say?

Mick opened the now crumpled envelope and pulled out the paper, which he didn’t really need since the words were ingrained in his mind. He read out aloud:

"Roses are red, violets are blue

You don’t know me, but I know you

Telling her all a pack of lies

Only gets you into trouble and no one will hear your cries.

Thinking you know the whole story

And guesses are all they are

With no hard facts

The evidence lacks

So now you’ll have to pay.

First your fingers, then your toes

Shall find themselves shattered with tiny holes.

Then your arms, legs and chest

And lastly your throat, that’s what I like best.

Telling anyone, you had better dread

’Cos it won’t be long and you’ll be dead."

Are you serious? What kind of person would write that? That’s totally threatening.

It is. I think I know who wrote it. There was a guy’s wife that I read for recently, and then he showed up the following week and was rather brutal in his threats.

You’re not kidding, are you? asked Hamish, while he continued to prepare for his meeting.

I know it sounds far-fetched, but when he was sitting opposite me, I got images of clear faces and names and, to be honest, the clarity of these images was what really got me, explained Mick, trying to convey his concern about something that seemed unrealistic to most people.

Jeez. Hamish was lost for words.

I really need your word to know that this is off the record. I am not ready to do anything with it yet...

Mick, the fact that you’ve contacted me must mean you’re fairly concerned and also are looking for a legal aspect to it. Am I right?

Well, yes, but...

I can say that, as a friend, I can listen and help you. However, professionally, if I felt that there was an issue that was going to put my ethos under the microscope, then I would have to make that call. Sorry, Mick. As a friend, I have to be honest.

Sure, I understand. I think once I tell you though, you may change your mind.

Okay. I just needed to be upfront. Go for it, said Hamish, very interested in what Mick was about to say. He sat at his desk and momentarily gazed at the pile of files waiting to be sorted and taken to the meeting while constantly checking his watch.

The woman had a lot of fear, and I got a lot of images flash up. So many in fact that I had to slow everything down and deal with them one by one. It appeared to me that her husband had been involved in many underworld activities and had murdered or been a part of a murder case... Mick became quite tense as he talked about it.

Oh, jeez. I’m not sure about this. It sounds a bit off-color, offered Hamish, already sensing that this was going to be more a legal issue than just listening to a friend in need.

That’s not the worst part. I told the woman that I sensed she was in danger, from her husband. She refused to believe me. Anyway, the next week I was at work, and a rather stocky, dark-haired, fired-up male walks in, sits down for a reading and, before I even start, flashes of that woman enter my mind, plus a million other dark visions, similar to the ones I had with the woman. I realize the connection to her... he trailed off once more.

Bloody hell, Mick. This is something you would have to tell the police. This guy is clearly not stable. You can’t risk it.

Yes, but what about the poem and threat? Anyway, there’s something else...

Mick was normally so calm, yet now he felt his heart beating rapidly, nearly out of his chest. His breath became shallow, and the clamminess of a sweat breaking through on his brow and body took hold. Hamish, I really don’t know about this...

Jeez, Mick, just say it! You obviously need to say it!

The tension was irritating Hamish now. His black-and-white lawyer-type approach to things did not take kindly to beating about the bush.

Frank, said Mick in a quivering voice.

Frank?

Yes. Frank. Frank Agostini.