Black Eye: Confessions of a Fake Psychic Detective #2 (Watty Winner)

Chapter 3

A primed audience. Even better. People know how to behave in front of a camera.

Chris pounces before Zandra can greet the woman at the cart corral. He holds out a pile of paperwork for the woman to sign. It all happens so fast, it's unlikely she notices what she's signing away. The documents use words like "non-disclosure agreement," "privacy waiver" and about a hundred phrases containing the word "rights." It's all designed to protect what happens next.

Zandra inventories the woman's shopping cart, mentally logging the most valuable "tells."

Three gallons of milk means kids at home. It's 2 p.m., so the kids are at daycare. It's Friday, so she must not work. If she's not working and the kids are at daycare, she must have money. The ring on her finger says she's married, so her husband must make a lot of money. The best paying jobs are with Gene Carey's insurance company.

The ring is too quaint, though. She and her husband are too grounded, too practical, for anything flashy. So what does she spend her time on?

Health and wellness, that's what. The food in her cart is all that high-buck organic stuff. Maybe she's self-employed? Runs a business on the side? If she's practical, she wouldn't sit around the house all day. She'd keep busy. But busy with what?

Yoga. It must be yoga. Look at her legs and arms. Lean and muscular. She's a yoga instructor. Part-time, though, since it's 2 p.m.

Back to the kids. How many? Count the sizes of socks in her cart. Two adult-sized packages. One toddler. Married with one kid? Is that all? No, there must be more kids. They probably don't all need socks at once. Probably three kids total if she's buying three gallons of milk.

What about her teeth? Teeth are windows into childhood. Families with their priorities straight and enough means get braces for their kids. This means straighter teeth in adulthood. Hers are somewhere in between. Not too straight. Not too crooked. Not enough information for me to tell. Go to her shoes.

Bingo. The shoes say it all. They're newer workout shoes. The expensive kind.

The verdict: she's a part-time yoga instructor with three kids and a husband who works at Gene Carey's insurance company. She started out life in a middle-class background. Probably met her husband at college. Pretty typical for Stevens Point.

Like all of Zandra's portraits, there's no guarantee this one is correct. That's where the psychic window dressing comes into play. Reword the "tells" and dangle them in front of the mark. If they bite, reel in the win. If not, try something else. And if it all goes to shit, claim a spirit from somewhere else is making contact instead.

That's why the gathering crowd is such a blessing. It's full of trapdoor opportunities.

"Really? This will be on TV?" the woman says, who introduces herself to Zandra as Autumn. "Wow, I can't believe it. This is so exciting."

Believe it, dumbass. Even in this age of information, there's no shortage of people not only willing to be fooled, but eager about it, too. She probably put more thought into that jug of organic milk than what I'm about to do to her.

"My third eye says yes, child," Zandra says, pandering to her spectators. A couple of them clap.

Idiots. I haven't even done anything yet.

"We're ready when you are, Zandra," Chris says from behind the scrawny guy with the camera. He turns to the crowd. "Everyone, you're welcome to watch, but please keep it down while we film. Got it?"

Zandra clears her throat. Takes Autumn's hands into hers.

Step one: gain trust.

"Before I begin, child, I just want to tell you I received a strong psychic impression from you when we pulled up. We were planning on going inside Target to film, but something lured me to you," Zandra says. She watches Autumn's face melt into a thankful smile. "You're something really special. Has anyone ever told you that before?"

Autumn sniffs. "Yes. My grandfather used to me that all the time before he passed away," she says.

Thanks for making my job easier.

"I believe his spirit pulled me toward you. He's standing next to you right now, actually," Zandra says as Autumn gasps and covers her mouth. "I don't want to bring up bad memories, but I'm picking up something like...like...chest pains or something to do with his insides when he passed. Does that sound familiar?"

A speechless Autumn nods in response.

Don't get too excited. Everyone's "insides" are affected when they die.

Zandra rubs her hands together and closes her eyes. "He says he's so proud of you and your family. He wishes he could be there with his great-grandchildren. You take such great care of them," she says.

Zandra opens her eyes, expecting Autumn to be in tears. Instead she's greeted with a puzzled look.

"Kids?" Autumn says.

Oh, shit. Abort, abort.

"Yes, this spirit is telling me about great-grandchildren," Zandra says. "Am I picking up on the wrong spirit?"

"Maybe. My grandfather passed away, but I don't have any kids," Autumn says. She points to the toddler socks in her cart. "I'm a nanny. This is my day off to shop for the kids I watch."

The crowd murmurs something Zandra's not sure she wants to hear. She glances at Chris. He looks nervous.

Think of something quick.

"Have you been married long?" Zandra says.

"Not long."

Zandra smiles. Places a reassuring hand on Autumn's arm. "Then I think you're grandfather is trying to tell you something, child. There might be kids in your future," she says.

Zandra nearly passes out when she hears Autumn's response.

"But my wife and I don't want kids," Autumn says.

Wife? This was so much easier in the old days.

Zandra stammers, trying hard to cover her ass. She tries mining the crowd for a save instead. "This spirit keeps telling me about great-grandchildren. I'm feeling like the letter R means something important," she says.

But by then the crowd is dispersing. She lost them.

"That's all the time we have for today," Chris says, interrupting Zandra's awkward pause with Autumn.

"Can't we shoot this again?" Zandra says.

"What? Shoot again? I thought they said you were a real psychic," Autumn says.

"I am. The spirits must've..."

"I'm going home," Autumn says.

Chris waves the paperwork at Autumn as she leaves. "No talking unless you call me first, ma'am," he says.

"Whatever," Autumn says as she opens the door to her SUV.

Chris motions for the crew to pack it up and head inside the Target. "What the hell was that?" he says to Zandra off to the side.

"She lied, that's what happened. We'll have better luck inside," Zandra says. She checks herself in her compact mirror.

"Luck? Zandra, please don't tell me you're..."

"I jumped into this too quickly. I wasn't in the right frame of mind. I'm ready now."

"You'd better be, or our pitch won't be worth shit on a cracker," Chris says.