All Seeing Eye by Rob Thurman Read Free Book Online

when the people at Social Services weren’t as cooperative as they could’ve been when I was searching for Glory. I learned to handle the uncomfortable nature of it. I broke out the goods and went to work. It hadn’t helped me find Glory, but it had helped me start the business. It wasn’t wine and roses, but it was beer and barbecue. That had been a start. It had only snowballed from there.
    After opening one of the envelopes from the mail, I fanned out fifteen twenties and grinned darkly at a whole new classification of lunch money. I stuffed the money back in and dropped the envelopeinto Abby’s in-box to be sorted later for a reading. I might charge an arm and a leg, but I did deliver. Moving back to my separate office, I propped open the door with a plaster cast of a head and got ready to greet the day. I had several appointments before noon, although I’d kept the next few days light until Abby was due back. I could’ve taken a short vacation, too, but a raging Atlanta summer left little to do but sizzle on the asphalt. Even sitting on my dock at home would be like enduring a sweat lodge. The breeze off the river was nonexistent, and the mosquitoes were carrying off water-skiers. The Ninth Circle of Hell had nothing on Atlanta in August.
    Even with the air conditioner going full blast, it was still overly warm in the office. I pulled at my black fake-silk long-sleeved pullover shirt. No billowing sleeves—that much into the look I was not, and real silk showed Atlanta sweat stains if you merely looked out the window. It was my costume of choice—it shouted psychic or movie-style spy/assassin, but lightweight as it was, I didn’t think it was going to survive, air conditioner or no. My palms should’ve sweated under gloves of real silk, better fit, but they were long used to being covered. They stayed cool. Protected. I’d settled in behind my desk, a much more massive affair than Abby’s. A deep, dark cherrywood, it came direct from the factory. That’s the way I liked my things, new. Untainted. It kept my life simpler. Slipping off myshoes, I propped my feet up next to a crystal ball on a brass stand and reached for the nudie mag I’d bought at the corner store. A man had his needs. Being in touch with the pulse of the Universal friggin’ Soul wasn’t going to change that.
    The jingle of bells and a strong hello had me shoving the magazine into a drawer and swinging my feet down. Placing my hands flat on the desk, I cleared my throat and said, “Mrs. Eckhardt, prompt as always.” I didn’t bother to deepen my voice, but I did flash her an appreciative eye. It was faked, but Ginger was an established client. She might already be hooked, but it paid to invest in her continued satisfaction. “And looking gorgeous to boot. Blond is a good color on you.”
    A wrinkled hand automatically fluffed the buttercup-yellow bouffant hair as Ginger came into my office and sat in the plush crimson chair opposite my desk. “You heartless flirt. Always the same with you.” Pink lips peeled back to reveal the bright and shining smile you didn’t need to be psychic to know rested in a cup in her bathroom overnight.
    It was hard to say whether Ginger kept coming back for the information from beyond or for the flattery. I didn’t care which it was. It was her dime, and either one paid the bills. “How could I not flirt with a woman so stunning?” I said with a sly wink. “It would be a crime against God and nature.” She threw back her head and gave a bawdy laugh thatrevealed that in her day, Mrs. Eckhardt had been something, indeed. Of course, I didn’t have to guess that by her laugh—I knew her original hair color. A rich chestnut brown, it came through clear as day. I had seen her stuff her first bra, kiss her first boy, and skinny-dip her way into a reputation she didn’t once regret. When she married the love of her life, I was there. She gave him three healthy children that I watched grow up. I also saw