The 7th Tarot Card by Valerie Clay Read Free Book Online Page A

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    “ We still need to eat and plan our tail for tomorrow. I’d really like to sit outside while we have some sun. How ‘bout we go to downtown Kirkland and find an outdoor restaurant?”
    Julie agreed, hopped in her Jeep, and followed me to the Moss Bay Marina parking lot. After a short walk, we came across a charming café, Olive You, with outdoor seating. A slender young hostess of Asian descent greeted us with a demure smile and menus, showed us to the last available outdoor table, and for a few satisfying moments, we soaked up the glorious sunshine. But, our brief attempt at sunbathing was thwarted when a growing cloud formation moved in, greedily engulfing the sky. As the temperature dipped, I threw my cardigan lightly over my shoulders, but Julie, determined to start her summer tan, toughed it out despite the goose bumps on her arm.
    Our peppy server came by, took our orders then hustled off, leaving us alone to formulate our plans for tracking Mark in the morning.
    “ Meet me at the South East Eighth Park & Ride at nine-fifteen sharp,” Julie said. “Wear something low profile, maybe a hat too. We need to blend in with campers, not draw attention to ourselves. Bring a pen and notebook. I’ll stop and pick up some coffee for us on the way.”
    “ Great idea,” I said as I pulled my sweater tighter around my shoulders. “I’ll bring some fruit and muffins, and maybe some of those yogurt parfait thingys you like. We can make a picnic out of it. Also, I’ve been thinking,” I leaned in and lowered my voice, “wouldn’t it be more professional if we named our mission?”
    Julie cleared her throat. “Named it?”
    “ Yes. What do you think about ‘Code Name Wolverine?’”
    Julie stared at me. I couldn’t see her eyes under her sunglasses, but I was pretty sure she was rolling them.
    “ Well, if that’s what you’d like, Vic, but as far as a picnic goes, this is a serious operation. We need to stay focused here. Let’s have a picnic on another day.”
    “I suppose you’re right,” I said. “Maybe just breakfast cookies.”
    She changed the subject. “Tell me about this stalker. What’s been going on?”
    While we waited for our food to arrive, I recounted all the events of the past several days and she listened in silence, until I finished my story.
    “ What do you have for protection?” she asked me. I proudly pulled the steak knife out of my purse, showed it to her, then quickly shoved it back before anyone noticed.
    “ Well, that’s okay, Vic, but not the best idea,” she said. “A strong guy could overpower you, grab the knife and use it on you. You need some pepper spray, or maybe even a stun gun. There’s a military surplus store on Eighty-Fifth in Redmond. Go there on your way home and pick up something.”
    I hesitated for a moment, then said, “Just because he’s a stalker, doesn’t necessarily make him dangerous, right? I mean, he sent flowers and a CD. Maybe he’s a nice stalker.”
    Julie looked at me. “Yes, in Victoria-land I’m sure all the stalkers are super nice people, and this guy could be harmless, but you should carry something with you, just in case.” She leaned forward, touched my arm, and continued, “Also, and I don’t mean to scare you, but seventy-six percent of murdered women were stalked before they were killed, so you need to take this seriously. Be aware of your surroundings. Get in the habit of checking your rear-view mirror to see if you’re being followed. If you are, drive directly to the nearest police station or even fire station—but don’t get out of the car—just stay locked in and start honking your horn.”
    All this talk about stalkers and self-defense had me riddled with anxiety, and I wasn’t sure I could spray pepper on someone’s head without spraying myself too. We finished our lunch in thoughtful silence, then walked back to our cars. Before she left, Julie offered me one last piece of advice, “Change up the way you do