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

things. Steer clear of routine behavior. Take different routes to work; leave at unpredictable times. Go in earlier some days. Stay later on other days.”
    “ Okay, Mom,” I said.
    She shook her head, waited until I entered and locked my car, then gave me a supportive smile and waved goodbye.
    I knew her warnings were given with the most loving of intentions, but now I was freaking out. I started my engine and pulled out of the parking lot, fully intending to follow her wise counsel, but after a brief mental debate, changed my mind. I needed retail therapy, and I needed it bad. Maybe I’ll buy some pepper spray tomorrow, I thought, after we wrap up Operation Wolverine.
    I turned south towards the mall, taking the scenic, back-streets route. Easily blending into moderate traffic, I hit all green lights, making good time. When I finally came to a stop at a red light, I recalled Julie’s advice about being aware of my surroundings, so, dutifully, I checked my rear- and side-view mirrors. Immediately behind me idled a red Miata convertible with the top down. Two teenage girls in cheerleading uniforms and sunglasses bobbed their heads in time with the music blaring from their stereo. Pretty sure they weren’t a threat. Directly behind them, a slender boy of about fifteen sat atop a Moped, utterly entranced with the girls. The third car back was a black SUV with tinted windows. Just for the heck of it, I decided to change my course and turned left. I glanced back at the other traffic, and everyone proceeded forward when the light turned green, except for the black SUV, which also turned left and was now about a half a block behind me. I drove down two streets, made another left turn at the next intersection and kept an eye on my rear-view mirror. The SUV followed me and turned left as well. This could just be a coincidence, I told myself, but I drove around the block and the SUV maintained a position of about a half block behind me. Now I began to get a bit concerned. I decided to circle the block one more time, but this time the SUV drove off.
    “ Well, I can’t go to the mall now,” I said out loud as I reversed my course and headed north. Guess it was time to pay a visit to the military surplus store after all.

CHAPTER SIX
    “ Think like a queen. A queen is not afraid to fail. Failure is another steppingstone to greatness.” — Oprah Winfrey, American television personality, actress, and producer
    *******
    Fifteen minutes later I pulled into the parking lot of Big Sal’s Defense Depot. During the drive I’d repeatedly examined my rear- and side-view mirrors. I even peeked down every side street, but the black car never reappeared. That SUV thing was probably just a coincidence and I was undoubtedly overreacting, I thought. But, since I was there, might as well go in and take a look-see. Couldn’t hurt.
    This was my first excursion into a military surplus store and I really felt out of my element. The interior of the store reeked with testosterone. Killing devices of all shapes and sizes lined the walls and shelves. There were hunting knives, cross bows, fishing gear, and guns galore. Two men with bulging biceps and crew cuts, dressed in T-shirts and camo cargo pants were examining the scope of a rifle. I wandered around aimlessly, trying to find the pepper spray department when one of the store clerks approached me. His name badge said Sal and he looked like he could be ex-Marine: buff, shaved head, about six-foot-two, and a good two-hundred-fifty pounds.
    “ Are you Big Sal?” I asked, looking up at him.
    “ No, I’m little Sal. Big Sal’s my mom.” He pointed to a petite, white-haired lady perched on a tall wooden stool behind the cash register. A red bandana was tied around her head, Rambo style, and a black leather vest topped her white, short-sleeved T-shirt. The sleeves were rolled up revealing a wrinkled tattoo of a cobra on her arm. She must have been all of five-feet-tall at the most. I couldn’t