Page 14 of A Charming Touch of Tarot (The Gin & Tarot Club #2)

14

Seven of Cups

It’s been two weeks with little communication from Nick. We’ve exchanged several text messages back and forth, but he’s been so consumed with the Grayson case that we haven’t had time to discuss my New Year’s Eve shenanigans. Or Isla, for that matter. The only text he’s sent that alluded to that night was him telling me how much he appreciates that I didn’t act upon Isla’s wishes.

Nick

You’ll never know how grateful I am that you didn’t listen to Isla.

Me

I’d never do something like that without involving you.

Nick

I don’t deserve you.

I’ve reread that exchange more times than I care to admit.

Nick’s belief in my abilities is something he struggles with. He’s seen the proof, but it lacks all reason, and for him, that’s a tough pill to swallow. Telling him I see Isla is another thing entirely. The fact that he never questioned me, not once, just shows how good a man he is.

I’m sure hearing that she’s still around isn’t easy for him to handle.

“Are you all right, Ally?” Nina says, bending down to peer into my eyes.

I look up and smile. “Fine. So, what’s the plan?”

Her pursed lips and hard stare tell me that she’s less than impressed with my pathetic attempt to change the subject.

“I’m all right. Really. Still a little weak, but I’ll survive.”

I ended up getting the stomach bug that Nick had. It took me out for forty-eight hours, but that was a week ago, and I know it’s not what Nina is asking about.

She takes a deep breath and settles into her no-nonsense stance.

I throw my hands up. “Okay…It sucks. What else do you want me to say?”

Her features soften and she takes a seat across from me, looking like the consummate therapist.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, counting to ten in my head. “No, but I appreciate your willingness to listen if I were,” I say, hoping this appeases her. She frowns. “I wish that we could talk. Get something figured out about Isla.”

She bobs her head. “I understand, but he’s not avoiding you, Ally. He’s been busy.” She blows a piece of hair out of her face.

“Do you think he wants her to stay?”

She makes a face. “No, Alyssa. Nobody wants their loved one to be stuck here. He’s investigating a murder. One that’s very important, considering it’s his chief’s relative.” She sighs heavily, rubbing at her forehead. “Chelsea was so young. Such a well-loved girl. The pressure he’s under must be crippling.”

News of Chelsea Grayson’s murder has been the talk of the town. She was a Knox Harbor grad, so the local chatter has been nonstop.

“I know you’re right. I just wish there was some way for me to help.” I kick up my feet, turning my attention back toward the TV.

“In fairness, you can’t do much spending your day like this.” She motions to the TV, where yet another Hallmark movie plays in the background.

“I’m only watching it because you haven’t been ready to make a move,” I say. “We’re in Providence, and school’s back in session. Let’s start asking about Ian.”

She sits back with a huff. “We will. Later today.”

We’ve been in Providence for three days, staying at an Airbnb just off campus—a little loft with one king-size bed, a bathroom, and a small kitchen with the bare necessities. It’s cozy and the bed is comfortable, which is all I care about these days.

Nina spent a few hours at the campus library asking around. She said it was likely that back in Ian’s days here, he would’ve frequented the stacks for research.

“I have a lead,” she says, and I perk up at the news. “Another TA that shared a place with Ian is now tenured. I sent him an email after leaving the library on Saturday, and he answered a couple hours later.” She pulls something up on her phone and then looks at me. “He’s agreed to meet.”

“How did you find out about him?”

“The librarian at the front desk. She’s an older woman. Recognized Ian by name and said Professor Drake might have information.”

“Are you prepared to use your ability if needed?”

Her cheeks pinken, and she shakes her head. “No. I haven’t used that on purpose yet, and I don’t plan to.”

“Why not?”

She chews on her bottom lip. “For one, I’m not exactly sure how it works. Do I just touch someone and see random things? Or can I actually tune in for something specific?”

I shrug. “You won’t know unless you try,” I say, leaning forward and offering her my arm. “Try it on me.”

She blinks. “How?”

I chew on my bottom lip. “Think of something specific you want to know before touching me and see if it works.”

She blows out a breath and appears to formulate her question, if her furrowed brows and pinched expression are any indicator.

Nina reaches out and touches my arm. Her eyes are closed, and her lips are smashed together.

She gasps and jumps back as though I’ve stung her.

“Did it work? What did you see?”

She clears her throat. “It didn’t work…exactly. I thought of a specific thing I wanted to see, and it didn’t show me that, but I did see something…”

I make a face for her to spit it out.

“I saw Chelsea.”

My breath hitches.

“You saw her?”

“She was standing by your refrigerator door, just staring at you.”

I get a tingly feeling of spiders crawling over my body that has me wiggling in place.

“Creepy.”

She nods but remains quiet. There’s something she’s not saying. I know Nina, and I know when she’s holding back. This time, it appears as though she’s working something out in her head.

“What else did you see, Nina?”

“I could see into her head.” The word comes out a whisper.

I blink, unable to fully grasp what she’s claiming.

“She was in a speakeasy of sorts. Something that’s hidden from locals.” She rubs at her head, wincing. “She was dealing drugs.”

That was not what I was expecting.

We didn’t have much time to deliberate on the whole Chelsea-was-a-drug-dealer shock, because Nina’s meeting with the professor is approaching, and we needed to make our way across campus.

“I know you haven’t figured out how to use your ability, but this is one of those times where you absolutely should try to use it, Nina. If he isn’t able to give you anything, touch him and see what comes through.”

She groans from beside me as we practically power walk across the courtyard toward the history building, where Professor Drake’s office resides.

“I don’t want to go around touching strangers. It’s weird.”

“We came all this way, and if touching a stranger leads to uncovering Ian’s whereabouts, isn’t it worth it?”

She swallows, bobbing her head. “If I have to in this meeting, I will,” she promises.

“I’m coming in with you.”

Nina skids to a stop, whirling on me. “That’s not necessary, Alyssa. I’m more than capable of having a conversation.”

“I know that, but I want to be there. I might pick up on something that you don’t.”

We’ve stopped at the base of what appears to be one of the oldest buildings at Providence University, Rexton Hall. It towers above us, its imposing stone structure adorned with hanging buttresses. A plaque, standing a foot taller than me, explains that Rexton Hall is a black-foliated building dating back to the 1800s. Originally a church, it was acquired by the university in the early 1900s and became the first building to house classes for Providence University, formerly known as Hathor University, named after its founder, Arin Hathor.

“This place is…”

“Petrifying?” Nina says, staring up at the Gothic monstrosity.

“It’s a bit creepy.”

The clock tower bell chimes, signaling it’s ten a.m. and we need to be meeting with the professor.

We burst through the weighty doors, our footsteps echoing as we race up the stairs to the right, making a beeline for the third floor, where the professor’s offices are situated. By the time we reach the landing, we’re breathless, and to our humiliation, the professor is already waiting outside his door, a faint hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he witnesses our panting.

“Hello, ladies.” He greets us with a smooth, almost suave tone that sets my instincts on edge. “Come in.” With a polite gesture, he steps aside, allowing us to enter.

The room is sparsely furnished, dominated by a basic oak desk positioned across from two empty chairs. Cream walls adorned with an array of framed certificates and awards lend an air of academic authority to the space.

“How can I assist you?” he inquires, taking his seat and intertwining his fingers beneath his chin.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Professor Drake,” Nina begins, her tone polite but tinged with underlying tension.

“Dillon is fine, please,” he interjects, flashing a toothy grin.

“Dillon,” Nina corrects with a smile, maintaining her composure. “I realize this may seem rather unorthodox, but I’m in search of someone, and I was hoping you might be able to provide some insight.” As she speaks, I can’t help but notice the slight raise of his eyebrow.

“And who would you be seeking?”

“Ian Whalen.”

His eyes widen momentarily before he swiftly masks his expression, adopting an air of indifference. “I’m afraid I’m not certain how I can assist you. It’s been quite some time since Ian was associated with Providence.”

“I’m aware,” she says. “But you were roommates. Surely, you’ve remained in touch.”

“I haven’t been in contact with him since he left.”

His right eye twitches, and his fingers tap on his desk. Two signs that tell me he isn’t being truthful.

“Do you have any idea where Ian might’ve gone? Another university?” she asks, and he slams his lips together, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. I have no information. I wish I could be more help.”

Nina’s expression falls, indicating she’s giving up, but I won’t allow it. I subtly nudge her foot with my own, silently urging her to continue with her questioning. She glances up at me from the corner of her eye, and I tap her foot again, hoping to convey the importance of making physical contact with him. After a deep breath, she leans forward and places her hand on top of his, halting the rhythmic strumming. Although he eyes her hand with curiosity, he doesn’t move his hand out from under hers.

“Are you sure he never mentioned where he was going? He must have said something,” I press, noticing the bob of his throat as he prepares to fabricate another lie.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have any information,” he repeats, finally withdrawing his hand.

Rising from his chair, he moves toward the door. “If there’s nothing else I can assist you with, I’m afraid I must make my way across campus for my next class.”

Nina straightens her shoulders and follows suit, making her way to the door. As she extends her hand, he accepts it, looking apprehensive.

“Thank you, Professor. You’ve been most helpful.”

She offers no further explanation, marching out of the office with me close behind.

“Florida,” she whispers as we make our way down the hall.

“So…care to tell me what you saw when you touched the professor?”

She places her phone down and turns to me. “Ian’s mother is in a retirement village in Florida. I saw the sign that said The Communes and then his mom on a patio, sipping something from a mug.”

“That’s a great lead,” I say, picking up my pace to stay next to Nina. “Do you think Ian’s there too?”

“No. But I think she knows where he is. Seems like Dillon only has contact with her.”

“What’s the next move?”

“I’m leaving for Florida, as soon as possible. I need to book my flight.”

I twist my mouth. “And you weren’t going to take me with you?”

She expels a weary sigh. “I don’t want to keep you away from your own stuff, Alyssa.”

“You’re going to sunshine and warmth. Why on earth would you think I’d want to pass on that leg of the journey?”

She smirks. “Well…in that case, I’ll book two tickets?”

I bob my head.

Florida, here we come.