BOOK 7

'Are we getting divorced?’

Rachel Gold kept her gaze focused on the tarot cards spread across the mahogany table in the traditional Celtic pattern, and considered the woman’s frantic question. There had been rare times over the past years that Rachel had regretted her decision to become a tarot reader, but when faced with having to give an unwanted answer she wondered if there wasn’t an easier way to make a living.

Passing her hand over the Death card without touching it, Rachel felt tendrils of energy vibrate against her fingers. She lifted her gaze from the picture of an armored skeleton mounted on horseback to study her long-time, and troubled, customer. Anxiety pooled in Sandra Roberts’ blue eyes, deepening the faint crow’s feet fanning out from their corners.

Drawing hard on her filtered cigarette, Sandra blew a thin stream of smoke through her trembling lips. Her complexion paled, sinking to gray in a room bright with festive light. In an urgent whisper so the other guests would