After the lunch rush, Dinah counted the cash drawer, peeled off several bills, and handed them to Sam. “You’re a powerful draw, hon. Reckon you earned your wages today. Go have some fun, smell some flowers.”

Sam had been questioned by every local who’d stopped by the counter. She felt as if she’d earned her wages just fending off questions about her past. She’d finessed the queries about the skeleton so she said nearly nothing and drew the conversation back to the person asking. That performance alone was worthy of actor’s pay.

Relieved that she had a little more cash to get by on until her brain started working again, Sam shoved the bills into her pocket. “I need to plant Tullah’s flower pot. Do you mind if I dig out some of those alyssum volunteers you have in yours?”

“No idea what an alyssum is. Mariah planted that thing. Take what you like. Go over and see Amber, get your cards read, see if she’ll give you some of her pretty flowers.” She nodded at the planter across the street spilling over with lobelia, geraniums, salvia, and marigolds.

Sam would rather not have her cards read, but if that was what she needed to do to dig around in that planter, she’d bite the bullet. She was itching to pinch back the geraniums and salvia and thin out the marigolds. The purple lobelia were too gorgeous to touch.

In last night’s computer session she’d learned she couldn’t do much of anything about her lack of driver’s license without her birth certificate or other government identification. She didn’t even know what state she’d been born in. So if she wanted to use the computer again, she’d either have to borrow a bike or risk driving without a license.

Early afternoon and the sun was shining brilliantly as she crossed the street. Tourists poked around in the shops, but there was no line waiting beneath the squat wooden building with a Tarot Reader sign. A bell rang overhead as she entered. The shop was lined with candles, boxes of aroma therapy bottles, herbs, crystals, and other accouterments of the trade. Sam didn’t know what her previous persona had thought about woo-woo tricks, but she suspected a person with a scientific background wouldn’t approve. Having no memory certainly opened up one’s mind.

She stopped to admire an abstract oil painting in bold blacks and reds. Delicate line drawings of human figures disappeared into the inferno of color. Dante’s vision of hell?

“I’ll be right out,” a feminine voice sing-songed from the back.

“It’s just me—Sam. Dinah told me I should stop by and take you up on that tarot reading. If you’re busy, I can come another time.”

“I’m just dusting. Come on back! This time of day is always slow.”

Amber was a striking woman in her early thirties. She wore her dark auburn hair covered in a turban that left ringlets hanging around her ears. Sam suspected she wore the off-shoulder, ribbon-bedecked white gypsy blouse and colorful skirts because her round figure looked good in them, not just because of her profession. Maybe one led to the other.

“I’ll fix us some tea. Dinah probably half-worked you to death. You need to be off your feet a while. Have you ever had your tarot read?” Amber bustled about, pulling tea leaves from a cabinet, filling an electric kettle, cleaning old leaves out of a colorful tea pot.

“No, can’t say that I remember it,” Sam said. She thought it might be bad karma to lie.

“Well, it’s not an exact science. It’s all about interpretation. The really good readers like me have a psychic connection with the cards and the client. But a lot of it also relies on you and what questions you have in your mind when we cut the cards. So think about what you’d like to know.”

“What I’d like to know?” Sam drifted over to a counter where boxes of beautifully illustrated cards were displayed. The list of what she’d like to know was endless.

“Most people ask about their love lives or their financial situation. The cards are specific to the person. We can’t predict world peace or anything universal. Some of the cards will produce a general prediction of the future, if you’d like that.” She poured the boiling water over the leaves.

“Could we ask about Cassandra?” Sam didn’t want anyone looking into her personal business. She was terrified of what they’d see. Not that she expected anything from pieces of painted cardboard, but the idea made her twitchy.

“We could, in relation to you, perhaps. That works better. Want to choose a deck?”

“They’re all so beautiful. The artwork is exquisite.” Sam admired the various decks Amber had scattered over a tablecloth. “This set is grim though.” She pointed to one with haunted houses and eerie moons and witches on broomsticks. The style seemed similar to the artwork in the front room.

“That one was designed by one of the original Lucent Ladies. There are only a few decks still in existence. I’m not sure if she was mocking Halloween or if her mind was just bent that way.” Amber set teacups and saucers on the table, then spread the deck expertly. “Her skeleton drawing is almost lifelike. I’ve always wondered if she had a model to work from.”

Sam shuddered, remembering the skull she’d seen uncovered yesterday. “Let’s not use that deck. How about this floral one? I’ve come to ask you if I can work in your planter and thin out a few marigolds for Tullah’s planter, so that seems apt.”

Amber picked up the deck, flipped through it, and studied Sam. “Yes, your vibrations are in synch with the earth cards, interesting. Do you work in agriculture?”

“Environmental science,” Sam said, almost proudly, because this was the only thing she knew about herself. Maybe.

“Interesting that you chose this deck. It’s another one handed down from the Lucent Ladies and is more interpretative than the usual Italian spread. Sit yourself right there.” Amber pointed at one of the straight chairs adorned with white slipcovers. She poured the tea without offering cream or lemon.

Why did Sam remember what went into coffee and tea and not what went into her own damned head?

“We’ll just start with a simple spread today. How would you like me to phrase your question? Where is Cassandra? Is Cass all right?” Amber settled into a similar chair on the other side of the table.

“When will she come home? Can I ask that?”

“We can’t get dates, just what happened in the past that’s influencing the moment and what will come of it, but we can focus on that question. Cut the deck into three stacks, please.”

She probably ought to be asking what would become of her, but that might depend on when Cass would return and throw her out. Sam cut the pretty deck as directed. Amber’s ring-covered fingers lifted each pile as if they were precious gems, and spread three cards from each stack in three rows, face down.

“The bottom row is your past.” She gestured at the line closest to her and flipped the first card on her right. “A tightly bound sheaf of wheat could have many meanings. There’s an almost magical effect to the tie binding them, and the wheat stalks are very young.” She held up her palms and closed her eyes. “For you, I think it means that you were tightly controlled by family, circumstances, energies over which you had no power.”

She flipped the next card, one with crushed leaves and a single untouched blossom. Sam wasn’t entirely certain what kind of flower it represented but it was pink and not completely unfurled.

“Tragedy, I think. Did you lose your parents early?” Amber asked in concern.

Sam couldn’t answer. She simply stared at the crushed plants. She prayed that didn’t represent her real past.

Amber didn’t wait for her to answer but flipped the next card and exclaimed softly. “Freedom, but the flowers are still just buds. You are reaching outside of your tight world but you’ve not fully blossomed, and the leaves are starting to wither, as if they’ve been without water or nourishment too long. That’s probably your college years. College can be pretty dry terrain if all you do is study. I don’t use this deck often, so you’re really influencing my reading with your presence.”

Since the only thing Sam knew about herself was that she’d recently been a student, perhaps Amber could read minds a little. Considering the bleak picture she painted of her past, Sam hoped she was just good at guessing. She stayed silent, not feeding her any information.

Amber started on the middle row, flipping the card on the right. “This line is your present.” She exclaimed softly again, running her fingers over the gnarled old woman standing over what appeared to be a garden bed. “The High Priestess, that has to be Cass, casting a spell. . . over seedlings? Over the earth. Bringing you here?”

Amber flipped the next card, not waiting for any response, although Sam felt the tug of truth. She was turning as mad as the people of the town. Maybe it was something in the water.

“Fire,” Amber whispered in horror, gazing at a card showing a charred landscape with only a small orange poppy unfurling its pretty bloom. “Scorched earth, change, wiping out the old to make room for the new. This could be disaster, or it could be a controlled burn, but it’s in your present, not the future. So perhaps it represents leaving the old behind and starting fresh?”

“That’s what it feels like,” Sam said with a little more confidence. She was definitely starting with a scorched brain.

Amber breathed a little easier and flipped the next card. Instead of flowers, two eccentrically garbed people faced each other. “Ah, the Earth Goddess! That’s you and the Magician. He must help you fight Judgment—that could be any obstacle in your path. This is a card of power and control. There are forces tugging at you right now. The magician could even be Cass, if she’s working on you in some manner.”

That part made utterly no sense, so Sam stayed silent.

“Now, the future.” Amber flipped one of the three remaining cards and frowned at a large oak surrounded by agricultural images. “This card should interpret similarly to the World card. If this is your future. . . I may be wrong in interpreting the High Priestess, unless we think of you as the future one. This doesn’t seem to answer your question about Cass. It seems to be a spread about you and Hillvale. I’m seeing this scarecrow as Deputy Walker. In this deck, the scarecrow is the same as a knight errant. It could reflect his obsessive need to know everything happening here. He already knows Cass, but he’s still searching for more.”

“Does that mean he’s worried about her?” Sam asked, not understanding.

“No, this line is your future. It means he’ll worry about you. Turn the next card.”

Sam flipped the middle card and admired the tall sunflowers spilling around a fence. It made her even twitchier to think the deputy might someday worry about her, but she could only handle the present right now. The deputy would have to do what deputies did.

“More change,” Amber said, a frown forming above her nose. “Cass is opposed to change, but you might be the harbinger of change. The two of you are in opposition somehow, not enemies but on different sides. Turn the last one.”

The final card showed funeral lilies and a casket. Sam felt a strong urge to flee. “Someone is going to die?”

“No, the card doesn’t necessarily mean death. Or if it does, it can be death of a concept, death of wealth.”

“Or dead flowers,” Sam said with relief. “I hope I don’t kill your planter.”

Amber deliberately set her mouth to a smile. “Of course. I’m being too serious today. I hope they discover that skeleton was just some lost hiker from decades ago. We should think about making the world better with flowers.”

“None of this explains where Cass is,” Sam reminded her.

They both looked at the casket, until Amber scooped up the cards and shuffled them.