Trouble in the Tarot

Book 3: A Sunny Meadows Mystery Series

by Kari Lee Townsend

Genres: Paranormal Cozy Mysteries; Female Sleuths; Paranormal Romance; Humorous gen fiction

Synopsis

For psychic Sunshine Meadows, sometimes fortunes can be deceiving . . .



Lately Sunny has been experiencing a period of big opportunity: her business in Divinity, New York, is thriving, and Detective Mitch Stone has finally agreed to take Sunny on a date. But thanks to her clairvoyant abilities, Sunny knows better than anyone that life deals out bad cards along with the good.



When Sunny agrees to read tarot cards at the annual Summer Solstice Carnival, she meets her Granny Gert's "arch nemesis" Fiona Atwater, and is overcome by a vision of Fiona in a violent argument. Sunny knows trouble is brewing when Granny and Fiona start having squabbles all over town. But the fighting comes to a head when a local baker gets run over by a big white Cadillac—and Granny and Fiona are found at the crime scene.



Sunny knows she should step aside and let Mitch handle the investigating, but she's not about to ignore her visions and leave her granny's life in fate's hands . . .



Contains mature themes.

Release date: March 20, 2021

Publisher: Oliver Heber Books

Print pages: 242

Sample

Chapter One

            “The cards predict a very long week ahead of us, Morty,” I said as I laid out my fortune-telling supplies on a table inside the gazebo in Mini Central Park.

My big, white, beautiful, arrogant cat scowled and gave me a look—as much as a feline can give a look—that said, Duh! Ya think?

“How did I let her talk me into this?” I asked.

Cat or no cat, his scowl deepened, and I swore I could see the brow he didn’t have arch sky-high.

“Fine. Not me, us,” I added, making a set of air quotes. “And don’t give me that look, mister. You can’t say no to her any more than I can.”

I shook my head at the ridiculous traditional, turban-style fortune-teller hat she’d tied to his head because I’d refused to wear one. I was a real psychic and simply used fortune-telling tools to help interpret my visions. I didn’t care to add to the stigma already attached to my profession.

As usual, Granny was clueless and made it clear she thought I was being silly. She thought Morty looked adorable and that his attire added to our authenticity. I didn’t have the energy to argue, so I’d let it go. At least it was an improvement over the god-awful bow ties she usually dressed him up in.

Morty rolled his jet-black eyes, leapt onto the railing, and stretched out in the early morning sunshine. I could see he would be absolutely no help whatsoever.

Just peachy.

The small town of Divinity, located in upstate New York, kicked off the summer every year with its Summer Solstice Carnival. This year June twenty-first fell on a Friday, so the carnival would start today, continue all week with an auction to boot, and end on Sunday, June thirtieth, with the widely popular bakeoff.

My grandmother Gertrude was a member of Trixie’s Sewing Circle, and they were in charge of the carnival this year. Somehow, I’d let Granny Gert talk me into reading tarot cards under the gazebo. All for a good cause, mind you, she’d said, pointing out the money the carnival raised would help the local animal shelter. The carnival committee chose a different charity every year to help support through the carnival proceeds, and this one just happened to be near and dear to my heart.

As cunning as my cat, Granny had pounced. You find such joy in Morty. Why not help others find an animal to love? If we don’t raise enough money to get Animal Angels going, they might have to shut down before they even get started. Just think of what might happen to those critters if they don’t get adopted, she’d said, knowing the word euthanize wasn’t in my vocabulary. So here I was . . .

Nine a.m. on a Friday morning, setting up shop in the park.

I was not an early riser or a coffee drinker. Hot cocoa or tea for me. Only, neither one was doing the trick this morning. I yawned and tugged my belted blouse down over my flowy skirt, then proceeded to pull the rest of my supplies out of the fringed knapsack I carried.

In my line of work, I used all fortune-telling tools to help me interpret my visions. But wanting to keep the carnival readings as simple as possible, I’d chosen to read tarot cards this week.

I glanced around the park. Divinity was an old-fashioned town with antique streetlamps and big, old Victorian houses. Mini Central Park was just as quaint with street lamps, park benches, a gazebo, and even a swan pond.

The other venders were setting up their tents filled with food, crafts, and games, and the carnival workers were giving a final inspection to the rides. The swans in the pond were putting up their usual fuss at having their harmonious habitat invaded, but at least their babies had grown a lot in the last two months.

The sewing circle had been kind enough to assign the gazebo to me. It was right in the middle of the park, and it was big. I’d placed a rope across the entrance so only one person could enter at a time, affording us a bit of privacy for the readings, and I’d even hung my shingle from the roof.

sunny’s sanctuary.

Or, at least, I tried to hang my shingle. After it fell down five times, a tall, distinguished-looking older gentleman named Harry stopped and fixed it, giving me hope that this week might turn out okay after all. He had an unfortunate last name, but he seemed to be a really nice guy.

“Are you sure I can’t pay you or give you a free reading in thanks?” I said.

He hesitated as though he was considering it, but then he looked around a little anxiously as more people arrived to set up. “I don’t care much for crowds,” he responded, clearing his throat. “Besides, I’ve got a date with this fishing pole.” He smiled as he saluted me with his pole and then hurried away.

He’d said he was staying at Divine Inspiration—the charming inn where my parents always stayed—situated on the outskirts of town on Inspiration Lake. Oh, well, hopefully I’d see him again before he left and the rest of the carnival goers would be just as nice.

Normally, I did my readings from the comfort of Vicky, my distinguished, if slightly haunted, ancient Victorian house. But for the sake of the carnival, this gazebo would have to do.

The round wooden gazebo had a built-in table right in the center. I spread a lavender silk scarf over the top to protect the cards’ energy from undesirable vibrations. Next, I placed elemental symbols around the table. I used a stone to represent the earth, a seashell to represent water, a candle to represent fire, and incense to represent the air. Finally, I turned on a soft-sounds-of-nature CD to try to drown out the noise from the carnival and help create a tranquil space.

“Have you seen Granny?” Trixie Irving, a thin, short seamstress with black-and-gray-streaked hair secured in a tight bun, approached me looking a bit frazzled. “I need help with the Sewing Sisters’ booth, and she’s nowhere in sight.”

“Sorry, Trixie, I have no clue. I was just wondering the same thing.”

“Well, okay then. I guess I’ll just have to figure it out myself. I swear, nothing is going right this morning. It’s like a bunch of gremlins are on the loose. Anything that can go wrong is going wrong. If I didn’t know better, I would think something was afoot.” She bustled off, shaking her head and wringing her hands as she talked to herself.

Quincy Turner, the person in charge of the Parks and Rec Program, caught my eye. He kicked the Animal Angels sign over as he walked by their booth. The owner, Ozzie Zuckerman, saw him and came running out, waving his fist in the air. The two argued rather heatedly, and then Quincy huffed off.

I frowned, hoping nothing really was “afoot.” Granny and the rest of the sisters had worked way too hard to make this carnival happen for someone to be sabotaging things. I waved off the notion, thinking I was just looking for mischief given the recent chaos I’d been through. But all of that was behind me now. It was time I started looking for peace and tranquility.

Pulling out my favorite deck of tarot cards, I used fanning powder to keep the cards from sticking together. It was time consuming to individually cover each card with powder and then wipe them off, but it was well worth the effort. The powder made the cards feel wonderful in your hands. When I was finished, I rubbed essential oil on my hands to help invoke the senses of the person I was doing the reading for, and I set out a bowl of chocolates to share.

Now I just needed my first querent to arrive.

“Yoo-hoo. Are you open yet, darling?” a voice said from behind me only moments later.

I spun around in surprise, relieved to finally have my first bona fide customer. She had to be around Granny Gert’s age, but that was where the similarity stopped.

Granny had snow white hair that had been bleached at the age of sixteen from scarlet fever, false teeth, snappy brown eyes, and homemade aprons made from flour sacks. Having lived through the Depression, my granny was a firm believer in waste not, want not and reused everything, even though she had more money than she knew what to do with.

This woman had neatly styled strawberry blond hair, faded blue eyes, and all her own teeth by the look of it, not to mention expensive clothing. She was sharply dressed in tan slacks, a light blue blouse, with a cream-colored cardigan sweater draped loosely over her boney shoulders. Even though the forecast predicted eighty degrees today, mornings were still chilly in New York during the month of June.

She kind of reminded me of what my mother might look like at that age, only this woman seemed a lot more pleasant already. I loved my mother, but she didn’t make life easy.

I pasted a smile on my face and unhooked the rope, wondering who this woman was. I hadn’t seen her around town before. “I’m absolutely open. Step right up, Miss . . . ?”

“Atwater.” She nodded once, all proud-like. “Fiona Atwater in the flesh.”

“Well, I hope so.” I winked, liking her already. “We wouldn’t want to scare anyone away by you standing here without your flesh, now would we?”

She hooted with laughter and waved her hand at me. “Oh, go on with you. You’re Sunny, I take it?” She pointed to my sign.

“Sunshine Meadows in the flesh, but yes, please call me Sunny.”

“Wonderful! The name suits you. With your spiky blond hair and pale green eyes, you look like a big ball of sunshine, no makeup necessary. Aren’t you a lucky one?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” I laughed. “Come on in and have a seat, Fiona, and we’ll get started.” My smile remained, and for the second time this morning, I felt like things were looking up.

She followed me and sat on the other side of the table. “Oh, what a lovely cat.” She reached out to pet Morty, but he hissed at her, and she snatched her hand back. Then he leapt off the railing to prance over to the other side, refusing to look at either of us.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, then gave Morty a stern look that scolded, Naughty boy. Though I had to admit, my curiosity was piqued. Morty was finicky and didn’t warm up to many people easily, but I couldn’t imagine what he found so distasteful about Fiona.

“No worries.” She waved her hand. “I’m more of a dog lover. Maybe he can sense that.”

“I haven’t seen you around before. What brings you to Divinity?” I asked, trying to get to know her better and help her relax. I handed her a piece of chocolate.

“Oh, my. Thank you. I adore chocolate.” She ate the dark square before responding. “Actually, I’m here with my knitting group. We call ourselves the Knitting Nanas. We’re from the city, but we like to get out and explore the small towns within driving distance every summer. This year we chose Divinity, and I have to say it’s just darling.”

“Thank you. We like to think so.” It felt good saying we, like I finally belonged here.

I’d moved to Divinity from the big city to start over nearly six months ago last January. In my book that was long enough to call myself a local, even though some people would like to forget I existed since two murders had happened after my arrival. But all was good now, at least I hoped so. Divinity certainly didn’t need any more drama.

Frankly, neither did I.

“You picked the perfect weekend since today is the opening day of our Summer Solstice Carnival,” I added, focusing on more positive things.

“Well, then, it’s my lucky day. The girls are at the craft tent, of course, but I couldn’t resist your gazebo. I’ve always wanted to have my tarot cards read, but Phillip would never allow anything like that.” Her face looked pinched when she spoke of him. “Now that he’s gone, I do what I want.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Trust me, darling, it was no loss. He’s too ornery to die and leave me, so I left him with half his money. I—”

I held up my hand. “Wait. Don’t tell me any more, or there won’t be anything left for the reading,” I interjected, sensing this woman could talk for hours.

“Oh, my. You’re so right. My mouth runs away from me sometimes.” She pretended to lock her lips and throw away the key, but then she spoke again anyway, as though it killed her to do anything less. “What do we do first?”

“First we center ourselves by breathing deeply and calming our minds and bodies.” I showed her how, and she followed along with me. “Then we ground ourselves by seeing ourselves connected to the earth and pulling the earth’s energy into our core.” She did as I did, and I asked the universe to guide me and help me hear and see my vision clearly. “Can I have your permission to connect with your Higher Self?”

She blinked. “I guess . . . yes. Yes, you may.” She nodded once, sharply, with renewed conviction.

“Good. Place your hands in front of me with your palms up, please.”

She did so without hesitation this time. I slid my hands over hers with my palms down until they lightly touched. I closed my eyes and focused on Fiona, allowing my Higher Self to talk to hers. “I ask for guidance during this reading and that the connection between us remain intact until the reading is complete.” Then I removed my hands from hers.

I opened my eyes and focused on her. “Now, I would like you to ask a question you are seeking the answers to.”

“Oh, this is so exciting.” She stared off in deep concentration, then said, “I’ve got one. I would like to know if I am going to have an exciting vacation this week.”

“Let’s see what the cards have to say. There are several spreads in tarot reading and many ways to interpret the cards. I am going to use a three-card spread for this reading.” I shuffled the cards three times, and then I placed them facedown one at a time on the silk scarf between us. “This first card represents your past. The middle card represents the present. And this last card represents your future.”

Fiona clapped her hands together. “Turn them over, please. I can’t wait anymore. The suspense is killing me.”

I stifled a chuckle and flipped the first card over. XIII Death stared back at me. “It’s the Death card,” I said calmly, already lost in concentration as I considered what it could mean for her in regard to her question.

Fiona gasped loudly and clutched at her heart with both hands, nearly falling off the bench. “Oh, Lordy, I’m not ready to meet my maker.”

I glanced at her in surprise. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” I rushed to say as I reached out and patted her arm. “The Death card rarely means you will physically die. It simply means you have experienced a transformation or new beginning.”

“Honey, startled doesn’t begin to describe how I just felt.” She fanned her pale face. “At my age my heart can’t take a scare like that.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. The card represents the end of something people fear. Based on its position and on what you told me, I suspect this card is referring to the end of your marriage.” I squeezed her hand.

She blinked hard as though I’d touched a nerve, but she was too proud to admit it. “You’re good,” she said. “I thought I was doing a better job of covering my emotions.”

“It’s okay to be a little sad that your marriage has ended, and it’s okay to be afraid of starting over at this stage in your life. Change isn’t always a bad thing.”

She sniffed sharply and pursed her lips before saying, “Things could have been so different if a certain someone hadn’t ruined my life.” Her face hardened. “But the past is the past,” she muttered more to herself. “I’m ready to move on. Show me the next card please.”

“Good for you.” I turned over the middle card and X The Wheel of Fortune stared back at me. Change might not always be a bad thing, but it wasn’t always a good thing, either. I frowned.

“Why are you frowning? What’s wrong now?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe nothing. This is the Wheel of Fortune card.”

Fiona squealed in delight. “Now, that’s more like it. Nothing wrong with that card. I love to gamble. Love not knowing how things are going to turn out.”

“Then you’re going to love this card. The Wheel of Fortune means that random change is at hand. Only, wheels don’t always just turn on their own. Sometimes they are spun. When that happens, no one knows where it might stop. This card basically means your wheel is about to be spun, and things may be up in the air for a while.”

“I’m okay with that. I need for my world to be turned upside down a bit. I need some excitement.” She leaned forward and gave me a devilish look. “I need an adventure.”

“By the look of these cards, I think you’re about to have one. Let’s see what the last card has in store for you.” I turned over the last card, and XI Justice stared back at me. “Wow, this has been quite the reading.”

“How so?” she asked.

“All three of your cards have been part of the Major Arcana.”

“What’s that?”

“Major Arcana cards represent the big secrets or mysteries of your life. Whereas the Minor Arcana and court cards represent the smaller secrets and mysteries of your life. I’d say this reading is quite significant.”

“Good. Like I said, I’m ready for a big change. You said the last card represents the future. What card did you draw for that?”

“Well, with all this change you’re about to experience, you will be forced to act. The Justice card represents the consequences of your actions. This card is not random at all, so think carefully about what you say and do this week. I know you want change, but Karma is a powerful beast. . . .”

Everything around me suddenly blurred, and I fell into the same tunnel vision I always did when my psychic abilities took over. I could see into the future. I was in a woman’s body, but I couldn’t see who she was. I stood across from Fiona, holding a plate of cookies as she held a lemon meringue pie. She was staring down at the pie, looking sad. An overwhelming sense of loss radiated off her. A certain clarity hit me that lemon meringue had been her ex-husband Phillip’s favorite pie, and that he was the one who had left her, not the other way around.

The woman whose body I occupied started speaking, yanking Fiona from her memories, and suddenly we were in a heated argument. I couldn’t hear what words we were shouting at each other, but the feeling of animosity and anger toward Fiona was strong. And Fiona didn’t look any happier to be near the woman. Suddenly, Fiona threw the pie in my face, and a whispered vow coursed through my veins to get even with her at any cost. . . .

“What is wrong with you? Did you see something?” Fiona asked, pulling me from my vision.

I blinked to wash away the darkness and resume my full sight, and then I cleared my throat. “I saw lemon meringue pie.”

I waited to see if she understood the significance and wanted to talk about it, but she stiffened her spine. I could see in her eyes that she knew I knew the truth. But that’s not what she came here for, so I let it go.

“You were arguing with someone you really didn’t like,” I went on.

“Oh, is that all?” She waved me away and sat back in relief as though arguing were as natural to her as breathing. “You had me worried for a minute. Who doesn’t have some enemies?”

I stared deeply into her eyes to make my point more important and hoped she heeded my warning about Karma. “Either you already have an enemy in your Knitting Nanas, or you will make one in town.”

“She already made one sixty-one years ago,” a familiar voice said from behind me.

I whirled around and said, “Granny Gert?” at the same moment that a red-faced Fiona surged to her feet and sputtered, “Gertie Nichols, what on earth are you doing here?”

“I live here, you nincompoop.” Granny ignored me as she untied her plastic rain cap and glared at the other woman. It didn’t matter that the weather was bright and sunny. Granny never rode in any car without her rain cap. “Fiona Atwater, get your frilly fanny out of my town!”

I gasped. That was as close to cussing as I’d ever heard my granny get. Now Morty’s hissing made perfect sense. No one messed with his GG—aka great granny. My gaze shifted back and forth between the two, and the woman holding the cookies in my vision suddenly became crystal clear.

Granny Gert was Fiona’s enemy.

“How do you two know each other?” I asked, thoroughly confused.

“Just so you know, I’m not going anywhere, and you’re the nincompoop,” Fiona snapped back at Granny and then faced me. “You want to know how we know each other?” Fiona asked, then jabbed a finger in Granny’s direction as she said with pure bitterness, “Say hello to the woman who ruined my life.”