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CHAPTER 1
SAN FRANCISCO
Thursday night
Julia histling She was happy, she realized, actually happy, for the first tiiven up, thestories to keep their ratings up And the soulless paparazzi who lurked behind bushes, cars, and trees, one of the to catch her--what?-- a photo to the National Enquirer? Ora murder confession on a tree trunk? They’dcameras back onthan she was Fact was, it was her husband, Dr August Ransonet for the media, not she She’d been only a teotten aitha very famous man and medium, a man who spoke to dead people Free, at last I’m free
She didn’t kno far she’d walked frohts, but now she found herself strolling down Pier 39 on the bay, that purest of tourist attractions, with its shops and clever white-faceddistance froe store, and now stood by the railing at the western side of Pier 39, chewing slowly on her precious piece of walnut fudge, watching the dozens of obese seals stretched out on flat wooden barges beside the pier She heard the sounds of people talking around her, laughing, joking around, arguing, parents threatening or bribing their kids, all of it sounding so normal--it felt wonderful In April, in San Francisco, it wasn’t the April showers that brought the May flowers, it was the lovely webby fog that rolled through the Golden Gate Bridge The a sy, a bit damp, with a bit of a bite
She wandered to the end of the pier and looked across the water toward Alcatraz, which was not that far away, really, but the swim could kill you, either the vicious currents or the icy water She turned and leaned her elbows on the railing, watching the people hungrily There weren’t that many andered down to the very end of the pier She watched the lights begin to co down fast, but she didn’t feel cold in her funky leather jacket She’d found the jacket at a garage sale in Boston when she was in college, and it was still her favorite August had looked both sour and amused when she’d worn that jacket Because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, she never told hi Julia again--buoyant, in both her heart and spirit But August wasn’t here now, and she felt so lighthearted and young in that ht off the thick wooden planks She was unaware of just how much time passed, but suddenly there was hts were on The few tourists who hadn’t returned to their hotels for the night had entered one of the half-dozen nearby restaurants for dinner She looked down at her watch--nearly seven-thirty She reht at the Fountain Club with Wallace Tao into the psychic business thirty years before He’d been a longtiust’s, had told her countless tiust had been welcoust actually didn’t knoho’d murdered him, nor did he particularly care He was now happy, and he would always look out for her
Julia had accepted his words After all, Wallace was August’s friend, as legitiust had scoffed at many of those so-called psychic ust at their antics, even as he praised their showmanship What did she believe? Like many people, Julia wanted to believe there were certain special people who could speak to the dead She believed to her soul that August was one of them, but there were very few like hi her years with August Even though she’d said nothing, it see to them, any loved ones who died, no , were always blissfully happy in the afterlife, always content and at peace, even reunited with their long-dead pets But she couldn’t help but wonder if August really was happy in The Bliss, wonder if he didn’t want the person who’d murdered him to pay Who wouldn’t? She did She’d asked his friends and colleagues in the psychic medium world if they could discover who had killed hiift This lack of vision was unfortunate, especially for Julia, since the police had fastened their eyes on her and looked nowhere else, at least as far as she could tell