Читать книгу The Coldest Fear - Debra Webb - Страница 16

Nine

East River Street

2:30 p.m.

“How’re you today, Ms. Balfour?” Amelia Potter smiled as her oldest client settled at the table. The elderly woman refused to allow anyone to assist her into or out of a chair. She contended that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

“I’m just peachy.” Ninety-four-year-old Camille Balfour propped her umbrella against her chair and then loosened her scarf to let it drop from her head to her shoulders. “Every morning I wake up is a blessing.”

“A blessing, indeed.” Amelia had already washed her hands so she picked up her deck. The worn cards felt like an extension of her. She’d found this deck twenty-five years ago and she’d used it since. A good deck of tarot cards was like an old, dependable friend. Part of the magic was in the relationship. “I hear those great-grandchildren came to see you this past weekend.”

Camille’s smile chased away the ravages of age, lifted her sagging jowls and brightened her eyes. “You better believe it. Lauren graduated from medical school back in May and Gwyneth will graduate next spring. She’s going to be an attorney. Two smart girls.”

“Just like their great-grandma.”

Camille reached across the table with one hand gnarled by the progression of rheumatoid arthritis and clasped Amelia’s. “I’m having visions again.” She exhaled a shaky breath. “I’ve been worrying about you all week.”

Camille had never been a reader of the tarot. She’d never traded her knowing for money the way Amelia did, but not all were blessed with family money. The truth was until Camille had confided in Amelia that she felt things, she’d never before confessed aloud her abilities for fear of reprisal from her late husband, from his family and the community. She had held firm to her station in life and never permitted the slightest impropriety. It was the way of things with her generation.

Amelia set her cards aside and patted the dear woman’s hand. “Why in the world would you be worrying about me?”

Camille chuckled. “You know I’ve always had a soft spot for you, Mia.”

No one called her Mia except Camille. Amelia’s parents had kicked her out of their home outside Atlanta when she was sixteen. She didn’t hold it against them. She’d allowed herself to get involved with drugs and the wrong people. Three years of dealing with her issues had worn down her parents. It was a miracle she had survived her own recklessness. A sad smile tugged at her lips. If she hadn’t come to Savannah and ended up pregnant, she might have lost her life to those damned drugs.

Her little boy had saved her. Her heart squeezed painfully. If only...

Cold fingers tightened on her hand. “Mia, someone is coming and whoever it is she won’t let me sleep. I keep seeing her running through the woods with you. The trouble is right behind the two of you and I...” She shook her head, her rheumy eyes shining with emotion. “I’m terrified for you, Mia.”

Amelia smiled at her old friend. “For thirty-seven years you’ve helped me. Whether it was a safe bed to sleep in or a hot meal in my belly, you watched out for me until I could watch out for myself.” She didn’t mention how Camille had ensured Amelia was accepted at one of the best private rehab facilities in Georgia all those years ago or how she’d cosigned with her at the bank when she purchased this shop. Her friend was well aware of all she’d done. “It’s time for me to watch out for you. You don’t need to worry about me anymore. I’m doing just fine.”