Ghost Walk. Heather Graham

Mrs. Montobello said, rheumy blue eyes studying Nikki in far too serious a manner.

      “No. I have a feel for history, and I think I’m a good storyteller,” Nikki said. “I do not talk to ghosts.”

      “So you don’t talk to them, but do they talk to you?” Mrs. Montobello asked.

      “Good heavens, no!” Nikki said. “I’d have a heart attack on the spot if that happened. And if they’re out there,” Nikki said mischievously, “they apparently know that.”

      “Maybe they will talk to you one day,” Mrs. Montobello murmured. “I suppose, just like plain folk, ghosts need to have something to say. But you believe they’re out there—I can tell.”

      Nikki felt a sudden chill. Yes, she believed in ghosts, or if not ghosts, per se, in a memory that lingered in certain places.

      It sure as hell wasn’t something she was going to share with anyone.

      Not even Mrs. Montobello.

      “At my age,” the old woman said, “you come to know a difference in this world, perhaps because you’re so close to the next.”

      She was still studying Nikki closely. Nikki found herself staring back for a long moment.

      For a moment she found herself thinking, I can see a fog. And I can feel the cold, an essence, a feeling…when someone is lost, when they’re frustrated. Looking for something. They’re benign, meaning no harm, and they are no more than mist, something in my heart, or imagination.

      Then she shook off the feeling, and they continued to chat as Nikki and Andy picked up the tea they had made for Mrs. Montobello, washed and dried and straightened, and then headed out.

      At the door, Mrs. Montobello stared at Nikki strangely again. “Go shopping. Listen to the music. But stay away from shysters.”

      As they walked along the streets, past neon lights, garish come-ons, charming boutiques, and bars and clubs that wailed with blues and pop and everything in between, Andy suddenly stopped. “Isn’t it funny? I feel like a little kid. Mrs. Montobello just said we shouldn’t stop by a voodoo shop, so now I’m itching for a palm reading.”

      “Andy, come on, they’re just silly.”

      “Okay, how about a tarot card reading?”

      Nikki hesitated, staring at her. “Just let me buy that corset I want and I’ll take you to a good place.”

      “Yeah?”

      “We won’t tell Mrs. Montobello.”

      Nikki liked the boutique where she purchased the corset. Everything was unique and handmade. But since Andy seemed restless, she didn’t take the time to look around, just made her purchase, and then they headed for Conte Street.

      The name of the place was Contessa Moodoo’s Hoodoo Voodoo. Not promising, Nikki admitted as Andy stared at her, but she knew the woman who owned the shop fairly well. She was large, of mixed ancestry, African, Native American, white…maybe even some Asian, and whatever her real name might have been, she didn’t use it. She just went by Contessa. She had long ago told Nikki that her potions were just what they said on the bottles—vitamins, with maybe a few herbs thrown in. And in her readings…well, she told people what they wanted to hear.

      After purchasing a love potion, a bottle of vitamin E and a few sachets, Nikki introduced Andy.

      “And,” she said, “my friend wants a reading.”

      Contessa had remarkable eyes, like marbles, so many colors it would be hard to describe them in any customary way. Hazel was the best Nikki could summon, but they sometimes looked almost blue, sometimes gray, and sometimes they seemed very dark and mysterious.

      She stared at Andy with a shrug. “Come on, then.” Contessa had a little nook, filled with the pleasant scent of incense, and blocked off from the rest of the room by a bead curtain. They walked by voodoo dolls, more potions and curios to reach it.

      Contessa took a seat behind a table with a beautiful crystal ball in the middle—she had long ago told Nikki it was just for looks. She indicated that Andy should take the chair opposite her.

      She picked up her deck of cards and asked Andy to hold them. Then she took them and dealt them out.

      But as she flipped the first over, she paused. Andy touched a card, and this time, Contessa swept up the deck, shaking her head. “The cards aren’t talking tonight, I’m sorry,” she said.

      Nikki stared at her, puzzled. She brought people here because she knew that Contessa would find something uplifting to say to her clients. A decision looms before you, think long and carefully. Or There has beena division of sorts in your life and you must consider the past and remember that forgiveness is something we all must feel, if we are to be happy with ourselves. Or even, The future is bright, go for it.

      “Okay, how about a palm reading?” Andy suggested.

      Contessa stiffened, lowering her head. Nikki saw Andy smile, as if she were applauding the act. But Nikki knew this was no act.

      With a sigh, Contessa held Andy’s palm, looking very serious. At last she looked up at her. “You be careful, young woman. Very careful.”

      “Why?” Andy demanded.

      “When you’re home, you lock yourself in. Don’t go talking to no strangers. And…”

      “And?” Andy demanded.

      “There’s something…” Contessa muttered.

      “Oh,” Andy said lightly. “I lived a pretty hard life for a while. Drugs,” she admitted. “But I’m clean as a whistle now. Honestly.”

      “You lock your doors,” Contessa said. “And you keep away from those no-accounts, you hear?”

      “Yes, ma’am. And thank you. What else? Am I going to fall in love?” Andy demanded.

      Contessa kept her strange mottled eyes on Andy; she didn’t look at her hand again.

      “We all fall in love, don’t we?” she asked. Then she added, “Okay, shoo, now. Off you go. And keep those doors locked!”

      Nikki was surprised when Contessa all but hustled them out the door.

      “But I didn’t pay you!” Andy protested.

      “Honey, you don’t owe me a thing. Now git. There’s a world out there to be lived. You go live it quick.”

      The door closed behind them with a soft ringing of bells.

      Andy burst into laughter. “Well, you and Mrs. Montobello are right. She sounds more like a mother than a psychologist. Go home, lock your doors. Watch out for strangers. Well, she was fun, anyway. Thanks, Nikki.”

      Nikki nodded, not knowing why she was feeling disturbed when Andy was amused.

      “Strange, though, huh? I’ll bet she could tell I’d been a junkie once upon a time.” Andy sighed. “Hey…you don’t think, if Max knew about my past, that he’d fire me, do you?”

      “No. And who knows about Max’s past, anyway?” Nikki joked. Then she turned serious. “Andy, you had a hard life, but you’ve risen above it. Contessa gave you good advice. Watch out for anyone who might want to drag you down again. That’s it.”

      “She warned me to watch out for strangers. Let me tell you, there were some damn strange people in my past, that’s for sure.”

      “So leave them in the past.”

      “Yeah, well…sometimes I wonder if they’ll come back to haunt me, no matter where I leave them.” She hesitated. “Did you ever smoke, Nikki?”

      “Smoke…you mean cigarettes?”

      Andy laughed. “Yes, I meant cigarettes!”

      “In