Trouble in Paradise - [8]

“Oh my God!” Erica lunged for it. “That’s Tammy Susie’s phone!”

I held her back. “It might have prints. Let me do it.” I gingerly picked it up without touching the front or back. Now we knew why she hadn’t called. But the discovery was almost as puzzling as it was alarming. “Why would the kidnapper let her keep the phone this long? Why not take it from her right away?”

“Maybe the kidnapper was the one who dropped it,” Bailey said. She carefully took it from me and used a pen to scroll through the recent calls. “Nothing in or out since this morning.”

Toni voiced my thought. “Regardless of who dropped the thing, it’s pretty amateurish.”

I was about to say that, given the low crime rates, most criminals around here probably were amateurs, but at that moment, I noticed a sign across the street advertising MADAM JUNAIDA, PREMIER FORTUNE-TELLER.

“Didn’t you say Tammy Susie was about to do a show where the whole family visits a fortune-teller?” I pointed to the sign.

Erica shook her head. “That’s not the one they were going to use for the show.” But she was more than happy to grasp at any straw, no matter how slim, if it meant delaying our return to the hotel without Tammy Susie.

And so off we went to see the fortune-teller. Madam Junaida, a tiny, dark woman with a mass of fuzzy black hair piled high on her head and long dangling earrings, answered the door with a flourish. In spite of her small stature, she had a supremely imperial air about her. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

I’d expected a fortune-teller on a Caribbean island to be more exotic and mysterious than what we had in the States, but Madam Junaida’s setup would’ve been right at home in any suburb in Southern California-or any late-night infomercial. She swept through a glass-beaded curtain, and we followed her into a darkened room. At the center was a table surrounded by several red velvet-covered chairs. The only thing missing was a crystal ball.

I pulled out my cell and showed her the photo of Tammy Susie. I started to ask if she recognized the picture, but she abruptly held up a hand that clanked loudly with the movement of at least a dozen bangles. “Please! Respect my process. All of you, sit down.”

I sank into the chair gratefully. Between the mall and the outdoor market, I’d been on my feet for hours. When we were all settled, Madam held out her hand, palm up. “Now, give me the photo.”

I placed my phone in her hand, and she studied it through narrowed eyes. Then she set it down, picked up a fat cigar, lit it, and drew several hefty puffs. In the confines of that small box of a room, it was enough to make me gag. I felt my stomach lurch and asked myself why I’d been so gung ho to come here. A glance at Toni and Bailey confirmed they were having similar thoughts. Erica had turned a pale green.

When Madam Junaida had the cigar fully fired up, she took a strong pull and blew out a thick stream of smoke. Then she sat back and watched it curl toward the darkened ceiling. I tried to spot something-some shapes, maybe letters, anything that might be called a “sign.” All I saw was a cloud of foul-smelling tobacco. Not for the first time, I conceded it was a good thing I’d gone to law school.

Minutes passed while Madam Junaida gazed at the ceiling. Antsy and more than a little nauseated, I was just about to call it quits when she spoke up in a dusky, sonorous voice.

“You are afraid this girl has been harmed, correct?”

All those noxious fumes, and this was all she could come up with? Even without lighting up a stogie, I could’ve figured out that much.

But Erica was completely taken in. “Yes,” she squeaked.

“She is safe,” Madam pronounced.

Jeez, brilliant. No proof, no details, just the answer we obviously wanted. What a racket. “That’s really nice to know, but we need to actually find her,” I said. I could see Toni and Bailey smirking. Skepticism comes with the territory in law enforcement, but they tell me I take it to Olympic levels.

Madam Junaida gave me a sharp, knowing look and again spewed out a toxic cloud. After another smelly minute, she spoke.

“I see… a house with green shutters. And a dog… a yellow dog. And children.” She straightened up in her chair. “Your girl is there.”

“Where is there?” Bailey asked. “Where’s that house?”

Madam Junaida studied the burning end of the cigar. “It is not far.” She looked back up at the ceiling. “Someone close to you knows of this place.”

“Close to who? To me? Toni?” I asked. “Erica?”

She shook her head. “That is all I see.”

I leaned toward Toni and whispered, “I’d like to tell her what I see.”

Toni gave me a warning look and quickly jumped in. “Thank you, Madam Junaida,” she said.

Madam Junaida escorted us out. I hung back as the others left. When we walked into the place, I’d only intended to ask if she’d seen Tammy Susie, not engage her services. But, bidden or unbidden, she’d taken the time to do her entire shtick for us, and I could see from her modest digs that business wasn’t exactly booming for her. “What do I owe you?”