Chapter Twenty-Three.

He heard someone clear his throat and he turned to see Mikey. He managed to keep a straight face as he took in the sight. Mikey was wearing a long dress in a particularly vivid shade of fuchsia, with a white lace shawl wrapped around his shoulders. His long, dark curly hair came down to his shoulders, and he had a big pink flower pinned over one ear. He held his hand out to shake Jacob's and the bangles on his wrist jangled together.

Allen shook his hand and was led into and room behind one of the sarongs. It was dark and took a minute for his eyes to adjust. There were two high backed chairs opposite each other with a round table in the center. A large crystal ball sat in the middle of the table raised up on a gold stand. A deck of tarot cards was on the table next to it.

Mikey sat down in one of the chairs, and Allen sat stiffly across from him. Lighting a stick of incense and placing it in a holder, Mikey lit a couple candles as well. Picking up the deck of cards, he set out three piles, and then turned over the top card of each stack.

"The first card is the Tower. In this case, I believe this card stands for destruction. This second card is the Two of Cups, symbolizing a partnership. The last card is Justice, which will hopefully be the end result." Mikey shuffled the cards and set them down in one stack. "That's just the quickie version. I could go into a lot more detail with a full reading, but that will have to wait."

Allen leaned back in the chair. It was overstuffed, very soft and comfortable. "You said on the phone that someone was contacting you?" he said. Mikey gave him a level look. "I know a lot of people like to dismiss any kind of psychic ability as clever tricks. But I've been having the same nightmare over and over for several months now. At least once a week, usually. Now if your name hadn't come up in the dream, I would have probably called someone else. Jacob Esau Allen. You are a Gemini, with the tenacity of a pit bull and the heart of Golden Retriever. I say that, because you are such a dog person. Even thought you don't have a dog right now, you should. I can tell just from looking at you."

The detective tried to keep a poker face, but that was cutting it close. He supposed this guy could have looked the information up somewhere, but he wasn't sure.

"Okay, one final attempt to get you to believe me. Give me something out of your pocket?" Mikey told him. Jacob put his hand in his pocket and fished around for a moment, finally pulling out a piece of paper to hand to him. Mikey held the paper in his hand, palm up and open. After a moment he started to speak.

"Very long dark hair, bright blue eyes. Determined, but she's not being completely honest with you. Deep pain, buried. Short and thin, but muscular and stronger than she looks." Mikey opened his eyes. "Does that sound familiar to you?"

Jacob looked at the piece of paper that Mikey held. On it was Dana's cell phone number. Okay, he thought to himself, I'll go for it for now.

"Okay, you have my attention now. Tell me what you have," he said, leaning forward and setting his hands on the table.

Mikey leaned back in the chair with his hands on the doilies covering the arms. "In this dream or vision, if you will, there is a blonde woman covered in blood. Sometimes her face changes a little bit, I can't tell if it's one woman or several. But she repeats your name, telling me I must talk to you. There's something wrong with her stomach, but I can never see what exactly why, it's all just red with blood. That's why I think it's more of a vision, because the colors are so bright." Allen restrained himself from making a comment about being colorful. Mikey continued, "Then after the woman speaks, she points to the wall where a painting is hanging. The painting is of a man, he's bald and clean-shaven, but has strange eyes. In the painting, his skin is very white, ghostly" He leaned forward suddenly, slapping his hands down on the table.

"That's what she knows! She knows that man!" Jacob was startled by the outburst, "The blonde woman?" he asked. Mikey looked him in the eye.

"No. The black haired girl. She knows who he is." Allen felt a shock go though him. His first thought was that she might be in danger. His second thought was why hadn't she told him?

"Can you bring her here?" Mikey asked him. Jacob snorted. "I think she's even more cynical than I am. I don't think so." After thinking for a moment, he asked Mikey, "Would you come down to my office? I was thinking that I could get the sketch artist in, possible come up with a picture to work with." The flamboyant man looked up at the grandfather clock that stood against the wall by the doorway. "I have an appointment in forty minutes, I can come down after that." He cocked his head to the side and smiled. "What are you going to tell this artist?" "I'll come up with something. Probably that you are a witness to a case." Jacob stood up to leave. As he walked toward the exit, he turned back and thanked Mikey.

As he walked to his car, he took out his phone and dialed a number. A woman picked up and agreed to meet him in his office later in the afternoon. Next, he dialed Dana's number. She didn't answer her phone, and he wondered if she were out on a scene or if she just saw the number and didn't answer.

He drove back downtown to his office. Several of the people that had been in his office over the last few days and had looked at his charts all had suggestions and comments that he needed to look into. It looked like the rest of today was going to be a desk day.