Barclay, Linwood Novel 08 - Never saw it coming

car? Lester’s car?”
    “No, your wife’s car. A Nissan.” She had read what kind it was online.
    “That’s right. A 2007. It’s silver. What about the car?”
    Keisha closed her eyes again. Took her hands off the robe that was still in her lap and rubbed her temples. “It’s . . . the car’s not on the road.”
    Garfield said nothing.
    “It’s definitely not on the road. It’s . . . it’s . . .”
    Garfield seemed to be holding his breath. “It’s what?” he asked, suddenly impatient. “If it’s not on the road, then where the hell is it?”
    Keisha took her fingers away from her head, opened her eyes, and looked the man squarely in the eye.
    “I think that’s as far as I can go right now, Mr. Garfield.”
    “What are you talking about? What’s this about her car?”
    “Mr. Garfield, I believe I’m closing in on something, and it’s going to require all my powers of concentration. I don’t want to be distracted, wondering whether you’re going to do the right thing.”
    He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth and over his teeth.
    “The money,” he said.
    “Yes,” Keisha said.
    “I don’t have a thousand dollars lying around the house.”
    “How much do you have?”
    “Three hundred, maybe.”
    “I’ll take a check for the balance,” she said obligingly.

Ten
    Garfield had to admit, when this so-called psychic talked about Ellie being so very cold, it scared the shit out of him.
    When she hadn’t gone into specifics, he figured it meant nothing. It was winter. It was cold. Big deal. Didn’t mean the woman was frickin’ Nostradamus. She had about as much skill communicating with the missing and the dead as that weather lady on the six o’clock news did predicting whether it was going to snow tomorrow.
    But then she mentioned the car. Why had she suddenly wanted to talk about the car? And then she went and said it was “definitely not on the road.”
    She sure had that right.
    That car was at the bottom of Fairfield Lake, forty miles north of here. No one was going to find it, not for a very long time, if ever. Water had to be forty, fifty feet deep there, he bet. It was probably already covered over with ice. It had gotten colder since Thursday night. It’d be spring before there was even a remote chance of anyone finding it. Someone would have to be diving, right there, to come across it. And even if some fishermen snagged on to it, it wasn’t like the car was going to float to the surface like an old boot. They’d have to cut their line, put on a new hook.
    How could Keisha Ceylon know the car was not on the road?
    It could be a lucky guess. Simple as that. She could just be making the whole thing up. But what if she wasn’t?
    In that case, Garfield could imagine only two scenarios.
    One, this woman actually had some kind of second sight. He’d never bought into that kind of thing, not like his older sister Gail, who believed it was very possible she was Nefertiti in an earlier life, bought all those books by Sylvia Browne—even got them on audio so she could hear them in the car—and claimed that at the moment their father died, he appeared before her to say how sorry he was he’d never told her he loved her. Gail’s husband, Jerry, said she was snoring up a storm at the time, but so be it.
    While Garfield was a skeptic, he was also willing to admit there might be forces at work out there he didn’t fully understand. Maybe some people really did have special sensitivities and could pick up things everyone else missed. Maybe this woman did have visions. How else could you explain that story about Nina, the little girl kidnapped by the neighbor?
    So if she had this gift, and really had had a vision about Ellie, then she knew something.
    The other scenario—a no less comforting one—was that this psychic thing was an act. A total sham. Complete and utter bullshit. A performance, to cover the fact that the information she had had come to her in a much less mystical way.
    She had
seen
what happened. Not in a vision, but with her own eyes.
    Garfield thought about that as he went into the kitchen for the three hundred in cash and his checkbook.
    Suppose she had been there?
    What if Keisha Ceylon had been at the lake that night? Maybe she lived in one of the cabins that lined the shore. On his way up there, Garfield had felt confident there wouldn’t be any witnesses. That stretch of the lake was taken up mostly with seasonal properties. This time of year,