The psychics the thing, p.1
The Psychic's the Thing, page 1
The Psychic’s The Thing
Shady Grove Psychic Mysteries
Book 7
Ada Bell
Empress Books
Also by Ada Bell
Shady Grove Psychic Mysteries
Mystic Pieces
The Scry’s the Limit
Sight Seering
Mystic Treasure (Book 3.5)
Seer Today, Gone Tomorrow
The Pie in the Scry
Mystic Persons
The Psychic’s the Thing
A Run for the Mystic
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8 Maids a-Meddlin’ (novella)
* * *
Haunted Haven Series
Unfinished Witchness
Risky Witchness
Open for Witchness
Bundles and Boxed Sets
Shady Grove Psychic Mysteries 1-3
Shady Grove Psychic Mysteries 4-6
Haunted Haven Mysteries 1-3
Praise for Ada Bell
“Mystic Pieces is a charming, humorous, and original mystery that weaves a tale of murder and self-discovery with heart, family, and psychic visions.”
Readers' Favorite
“…I liked Aly as a main character and reading about her and her powers. I liked the side characters and how each had their own personality that made it easy to remember. All in all I really enjoyed this book and look forward to the next book in the series!”
Lola’s Book Reviews
“A cute and cozy introduction to the quirky and devoted characters, Mystic Pieces is the perfect first installment to the Shady Grove Psychic Mystery Series.”
Literary Lioness
Much Ado About Murder
After Aly’s roommate proposes trying out for the spring play, Aly’s surprised to be cast as an understudy to the lead. The star of the show, Erica, is a real diva, so Aly vows to learn her lines and stay behind the scenes. But when a stage light falls onto their star, it’s curtains for Erica. Her death looks like a tragic accident until Aly receives a vision of murder.
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Initially, the police think Aly killed Erica to take her part, but what they don’t know is how badly her roommate Amy wanted the role. Or her history with Erica. When Amy takes center stage as the prime suspect, Aly assumes the detective role once more to prove her friend’s innocence. She just needs to do it without further implicating herself.
* * *
Erica treated the entire cast and crew with contempt; who hated her enough to kill? Was it the ex-boyfriend forced to share the spotlight with the woman he once loved? The costume designer whose hard work wound up in tatters? Or was it the rival furious that Erica got cast as the lead? With Aly’s help, maybe the play’s the thing to catch the conscience of the killer.
The attached novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, or events is merely a coincidence.
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Copyright © 2024 by Laura Heffernan. Cover image by Victoria Cooper. Mystic crystal ball image ©2020 by simply whyte design. Used with permission.
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.
Empress Books
P.O. Box 1572
Clifton Park, NY 12065
Created with Vellum
To Shana,
* * *
I couldn’t reasonably dedicate a book about the theater to anyone else.
Chapter One
The sign loomed overhead ominously. My roommate, Amy Zhao, and I stood in front of the campus theater, a beautiful old building where she’d performed several times. With its double doors, columns, and peaked roof, the whole thing looked like a small castle. Under ordinary circumstances, it created a comforting presence on the campus, a familiar place where magic happened when students took the stage. But at the moment, I couldn’t get past that terrifying sign.
The longer I stared, the harder it became to breathe. There was no escape from the inherent threat behind the message.
AUDITIONS TODAY.
“Come on!” Amy tugged my arm. “At this rate, they’ll cast the whole play before we show up.”
“That’s the goal,” I mumbled.
She put her hands on her hips. “You promised!”
“I know, I know.”
Although we were primarily a science-focused institution, Maloney College offered a drama minor, probably due to our proximity to New York City. Amy had been in every production since she’d enrolled. We’d met as transfer students during my junior year, her sophomore, when the college paired us up as roommates. I’d happily attended every play since, but at some point, she’d decided my support from the sidelines wasn’t enough. It sounded like fun, so I figured I’d tag along and see if they wanted to give me a minor part. Now that we were here, though, stage fright held me tightly in its grip.
Forcing a smile, I turned away from the sign. Amy linked her elbow through mine and skipped toward the double doors. Although she feared her short black hair and fawn-colored complexion would preclude her from consideration for Beatrice, her talent spoke for itself.
“Remember when Kenneth Branagh directed Much Ado About Nothing?” I asked. “He picked the best actors, period. You’ll be amazing.”
“I just hope the director thinks so,” Amy said as she smoothed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “This guy’s new. He’s a total question mark. With Professor Woods, we knew what to expect.”
Although I’d learned over break that the college recently hired a new director, it hadn’t occurred to me to wonder about the person previously filling the role. “Professor Woods? What happened to him?”
“No one knows. He disappeared.”
A missing person? Infinitely more interesting than auditions. “That’s so weird. No one said why he left?”
“It’s apparently a big secret. Very hush-hush. His email address started bouncing messages, and that was that. The other professors wouldn’t say anything. We’re lucky Nick turned up when he did. Come on!”
“Wait! I want to hear more about this missing teacher. Something terrible might have happened to him.” While I was absolutely stalling, her story really intrigued me.
Amy snorted. “Nice try. Wouldn’t it be nice to go one semester without having to solve a mystery?”
Since coming to Shady Grove, I’d found myself involved in one unfortunate situation after another, largely due to the discovery of my psychic powers. When the police got stuck, sometimes my special abilities had helped point them in the right direction.
For the next few months, all I wanted was to focus on finishing my first year of master’s biology courses, go to work, and spend time with my loved ones. Including Amy, which took me right back to the front of the theater.
“I’m working on a case right now,” I grumbled. “The Mystery of Why Aly Agreed to Audition.”
“You’ll love it.”
My boyfriend approached, putting one arm around my shoulders. I snuggled into him as he leaned down for a hello kiss.
Cal Brunner was also a graduate student. We’d met in class shortly after I transferred to Maloney. His freshly washed red hair was still damp, a couple of pieces falling across his face.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I said.
“Everything okay?”
“No,” I said immediately. “Please take me home.”
“Just some last-minute stage fright,” Amy said.
“Ah. I get it,” Cal said. “Aly, we agreed to do the play because we’ll spend more time with Amy. Also, after the audition, I’m taking you to the new cookie place.”
“Cookies? Why didn’t you say so?” I headed for the entrance.
“How did you do that?” Amy asked behind me.
“You just have to know how to talk to her.”
“Come on, slowpokes!” I yelled, yanking the door open.
Although I’d been to this theater half a dozen times, its beauty always took my breath away. In the past two hundred years, thousands of performances had played out inside these walls. My hometown of Sacramento, California didn’t have the same history as the northeastern United States. These old buildings spoke to me.
Cal and Amy moved ahead while I stopped to appreciate the massive golden curtain on the stage, red velvet walls, and plush seats.
Someone slammed into my back. I fell forward, catching myself on the edge of an armrest. A high-pitched voice called out. “Excuse you!”
“Excuse yourself!” Amy called as a girl brushed past us. I caught a glimpse of chestnut-colored hair before Cal returned to check on me.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” I said. “I shouldn’t have stopped in the middle of the aisle. Who was that?”
“Erica Peters.” Amy didn’t so much speak her name as spit it. “Thinks she’s God’s gift. Her parents donate a lot of money to the school to get her the best roles, and she acts like she’s entitled to them.”
The name sounded familiar. “Wasn’t she in the show you did last fall? I thought she was pretty good. Not that I know anything about acting… Obviously, you were better.”
“Nice save,” Cal said.
I shushed him.
Amy sniffed. “She could be worse. It’s not only that. She flew to Los Angeles over the break to record a TV pilot. I hoped she would stay.”
Somehow I avoided the temptation to point out that if Erica got cast on a legit television show, she must be a decent actress. Luckily, I was saved from responding by the arrival of our director, Nick Patel.
Although I’d become friends with Nick’s half sister, Amira, over the year since discovering my powers, I’d only met her brother recently. Amira ran the magic shop on Main Street. Her skills had come in handy more than once, but she’d never mentioned a sibling. Nick’s arrival in Shady Grove at the end of last year was a big surprise. He’d been outgoing and friendly enough, but Amira told me his moral compass didn’t always point north. Needless to say, they weren’t close.
When Nick took the stage, he dominated the space. He stood a couple of inches shorter than Amy, making him around five-foot-nine. He had smooth, medium brown skin and a solid build, neither skinny nor overly muscular. Since we’d last met, he’d covered up the gray in his hair, making him appear closer to thirty than I knew he was. With his newly dyed black hair, brown eyes, and stubble, he was pretty good-looking for an older guy. None of that explained the way everyone’s eyes turned toward him.
This guy had presence. The same invisible force that made heads swivel toward Amy when she entered a room.
Her face lit up when he started speaking. She wasn’t alone. Everyone looked riveted by our director’s arrival.
“Good afternoon, and welcome! I’m thrilled to see so many faces ready to try out for our little production. For those who don’t know, I’ve decided to start my career here with a bang. We’re going to take on the master—Mr. William Shakespeare! And because I love to laugh, I’ve chosen one of his greatest comedies.”
Most people in the front rows were undergraduate students. They looked familiar because Amy hung out with them, but I only knew Will, a junior who’d appeared with her in The Importance of Being Earnest last fall. He sat near Erica, who had somehow snagged the middle seat, despite being one of the last to arrive.
She gazed up at Nick with unmasked adoration as he continued telling us about the production. When she caught his eye, he beamed at her. Beside me, Amy stiffened.
“Look at her!” she hissed. “Teacher’s pet.”
In one of the back rows sat my friend Tiffaneigh, reading a giant textbook and twirling the end of one long black braid. We’d met my first semester at Maloney College, when our shared major landed us in several of the same classes. Our initial rivalry turned into a close friendship over time. In her usual ankle-length skirt and yellow cardigan buttoned to her chin, Tiffaneigh looked more prepared to audition for Little House on the Prairie than Shakespeare.
My friend was far more studious than artistic. Although we’d discussed the upcoming play a few times, she’d been non-committal. It was equally likely that she planned to audition or she’d ducked in to study someplace warm.
When Nick asked everyone to line up alphabetically by last name, Cal headed toward the stage while I waited for the others to go ahead. “Reynolds” put me far enough down the list that there was no need to rush. That didn’t deter Amy. Although “Zhao” landed her in last place, she already stood at the back of the theater, waiting for the rest of the line to catch up.
Tiffaneigh (Pratt) put her book aside and went to stand behind Erica, who had started loudly managing the line. “No! You can’t get in here. It’s L, M, N, O, P, Q, R! Peters, then Reynolds.”
Tiffaneigh smirked at her. “Do you know my last name?”
“Should I?”
“Only if you don’t want to embarrass yourself.”
I put myself between them. “Hey! Erica Peters, I’d like you to meet Tiffaneigh Pratt. I’m Aly Reynolds, but it sounds like you knew that.”
Erica’s eyes widened and for half a second, I thought she was going to apologize. Then she opened her mouth. “Reynolds doesn’t go between Peters and Pratt.”
Rolling my eyes, I stepped backward, almost knocking into the poor guy behind me.
Tiffaneigh turned around. “Gee, Aly, don’t you know the alphabet? It’s B-I-T-”
My loud cough swallowed the rest of her comment. Erica glared at us.
To calm my nerves, I recited the elements of the periodic table. It was weird, sure, but I always felt better. The list had become a meditation. Then I went through my prepared monologue again under my breath. Although I didn’t have any theater experience, I’d watched Finding Nemo with my five-year-old nephew enough to recite Dory’s speech in my sleep.
The line moved quickly, and we reached the front sooner than expected. Before taking the stage, Erica turned to hiss at me and Tiffaneigh. “Watch and learn.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed.
“What is wrong with that girl?” Tiffaneigh asked.
The guy behind me said, “Don’t mind her. She treats everyone like that. It just means she noticed you.”
“How lovely for us,” Tiffaneigh muttered. “I’ll try harder to be invisible.”
I turned to look at the speaker. He was tall, probably about six feet, and lean but not scrawny. He had short brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and a goatee. Earlier, he’d been sitting beside Will.
“Like we’re all dirt beneath her shoe?” I asked.
“Exactly. She’s trying to psych you out,” he said. “By the way, I’m Noah.”
“Aly. This is Tiffaneigh.”
My friend was checking out Noah, and the gleam in her eyes suggested she liked what she saw. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“I don’t think Erica can turn it off,” he said. “Being a diva is second nature. She’s convinced if she acts famous, it’ll magically happen.”
“Famous, but friendless,” I muttered.
“She doesn’t need friends. Erica is only nice to people who can do something for her.” He pointed at the stage. “Look at how she’s making eyes at the director.”
Before taking the stage, Erica had fluffed her medium-length hair, added a coat of bubble gum pink lipstick, and pulled the front of her blue v-neck sweater down to reveal ample cleavage. Her monologue reminded me of Marilyn Monroe singing “Happy Birthday, Mr. President.”
After the first breathy line, Tiffaneigh buried her face in her hands. I’d have been embarrassed for Erica if Nick hadn’t been eating it up. I glanced at Amy to see her reaction. She raised her eyebrows at me and shook her head sadly.
My poor friend. She just wanted a fair chance to play the lead. I had to hope talent would win at the end of the day.
Auditions ran later than expected, so I asked Cal to postpone our “We did it!” cookies until after my shift at Missing Pieces, the local antique store. During the school year, I closed the store three afternoons a week and worked Sundays to give the owner, my mentor Olive Green, the day off.
After a stressful morning, I looked forward to escaping into work for the next four hours. Being around antiques usually helped me feel grounded.
When I entered the store, I immediately spotted Olive in a cluster of people. Her long dark hair was parted in the center and pulled back into a bun as usual, and she wore a red dress with black high heels. That seemed odd until I realized that her wife stood beside her, similarly dressed up. Maria was a petite Mexican-American woman with short black hair and an easy smile. As the local self-defense teacher, I’d almost never seen her wear anything other than yoga pants. They must have plans.
To my great dismay, they weren’t alone. The Green women were talking to their son Sam and his girlfriend, Dana. Three-fourths of them were lovely people; the fourth hated me with the fire of a thousand suns. I wasn’t entirely sure why.
Okay, to be fair, I was a teeny bit in love with her boyfriend. A few months ago, we’d been a couple. That was pre-Cal. But Dana didn’t know about our relationship, because Sam didn’t remember any of it. No one in this world did.
In December, I’d helped with a huge spell to fold the fabric of time and prevent my sister-in-law’s untimely death. As a result, the world rewrote itself, depositing me—and the others who performed the spell—in the world we’d be living in if Katrina never died.
