Texas Moon. Joan Elliott Pickart
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to what had happened to him and why it had taken place, before he went out of his ever-lovin’ mind.
“Mr. Bishop?”
“What? Oh, call me Tux.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s more friendly, Nancy.”
“It’s Ms. Shatner. You don’t evoke friendliness, not even close. Look, I’m very busy, Mr. Bishop. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m rapidly approaching having no choice. Please state your reason for being here...now.”
“It’s a long story.”
“I don’t have a long time to listen. Give me an edited version.”
This, Tux thought, was not going well. He needed to start over.
He flashed Nancy his best, hundred-watt, knock-’em-dead smile.
Good grief, Nancy thought, Tux Bishop smiling should be declared against the law. That smile probably had women dissolving into puddles at his feet. Well, not Nancy Shatner. So what if her heart had actually skipped a beat and a frisson of heat had slithered down her back? It didn’t mean a thing.
“Nancy,” Tux said, still smiling, “look, it’s an easy enough question that won’t cost you one penny to answer. Do you own a bright blue shawl?”
“No.”
“No, you won’t answer the question? Or no, you don’t own a blue shawl?”
Nancy sighed. “I have several shawls, but not a bright blue one. I have never owned a bright blue shawl. Does that complete your survey? Are we finished here?” She nodded. “We’re definitely finished. Goodbye, Mr. Bishop.”
“Tux. Listen, I... Oh, hell.”
“That’s how this conversation started. So, oh, hell, to you, too, and goodbye.”
“Nancy,” he began, a serious expression on his face, “I have to explain something to you. It’s very important, it really is. I realize that the last thing a woman wants to hear from some fool of a guy dumb enqugh to say it is ‘trust me,’ but that’s what I’m asking you to do. Trust me. Give me some time to tell you what’s going on.” He paused. “Please.”
No? Yes? Nancy thought. Darn it, he suddenly sounded, even looked, concerned, or worried, or... There was a sincere quality to his voice now, too, edged with a touch of... what? Panic? Urgency?
Trust him? Why should she? He was obviously after something, but heaven only knew what. Was the concern she was witnessing real, or was he a very practiced actor?
No, forget it. She was sending him packing right this second.
But then again, she was admittedly nosy enough to want to discover what he wanted from her.
“Well,” she said, “all right, you may have five minutes, but you’d better make this good, Mr. Bishop.”
“Thank you, Nancy. Is there somewhere we can go and sit down?”
“No. You stay right where you are. Speak. You’re using up your time.”
Tux sighed. “Yeah, okay. Try to keep an open mind, will you?”
Nancy looked directly at him, no readable expression on her face.
“You’re difficult to deal with, do you know that?” Tux said.
Damn, he thought, he’d decided to jump right in and tell Nancy about his psychic powers and the visions he’d seen. As uncomfortable as he was with his so-called gift, he’d felt there was no other way to handle this besides just blurting it out.
But he suddenly didn’t like that plan. He was standing in front of a very beautiful woman, and he had no intention of watching her narrow her eyes, take a step back, and mentally label him as strange.
He did not, however, want to lie to Nancy Shatner, either. This was going to have to be handled very carefully, with expertise, finesse.
“Hello?” Nancy prompted. “Your five minutes is ticking away very rapidly, Mr. Bishop.”
“Tux.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay, here goes. I know this guy who has psychic powers. We’re very good friends, even if he is a step off from normal because he has visions, you know what I mean?”
“And?”
“Well, I humor him, because he’s my buddy. Friends do that for friends.” He was not lying to Nancy. He’d read magazine articles that said a person should be their own best friend. “Besides, my...friend’s visions are usually right on the mark when he has them. Anyway, he had some visions about...about you.”
Nancy blinked, opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again.
“What?” she said, more in the form of a squeak.
“It’s true. He saw you, and you were wearing a bright blue shawl.”
“But I don’t own a blue shawl.”
Tux ran one hand over the back of his neck. “So you said, and that muddies the waters even more. Damn, this doesn’t make any sense.”
“It’s crazy, that’s what it is,” Nancy said. “Who is this friend of yours? Why didn’t he come here himself? I don’t know very many people in Houston. Why would he know me?”
“You don’t have to know a person to have psychic images about them. My friend is sensitive about his powers, and doesn’t like to discuss them, so that’s why he sent me. The thing is, he doesn’t have the ability to see into the future. He can only glimpse what is taking place at the moment, or very, very recently. That’s why I said this really doesn’t make sense.”
“Is he certain he saw me?” she asked, leaning slightly toward him. “Absolutely positive?”
He nodded. “Yes. He saw the Buttons and Beads sign that’s on the front of your store. That’s how I was able to find you this morning.”
“Dear heaven, this is creepy,” she said, wrapping her hands around her elbows.
No joke, Tux thought dryly. Nancy was having the usual reaction to an announcement like the one he was making. It was creepy. He was creepy. He was glad he hadn’t told her that he was the one with the psychic powers.
“Well,” Nancy said, “what was I doing? You know, what was taking place in the visions?”
Oh, hell, Tux thought, he didn’t want to scare her to death. What should he say? It wasn’t as though he had any experience in predicting the future. How did he even know there was any validity to what he’d seen? This whole situation was confusing and very disturbing.
“Mr. Bishop?” Nancy persisted. “Tux?”
“What?” he said, snapping back to attention. “Oh, the visions that you were in. Well, it was a mishmash of things, you understand.
“The buttons and beads were swirling around as though they were being whipped by a wind, then they settled into columns, rows, which I assume were those bins you have there.
“The painted sign saying Buttons and Beads came into view, then disappeared. My friend doesn’t see images like a movie, all neat and tidy and organized.”
Nancy nodded. “I’ve got it. So? What was I doing in the mishmash?”
Tux began to search his mind frantically for what he should say. For all he knew, the visions had meant nothing because he really didn’t possess the power to see into the future.
On the other hand, if by chance this once...and it better not happen again...he actually had glimpsed a scene of something that had not yet taken place, but was going to happen; Nancy deserved to be warned of the danger that she might be facing.
Then again, she didn’t even own a bright blue shawl.
He