"You are punishing me for things I haven't done. I want things to be simpler."
It was an eternity before he finally raised his head to speak. "It hurts me."
"I know," I said, and I slowly narrowed the distance between us. I worry that if I move too fast, he might run away like a frightened animal. But he did not run away. "I'm very sorry."
"How sorry?"
"I'm sorry, I am willing to work hard to do better," I said.
"I want you to date me."
My heart was pounding, and the panic in my heart began to increase. I feel I am struggling, but I remain stable.
"I can try to date you," I said. "If you can simplify things."
"Only me?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"You are alone," I said. Probably.
The promising Rennes monogamy looks like a small potato, it will not affect the promise I have promised to Ellie. So why do I feel I am doing something wrong
"I will consider it," he said, closing the door behind him.
I was crying when Cindy called. "Where are you?"
"Home. Why?" I said, and wiped my nose with my sleeve.
"I need your help. Can I pick you up?"
"Are you okay?" I thought that since Gabriel did not stay, she never saw Raphael again, but maybe he showed up and told her to put the extra money in the collection tray or adopt A Cambodian baby or something. Hope he didn't tell her to play anything sharp.
"I'm fine," she said angrily. "I think I have a clue, I don't want to check it alone."
"Isn't Jǐngcha the ones who deal with clues?" I asked.
"I can't wait for someone to kill me," Cindy said. "Is this your plan?"
It is my plan to heal my neck. It was my plan to strangle Brinkley and Ally. Many, many treatments are my plans, and there may be a new boy toy. "Oh, no, but—"
"Then help me," she said. "I don't trust anyone. I even asked the postman to open the mail for me this morning. That's how bad the situation is."
The idea of a crazy Cindy shaking the postman and asking him to open the mail broke me. "He must enjoy this."
"Maybe it's Victoria's Secret Catalog," she said. "He must think I am a lunatic."
"How did you make him do this?"
"I told him that an ex-boyfriend threatened to send me anthrax," she said.
"He still opened it?" I said.
"Will you help me in the end?"
"Okay, okay." Bite my head off.
"We need to see Jacob," she said, and walked into my hall thirty minutes later.
I recognized Eve’s cousin’s name because the document says that Ellie and I discussed in detail some extremely torturous details. "He is not one, but he gave a psychological reading. How do you know him?"
"I don't know him," she said. "This is his name on my signature sheet, which means it must also be a fake substitute, right?"
"Maybe." I know that Eve forged Jacob's signature as our substitute, but I didn't know that Jacob's name also appeared on Cindy's replacement list. Is someone trying to lure a replacement agent? Brad Strum is somewhere. This also means that the authorities mistakenly believe that Brad is only targeting me, and that I should not be the only undead being protected by Jǐng. "let me see."
She stuffed a piece of paper into my hand. Jacob's signature is at the bottom of the page. He was supposed to be Cindy's client tomorrow, a woman named Judy. Eve's document also has the same signature. Since I know that Eve forged Jacob's signature, this signature was forged after Eve was in prison? Or maybe she did it more than once before being arrested? If so, why didn't she tell me when I asked her
"Have you asked Frank?" I asked. Frank is Cindy's liaison.
"The British Bank for Reconstruction and Development (FBRD) is currently conveniently detaining him for questioning. Does it sound familiar?"
"Did they suspend you during their investigation?" I asked. If someone targets agents, it is wise to protect all DR agents.
She shook her head.
This makes the British Bank for Reconstruction and Development look as guilty as hell. "If Brinkley is right, FBRD is responsible, maybe they hope you will be killed."
"Jacob doesn't even have fbrd certification."
"Someone is lying," I said, definitely. "If we can talk to him, maybe we can better understand what happened. It may even be who Brad Strum is and how he was involved."
"That's why we need to go over and talk to Jacob. We need to drill a hole in his watermelon head and get some answers."
"Relax, girl," I said. I put on new shoes and a black hoodie.
"The shoes are good," she said, "are you coming or not?"
I may not know where Ellie and Brinkley are, but I am 90% sure that Cindy is the next goal. I can't let her go alone. "Of course," I said. "I gotta go"
Cindy wants to drive. Considering that she looked more unstable than usual, I thought that was a bad idea, but I let her go anyway. She was nervous, and the instability made me nervous. But hey, waving a large piece of metal seemed to give her a false sense of control, so I let it go.
No matter what made her get through this day.
"Let me ask you something," I said, trying to fill the silence. She didn't even look at me. "Do you have anything weird?"
"You mean except to talk to an angel that no one else can see?"
I told her about my power problems, and what Rachel and the weird Mr. Reeves thought about superpowers. She gave me a strange look. "Maybe I don't need a plumber at all."
"Please tell me why you think you need a plumber," I said.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Why?" I said. I thought I was frankly honest. She has reservations, which is unfair.
At last she said: "Let's put it this way, I have to be careful when I'm in the toilet."
"Like they were talking to you or?" I imagined the lid opening and closing like a mouth.
"No. If I am emotional, I can't go to the toilet," she said. This is all she gave me. Very strange, because if I am emotional, the bathroom, or sometimes my bed, is where I hide.
Jacob's residence is near Hollywood. It's not as upscale as Cindy's place, and it's not as legal as mine. I have a real logo, employees-Ally, but Jacob works in his mother's house, and there is only a small logo that says "Certified psychic Jacob Willis" .
Who is the certified psychic
Cindy climbed onto the third-level cinder-brick porch and knocked hard on the door. Every time the screen door slams, it rattles and vibrates. But no one came.
"How do you know he is here?" I asked from the bottom of the stairs.
"His mother told me," she said and knocked again.
A child opened the door. He has an orange mouth and rough fingers. The child looks very sticky. "who are you?"
"We are looking for Jacob," Cindy said.
The child looked her up and down. "Are you a patient?"
A tall, slender, short woman pushed the boy away with a horribly swaying buttocks. "Customer," she said. "He is not a doctor."
"Mrs. Willis," Cindy said. "We are on the phone."
"He went to the store. He will be back soon. Come in and wait."
We enter that little house one at a time. His mother took us to a small room on the corner of the street. It was prepared for Jacob's "client". This room was more like a dark corner, separated from the living room by a plastic beaded curtain. In the corner, two folding chairs sit at a plastic card table.
His mother pointed to the empty chair. "Just wait here."
Cindy bent down and whispered after she left. "He can at least talk to us."
Fifteen minutes later, Jacob, tall and thin, maybe in his twenties holding a greasy sack in one hand and two boxes of cigarettes in the other. His shabby hair was combed to his head. A pair of big hollow eyes looked at us. His sunken cheeks and thin lips make him look more haggard and sharp than most people. He was stunned. If he is a psychic, he must be surprised to see us.
"Did I miss your date?" he asked.
"We didn't make an appointment," Cindy said. "We just need to talk."
The food bag slammed into the card table. He took out a big hamburger wrapped in plastic. He flattened the bag with his hands, and then sprinkled the French fries all over. His food was spread in front of him, and he sat down.
"Do you know a woman named Judy Ludlow, or a man named Brad Strum?" she asked.
"I remember you," he said. "You asked me this question on the phone."
"What service do you provide?" I asked, hoping that if I showed interest—even flattery—he might be more willing to use his knowledge to impress us.
He gave me a greasy price list. I can buy a palm print and a tarot card for 5 dollars for 10 dollars.
Cindy repeated these names. "Do you remember meeting with them to sign?"
"No. I don't know these people." When he put a handful of fries covered with ketchup into his mouth, his eyes stared at mine. He stared at me for a long time. "I have a feeling, you have a romantic problem"
"Really?" I asked. Is it written on my face or something
Cindy tried to get his attention again, holding her file. "Can you prove that this is not your signature?"
Jacob ignored her, his eyes were black and big. "All you want is to be loved. So it scares you."
"Hey," Cindy said sharply. "answer my question."
"It's one thing to be worshipped," Jacob said. "It's another thing to love someone. He admires you, but you love others, don't you?"
"Wait—" I said. "Did you see the expression on my face?" (to be continued) (end of this chapter)