“I changed my mind!”

The sound of applause caught me by surprise. Neely Kate and two other women stood several feet away, clapping and grinning like they’d just enjoyed a show.

“You tell ’im, honey!” one of the women cheered, waving her arm into the air.

Mr. Deveraux’s face reddened and he sputtered before spinning around and marching back into his office.

The two women brushed past me, one patting me on the arm and grinning.

Neely Kate rushed over and looped her arm through mine. “Oh, my stars and garters! I never would have believed that if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes!”

Embarrassment enflamed my face as the full force of what I’d done swept over me. “I…”

“Do you have any idea how bad every person in this courthouse has been wantin’ to do that? He’s a mean, spiteful man. Don’t you worry, you’re not the only one to deal with his attitude, but you’re the first one to call him on it.”

“Am I gonna get kicked off the jury now?” I whispered as Neely Kate led me to the elevators.

“Nah, I doubt it. He’ll just go pout in his office.”

“But…”

Neely Kate pushed the elevator button. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. What’s he gonna do? Tell Judge McClary you were mean to him? Ha! I’d like to see that.”

The elevator doors opened and we walked inside, me still in a daze.

Shaking her head, Neely Kate laughed. “I’ll never forget the look on his face as long as I live!”

Neither would I.

The doors opened to the courthouse lobby and I was all too eager to escape the stares of people milling about. Had they heard what I’d done already? How was that possible?

Neely Kate patted my arm. “Don’t you be worryin’ about Mr. Crabbypants. You’ll be fine. What’s the worst they can do? Throw you in jail? Not likely.”

My stomach knotted. Getting locked up frightened the bejiggers out of me.

She saw the terror on my face. “Relax! I’m teasin’.”

I tried to smile, but my face was frozen. “Yeah…” And then I felt a vision coming. Oh, no! Not now! “Your flower girl’s gonna get chicken pox.”

Neely Kate’s eyes narrowed. “What did you just say?”

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

She tilted her head and grabbed my arm. “Yes, you did. You said my flower girl’s gonna get chicken pox.”

My pulse pounded in my temples. “Did I say that?”

Her gaze pinned me down. “You did. Why did you say my flower girl’s gonna get chicken pox?”

I waved my hand and released a nervous laugh. “I have no earthly idea! I don’t know what’s getting’ into me today! I have to go now.” I pulled my arm out of her death grip.

“I guess…” She seemed unsure, but let it go. “You better get goin’. You’re gonna be late.

Gonna be? I was long past late.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked.

I nearly cried with happiness. I hadn’t scared her off. Yet. I had no idea how she’d react when her flower girl actually broke out in poxes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” After a half-hearted wave, I walked into the afternoon heat.

Mercy, I had blown this every way possible. I was going to be late to work and maybe lose my job, and I hadn’t even accomplished what I’d set out to do. Not only had I failed to tell Mr. Deveraux what I knew about Bruce, but I’d ticked him off so much there was little chance of him ever listening to me. Even if I ever got enough nerve to try to tell him again.

I consoled myself with a twisted grin. In spite of everything, I’d gotten a few pieces of valuable information.

One, I’d learned that peach bridesmaids dresses were only a good idea if you wanted a candy-themed wedding. And two, Frank Mitchell had owed money to a bookie. Maybe things hadn’t turned out so bad after all.

Chapter Twelve

I’d never seen Suzanne so angry in the four years I’d known her. Not even after she’d found out the beauty school no longer offered fifty percent discounts on repeat-customer hair coloring. And that was saying something.

While her red face was a good clue something was wrong, the way she shook, starting with her chin and radiating out to the rest of her body, made a few of us think she was having a seizure. Martha called 911 but hung up when Suzanne realized what she was doing and started screaming at her.

I wouldn’t have been surprised if Suzanne had sent me home, but I suspected she’d come to her senses and realized there was a proper procedure to follow. The only path to instant dismissal in the Arkansas state employment system was trying to murder one of your employees. Then again, maybe she planned to follow our old boss’s footsteps.

Sitting down at my station, I stuffed my purse into my drawer, chanting, “Three more hours. Three more hours,” until the words blended into a garbled mess.

Other than my encounter with Neely Kate, my day had been relatively vision-free, so I wasn’t surprised when I had several right in a row. One woman was relieved but a little baffled that her purse was in her chest freezer. Another customer was none too happy to find out that his neighbor had been stealing his newspapers.

Visions were exhausting.

But my visions were a sharp reminder of how I got involved in the Daniel Crocker mess, which had led to Momma’s murder and my whole involvement in the Crocker predicament. My visions had been a blessing and a curse, but they ultimately helped me save Joe and bust Crocker.