Fiction: The truth will set you free, sort of

This months Words for Wednesday prompts are provided by Messymini at her blog here. This week's prompts are: fraud, weak, unaware, wind, cope, morning and/or fusty, prepense, clement.

Fiction: The truth will set you free, sort of
Fraud was a word Gamy Starling knew well. She was once a fake medium, pretending to see ghosts of people's dead love ones and passing on messages from them. Hide in plain sight - that was what Gamy's grandmother, Thelma, had said. If they thought you were a fake medium, then they wouldn't think you're really a psychic. Gamy had thought a medium and a psychic were the same but she didn't argue with her grandmother. Thelma was a ghost whisperer but had worked as a fake clairvoyant before she retired.
    Back then, it had been a good way to earn a living and Gamy was able to pay for Thelma's treatment but after awhile, Thelma stopped it all. She had lived long enough, she said. Gamy could cope with anything if Thelma was around. Once Thelma was gone, Gamy knew it was time to quit. That was why she moved to Query St. James where not one person knew her.    
    One Wednesday afternoon, Gamy was just folding her laundry when her next door neighbor, Mrs. Roberts, rang the bell. Gamy had an urge to pretend she was not home. Two weeks ago, when she moved here, every neighbor had came over but she had refused their entry. But she must be a good neighbor if she wanted to stay in Query St. James said Mrs. Monday, another one of Gamy's neighbor but she was the only who didn't ask to come in.
    Without a word, Mrs. Roberts just pushed past Gamy when she opened the door. "I must speak with you," said Mrs. Roberts. She sat down on the couch right next to the half-folded laundry. Gamy closed the door. "What about?" she said as she sat on the armchair on the left side from Mrs. Roberts.
    "Do you believe in the truth will set you free and all that rubbish?" said Mrs. Roberts.
    "Sure," replied Gamy. It was one of those things people often asked her when she worked as a medium.
    "Well, I need that. Can you summon my dead husband Harold?"
    "Summon?"   
    "You're the Marvelous Miss Marvella, aren't you? I recognize you even without your heavy makeup."
    "You're mistaken. I'm not Marvella." It was a weak lie and Gamy knew it. She was out of practice with lying.
    Mrs. Roberts nodded. "I understand you don't want people to know what you did before but you must summon Harold for me. I need this." She leaned forward and pressed a hand on Gamy's folded ones on her lap. "Please, Mrs. Starling. I'll pay."
    Well, Gamy did need a new roof on her house. It was not in tip-top shape as her real estate agent said. Gamy was unaware of this until it rained and her upstairs bathroom's ceiling started to leak. It left a fusty scent in the room. The weather had been clement but fall was near and there will be tons of rain and wind. If the rain didn't drown her, the wind will definitely rip some of the roof off. And she hadn't found a job yet. "It's Miss. I'm not married. And anyway, I can't just summon Harold. It takes a—" The scent of cigars was in the air. "Did your husband smoke cigars?" Gamy didn't see ghosts. It was mostly smells, sounds, images and written messages. Sometimes they are clear and other times, confusing.
    Mrs. Roberts nodded a few times. "Yes, yes. He did! The bastard always had one every evening along with a bottle of scotch. He stunk the whole house and then he blamed me for not getting better air fresher. That dog!" Mrs. Roberts pursed her lips into a line. "Ask Harold if I should marry Thaddeus?"   
    The tobacco scent intensified and laced with leather and wood. A rough voice spoke: "Tell that woman, if she marries that fool Thaddeus, I'm going to make sure they both join me. And another thing, she shouldn't throw away my cigars. They came straight from Havana and they cost a fortune!"
    Gamy peered down at her hands. She had never heard actual talking from the dead before. Was this Thelma's doing?
    "Well? What did he say?" Mrs. Roberts' eyes were wide.
    Gamy repeated what the voice said.
    Mrs. Roberts was silent. She kept turning the silver band on her left pinky.
    "Are you going to call off the wedding, Mrs. Roberts?" said Gamy.
    "Of course not! I just wanted to know what Harold thought. His opinions matter little to me now. That jerk! Serves him right I poisoned him." Mrs. Roberts smiled.
    Gamy leaned back on the couch. "What? Are you saying you've killed Harold?"
    "It was an accident. If Harold didn't make me angry every second he breathes, I wouldn't need antidepressant. I put them in my tea every morning but the man just came home from some late night poker game, took my cup, dropped in some alcohol from his flask and drank it all. Who knew the combination could be deadly? He just keeled over in seconds. I couldn't save him. It wasn't prepense. I swear it was one of those dumb coincidence!" Mrs. Roberts shot up off the couch but then she calmly sat down again.
    "Stupid woman! It was you who killed me? I'll give you something to be angry about. I'll..." The voice faded away and so did the cigar smell.
    Mrs. Roberts didn't hear him but she was still talking. "—and started asking questions. I told them Harold was a habitual, alcoholic, tea drinker. When they asked why there were antidepressant in the tea, I told them I got the prescription in my name for him because he was ashamed to be taking them. Please, don't turn me in. I swear, it was an accident." Mrs. Roberts dabbed her eyes with a pink handkerchief and put it back into her bag.
    "Fine. I won't say a thing. And you don't say anything about me either, do we have a deal?" Gamy held out her hand.
    Mrs. Roberts grabbed Gamy's hand and gave it a strong shake. "Of course. How much do I own you?" She started digging inside her handbag.
    "I usually allow people to pay whatever they could." Except rich folks, Gamy always knew to ask them for a large sum. Mrs. Roberts's clothes looked worn and everything about her was subdued. She took out a checkbook from her bag and scribbled on it and then torn out a check and held it out to Gamy. "I think the whole the truth will set you free thing is really working. I'm feeling so great, I might just throw myself a party. Or it could be the drug kicking in. My doctor put me on something new. Anyhoo, I've got to go. By the way, if Mr. Red and his wife invite you for dinner, say no. They will serve you mystery meat they found on the side of the road. And if a woman named Amanda Fine offers to do your hair at a discount, say no. She is the worst hair dresser in the history of hair dressers. And if you want to know more about your neighbors, just come on over anytime except on Tuesdays when I walk my duck. Thanks! Bye!" She was out the door before Gamy could respond. Mrs. Roberts had a duck that she walked?
    Just this morning, Gamy was thinking the neighbors were all so normal but now she wasn't so sure. She peered down at the check in her hand. There was five zeros after the number two. She hoped Mrs. Roberts will not come back. But then again, Gamy  needed new tiles in her kitchen.