It wasn't until Zandra heard the term "ideomotor effect" that she finally put a label on what she'd known for years running Sneak Peek. It sounded like something from meteorology, but it's actually how the brain can move something without a person knowing it.

Sit two or more people down at an Ouija board, and they won't realize they're unconsciously moving the planchette to form words. If one of those people was Zandra and the other a paying client, she could consciously manipulate the planchette while the other looked on in amazement. The real trick was in exploiting either the client's skepticism or willingness to believe.

If the client "bought" into the Ouija board, the job practically did itself. Zandra would call up the spirits by reciting a muffin recipe in Latin, then join hands with the client on the planchette. Ever so gently, Zandra would manipulate answers she'd already divined through observation. The client would chalk up any force moving the planchette as sprits instead of the fraud sitting across the table.

Money problems? It's a good time to drain that 401k and eat the early withdrawal penalty, because the market's shaky and the client is five years from retirement. Never mind that the Wall Street Journal wrote the same thing last week.

Fertility trouble? The spirits say to "copulate"- spirits of old aren't vulgar - in successive sessions each and every night of the woman's prime fertility cycle. Zandra read that in a pamphlet at a doctor's waiting room once, but the "spirits" always get the credit if it works.

Skeptical clients, surprisingly, made for easier marks. They did all the work.

"Of course it's all in the mind, but that's what's important. The Ouija is a tool to unlock your subconscious, which is always working on answers to questions," Zandra would say. Then the client would produce the answers without much help from her.

In either case, the only thing supernatural was the amount of money Zandra could extract. If the spirits were taking a percentage, the view from their rooms in hell got a lot better.

But Zandra's simple Ouija board dealt in another currency, too: secrets. At that, it was an ATM. And secrets were the only currency that really mattered to her. The files in Zandra's apartment owed their existence to the Ouija and her other machines. She'll start one on Seth or Elliot or whoever this person is later tonight.

Seth takes a seat at the table across from Zandra. With a straight-on look at his face, she hits him with some basic questions to build a baseline of his reactions. The twitch in his eyelids. The flush of blood in his nose or neck. A subconscious reaction in the corners of his mouth. The level of detail, or not, in a standard response.

"Ever used one of these as a kid?" Zandra says and runs the creases out of the felt mat with her hand.

"Yeah, but it was made out of wood," Seth says.

Short. Concise. Not a lot of detail. So the opposite would generally mean a lie.

"This is my portable version. Never know when I might need it," Zandra says. Then she breaks out a benign, open-ended gullibility test. "Did the Ouija board tell you anything back when you were a kid?"

"I forget what it was, but I remember thinking it was spooky," Seth says. He nods when he says it, a "tell" for truthfulness.

He'll be easy to manipulate, so the answers will have to come from Zandra. The trick will be to get him to break based on what the "spirits" have to say. That is, if Seth has anything to confess in the first place.

With the baseline questions out of the way, Zandra takes Seth's hands in hers and sets them down on the planchette. She slips a covert finger beneath Seth's wrist to feel for his radial pulse. An uptick will indicate deception. It's already a little high.

"Remember, child, don't let go of the planchette. No matter what," Zandra says.

Seth swallows and nods. Zandra studies the mat and hums. It's low at first, then grows louder and more high-pitched. It's all for show, a little misdirection to prime the effect on the Ouija board.

"The spirits. Ask them if they're here," Zandra says in a whisper and opens her eyes.

Seth's eyes shut, but there's a smirk in the corner of his mouth. His closed eyes make it harder for Zandra to read him. And the ideomotor effect can't kick in if Seth can't see the mat, meaning Zandra will be the one guiding the planchette. It'll be tougher to pull off if she's the one doing all the work.

"Are there any spirits here with us?" Seth says.

Zandra applies a feather's worth of pressure to the planchette. It's not enough for Seth to consciously notice, but years of bullshitting people tell Zandra his hands should know to move. But without his eyes open, the hands are stuck.

"Open your eyes, child," Zandra says.

Seth complies. Good. Following instructions builds trust and suggestibility.

With both of them now watching, the planchette mysteriously slides to the word YES printed on the mat.

"Shit," Seth says like he was expecting something else.

"Watch the foul language, child," Zandra says and notes Seth's steady pulse. "Like attracts like, especially with spirits."

"Oh, sorry," Seth says. "Is this the part where I ask a question?"

"Anything you'd like, child," Zandra says.

"What tree stand should I sit in tomorrow morning?" Seth says.

Zandra should've asked the questions. It's the second time today she underestimated Seth's response. Deer hunting isn't her territory at all.

Thankfully, this isn't the first time she's been out of her element. When it doubt, let the client do the answering.

She guides the planchette to the letter T. It's a safe bet that letter means something. It's part of her go-to posse of letters for cold reads like this one, along with R, E, A, I, O, N and S.

"T? I don't get it," Seth says. "I name each one of my stands. There's the Bait Pile stand, the Old Pine stand and the Sunrise stand. None of those start with a T."

"Think, child. The spirits are trying to get through to you," Zandra says.

Seth thinks for a moment. It gives Zandra the chance to note his pulse and mannerisms. He's buying it. Good. Because the next question is coming from Zandra.

"A T? Oh, a T. Like the T. The Old Pine stand is by a T where two game trails intersect. That must be it," Seth says. He looks up from the mat at Zandra. "This is for real, right? Like, I'm not imagining this, right?"

Good boy, Seth.

Even if the Old Pine stand didn't rest by a T, Zandra would've pivoted to the T in the Bait Pile stand name. There's always a trap door with her readings.

"It's very real," Zandra says. With Seth locked in, she tosses out her question. "My turn. Is this hallowed ground?"

This is one of Zandra's favorite tricks with the Ouija board. "Hallowed" could mean haunted or just significant, leaving Zandra to craft the follow up to suit her needs.

The planchette slides back to the YES. Seth lets out a "Wow" beneath his breath.

"Maybe I got a little extra something with this lease," he says.

"Let's ask," Zandra says to him. Then to the board, "What do you mean?"

The planchette starts spelling out two words.

"Say the letters out loud. Quickly, child, we don't want to miss them," Zandra says to Seth.

Seth follows the directions. "P...I...N...," he says with each letter the planchette reveals. He puts the words together when it stops moving. "Pink shoes?"

Zandra feels Seth's pulse not just pick up but also pack up and take the next train out of town. The rush of blood should be reflected somewhere on his face. A second later, there it is, a slight rose color unfurling in Seth's cheeks. It wouldn't be obvious to anyone else, but Zandra can see it as clear as the heat distortion melting reality around the woodstove.

"Does that mean anything to you? Think hard now. The spirits were right about the tree stand. This must mean something, too," Zandra says.

She's leading him, and he might end up giving a false positive. But playing the odds is how Zandra makes a living, and she's right more than she's wrong.

Seth tries to pull his hands away, but Zandra holds them tight against the planchette.

"I told you when we started not to do that," she says.

"I don't want to play," Seth says.

"This isn't a game you can just stop playing. Not with spirits. If we don't shut the door properly, they could infest your little cabin. You want to stop, you have to tell me what that means," Zandra says.

Now both their pulses are up.

Seth purses his lips and stares at the ceiling in thought.

"I don't know anything about pink shoes, lady. My sister probably owns a pair, but the hell if I know. The last time I saw her was a few Christmases ago, but even then we didn't talk long, and she probably wore something else. I remember she spilled gravy on them at some point. But that's it," Seth says.

Zandra thinks the answer is too detailed to be true. Seth's baseline response to questions is to keep it short and sweet. Whether they know it or not, liars insert bullshit details into their stories as a distraction.

Pursed lips are another sign of withholding truth, not that Zandra needs the help at this point.

Seth's agitation grows, and Zandra figures there's no sense in continuing the session. She closes her eyes and hums out the recipe for muffins again, then releases their hands from the planchette.

"It's all clear now. Sorry about that just now, but you understand I don't want to contaminate this place," Zandra says.

Seth gets up from the table and rubs his hands together.

"Sure, yeah, I understand," he says and paces the small room. The droopy look on his face says he's not sure whether to be relieved the session is over. "What do you think it meant?"

"If we'd spent more time we may have found out," Zandra says. She sets a pentagon-shaped business card onto the table. "I'm at the Sneak Peek in downtown. Stop by some time. It's on me."

Seth rubs his neck. "Yeah, will do," he says.

Zandra watches Seth's eyes fall to the Buck 110 drying on a paper towel next to the sink. Could be something. Could be nothing. But then he starts a slow pace toward it.

The sound of tires on gravel crests the hill outside. It's Charlie. Zandra can't get out of the chair fast enough.

"That must be my ride. Thank you again for the hospitality," Zandra says. She scrapes the mat and planchette into her deep pocket.

"Any time," Seth says and opens the door for her.