Spells and Spirits, page 51
“Hmpf.”
Ruth stared at me. “You already know this.”
“Okay, a little birdie might’ve said something about it,” I admitted. “But I didn’t believe it. It sounds stupid. A spirit trapped in the basement? A family has to guard the spirit. If it gets out, it’ll scare people and turn their hair white. Sounds like a bunch of phooey.”
Alice slapped her thigh. “Believe what you want, that’s how the story goes. Anyway, we’ve never been called in to investigate, so I wouldn’t know.”
I rose. “Okay, since that’s as clear as mud, I’m going to get going. What time are we supposed to meet? Five?”
“Yes. Be here around then. Wear something black.”
“Crap. I don’t have anything black.”
“I might have something for you,” Alice said.
Alice was at least four sizes wider than me. I paused, unsure how to politely say no thanks, when Ruth stepped in.
“I’ll find you something. I’ve got a niece about your size. She doesn’t have purple hair, though.”
“Violet,” I corrected.
“Violet,” she said, smiling.
I left and walked straight into Blustery Books. As soon I hooked my fingers around the door handle and pulled, I shouted loud enough for young Ricky to hear me.
“Ricky, I’m back for my wallet. And this time I’m not leaving without it.”
TWENTY
Mr. Hodges was nowhere to be seen. Thank goodness, because I looked like an idiot. I pulled a wrapped leftover fried pie from my pocket and waved it back and forth.
“Come on, Ricky. Let’s call a truce. I’ll be nice and you can have this pie.”
A couple of seconds ticked past.
“Come on. I’m about to be homeless, kid.” I peered behind a bookcase. No Ricky. The floorboards creaked and moaned as I perused the store.
When I reached the far corner of the shop, where the sun streaking through the large leaded windows didn’t touch the richly stained oak flooring, I settled the pie on the floor and took a few steps back.
It took a moment, but Ricky finally appeared. He eyed the pie greedily and set about mimicking eating it.
I bent down and smiled. “I got it from the restaurant where that nasty spirit keeps you from. I figured you might like one of her pies. Show her she can’t bully you.”
Ricky raked his hair from his face and smiled. A second later my wallet fell from the sky and landed on the floor in front of me.
I scooped it up. “Thanks. But you’re not going to steal it from me again, are you?”
He shook his head. I was tempted to reach out and muss his hair, but then I remembered that he was a spirit and I was not.
I’d learned my lesson with this kid—don’t drop the wallet in my pocket. With it clutched in my hand, I headed to the front door.
Mr. Hodges appeared from the back. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Is there something I can help you with?”
The tenuous relationship between the spirit world and the human wasn’t nearly as strict in this town as it was in so many others. I’d lived my life knowing that spirits were meant to move on. They weren’t supposed to live with us, and we weren’t supposed to live with them.
But for the first time in my life I didn’t feel like those boundaries needed to be so fiercely kept in line. For the first time I liked my gift. Yes, darn it, I could see spirits and talk to them and help them cross to the other side.
And it didn’t bother me one bit.
I smiled at Mr. Hodges as I tossed my wallet in the air and caught it one-handed. “No, sir, I don’t need any help. I’ve got everything I need.”
Which was exactly what I thought until I received an urgent call from Ruth a couple of hours later.
“The Baptist Women’s League won’t be able to do the food at Slick’s. Apparently they’d already planned on camping out at Truck’s house.”
I groaned. “But we need to get into Slick’s place. We need a reason to search it.”
“He’ll be at the funeral,” Ruth said. “The place will be empty then.”
“We can’t break and enter. That’s illegal. No. I need him to welcome us with open arms.”
I clicked my tongue. Without an onslaught of old women shoving green bean casserole under his nose, Slick would have no reason to see me. Thoughts raced through my head—should I tell him I was thinking about buying the restaurant? Tell him I left some stuff in the van?
Problem was, Slick didn’t have the van.
As much as I hated to do it, it looked like I was going to have to use scare tactics to get inside the place.
“I’ll call you back,” I said. “Let you know if I’ve got a plan.”
I hung up and pressed my phone against my forehead. The one thing I knew was that I couldn’t drag Alice and Ruth into criminal activity with me. There was simply no way. It was one thing for me to go about breaking and entering, another thing completely to coerce two little old ladies to do it, too. Even if those little old ladies wanted to be world-class ghost catchers.
Hmmm…unless there was another way.
I glanced at my watch. It was four. The funeral started at five and it would be beginning to darken then. Figures Xavier would want to be buried at night. I didn’t even know the cemetery allowed such things.
Well, I guess you pay enough money and you could do just about anything you wanted.
I pulled on a sweater to stop chills from setting in.
“You got a hot date?”
I turned to see Susan lying on my bed. Her legs were stretched out and her arms tucked neatly behind her head.
“No dates. Well, maybe a date. Do you think your friends will be hanging out tonight?”
She blew a huge Bubblicious-sized bubble and pinched it with her fingers. “Probably. They never leave.”
“Great. Thanks. And I owe you one for the other night.”
Susan winked at me. “No problem.”
I grabbed my keys and wallet and headed downstairs. It only took a second to find Roan. He was in a small office off the front entrance. I leaned on the doorjamb and opened my wallet, yanking out several large bills.
“I have to owe you close to this.”
He smiled. His dark eyes twinkled. For the first time I noticed a dimple in his cheek. “And here I thought you were going to stay and dash.”
“Stay and dash? Is that a thing?”
He shrugged. “Could be.”
“Anyway, if I owe you more, let me know.” I started to walk away.
“Blissful.”
I paused, turned. “Yes?”
“You have plans later tonight?”
My heart seized. He wasn’t supposed to ask me that. “Um. Yeah.”
“All right.”
“Why?” Because you wanted to ask me out so you could take off your shirt? Let me watch you run around shirtless for a while?
You know, I could really get into that.
He opened his mouth and shut it. When he opened it again, he said, “We’ve got meat pies for supper.”
I quirked a brow. “Is that really what you were going to say?”
“Your hair is very violet today.”
Like how could he make a compliment sound sarcastic and sexy at the same time? I think drool dripped from my mouth. “Meat pies aren’t very Southern.”
“But very filling,” he said it slowly, like he was savoring every word.
Great. So all he wanted was to invite me to gorge myself on fattening food with a half dozen other guests.
I flipped a lock of hair over my shoulder. “I’ll try to make it back in time.” But I doubted I would.
“I’ll save you one.”
My heart clenched. The niceness of his words hit me. I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply and got ready to rumble.
I left the house and hopped in the cruiser. It only took a few minutes to make it to the cemetery. I could see where Xavier’s funeral would be—on the other side of the hill. Far from where I needed to make some magic happen.
Let’s face it, I wouldn’t be making any magic, but a few spirits might if they decided to show up.
I waited as the sun burned down the horizon. “Come on. Come on and sit already.”
As soon as twilight sparkled in the distance, I opened the door. I could see a winding showcase of vehicles down on the other side of the hill.
Not wanting to be seen by any of the funeral attendees, I hunched down in front of a gravestone.
“Boo!”
I glanced up to see Captain Blount standing on top of his headstone. He bent over and gave me a solid stare that could’ve made even the bravest of men wither.
“And what, my dear, do you think you’re doing scampering about out here? Not grave robbing, I hope.”
“I need a favor.” The funeral procession was now out of sight. I rose and brushed off my knees.
Other spirits materialized. “What favor do you need?” Granny Mildred stared at me with dark eyes.
“I need a whole bunch of you to create a ruckus in town. Not one or two—all of you. I need a distraction.”
“And how will this further the cause?” Captain Blount said.
“The cause?” I said, confused.
“He means,” snipped Farmer Kency, “how will it further the goal of equality with the living?”
Oh that. “Well,” I hesitated, “it might not. It might hurt your cause.”
Captain Blount wagged a finger at me. “Listen here, little lady. We will do nothing to hinder the cause. We want equality.”
These spirits were seriously out of their gourds. “What are you doing to help yourselves?” I snapped. “All I see is a bunch of spirits hanging out in a graveyard. You’re not down there,” I pointed to town, “picketing for rights. Oh no, you’re sitting right here complaining and whining about your lack of them.”
I crossed my arms and jutted out one hip. “And who’s going to give you anything if you’re not asking for it? No one. If you come with me, you can appeal for equal rights. For the ability to live freely among the living.”
What was I talking about? The whole thing was asinine. They already had the right to live with humans. What were they really fighting for?
It hit me. “Me,” I said. “You want people like me to leave you alone.”
“That would be most appropriate,” Captain Blount said.
“I can only promise that I won’t help you cross over if you don’t want me to, but as for others like me, I can’t speak for them. You’d have to appeal to them directly.”
“Then it’s no deal,” Granny Mildred said. “We want our rights fair and square. If you can’t promise them, we’re out of here.”
They started to disappear. I reached out. “But wait!”
Too late. They’d vanished.
Sheesh. These folks were a thousand times more hardheaded than any living people I’d ever dealt with. They wanted me to speak for the Ghost Team and for other humans who helped spirits cross. Well, I couldn’t do that.
If they wanted to remain safely where they were, meaning spirits inhabiting the earth, then they’d have to stay right where they were—haunting gravestones in Haunted Hollow.
I sighed and sank to the ground. Great. Now I was back to square one. Looked like the best chance I had of finding out if the computer was at Slick’s house would be to do a little breaking and entering all by my lonesome.
I wouldn’t involve Alice or Ruth—they had reputations to uphold in town.
Me, I didn’t care about my reputation. All I cared about was getting the e-mail and kicking Anita on her butt out of my job.
My heart clenched. Or did I? Was there more I cared about than that? The friendship I’d seen between Ruth and Alice made me yearn for something else than simply tracking down rogue spirits and forcing them to cross to the other side.
I was waiting. Waiting for my life to begin.
A crushing sensation filled my chest. After all, I’d felt my life had nearly ended when my father died. He, along with the Ghost Team, had been my life.
Now both were gone.
Yet I didn’t feel as empty as I’d figured I would. I wasn’t crippled by loneliness. No, I’d become so obsessed with work that I’d pushed all other feelings to the side.
But now that the work wasn’t in front of me, now that I had some distance from it, I could see that there was so much more I wanted to do.
“Blissful Breneaux.”
I jerked my head toward the voice. A chill prickled down my spine as my gaze swept over the gravestones.
Hovering several yards away bobbed a translucent spirit. His form was long, meaning he was tall, with flowing dark hair, luminescent skin. Well, you know, not really skin, but he himself was luminescent.
His voice was gravel-filled. His dark eyes were piercing, and his mouth coiled into a mocking smile.
“It’s been a long time, Lucky,” I said.
Lucky Strike pulled a crumpled pack of smokes from his pocket. He tapped a cigarette into his palm, brought it to his lips and lit it with a ghostly Zippo.
“Blissful Breneaux,” he repeated in a deep voice. “I hear you’ve been looking for me.” He gave a slight bow. “Well, you’ve got my attention. What can I do for you?”
TWENTY-ONE
So many thoughts rampaged in my mind. The first was that I longed for my Ghost Team gear. I wanted to trap Lucky. Wrangle him with the customized lasso I owned—one specifically designed for holding spirits.
But the one from Alice that I jerry-rigged might still work as well.
But unfortunately I didn’t have it.
Lucky took a long pull from his ghostly cigarette. “What do you want?”
To take you in? Stop you from causing any more mayhem?
Then I realized it wasn’t me who needed to speak; it was Lucky.
“What is it you want, Mr. Strike?”
His eyebrows shot to peaks. He studied me as if expecting I would back down, pull my punch and prove I was only entertaining him by asking the question.
“You want equality, is that it?” I said.
He flicked ghostly ash on the ground. “I’ve done some things.”
“Last time I saw you, Lucky, you were fleeing the scene of a water main explosion.”
He chuckled. “That was good fun.” He wore a white and black striped tuxedo with tails. It was almost a carnival-like outfit. Something Beetlejuice might wear.
“You want a computer.”
My heart jumped to my throat. “Word travels fast.”
“I know where it is. I’ll take you to it.”
Yes! Yes!
“Under one condition.”
I clenched and unclenched my hands. “Which is?”
“Help me.”
I grimaced. “I can’t promise that.”
He smiled. Lucky wasn’t backing down. Good. That’s what I was betting on. “Then let’s play a game.”
“I don’t like games.”
“Oh,” he cooed, “you’ll love this one.”
“I doubt it.”
He smirked. “Catch me and I’ll come with you. Don’t and you leave me alone.”
I opened my mouth to speak when he cut me off.
“And…go—”
Lucky zipped down the hillside.
Shinola on a stick! This was it. Catch Lucky and I could go home. I couldn’t give up an opportunity like this. I simply couldn’t.
I raced to the Land Cruiser and climbed inside. I gunned the engine and backed up, coming to a grinding halt inches from wrecking a headstone.
I threw the gearshift into drive and slammed the accelerator. The vehicle jumped forward. I righted the steering wheel and drove.
“Where’d you go, Lucky?”
I smiled when I spotted him. He was floating at the base of the hill. I raced to catch him, but the spirit was fast.
I would be too if I could float through trees and buildings.
There wasn’t much traffic in town, which was good because I was craning my neck to keep an eye on Lucky. I’ll admit, I was barely watching the road.
Lucky glowed slightly, which helped. When he finally stopped drifting through trees and homes, he came to a bobbing halt outside a small Craftsman home.
No lights were glowing inside. Good. Whoever lived there was out. I had a feeling I knew who it was.
Lucky floated around back. I parked the Cruiser on a side street and got out. The sidewalks were quiet. The home was off the main strip, so the block was filled with residential houses containing families, not tourists looking for a scare.
I cut through a row of trees to get to the back. A creek ran behind the trees. I couldn’t see it, but I could hear the running water. I stopped at the two faces that greeted me.
Alice and Ruth were at the back door, bickering over who was going to crack the lock.
“What are y’all doing here?” I said.
Ruth shushed me. “We’re helping you.”
“How’re you helping me? And how do you know I need help?”
Alice righted glasses that were slipping down her nose. “This is Slick’s house. We came to help you.”
I brushed them both out of the way. “I don’t need your help. I don’t want the two of you getting into trouble because of me.”
Alice’s lower lip trembled. “But you’ve helped us so much, Blissful. You made us celebrities. We just wanted to help in return.”
“Yeah,” Ruth said. “Besides, we won’t get into trouble. We’ll be in and out in no time.”
My pulse raced. Lucky was inside, waiting for me. I couldn’t capture him with these two around. Wait. Maybe I could.
“You don’t happen to have that ghost rope with you, do you?”
Alice opened her handbag and pulled it out. “We don’t travel anywhere without it.”
Ruth rolled her eyes. “Not that you know how to use it.”
“I watched Blissful. I could imitate her.”
“Right,” Ruth said sarcastically. “And I could wrangle cats without gloves.”
