Vivian took the priest’s hand so that her sphere of invisibility extended to him. While she didn’t like to be referred to as anyone’s girl, sweetie, darling, or sugar, she decided to just answer the old bat once assured that they were speaking privately.
“Not by choice, but yes, I do work with him.”
The woman smiled, revealing a set of gray and menacing teeth. “Yes, I do believe you must be the one, then. What can I do for you?”
“I’ve got a guardian gone bad on my back and I’m trying to find out who he is and how to get him off it. Have you heard anything?”
She gave Vivian an appraising look and said, “Maybe I know something, but I’m going to ask a favor of you in return.”
No surprise there. Vivian had learned that you didn’t get much for free in this life or the afterlife. “What’s the favor?”
“My no-account grandson and his wife are squandering their share of the inheritance money I left them, or rather they’re squandering the share I left for my one and only great-grandchild. I need you to put away what’s left before they spend it all.”
More questionably legal activity? Great…
“Uh-huh, and how in the Sam Hill do you propose I do that? I have many talents and some special skills, but I draw the line at breaking and entering,” Vivian shot back, squaring her shoulders as they began the negotiations in earnest.
The old spirit smiled wider and stood a little straighter. “You’ll do it because you need to know what I can tell you, and you’ll be able to do it because I know all of the account numbers and pass codes.”
Vivian’s jaw dropped. She hadn’t expected the ghostly grandmother to have a plan.
“What, you think just because I’m old and departed that I don’t know how banking works? I used to work for the bank, Missy. Besides,” she spoke in a low and confidential tone, “I have an account they don’t know about, already set up in his name. All you have to do is just move it on over. Won’t take but two minutes, I expect.”
“Fine,” Vivian replied. She could always enlist Jeanne or some other spirit to use a random computer to complete the transaction. It was relatively low risk, and not quite illegal. The spirit seemed of sound mind—if not sound body—so there were no ethical barriers. “Now, tell me what you know.”
“Well, we’ve had some newcomers hanging around the past month or so, at least. It took us a while to figure it out, but we reckon it’s been the same spirit all along.”
“How do you mean?” the padre asked.
“Oh, we can take on all manner of forms, but we each have our own flavor, for lack of a better word,” the spirit said. That was true enough. Though most spirits carried their original forms with them and manifested as such, they could channel their energy to assume any appearance if they practiced.
For a powerful guardian spirit, it provided the ultimate advantage. They could move about the spirit world incognito and assume a corporeal form that met their needs while operating in the world of the living.
“Anyway, the first time this new one showed up, it looked like a little girl,” the spirit said. “We reckoned she must have run off when the guardians came to fetch her, or maybe the others. We don’t judge here. All are welcome so long as they mind their manners. Scared little kids do up and run sometimes.”
That was also true, and not just for scared kids. Learning of one’s passing tended to come as a shock, and not all of the departed were prepared to accept their change in circumstance.
“I see.” Vivian nodded. “What made you suspicious?”
“Nothing at first. We took her in and tried to make her feel at home, tell her what she needed to know about the spirit world, see if we could get her to a guardian. She seemed real interested about us, but didn’t want any guardians. What she did want to know about was mediums.”
The priest’s distaste for the subject showed on his face, but Vivian was too keen on getting information to let him interrupt. “She wanted to know about the living who commune with the dead?”
“Yes. You’re quick, I see,” the old bat said sardonically. “We didn’t think much about it at the time either. Lots of freshly departed spend a few days looking for a way to get back in touch with their loved ones. Most try themselves, but they don’t know how or just don’t have the energy. Hell, I can’t even get enough steam to make the damned keys on the computer move, which is why I need you.”
“You have enough steam to appear and chat for a spell,” Vivian said, unable to resist wheedling the spirit.
“Don’t you sass me, missy, or we’ll part ways right now.”
“Sorry,” Vivian said, fighting a smile. This one reminded her a lot of her grandmother. “Go on.”
The old spirit gave her the stink-eye and said, “As I was saying, we told her straight that there weren’t no real mediums around these parts, but we knew of a woman who worked with guardians and had a knack for helping those in need. She had all sorts of questions about you. We told her to stick around and we’d see about Ezra arranging a meeting, but she just up and vanished.”
“That’s weird,” Vivian said, not to mention suspicious. Lost and lonely spirits were skittish in general. Why would this one cozy up to the spirits here and then all of a sudden turn tail and run at the mention of Ezra?
The spirit shook her head. “Not really. That happens a lot around here, too. But then a few nights later, another new one shows up. This one was a little off, but we take in strays, too. He was telling wild tales about someone trying to exorcise him or some such nonsense. Bobby from across the field joked about the lady down the road who could zap the pants off him if he really wanted to be gone. He didn’t come back after that, either.”
“Wow, should I be offended?” Vivian said. “And I’m not that powerful. Guardians spirits and reapers can do much more damage than I can.”
The spirit shrugged. “I don’t know about being offended, but by the third time a new spirit came around asking questions, we’d caught his scent and knew something weren’t right. We’ve been on our guard ever since, but we reckon he must have already found you. He ain’t been back since.”
“What else do you know about him?” Vivian asked.
“Nothing much, except he’s powerful. Must have been to fool us so long. We’ve been watching for him, but we reckon he’s moved on. I am awful sorry about that, but we didn’t think any of our kind would mean you harm, except maybe the man in white.”
“I’m not worried about Darkmore anymore,” Vivian said quickly. “I mean, it seemed like we were square after we parted ways the last time. And I don’t blame y’all. Just let me know if you hear anything else, okay?”
“Of course, dear,” she said. “Just take care. The last one had a few questions about you and the reaper.”
Oh, God. Was this what the attack was about? Were the guardians onto her? Did they know about her ongoing association with Darkmore?
The priest put an arm around her for support. “It’s all right,” he said, soothing. “You’re under the protection of Ezra and other powerful guardians—and me. We won’t let the reaper anywhere near you.”
Guilt replaced fear as she regained her composure. But relief washed over her as well. The priest didn’t suspect. Perhaps the guardians didn’t know about her deal with Darkmore either.
The spirit nodded, encouraging. “I don’t think you need to worry. My sources haven’t spotted that reaper in these parts since your last run in. You’re safe.”
Thank Heaven for small favors. Wait, maybe she shouldn’t be thanking Heaven for this. She’d have to think on it. “Good to know. Oh, one more thing,” Vivian added. “What do you know about a lost and lonely spirit hanging around the zoo? He goes by Junior.”
“Junior’s back? Mercy me, it’s been years!”
She hadn’t actually expected the spirit to have anything on Scooter’s little friend. Lucky break. “So you know him, then?”
“Yeah, I do. He’s harmless most of the time,
” she said with a dismissive chuckle. “Though he seems to have a knack for moving objects with his energy. Don’t ask me where or how he gets it, but I’d give my eyeteeth to be able to do what he does, if I still had ’em.”
“Well, he’s taken up with a little boy I know. I just want to make sure he won’t hurt him,” she said.
“No, I reckon he just misses his little brother. That’s why he’s stuck, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. Tell me,” Vivian said. She smelled an opportunity to do some good for him and to help him move along in the process.
The old spirit grinned, clearly pleased to share more juicy stories to her rapt audience. “Let’s see, him and his little brother were farm boys a ways back, doing what boys do. Tree climbing, spitting, swimming in creeks and ponds and the like. Well, one fine afternoon they were swimming in a creek that was swelled up from rain, and the little one got caught up in the current. Junior tried to get to him, but he just didn’t make it.”
“Poor thing,” Vivian muttered to herself. “It’s no wonder he’s determined to look out for Scooter. Did he drown, too?”
“No, ma’am, he didn’t. He hanged himself in the barn the day after they buried his brother, and he’s been roaming around these parts ever since. Go easy on him, will you?”
“I will,” Vivian promised. “Now how about you lay those account numbers on me?”
The old woman, who finally revealed her name to be Mildred Bluff, gave Vivian the information and they parted ways. She and the padre spoke with a few other spirits, Vivian offering to help with burdens and the priest offering prayers and intercession. Most of them were content, though. A lot of the spirits lingered on Earth to keep an eye on kinfolk. Mildred herself swore she’d only cross to the next realm when her grandson kicked the bucket, enabling her to give him a cosmic kick in the ass before she went. In the meantime, she kept watch over the little ghost community in Nolensville and apparently had a little thing going with Ezra.
Vivian was delighted to learn that he’d taken her to his realm a time or two, and that they’d enjoyed sitting a spell on his front porch swing. My, my, Ezra you old hound dog. She’d be sure to tease him about that next time he came to call.
Father Montgomery offered to keep Vivian company, but she decided to just head home and enjoy some time to herself. She called ahead and asked Jeanne to clear out all squatters of the non-living kind while she stopped by the liquor store for some liquid consolation. When she reached her front door, she found a small package on her front stoop. The envelope on it bore her name, written in neatly printed block letters. She picked it up and took it inside, wondering if she should call Jeanne back or Ezra. She wondered if guardians could do harm to the living via parcel, but that just seemed silly. She knew the rogue was watching, and he’d had the audacity to attack someone outside of her home, so why send anthrax? This just didn’t seem like his style. It didn’t feel like it. Shrugging, she pulled the note from the envelope and read.
Dearest Vivian,
I heard about your recent misfortune with Mr. Blakemore. While I am pleased with the opportunity to relieve you of this particular burden, the pain of betrayal and infidelity being especially scrumptious, I am truly sorry for your loss. Perhaps I can be of service in administering some karmic justice to the blackguard? Don’t get yourself all worked up about it. I do not mean the most severe form of justice, of course. That sort of punishment is reserved for more serious infractions. But I can inflict a degree of suffering on him, should it please you.
Think it over.
By the way, I’ll be in touch soon with some information that should help us sort out your other troubles. You do seem to accumulate them!
Regards,
LD
P.S. Please enjoy what’s in the box until you can find a suitable substitute.
Blackguard? Who the hell talks like that?
She promised herself she’d teach Darkmore some more contemporary forms of slander as she unwrapped the package. The contents brought a wide smile to her face. Of the many spirits she knew, and she knew plenty, it amazed her that the darkest of them all would be so thoughtful as to leave her a box of chocolates.
CHAPTER 11
Had it been entirely up to Sue and Vivian, Sue’s condition notwithstanding, Sue’s bridal shower would have involved a lot of booze, sex toys as party favors, and at least one nearly naked man dancing on the table. Several of the ladies would have joined him, no doubt, possibly rendering him fully naked. It would have been a riot, relived and embellished to the status of legend in the years to come.
Unfortunately, Sue’s older sister was in charge.
Sarah Harrow, née Carlson, was a card-carrying member of the Holier-than-thou Squad and hell-bent on making sure that the formal bridal shower was not only dignified to the point of painfully boring, but she’d also invited Jace’s new girlfriend. Neither scored her points with Vivian, who’d seriously considered not going. Kay promised to run interference and to treat Vivian to dinner and drinks at Holland House after, which was the only reason that Vivian finally agreed to go.
That, and Kay promised to rescue Sue as well.
When they knocked on the door to Sarah’s stately suburban estate home, they were greeted by the witch herself, wearing her Sunday best and without a single hair, eyelash, or acrylic nail out of place. Stay-at-home mother of four homeschooled rugrats—homeschooled by a revolving door of nannies—Sarah Harrow had somehow managed to regain her “girlish” figure after each birth, praise the Lord, using something she called the Hallelujah diet.
Actually, Vivian suspected it was more likely due to her personal trainer Chad, but that was probably a special kind of exercise that Sarah’s hubby didn’t know about.
Like her sister, Sarah was blonde and built, though taller than Sue. She’d married well, obviously. You couldn’t swing a house like that on a single income, at least not legally. Her husband wasn’t too bad, bless him, but he was hardly ever around. Sue thought he used work as a convenient excuse to minimize his time with Sarah, but Vivian reckoned that he had to work triple hard to afford the big family and house in the affluent area. Plus, Sarah enjoyed spending like there was no tomorrow. She didn’t work and used the homeschooling as an excuse, nannies notwithstanding, though Vivian thought she probably just didn’t want her kids mixing with little black and Latino kids in Davidson County schools.
Sarah gave Kay and Vivian her best pageant smile when she answered the door. The calculation and cruelty hidden beneath the expression gave Vivian the creeps.
“Come on in, ladies. We’re just mixin’ and a-minglin’ and passing out the little appetizers,” she said as she stepped back and made room for them. “Why, Miss Kay, did you bring your famous homemade mints?”
“I did,” Kay said cordially.
“And Vivian, thank you so much for taking care of the cake,” she purred.
“Don’t mention it, Sarah. I’d do anything for Sue,” Vivian answered.
“Of course. Honey, we are just so proud of you for being such a trouper, what with your unfortunate situation,” Sarah offered, leaning in and whispering the last.
“You mean with Jace screwing around and still being a part of the wedding?” Vivian replied, not lowering her voice.
Kay gave her a hard nudge in the rib cage, reminding her to mind her manners for Sue’s sake. Sarah glared at her, but didn’t comment. Instead she led the way to the kitchen and directed them to place the mints and cake on the table. Sarah hired caterers to act as servers and provide most of the food. She’d assigned Vivian cake duty so she’d “feel” like she was a part of it all. Kay’s mints, however, were a rare treat and simply non-negotiable. Everyone asked her for her secret recipe, and Sarah had made it her mission to get Kay to give up the goods.
She’d yet to succeed.
The caterers busied themselves arranging platters of canapés or fruit and chafing dishes with honey-glazed ham, warm artichoke dip, and other assorted goodies. T
hey also chattered away in Spanish as they worked, and Vivian caught a phrase or two. She smiled to herself, thinking that Señora Harrow was definitely a puta and wishing she could understand whatever flavor of qualifier that they’d added.
Kay and Vivian grabbed some punch and headed to the living room. Vivian recognized half of the guests, but couldn’t keep herself from scanning the room, trying to guess which one of the women she didn’t know was her replacement. The candidates didn’t inspire confidence, as most of the younger women were drop-dead gorgeous. When Kay noticed that Vivian was digging her nails into her palms, she took her by the elbow and suggested that they sit down next to Sue.
Sue Carlson had always looked pretty, but now she definitely carried that pregnancy glow everyone always raved about. She looked even perkier and happier when she spotted Kay and Vivian.
“Hey,” she said, getting up with considerable difficulty before laying a big hug on Kay, “I’m so glad you’re here! How are the little ones?”
“Oh, they’re fine. Boyd’s got them all day and night, if necessary,” she said with a wink.
“Thank God,” Sue said, reaching over to grab Vivian. She held her for a long time, whispering in her ear, “Oh, sweetie! Thank you so much for coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Vivian replied, and meant it.
“Is Sarah being Sarah?” Sue asked, resigned exasperation lacing her tone.
“Oh, yeah,” Vivian and Kay replied in unison.
“At least you don’t have to spend the whole damned day with her,” Sue hissed. “Just stick close and get me the hell out of here as soon as we get through the gifts, promise?”
“Sure,” Vivian said. “Safety in numbers, right?”
They endured an hour and a half of highfalutin Southern bitchiness disguised as polite conversation, overpriced snacks sans alcohol, and watching poor Sue work her tail off trying to give proper deference to the quality of each gift bag, bow, and specialty wrapping paper, not to mention each gift inside. Vivian didn’t understand why they couldn’t at least have champagne cocktails. Honestly, she’d seen Sarah’s liquor stash before. They could’ve had any number of quality cocktails to lighten the mood, making a few tasty virgin options for the guest of honor and those who didn’t wish to partake.
Raising the Dead Page 11