by Gay N. Lewis
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
As the day dawned, Sarah woke and gazed at her ankle. That dog’s teeth marks showed up in bright red puncture spots above the bone. She shuddered. The things angels experienced on assignment—of course she might be the only veteran of such eerie events. Most angels from The Heavenlies engaged in none of the weird measures she chose. Imagine claiming a strange house as her own! Would she ever learn? Well, she didn’t want to take a chance on Beth teaching her to drive. She’d demolished one human’s car already, and since Christian didn’t show, that house stunt seemed the only way.
How to spend this day? Food could come later, but coffee would be a nice eye-opener. Poopty doopty. Always some need or desire to test her patience. Sitting up, she glanced down into Beth’s house. Maria and Carlos sat at the table, enjoying an early breakfast while Beth slept.
Okay, take stock. It seemed Beth now entertained the idea of marriage instead of merely friendship, and God intended that for her, so coming around to the possibility proved a good thing. Plus, it appeared Bryan turned the woman off. In Sarah’s opinion, the guy’s charms grew thin, and Beth was beginning to see through that sleazy schemer. Wait! Bryan might be the good guy. Appearances could be deceptive. Actually, that could apply to all three of these male mortals. One of them wanted to fool Beth into marriage, kill her, and utilize the fortune. What if it turned out to be the minister? Surely not, but then stranger things existed down here.
Merciful heavens! If Sarah failed to discover who the real schemer was, Beth would be in danger. Of course, Tomas would be sent to rescue the sweet lady, but all things considered, it would be to her own advantage if she could solve the mystery and save Tomas the trouble. My stars! She might receive a good review if she succeeded.
Where to start? How about Gary? A thought drifted into her mind. Hmmm, perhaps that inspiration came from someone above her. It seemed worth a try. She needed to find Gary’s headquarters situated in the Marsh Enterprises building. After producing a scroll from heaven, she made a mental note of the address and sent the gadget on its way. Oh, how gratifying it would be to possess a GPS to find the place, but no—nuh-uh—not the case.
* * *
That taxi idea seemed workable. Dialing the number with her fingers, she spoke as though she held a cell phone. “Would you send a taxi to the corner of Mandly and Monmouth in ten minutes?” She disconnected. “That Clark Kent was one fortunate fellow with all those handy telephone booths. Guess I’ll have to change below, but where?”
Zooming to Mandly, Sarah quickly searched the area for dogs. Finding none in the vicinity, she located a row of tall hedges on the residential street and ducked behind it. Conjuring up jeans, sweater, canvas shoes, and light jacket, she appeared as a young woman with a blonde ponytail. She then limped to the corner to wait for her ride.
When the cab pulled to the curb, she maneuvered into the backseat and gave the driver Gary’s business address.
“Lovely day for December.”
Uh-oh. This driver wanted to chat. “Yes, it is.”
“I noticed you hobbled a bit trying to get in here. What happened to your leg?”
Poopty doopty! A nosey one too. “A dog mistook my ankle for a T-bone steak.”
“You live on Mandly? Lots of big bruisers over there.”
“Some of them are scary, that’s for certain.”
“A pretty little thing like you wouldn’t have a chance against them. When did you move to Houston?”
“I haven’t been here long. Why?”
“You sound sort of like you are from another country.”
“I’ve been told my accent is different.”
Merciful heavens, if this guy would only allow her to concentrate, she might find her way back to her cloud when she left Gary’s office. Feeling desperate, she gauged directions every time he entered a new street. This guy knew his way around, but she didn’t.
“I like the way you talk. I hear all kinds of accents with this job. Lots of people come here from all over the world. I heard the other day that in Texas, almost 150 languages are spoken, and Harris County has about a hundred tongues spoken daily in the home. And I believe it.” The cabbie turned his head to glance over his shoulder. “You been here long enough to have a boyfriend?”
“Not really.”
“Maybe you’d like to go to a movie or bowling with me sometime.”
Wonderful. Why did every man want to date her? Not just the young ones, but the old geezers too. Once she had appeared as a guy, and a young woman wanted to cozy up to her. My stars! Why couldn’t she get this right? And why were humans so interested in the opposite sex?
“Your destination is dead ahead.” While he gave Sarah another once-over with his eyes, a car swerved into his lane.
“Look out!” Sarah yelled.
The driver quickly turned around and barely missed the oncoming car. “You okay, miss?” He glanced behind him once more to check on his passenger.
He found no Sarah.
After parking at the curb he inspected the vehicle. “Where’d she go? I know she must have been scared, but there was no way she could exit the car with it moving.” He found a fifty-dollar bill on the seat and picked it up. “Well, I’ll be. She left way too much money, and she kept me from a head-on collision. Who did I have in this cab, anyway? Some kind of angel? Had to be, and me trying to hit on her.” He pushed his cap back. “I’ll think twice about flirting with the next customer. You never know who you’re gonna get as a passenger.”
* * *
Floating into the building, Sarah read the wall directory. Hmmm, evidently Beth owned this building and others rented space from her. Several companies included the name Marsh, but others seemed to have no connection to Beth. An idea came to her when she read the name Fowler Detective Agency.
She slipped into a stall in the ladies’ room, then made an appearance. Making sure no one else visited the area, she walked out and checked her disguise in the mirror. Good. With a dress above the knee, she and Shorty Sheila could pass for twins. She pranced about a step or two. Well, maybe she should ditch the strappy sandals and replace them with a pair of ugly, low-heeled pumps. Sheila Simpson knew how to walk in six-inchers, but she didn’t, and this masquerade needed to work.
She found Gary’s command center listed on the top floor and entered. A dark-haired receptionist greeted her. “Hello, may I help you?”
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d pop in and say hello to Gary.”
“I’m sure he wants to see you, but he isn’t here at the moment. Would you like to make an appointment?”
“Oh, no, just tell him Sheila came by. I wanted to know about the Fowler Detective Agency, and since they are in your building, I assume Gary knows them.”
“Yes, they rent from us. What do you need to know?”
“I might want them to do a background check for me on a certain client. Do they do that sort of thing?”
“As a matter of fact, they do.”
“Good to know, but I’ll ask for Gary’s recommendation before I hire them. Just tell him Sheila wanted to know about getting a background check on a client.”
“And your last name is?” The woman picked up a pen and notepad.
“Just Sheila. He knows me.”
Walking back into the same stall, Sarah disappeared. What a relief to miss Gary. If the man had been there, she would have made her request in person, masquerading as Sheila. What if she failed to be convincing? Sheila flirted, and angels didn’t. Glancing toward The Heavenlies, she mouthed, Thanks.
Now to hang around until Gary returned and make sure he received the message. Sarah slipped into Gary’s office, floated on her back, and drifted into a nap.
* * *
Gary strode into his office. “Hi, Mary. Any messages?”
Sarah sat up. Good, now to see if the man could pick up any vibes from her visit as Sheila.
“A few.” She handed him a stack of notes. “And a woman named Shei
la came by. She didn’t leave her last name. She said you knew her.”
“A petite, beautiful blonde with a good figure?”
The woman nodded. “She wanted to see if you could endorse the Fowler Detective Agency. She has a client she needs a background check on. I told her they were a good agency and we occasionally use them.”
When Gary entered his office and sat at his desk, he wrinkled his brow into crease lines.
Okay, the operation seemed to be taking shape. Now to find the cloud she left hanging over Beth’s house and check there for the latest developments.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Whew! Found her home away from home over Beth’s house. Sarah curled up and heaved a sigh of relief. What to do next? Nothing came to mind but to wait. Glancing down, she noted Beth and Maria at the kitchen table with mugs of coffee and muffins before them. Hearing her stomach rumble, Sarah rolled her eyes.
“The wedding was beautiful. Laney was gorgeous, and Cannon couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Annie made it a fun evening, and I found out she lives on Mandly, so we don’t need to worry about her being homeless.”
“Not far from here.”
“No, it’s too far to walk, and she doesn’t drive, but I’m going to remedy that.” Beth snapped her fingers. “I forgot to ask for her phone number.”
“Maybe you find her on Google.”
“Yes, maybe so. I want to set up a driving lesson as soon as possible.”
Sarah groaned.
“You can always go back to house.”
“True, now that I know where she lives, it will be easy to find her.”
“When you have date with Pastor Browning?”
“In a few days. That’s sort of got me worried.”
“Why?”
“He seems to be looking for a wife.”
Maria giggled. “Just like others.”
“I’ve a good mind to tell all of them to look elsewhere.”
“You miss fun if you do.”
Before Beth could comment, her cell phone rang.
“Hi, Mom.” Sarah could hear Gary’s voice as she tuned into the conversation.
“Hello, son. What’s up with you this morning?”
“I’m thinking of you and Bryan. How’s that coming along?
“He’s rather persistent. He phoned this morning and wants to see me again next week.”
“How do you feel about that?”
Beth sighed. “I might as well tell you, I’m confused. Here at my age, I have three men who profess a profound interest in me, and I’m just not used to the attention. I honestly don’t know if they like me or my bank account.”
“Excuse me, Mom, did you say three?”
“Oh! I guess you don’t know. I’ve gone out a few times with Charles Chadwick, and at the Carlson wedding, Pastor Browning asked me to dinner. He wants to drive all the way to Galveston.”
“Wow, Mom. Impressive.” He laughed. “I’m going to post a picture and brag about my mother on Facebook.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“Just kidding.” He grew solemn. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Yes, but these guys want more than a night out. Bryan wants me to marry him or list my house with him to sell—whichever one comes first. Charles offered to resign from the bank if I’d accept him as a suitor, and Bruce Browning told me outright he is in the market for a wife, and he’s chosen me.”
Gary drummed his fingers on the desk. “Hmmm. I hear angst in your voice. What do you want to do, Mom?”
“Turn back the clock and sit at home once more with Maria and Carlos, but it’s too late for that. I wish I’d never started this dating business.”
“I hear you. I’ve been there a few times myself. Remember Linda? While I dated her in college, I also secretly dated Susan and Charlotte. I had a grand old time until all three met up and discovered that I’d told each of them they were the one and only special girl.” He chuckled. “They were special to me all right, but I didn’t have a single one of them as my exclusive sweetheart. I got dumped in a hurry by all three.”
“That’s not a bad idea. If I tell these men that there are three suitors, maybe they will drop me.”
“Nope. Doesn’t work that way with the opposite sex. I guess with us guys, it becomes a competition thing. Just relax and enjoy the attention. When the time comes, you’ll know what to do.”
“Thanks, son. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mom. Later.”
Beth disconnected and grinned at Maria. “How many mothers confide in their sons about their romantic life?”
Maria shrugged. “Don’t know, but Gary is friend and son. If I had son, I want him just like Gary.”
Beth nodded, and so did Sarah.
* * *
Sarah called forth a scroll of Earth’s calendar days. Okay, not long before Christmas. Everyone on Earth seemed to be stressed with holiday decorating, gift buying, and travel plans. Would she be here below to celebrate the birth of Jesus, or would she be back in The Heavenlies? Hard to predict at this point.
Reviewing the calendar, she counted several days since her visit to Gary’s office, and with nothing new to report, Sarah sighed. Waiting didn’t happen to be her strong suit, but at least she experienced no remarkable, strange incidents these past hours to go on her record. That was a good thing, right?
That might change today. Sarah shuddered. Bruce, the preacher man, should pick Beth up soon for the trip to Galveston. How she dreaded that journey! Flying over bodies of water made her nauseous, and then, what if she got lost again? The very thought brought her stomach to jelly, but the date gave her an opportunity to inspect the minister again. Perhaps he would say something to give away his motives.
When Bruce rang Beth’s doorbell, Sarah floated to stand at his side for a closer scrutiny. Nice-looking guy. A bit of gray scattered in his dark hair. Brown eyes seemed honest enough, but then, who knew for sure? His choice of clothing appeared good—dark brown slacks, brown shirt with an open collar, and a dark rust-colored sports coat.
Beth answered the bell. This lady always appeared perfectly coiffed and dressed for any occasion. How did these earthlings know what to wear to each event? Sarah closed her eyes tightly and shivered as visions of her red dress came to mind. Bad choice, but not so in the case of her charge—she always showed up confident and well-dressed. Beth wore black slacks, a white turtleneck shirt, and a black leather jacket.
“Hi, Beth. Are you ready to go?” Bruce, a few inches taller than Beth, smiled down at her.
“Ready.”
Once the two situated themselves in the car, Sarah decided to anchor herself to the roof of the vehicle. Maybe if she rode on top, that awful seasickness would not occur, and besides, she could be quieter up here. Fortunately, this auto appeared to be a sedate sedan, not at all like that fancy convertible doohickey that Cannon had blasted to Galveston all those months ago. Merciful heavens! No roof on that car and only two seats forced her to fly above him.
Smoothing her long skirt around her feet, she prepared to listen.
“You look lovely, Beth. I’m elated you agreed to have dinner with me, and I’m sorry we missed Dickens on the Strand. I didn’t know it was last weekend until I phoned for tickets.”
“I’m sorry we missed it too. I love the parade and all the characters dressed up in costumes.”
Bruce shook his head. “Some people go to extreme lengths to look authentic in those nineteenth-century get-ups. The characters from A Christmas Carol make you aware of the true spirit of Christmas. Did you know that his story has never been out of print?”
“I’m not surprised. Charles Dickens’s creation remains popular with each generation. It usually appears on television by some group, and it serves as a reminder to give generously to those less fortunate.”
From her position atop the car, Sarah nodded. Of course, now it made sense, a story that featured supernatural spirits—Past, Present, and Future—showed up in the life of Mr. Scr
ooge. And people dressed up like those Victorian characters? How odd. Might be fun, though.
Bruce drove moderately, and for this, Sarah breathed a prayer of gratitude. Oops. What did Bruce say? She tuned in again.
“You’ve been generous to those less fortunate than you, and I admire you for it. Don’t think I’m unaware of the way you help others.” Sarah watched as Bruce flipped some kind of doodad signal and the car changed lanes. So that’s what the little lever does—it makes the car move to the left or right. Hmmm, store that for later use when it came time to learn to drive. Okay, got it, but then what could be the reason for that big round thing the driver clung to that hung in front of him? The passenger didn’t have one to cling to. Odd, this driving thingy.
Beth frowned. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Hannah Dickson sang your praises. She came to my office recently and confided in me. She recounted her fall from affluence to a near-penniless existence. She said you came to her aid and set up private funds for her.” He turned to glance at Beth with a look of pure admiration. “That was an honorable thing to do.” He shook his head. “After her husband’s death, the second husband went through her portfolio like an alcoholic guzzles booze. And then there’s the Johnson family. They don’t know who gives to them, but I’ve always suspected you.”
“It’s the least I can do for a disabled veteran. He’ll be on his feet before long.” Beth glanced out the window. “I didn’t want Hannah to know what I’d done. I wonder how she found out.”
“I don’t know how she discovered your generosity, but she wanted me to know what a fine woman you are.” He grinned. “I think she was trying to play matchmaker for us.”
“Matchmaker? Oh no! I’m embarrassed.”
Bruce grinned. “Her visit was just icing on the cake. I’d already decided we should pair up.”
“Because I’ve been generous?” Beth’s tone raised a notch in disbelief.
Bruce reached over to pat Beth’s hand. “Please don’t misunderstand. I’m telling you a few of the reasons I admire you. Your Christian faith shines through all your works, and that’s important to me.”