For Whom the Smell Tolls: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (A Nora Black Midlife Psychic Mystery Book 2)

by Renee George

  “Yeah,” she said. She smiled sadly. “Yes, of course it is.”

  “That will be seven dollars and forty-nine cents,” the tech said as she pointed to the credit card machine. “Answer the questions on the screen.”

  “I’ll pay cash.”

  Her tone was tight with annoyance. “You’ll still have to answer the questions.”

  “Barb,” Leila said. “Be nice to Nora. She’s a good soul.”

  Barb shook her head then chuckled wryly. “If she’s okay with you, Leila, then I guess she’s okay with me.”

  I grinned. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” The screen had me confirm my identity and agree that I didn’t plan to use the pills for any nefarious purposes. “They are serious about this.”

  “You’d be surprised at how many people find a reason to skedaddle when I ask them for their identification,” Barb said, sliding the medicine box across the counter with the receipt.

  I placed it in my purse. “Is the drug problem around here really that bad?” I had a flash of Fiona McKay snorting white powder off her hand.

  Barb shrugged. “Most of the folks looking to buy are regulars, so it’s hard to know for sure. You should ask the chief of police’s wife.” She nodded to Leila.

  “Shawn doesn’t bring work home with him,” Leila said.

  I knew that wasn’t true. At least it hadn’t been when we were married. He used to tell me all about his workdays over dinner. Maybe it was because I’d been the daughter of a cop. Or maybe because we hadn’t had children. No little ears to hear all the nitty-gritty.

  “Well, I better get back to the shop. It’s so nice to see you again, Leila. Maybe we can get coffee sometime.”

  She smiled. “I’d really love that. How is Monday or Tuesday next week?”

  I was startled at the invitation, but I rallied quickly. “Uhm, sure. Tuesday. One? At Moo-La-Lattes?”

  “Perfect,” Leila said. “It’s a date.”

  On my way out the door, I remembered that I forgot to buy eye drops. As I made my way up the aisle with eye care products and vitamins, I overheard Leila say, “Thank you for arranging the donation drive. It could save a lot of lives.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Leila. Anything for you and Shawn, you know that.”

  I hadn’t heard of a donation drive going on in town. Were they raising money for charity? I made a mental note to offer Leila help when we met for coffee on Tuesday.

  “Well, I’ll be, Nora Black,” said a cheery female voice. It was Fiona McKay, Reese’s cousin. She had her thick hair in bouncy curls today, and she had a gorgeous glow about her skin. It was hard to reconcile this vibrant, healthy girl with the one I’d seen in her memory.

  “Hi, Fiona. How are you doing today?”

  “I’m good as hell.” She grinned when she said it.

  I recognized the title of Lizzo’s hit song. It had become an anthem for Gilly after she’d broken things off with a guy, whose name I can’t remember, but who’d ended up being another jealous jerk. She would play the song on full blast in a declaration of independence.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” I said. Fiona’s smile was infectious. “You seem really happy this morning. Did you get good news?”

  “You can say that,” she said. She waved her left hand, and I could see that she still wore the cuff bracelet, but a ruby and diamond ring adorned her left ring finger. She glanced over her shoulder then back to me. “I can’t tell anyone yet.”

  “That’s great.”

  Suddenly, Fiona tensed, her eyes darting away. She pivoted and stumbled, grabbing my purse arm to steady herself. “I’m so sorry, Nora,” she said, all the joy gone from her face and her voice.

  “It’s all right,” I said, trying to right myself.

  Her gaze focused on someplace, or someone, behind me. “It was so nice to see you again. Reese told me you can be trusted.”

  It was a strange compliment. “Uhm…thanks. Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” She gave me a long look. “Goodbye, Nora.”

  “Uhm, bye.” I hadn’t even gotten the words out before she fast-walked down the aisle and around the corner.

  I was so focused on Fiona’s departure that I didn’t notice the man who had just walked up behind me.

  “Excuse me,” the guy said. “Do I know you?”

  I turned and nearly swallowed my tongue when I recognized him as Phil Williams, the manager of the Rose Palace Resort—Gilly’s old boss, and the man responsible for a good portion of crime in Garden Cove.

  Wait. Was he the one who’d scared off Fiona? Maybe. I mean, the guy scared the crap out of me.

  I’d only seen Phil once, and that was when he’d fired Gilly after her bogus arrest, and I’d had to drag her away before she could land herself another murder charge.

  He was staring hard at me, and I realized I hadn’t answered his question. An uncomfortable chuckle erupted, and then I said, “I don’t believe so.” I took my glasses from my purse and put them on to make a show of studying the eye drop bottles.

  Phil didn’t take the hint. “I know I’ve seen you.”

  “It’s a small town,” I said. My heart picked up a beat. This man was not above arson or murder for hire, and I didn’t want to be on his radar. I shrugged, keeping my head down to read the ingredients on the Optic A bottle in my hand. “You can’t help but cross paths with people sometimes.”

  A tall, balding man with glasses walked out of a side door. “Phil,” he said, waving the local criminal boss toward him.

  “Maybe I’ll see you around,” Phil said. He thrust his business card at me. “If you want to get a bite to eat sometime, give me a call.”

  When Hell froze over, I thought. I avoided eye contact as I took the card. After Phil disappeared into the backroom of the pharmacy, I put the bottle back on the shelf and practically raced out of the building. Much like Fiona had.

  Holy crap. Phil Flippin’ Williams, the man who’d fired my best friend from a job she loved, the man ultimately responsible for Carl Grigsby trying to kill me, and the man I most wanted to see behind bars, had just asked me out on a date.

  Chapter 5

  “I can’t believe that scumbag hit on you!” Gilly balled her fists against her hips. “I’ll kill him.”

  “For hitting on me?” I waved my hand at her. Six customers browsed in the shop, and all of them paused at my BFF’s lethal proclamation. In a quiet voice, I added, “Maybe you shouldn’t talk about killing someone in public. Remember what happened the last time.”

  Her drunk ex had shown up during our girls’ get-together at the now-closed Bar-B-Q Pit and had attempted to intimidate me. Gilly had fiercely defended me, threatening to end Lloyd. The next day, she was charged with his murder.

  Gilly whipped her gaze around the shop, and we both plastered on smiles.

  “Just joking.” She grabbed my elbow and took me aside, and in a much quieter voice, she said, “Are you going to tell Easy?”

  I frowned at her. “I am. But not because the guy flirted with me.” Ezra had been investigating Phil Williams for a couple of months now, and as far as I knew, he hadn’t been able to gather much evidence of the man’s criminal activity. Phil had gone into a room with the pharmacy guy, which could have been for a myriad of legitimate reasons. “It’s probably nothing, but he was meeting with a balding guy with glasses. I think it’s the pharmacist.”

  Gilly nodded. “That would be Burt Adler. The description fits, anyhow.”

  “Oh, Burt Adler,” Pippa said. She’d finished ringing up a customer and joined the conversation. “I heard his wife kicked him out of the house. He’s been staying on his houseboat.”

  “It’s good to know your time at the coffee shop is being spent wisely,” I teased her.

  “I actually heard this down the bread aisle at Walmart, thank you very much.” She stuck her tongue out for punctuation. “I can always keep what I hear to myself,” she shrugged, “you know, if you don’t want to know any of the hot goss.
”

  “No,” Gilly said before I could. “You’re like our very own Garden Cove Google.”

  I snickered. Then sneezed. “Ow.” A pain blossomed in my lower back. I reached around to the aching spot. “Oh, damn.” When I tried to move, it felt as if someone had grabbed my muscle just above my right buttock and was twisting the crap out of it. I hunched to the right, trying to get some relief.

  “Are you okay?” Gilly asked. “What happened?”

  “Flippin’ sneeze,” I wheezed on a whoosh of breath as the pain increased. “I think I gave myself a back spasm.”

  “Do you need to go to the doctor?” Pippa asked. “We can close up shop and take you to the walk-in clinic.”

  “I don’t think I can sit,” I said. Bending at the waist intensified the constricting pain. “I need to lie down for a minute.”

  “Let’s go to the massage room.”

  “Miss, how much for the rosemary and spearmint lotion?” a woman asked.

  Pippa nodded to her. “I’ll be right with you.” Her brows wrinkled with concern. “I’ll take care of the front. You let Gils work you over.”

  “I don’t need a massage,” I protested as another sharp twinge nearly dropped me to my knees.

  Gilly ushered me into her section of the shop and led me into a quiet room. “I don’t have a client for an hour. I’ll see if I can loosen it up. You know the drill. You don’t have to undress. Just climb on up and lie down with your face in the cradle.”

  I was not only Gilly’s best friend, but I’d become one of her best customers. Since my hysterectomy, I hadn’t recovered all my strength. Not ideal when I was dating a guy nearly two decades my junior. While I could keep up with Ezra in spirit, my body sometimes had other ideas. So, I got ninety-minute massages every couple of weeks, and the reflexology Gilly did on my arms, hands, and feet was like magic.

  I felt like a slug as I crawled onto the padded table. Gilly flipped on the heat, and I immediately felt the warmth settle into my front side. She slipped off my low heels, slid a sheet over my body, and then placed heating pads over my low back. I took some deep breaths to relax. She turned up the sitar music.

  “Do you want some aromatherapy?” she asked.

  My nose had managed to get even stuffier in the face cradle. “Right now, someone could fart in a rosebush, and I wouldn’t smell a thing,” I said.

  “You’re such a poet.” Gilly giggled. “Are you comfortable?”

  “As I can be.” I tried to slide my hip over a little more, but the smallest movement reengaged the spasm. “Distract me,” I said. “How are the kids?”

  She started rubbing my low back over the towels. “Marco can’t stop singing his dad’s praises. He’s so impressed with Gio.” I heard the sadness in her voice. “Ari is confused and angry. She won’t talk to me about Vegas. I feel like she’s hiding something, but she’s at an age where I can’t force her to tell me what’s going on in her head.”

  I chuckled. “Ow.” Note to self: no laughing during a back spasm. “Ari’s always been headstrong.” Ari was one of the most grounded and focused people I knew. I sometimes wished she would relax and not take everything so seriously, but the girl knew what she wanted—a highly prized scholarship to the California Institute of Technology—and she wouldn’t let anything get in her way. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

  “Would you?” Her finger pressure deepened. “She really trusts you.”

  “I can’t promise I’ll tell you what she says,” I told her. “That is, if she says anything at all. But if it’s something you should know, I’ll press her to confide in you.”

  “That’s fair. I want Ari to be able to talk to someone she can trust when she’s reluctant to turn to me. Someone who is smart and who loves her, so I’m okay if I don’t get to know everything,” Gilly said.

  “You’re a great mom,” I told her.

  In the next breath, she added, “But you will tell me if it’s something bad and you can’t convince her to tell me, right?”

  I chuckled again. This time it hurt less. “If it’s something really bad, then yes I will. You have my word. How are you doing?” I asked. “I can’t believe Gio showed up without any warning.”

  “So typical,” she said. “He came back to Garden Cove the same way he left, with no consideration for my feelings.” She removed the heating pads and went to work with earnest on my muscles. “Why do I fall for jerks?”

  “Because they aren’t jerks when you fall for them,” I said. “They only show their true selves after you’ve opened your heart to them.”

  “Well, this heart is closed. At least temporarily. After what happened with Lloyd, I don’t trust my instincts when it comes to men.” She started some percussion taps. “Hey, maybe now that you’re dating Detective Hottie, you can prescreen any new men in my life.”

  “You want me to turn Ezra into your own personal dating app? Don’t get me wrong, I would totally do it.” Ezra did sort of owe me, but the request would definitely put a strain on our new relationship. However, for Gilly, I would risk the world.

  “I’m kidding,” she said, to my relief. “How are you feeling now?”

  I wiggled my hips, and my back only twinged a little. “Better.”

  “Good. Now you won’t have any excuse to back out of dinner tonight with Easy and Mason.”

  “Cripes. I forgot all about that.” The wheels in my head started spinning. A back spasm was a perfectly valid excuse to get out of the obligation. I mean, it wasn’t like I’d planned to get hurt. Allergies led to sneezing, and sneezing led to back pain. On the other hand, who threw their back out by sneezing? A fifty-one-year-old, out-of-shape woman, that’s who. Did I really want to draw Ezra’s attention to my fragility?

  No. No, I did not.

  Sully’s Surf and Turf was situated between the Rose Palace Resort and Garden Cove Lake Condos out on Highway 44. It had a beautiful view of the lake from its deck seating, which was its main selling point. The seafood was frozen, not fresh, and even the catch-of-the-day specials were not local fish. However, they made tasty fried shrimp and hand-battered catfish.

  When I’d gotten home that afternoon, I’d taken three ibuprofens and soaked in a hot bath for half an hour before dressing. I wore one of my tighter body shapers under jeans and a t-shirt to give my low back some support. I went through a dozen of my shoes until I found a pair of ankle-high boots that had no heel but were still fashionable. Unfortunately, my back still felt sore, but I was determined to not let it show.

  Ezra had offered to pick me up. I’d told him I would meet him and Mason at Sully’s, instead. If dinner with Ezra and Mason took an ugly or strange turn, I wanted to be able to make a quick escape.

  I saw Ezra’s big red truck in the parking lot and found a nearby spot to pull in. It was only seven o’clock, so the sun was still an hour out from setting, and since Sully’s deck faced the west, it would give us a nice backdrop for dinner. At least we’d have some scenery to stare at if we ran out of conversation.

  The place was packed, and a dozen people sat in the waiting area on wooden benches that lined the walls. I stood behind a family of seven in the entryway as the hostess took their name. She gave them a square plastic gadget and said, “When it lights up, your table will be ready.”

  The back of my throat still felt scratchy, but the Pseudo-Act seemed to be doing its job. I’d found some eye drops in my medicine cabinet, so at least I no longer looked like I might start bleeding tears at any minute.

  “How many?” she asked.

  “I’m meeting some people,” I said. “I think they’re here already.”

  “Name?”

  “Holden,” I said, leaned over to see if his name was on the list. “First name Ezra.”

  “Oh, you’re with Easy.” She raised her brows and gave me an appraising glance. I didn’t care if I measured up. Her smile was amiable enough, but her gaze wasn’t exactly friendly. “Follow me,” she said. “They’re out on the deck.”
/>
  “Thanks, but I can find my way out there.”

  I headed through the dining room to the back of the restaurant. Was I making a mistake? Would this dinner be the beginning of the end for Ezra and me? I hoped not. Still, every part of me wanted to turn on my no-heel shoe and run far away.

  When Ezra saw me through the glass window, his wide smile put a rod in my spine. I sucked up my fears and insecurities and crossed the distance to join him at a table next to the railing. A young man with hair past his ears and his head tilted down to look at his phone barely noticed my arrival.

  Ezra stood up and, hot damn, he looked handsome. He wore jeans similar to the ones he’d had on the day before, and a collared, short-sleeved, dark blue button-down shirt. And, while I’d never been a fan of westerns, his tan suede boots conjured up all kinds of fantasies about riding a cowboy.

  “Hi, Nora.” He dipped down and kissed my cheek.

  I tensed then forced myself to relax. “Hi back,” I said, focusing my attention on Ezra. “Nice night.”

  “Sure is,” he agreed. He pulled out the chair for me as he gestured to the teenager who didn’t notice I was taking up space next to him. “This is Mason.” He frowned. “Put your phone away, and say hello to Nora,” he said to the kid.

  Mason looked up and blinked, as if just noticing that there was a world going on around him. He nodded to me. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I said in return. I waited to see if he would say more.

  He didn’t.

  Craptastic. It looked like the sunset was going to get a lot of play, because conversations would be in short supply.

  “How was work today?” Ezra asked.

  His warm gaze eased some of the tension still in my shoulders. “Busy. My allergies kicked up something awful, so Pippa made me work in the back so I wouldn’t scare customers with my monster sneezes.” I didn’t mention the sneeze-initiated back spasm because I had my pride. “How have you been?”

  “Good,” he said. He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. He nodded toward the lake. “It’s been pretty quiet so far, but I imagine with all the drunks on the lake, things will kick off soon.”