“Vanessa is a kind and sensitive soul, Jolene. And she’s going through a tough time right now. I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but take it easy on her, will you?”
Okay, nix that last thought. “Oh, so now I’m a troglodyte?”
Annoyance crossed his face. “You’re making a scene.”
“You started it when you accused me of attacking your girlfriend.” I sounded like a jealous teenager, but I turned my head to see a big yellow bird and a werewolf staring at us, open speculation coloring their expressions. I flushed under their continuing gaze, twisted free of Bradford’s grip, and stalked off in search of Snow White and her mysterious caller.
Chapter Three
My Favorite Ghost
Preston caught up with me fifteen minutes later at the bottom of the staircase. My search for Vanessa had been fruitless. The damn woman seemed to stay one step ahead. I’d combed the upstairs to no avail and was about to check outdoors when my date found me.
His face mirrored impatience. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought you’d like to know that Roddy took Billie Jo home to rest. Also, Vanessa is getting ready to make a big announcement in the great room.”
With hardly a blink, I linked my arm in his. “Forgive me, Preston, for being distracted.” I forced a weak smile. “I promise not to leave your side for the remainder of the evening.”
The tension eased from his face. “Well, that’s good news.” His eyes brightened with pleasure. “I missed my lady.”
I let those softly spoken words go unanswered, my mind tangled with the mystery of the Queen of the Vampires and her mysterious caller to worry about the implication his words evoked. Tonight, I had to stay focused on the matter at hand. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with the consequences of the backyard frolic with the smitten doctor.
The first thing I noticed when we entered the great room was Vanessa clinging to Bradford like a copperhead on a sun-warmed rock. The second thing I noticed was how those golden eyes narrowed with animosity the instant they settled on me. A slow satisfied smile crossed her sultry red lips.
The air sizzled with cosmic radiation. My psychic radar clicked on as waves of intense vibrational frequency rushed at me from the Vampire Queen. Instinctively, I took a step back, gathering my heightened intuitive faculties around me for protection, all the while wracking my brain for any information that would explain the weird sensations assailing my person.
Okay. This was new. My spiritual software hadn’t covered human-to-human psychic assault, and I had no clue how to fight something I didn’t fully understand. Suddenly, without thought, Scarlett’s name floated across my line of vision like a plastic banner trailing behind an airplane.
Ah, the answer to all my unworldly problems. Scarlett Cantrell—my favorite ghost with the sass of a Southern belle, and the finesse of a highly skilled card shark.
As Preston and I moved farther into the room to join the rest of the family, I cleared my physic channel of cosmic static and sent out an emergency SOS in universal celestial Morse code. For extra measure, and to keep my fingers still, I crossed them behind my back and waited for backup.
Which never happened. Scarlett was a no-show. Five minutes passed without one ghostly peep from the Great Beyond. Not even the fluttering of big kick-ass angel wings.
Luckily, by that time, the Vampire Queen had moved to stand in front of a huge stone fireplace that dominated the great room. The strange vibrations abated as she raised her hand and called for quiet. She waited for the partygoers to settle down before she motioned for Mama to join her at the front of the room.
“I would like to thank you, my beloved guests, for joining me on this special occasion to launch what I hope to become a bestseller.” She looped her arm around Mama’s shoulder. A light applause broke out. “And I’m happy to report that advance sales on Mama Tucker’s Ole Fashioned Southern Good Eats are experiencing a favorable outlook.” Again, light applause broke out. “I received a phone call earlier that leads me to believe that Annie Mae Tucker cookbooks will be in high demand not only here in the South, but all over the world.”
Daddy let out a loud catcall, which prompted a frown from Mama. Beside me, Deena grabbed my hand. Tears of pride sparkled in her eyes. I wanted to be as enthusiastic, but Vanessa’s mention of an earlier phone call had distracted me. What I had overheard in the study definitely hadn’t been about cookbooks. Or could it? I distinctly heard Vanessa say that now wasn’t the time to make the switch. Switch what? Cookbooks? If so, now I had more of a reason to investigate Vanessa than ever before. Cheat Mama? No way in hell.
My attention was immediately drawn back to Vanessa when she announced in a light, jovial tone, “…and now that my fourth Dark Enchantment book is in the hands of my publisher, I’d like to announce privately to my friends gathered here at my home, my next anticipated project which is sure to stir a little excitement in the publishing world.” Here she paused.
A low rumble of voices sounded across the crowded room. Speculating glances passed among the guests as whispered comments swirled like a small swarm of agitated honeybees. I watched with concern as Bradford’s brows drew downward in a frown. He knew all about that project, I was sure of it. And, apparently, he didn’t like it one little bit.
Which piqued my curiosity all the more. My gaze focused on his delicious figure, and tried to read between the lines, but his rugged features smoothed out, betraying nothing to the observer. However, that only served to make me more determined to root out the problem between the two.
And it figures Scarlett would choose that particular moment to answer my summons dressed as…um, what? A biker chick? Jeans and leather? Yes, definitely a biker chick with skin-tight jeans and a black T-shirt several sizes too small. Her store-bought boobs clearly visible in spite of the leather vest that strained to contain them. Wow, what was Heaven coming to? Surely, there had to be a dress code enforced in the celestial golden city in the sky.
“What’s happening, girlfriend?” She clicked her fingers to get my attention. “Hey, my eyes are in my head, Claiborne.”
My head snapped up, startling Preston because he squeezed my hand, and I turned to see a quizzical expression light his eyes. I gave him a quick smile of assurance and waited until he turned his attention back to Vanessa who continued to chat about a sizzling exposé on her life as a Southern writer. Sexual escapades and all. Names included. A no-holes barred look at the cutthroat world of publishing.
Several outraged gasps from the guests captured my attention. Tension mounted like a Friday night football game with out-of-commission restrooms.
“Bitch! You wouldn’t dare!” A red-faced Statue of Liberty shouted.
“I’ll sue for slander!” Peaches Noble screamed from the back of the room.
“Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord,” an angry male voice reverberated from the crowd.
“Dead people don’t tell tales.” A furious voice echoed with evil.
Oh, Lordy. Vanessa’s writer friends didn’t share her enthusiasm for the project. Not that I blamed them. No one likes their dirty laundry exposed to the world. I shot a quick glance at Bradford. His frown had returned.
I don’t rattle easily, but the strong words, and hateful glances directed at Vanessa had me rethinking things. I detest violence, no really, and from the looks of the guests, violence simmered just beneath the surface. Vanessa treaded quicksand with this new book. Some mud holes are best left alone. Like this one humdinger of a slush pile.
“Claiborne, I don’t have all night, you know.” Scarlett snickered, regaining my attention. “You’ve got two minutes to tell me why I’m here. After that, well, I’m outta here. I have a job to do.”
I blinked several times and righted myself. Scarlett was right. I needed her advice, and I couldn’t have a conversation with her here in front of everyone. Quickly, I excused myself, an urgent bathroom call and fled the room, Scarlett in tow, and ducked into the nearest powder room.
Scarlett remained quiet as I explained the strange evening to her.
“What do you think it means?” A nervous tingling had started in my inner being. I chalked it up to Halloween overload. That, alcohol and yummy outdoor sex with the doctor.
Scarlett tugged at the stretched neckline of her black Harley-Davidson T-shirt. “I’m not sure, Claiborne, but something’s screwy in the cosmos tonight. There’s a lot of chatter on the universal network.”
I sat down on the toilet seat to relieve my aching toes. Cowboy boots weren’t my thing. I prefer heels. “Such as?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, but all the signs point to an uprising among the fallen ones.”
I rolled my eyes. “Scatterbrain. That happened eons ago. I’m interested in the here and now.”
Scarlett tapped the side of her head with long green fingernails. “Give me a moment to plug into the cosmic starvine.” After a minute of silence, she gave me an impish grin. “There’s mischief abroad in this house. Twins. One of the twins will lose.”
Confusion hit me. Twins? One of the twins will lose? What could that possibly mean? “Are you playing a game with me?” I asked though dry lips, perturbed with the delay. “You’re talking in riddles.”
She cast me a mean look. “I rarely play games, dar-ling. And never with women. This is exactly what I heard. Now, is there anything else? If not, then tootle-loo.”
“Well, there is one—”
Scarlett didn’t wait for me to finish. With a flash, she vanished—leaving me alone with the strange riddle ringing through my thoughts.
The mystery deepened.
I took a long breath, counted to ten, and exhaled slowly, allowing the surrounding stillness to calm my rattled nerves. First things first. Twins. I latched onto that like a hungry tick on a fat, lazy coonhound. Disguised in the crowd of angry guests were twins. That’s my first move. Find twins at a Halloween costume party where most of the guests wore masks.
Impossible.
By the time I had returned to the great room the party had broken apart. Preston appeared tired, his face a mixture of anxiety and anger. Mama and Daddy were nowhere in sight. Deena and Ryder had also left. Even Snow White and Prince Charming had absconded. Only a few stragglers remained. No chance in hell of locating twins now.
I sided up next to Preston, linking my arm in his. “I guess this means the party’s over?”
“As usual you missed the best part.” His frosty tone signaled displeasure. “Should I even bother to ask where you’ve been? Damn, Jolene, I’ve spent most of the night looking or waiting for you.”
Oh, great day. I smothered the sigh that lodged in my throat. Some men were such babies. Take the tit away, and they pitch a hissy fit until the tit is firmly reinserted in their mouth. Brother. I had too much on my mind to deal with a temperamental man, but he was my date, and I had neglected him. The backyard frolic flashed through my mind. Well, not all the time.
With that pleasing picture planted upmost in my mind, I slipped an ardent hand under Preston’s faux suede shirt. His nipples immediately hardened under my light caress. “I’m ready to head to the house and a warm bed, Tonto.” I tweaked his nipples harder with my fingertips. “I’m sure I can make it up to you in some way. Any suggestions?”
Preston answered with a wolfish grin. “Ke-mo-sah-bee, your horse awaits.”
The drive home was short and silent, much to my liking. The smile on Preston’s face left no doubt what occupied his thoughts. That, too, was much to my liking. Perhaps at some time during the evening, he had seen the illusive twins among the guests. Or had glimpsed Vanessa’s mysterious caller. Or overheard some interesting fact that would help me solve this mystery. I could question him outright, but I had learned the hard way that some words can come back to bite you. More precisely, land you in jail. No, I needed Preston to be unaware he was being interrogated. And I’m an expert at extracting information from a distracted man. I have big boobs.
Chapter Four
Deadly Consequences
Late in the afternoon, three days later, Bradford showed up at the salon. I knew he had a stick in his craw the instant he strode through the door with a worried expression on his unshaven face and headed straight for my station. The disturbing psychic vibrations zinged me as he drew near. Weird. Definitely weird.
“I need to speak with you ASAP.” His tense voice strained with some unspoken crisis. He gave a quick nod of acknowledgment to my client who stared open-mouthed from my black leatherette stylist chair. Around us the soft chatter of the curious began. New fodder for the grapevine. By tomorrow Whiskey Creek would be abuzz with the Bald Eagle’s flight to the abandoned nest. In other words, I’m the abandoned nest and Bradford was sniffing around another hen. Poor Vanessa. Gag.
I flashed him a “give-me-a-minute” smile in his direction as I finished with my client’s comb out. Bradford paced nervously until I whipped the cape from around my client’s neck and sent her to the reception desk to pay her bill.
Since it was near closing time, and Jane Ross had been my last client, I instructed our receptionist, Holly to lock the door behind her when she left, then steered Bradford to Deena’s office knowing she’d left early for an appointment with her wedding planner. Billie Jo was still out sick, and we would have plenty of privacy since most of the staff would be leaving.
Bradford sank with a sigh into the plush chair opposite Deena’s desk. “Thanks for seeing me on short notice, Jolene. I didn’t know where else to turn, and you’re my only hope.”
I shut the door behind me, and settled into Deena’s chair—needing the expanse of the desktop between us. Bradford appeared distraught. I wanted to take him in my arms and soothe his ruffled feathers. That would never do. I’d moved on. Three days of luscious sex with another man was a clear-cut signal that I’d moved on.
The disturbing psychic vibrations around him intensified, and a slight buzzing sounded in my right ear. Gnats. It buzzed in my left ear. Perturbed, I peered closer at Bradford and noticed for the first time a pale, pulsing light off his left shoulder. I couldn’t make out any details other than a faint rainbow-colored figure hugging close to him. Real close. A nature spirit? Disincarnate entity? And apparently, this citizen of “inner space” had a hold on Bradford’s physical sphere because he kept glancing over his left shoulder as if he could discern his invisible companion.
“What can I help you with, Bradford?” I asked, intrigued by this unexpected turn of events, and I wondered if this unusual visit could be related to Halloween night and the weird riddle of the twins. If so, I fully intended to lend my aid. Curiosity had taken a bite, and I was hell-bent on answers. Preston hadn’t been any help at all. The only thing he noticed during the night was my more-than-a-mouthful boobs and had focused his energy on how to get into my panties. Well, he’d succeeded in that endeavor, but nothing else. No twins had come across his radar.
Bradford leaned forward. “This confession might shock you, but I’ve got to put an end to it before I lose my mind.” His voice strained on the last words, and a light sweat broke out across his brow.
The rainbow-colored figure glowed brighter with every word, and the slight buzzing sound in my ears grew to a roar. I reached up in an attempt to swat away the disturbance, but the buzzing only grew louder.
“Stop it,” I shouted at his invisible companion who continued to pulsate multicolors much like a disco strobe light from the ’80s. Now, added to the noise, the rotating lights were making me dizzy and nauseated.
“Jolene?” Bradford’s hand gripped my outstretched arm. “Are you all right? Is something wrong? Stop what?” His Southern twang twanged strong with tension.
I swallowed hard and fought back the urge to confide in him, but Bradford wasn’t ready for the truth. That’s why we were no longer a couple. Samuel Bradford, the pragmatic police detective, didn’t believe in the afterlife. If I mentioned a ghost, he’d be out of here like a shot. Supernatural wasn’t in his vocabula
ry. No, I had to handle this with kid gloves to spare him, and me, the embarrassment that comes with my special gift. Really, at times, a curse. Like now.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement. Not physical, but the slight disturbance of air as if a live body walked by. Distracted for a moment, I hesitated, intrigued by this new experience. I could see the effects of citizens of inner space, or departed spirits, move though earth’s atmosphere. Cool.
With a shake of my head, I returned my attention back to Bradford. The distraction had given me time to gather my wits. The noise had quieted, and the rainbow-colored figure had dimmed to a pale, silvery beam hovering close to his shoulder.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to shout,” I apologized. “I’ve been having some trouble with my inner ear. A loud ringing that’s driving me nuts. You were about to tell me what brings you here and how I can help.”
His eyes met mine. He arched a brow shaking his head slightly. “It’s about Vanessa,” he began.
My smile withered. Christ. My ex-boyfriend wanted advice about his new main squeeze. Damn my freakin’ luck. My throat tickled from lack of moisture. I gave a funny little cough to ease the tickling. “I’m not the one to come to for advice about relationships, Bradford,” I croaked. God, he looked yummy with a five-o’clock shadow covering his face.
“Oh, no. Don’t misunderstand. I’m not here about my relationship with Vanessa. It’s another matter entirely.”
Thank God for small miracles. “Okay. Well, then, what?”
“It started with that damn announcement Halloween night. A mistake. I told her not to do it but no, she was so full of herself. Not her usual gentle personality.” He took a shaky breath. “Later, her mother walked in on us fighting. Betty jumped to the wrong conclusion. I would never hit a woman. Even a hysterical one. And she was. Hysterical.”
A Dead Pig in the Sunshine Page 3