When I turned back around, Officer Rivers had pocketed her notepad and pen. “Well, not much here to investigate. This was purely an accident.” She twirled the business card in her hand. “Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Lacewell, and I’ll be sure to stop in for that free haircut when your beauty shop opens.”
Since Mama had refused a trip to the hospital, the first responders packed up their equipment and left, leaving the shop buzzing with speculation about her accident. From the way jaws were flapping, I knew the telephone lines would be abuzz in about fifteen minutes, if not already on fire—one of the disadvantages of small town living, but it beats heavy traffic and smog.
Billie Jo had taken my advice and gone home. After light applause from the occupants of my beauty salon, Lilith—after receiving a grateful hug from Deena and Mama—waltzed out the front door clothed in the illusion of innocence and humility. Only I could see beneath the beautiful mirage to the monstrous fire-breathing creature waiting to strike at the next opportune moment.
A demon had invaded Whiskey Creek, and I was the only one to recognize that her presence was an omen of disaster. My family and friends couldn’t perceive the danger, but I could, and that was all that mattered.
A spark of hope flared, and a plan began to take shape.
****
“Jolene, honey, I asked you here to discuss your mama.”
I lifted my gaze from the family of ducks gathered at the water’s edge for the bits of bread I tossed at them, to fasten my eyes on Daddy’s slumped shoulders. “I figured as much.” I looped my arm in his and pressed close to him. “I’m sorry for this morning. I should’ve been gentler with y’all, but I lost my head. You know I’m not good in a crisis. I tend to fly off the handle and get myself in deeper water.”
We were standing on the dirt path that wound around Joggers Pond in the midafternoon. The crisp fall air felt refreshing after the warm, stuffiness of a packed salon. In the distance, the Methodist church steeple rose above the towering trees, their leaves flaming red and gold against the cloudless blue sky.
He patted my arm. “But you always come through in a pinch, honey. That’s why I wanted to talk privately with you. I need a better sense of what’s going on. Especially after those two fluke accidents involving Annie Mae.”
“Fluke ain’t exactly the word I would use, Daddy. They were carried out by Heaven’s assassin.”
At my pronouncement, Daddy frowned, shaking his head. “This is the hardest part for me to accept, Jolene. Glory be, God doesn’t assassinate people!”
“Oh, yes, he does,” I argued, my voice rising with every word. “The Good Book confirms it in Job where it says a man’s days are numbered, and he can’t live longer than the time set. What a bum deal. When your number pops up in the number generator wheel, Heaven sends out the Grim Reaper to cut you down whether you like it or not! In my book, that’s assassination.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke but allowed the sights and sounds of Joggers Pond to wash over us. I continued to toss bread upon the water while sending another silent universal SOS heavenward, hoping Scarlett might be in the near vicinity and answer my summons. Although to the casual observer I might appear calm, the fact is I was wound tighter than the skunkvine in my front yard.
Since my ghostly sidekick was giving me the silent treatment, I gave Daddy a quick rundown of Mama’s situation with the list. I left out my interaction with the she-demon, Lilith Lacewell, and my suspicion she had been dispatched to put an end to Mama’s earthly life.
Daddy scrubbed a hand over his forehead. “We have to figure this out, Jolene. I can’t imagine my life without Annie Mae.” He turned to look at me. Tears burned in his eyes. “She’s the reason I get out of bed every morning.”
I turned away before he could see the fear his words provoked. Up until now, I had been running on nervous energy and outrage, but in this peaceful place with Daddy, intense fear took hold of me. What if I failed to save Mama? And if I did fail, how would her death affect the rest of the family? Mama was the glue that held us together. Losing her would alter our lives forever. Nothing would ever be the same again.
God, I hated change.
And everything was changing around me.
Suddenly a stray thundercloud rolled in, blocking the sunlight and mirroring my mood. A crack of thunder had the family of ducks fleeing as the songbirds ceased their singing, and several nearby mothers with strollers turned and scurried away in the rising wind. My psychic radar kicked on, and I swept the surrounding area for the undead. Across the lake, perched in the branches of the towering trees surrounding the Methodist church, I discerned several large, black lurking shapes. Not birds. Too big. Buzzards? If so, they were the biggest damn buzzards in the state.
A creepy feeling skittered down my back as I continued to survey the atmosphere. A restless, strong and growing evil—designed and purposeful—seemed to be building in the heart of the city. I watched as several more black shapes joined the others in the trees overlooking the lake. Another boom of thunder sounded from the lone cloud.
What the hell?
Daddy tapped me on the arm. “Jolene, I believe we’d better continue this discussion in the car. There’s a storm brewing.”
I cast an eye heavenward and caught a flash of silver. Not lightning at all. Great balls of fire—Scarlett on her heavenly Harley! From the angle of her descent, she was landing in Peaceful Valley Cemetery. For some unknown reason she had taken to visiting her gravesite once a month, and I was tickled pink at the prospect of going there. If I hurried, I could manage a private chat with her before she disappeared back into the wide blue yonder.
“I need to scoot, Daddy,” I said, quickly pulling myself together, my mind already formulating a plea for Scarlett’s help with my plan. “Just remember to keep a sharp eye on Mama at all times, and call me if there’s a problem. Deena’s on guard duty at the moment, and when I get back to the salon, I won’t let her out of my sight. Trust me that everything will be okay.” I smiled to lighten the mood.
He responded with a half-smile. “I think I’ll mosey over to the salon before heading home. I know Roddy’s crew has gone over the salon for additional hazards, but I want to check out the reception area for myself.”
I trailed him back to his truck and leaned in for a hug and a quick I love you. “Tell Deena I’ll be back in time for my four o’clock appointment. I have to run an errand.”
Daddy didn’t comment, just turned, nodded his head, and reached for the ignition. Not waiting, I sprinted to my car and made haste to the cemetery. As suspected, I spotted Scarlett sitting on her marble headstone, humming a musical tune. Her eyes turned downright frosty when I plowed to a stop before her grave.
“Go away, Claiborne,” she growled. “You’re disturbing my downtime.”
“I only need a minute.”
“I don’t have a minute.”
“You have eternity,” I reasoned, then added in a feeble voice meant to foster her sympathy. “Please. I need your help. All I ask is one minute.”
“Excuse me.” She disappeared beneath the grass covering her grave for several seconds, then reappeared. “Still dry, and I’m aging quite nicely, I’m pleased to say.”
I shivered at the implication. “So this is why you visit every month? To check for leaks in your coffin?”
“If I don’t, who will?” She waved an impatient hand. “And now that that’s done, I’ll be movin’ on to my next assignment. I think I’m headed to the Austrian Alps to bring in a Norwegian stripper. Young and male, of course.”
I left that alone. No need to check for brains in an empty noggin. Instead, I made a gesture of defeat. “I guess Mama’s doomed to ride the old, black train. Promise me, Scarlett, you’ll keep an eye on her when she joins you on the Other Side.”
A string of colorful curses lit up the darkening sky, but her fading substance began taking on a more solid form. “Claiborne, you really burn my ass. I can’t interfere with fate. Neith
er can you. So give it up and accept that your momma is fixin’ to join the Hallelujah Choir. Bein’ dead ain’t so bad.”
I wrung my hands. “Just check for updates, Scarlett. See if anyone knows how she’s gonna be taken out. That’s all I ask. Please,” I added for extra measure.
She flashed a brilliant red. “Oh no. I’m not going near Hit Squad headquarters. If I’m caught, that’s a sure-fire way of me chopping off my own head.”
“You get caught?” I shook my head at her in feigned innocence. “You’re too smart for that.” I drove home my point. “Why I bet you’re the smartest dead person I know. This would be a snap for a PI like you.” I snapped my fingers for emphasis.
Scarlett’s immense Southern pride took the bait. “Yes,” she cooed. “I’m the best at what I do. And, I suppose I could slip in and out of there without anyone the wiser.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“I’ll consider it after I thoroughly scope out the risks.”
“There’s one more itsy bitsy teenie weenie little thing—”
“You have some nerve, Claiborne.” And with a flash of brilliant light, she was gone.
Chapter Five
Stand By Me
Scarlett woke me with dawn’s early light peeking through the windows. One minute I was resting peacefully in the placid morning quiet, and then I was wide awake with fireworks lighting up my bedroom like the Fourth of July. I fell out of bed at the first blast and landed on the floor with a definite thunk. Apparently, my cat, Tango, had sensed the coming apocalypse and had bugged out for his hideout. Through a curtain of tangled hair, I stared up at Scarlett’s wavering spirit hovering over the bed.
“I came as soon as I could get away, Jolene.” Her transparency began taking on a more solid form, and I could see she had exchanged her biker threads for a short, white toga costume—complete with gold belt, sandals, bracelets, and a necklace. A golden leaf crown encircled her lavishly styled bronze hair, much like the pictures I’d seen of the Roman Goddess, Venus.
I cocked a brow but made no comment about her weird apparel. “Give me a minute, Scarlett.” I pulled myself up from the floor, using the bed, and stumbled into the bathroom to splash water on my face and answer nature’s call. I emerged to see her posed dramatically over the unmade bed with a bunch of ripe, purple grapes in one hand from which she was plucking and then popping between her red-coated lips.
Since her antics had ceased to amaze me, I slipped on my robe and made my way to the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot and wait for her to join me.
My wait wasn’t long. When I turned around from taking a package of premade waffles from the freezer, she was transposed over the table playing with a small golden harp. That stopped me in my tracks.
“Nice harp,” I commented, setting the box of waffles on the counter next to the toaster. “I didn’t know you were musically inclined.”
“I’m not.” Her face crinkled in thought. “I picked it up as a means of stress relief. And I’m really stressed out at the moment.”
I pulled out butter and syrup from the refrigerator. “Oh yeah? What’s got you stirred up?”
A few notes twinkled from the harp. “You, what else? FYI, you’re my problem child.”
The look on her face made me want to laugh. “Mama says the same thing, Scarlett. I’m sorry to be the cause of so much stress this morning. Care to tell me why?” I placed cream and sugar on the table alongside the butter and syrup.
“I almost lost my wings last night,” was the answer.
“You don’t have wings.”
“And you’re the reason why I don’t.”
“I pretty sure I’m not responsible.” I plopped down at the table while I waited for the coffee to finish dripping. “I believe I’m going to need more in the way of an explanation. However, I prefer you sit at the table like a live person.”
She materialized into the chair across from me. “I managed to obtain the information you requested, Jolene. However, I didn’t come out unscathed. And neither did you. I received my last warning from the Boss, and you’ve been placed on the list of known habitual violators. Not good, Claiborne. Not good at all. You’re at risk of losing your eternal status in the Golden City.”
I waved an impatient hand. “Can’t worry about that now. Just give me the info on Mama.”
“She’s scheduled to arrive at the Pearly Gates on the seventeenth.”
“On Deena’s wedding day?” I smacked my hand on the table. “Mama’s being assassinated at Deena’s wedding? Good God Almighty! This can’t be happening.” I jumped up from my chair and began pacing across the polished hardwood floor.
“I never said that, Claiborne.”
“You said the seventeenth.” I fought a surge of anger. “Deena’s wedding day.”
“But I don’t have a time or place or method of extraction.”
I stopped pacing to glare at her. “Mama’s not a bad tooth, Scarlett.”
“Either you calm down, or I’m outta here. I shouldn’t be here anyway.”
“Wait, don’t go. I need the company.” I poured steaming coffee into a mug, wishing its heat could chase away the chill invading my bones and turned around to see her perched on the stovetop.
“I’ll stay only if you promise to talk about something other than your mother’s plight,” she twittered. “And don’t even think about asking for more help. I’m in enough trouble as it is.” A sly smile crossed her foxy face. “Let’s talk about you for a change. Tell me how your delicious detective and doable doctor are getting along. Last I heard they were hot on your trail, and you had a choice to make.”
The hot coffee tasted terrific, and I took a few more sips before answering. “The delectable detective made it for me. He left for Wyoming yesterday.”
“So it’s the doable doctor wearing your saddle?” She gave me a puzzled frown. “I’m surprised you settled for second best, Jolene. You’re not doctor's wife material at all. Too tame for your taste.”
I agreed. “Don’t plan on marrying the man. Just dusting off the sheets.”
Her smile twisted. “I miss that part of physical life the most. Get it while you can, Claiborne. That’s my motto. The best things in life are free and best enjoyed on your back.” Here she lifted a haughty brow. “Any regrets?”
“Lots.”
I suppose my face was grim because her voice softened when she spoke, “I hate to cut this short, Jolene, but I really should get back to Heaven. I’m on probation, and it wouldn’t do for Saint Peter to find out I’m here.”
I blinked back tears and set my mug on the table. “One question before you go. What can you tell me about Lilith, the wind spirit?”
She flashed a sickly neon green before settling into a ghostly shade of white. “Why are you asking?”
The fear in her eyes had my insides quivering. “She’s here in Whiskey Creek.”
“Good Lord, please tell me you’re not tangled up with that ancient spirit.”
“You’re afraid of her?”
“The Devil’s Mistress? You betcha I am. She’s trouble, Claiborne. Has been since the beginning. She rebelled against the Powers That Be and caused a huge stink. What’s she doing here, and how did you hear about her?”
“She invaded the facial room. Remember? It was you who first warned me.”
“What does she want?”
I pushed up from the table for a second cup of coffee. “You should know. She’s the Grim Reaper.”
“Wrong again.” She floated over to the counter. “This is bad, Jolene. Real bad. I need to report this to my boss right away. They’ll need to dispatch the heavy artillery ASAP. What else do you know about the Queen of Hell?”
“She’s disguised as a pretty redhead.” I popped in a couple of frozen waffles into the toaster. “She calls herself, Lilith Lacewell. She plans to open a beauty shop across the street from Dixieland Salon. Oh, and she wants my soul in exchange for Mama’s life.”
“I assume you accep
ted.”
Scarlett’s droll words weren’t amusing, but I smiled anyway. “I asked for more time to consider the proposition. However, I believe my time is just about up. I would appreciate some help if you’d dispatch a couple of big kick-ass angels as my bodyguards.”
“I warned you about the Dark Powers, Jolene. They’re bad. Really bad, and you’re just the kind of person they covet. Your continued defiance has captured their interest, and it may be too late. The Boss will know. See ya.”
With a flash she was gone, leaving me alone with my troubling thoughts but not despondent. Scarlett had given me a definite date of Mama’s departure, and I had eight days to figure out how to keep Mama out of Heaven’s clutches.
Eight days. Not a lot of time to stop destiny’s hand.
****
Saturdays are killers in my line of business, especially when every wasted second can make or break your bottom line for the week. And to my way of thinking, this early morning mission to pick up donuts for the staff meeting was costing me precious minutes which translated into dollar signs.
For the umpteenth time, I glanced down at my watch and heaved a dramatic sigh, my foot tapping out my impatience, earning me several disapproving looks from the other customers standing in line at the new grocery store.
Finally, after several more dramatic sighs, and stern glances from the waiting seniors, it was my turn at the counter. Hastily, I placed my order and tried to look tolerant as the young woman took her bloody time putting two dozen chocolate covered donuts in a bakery box and tying one of those itty bitty strings around it like they used to do when folks moved at a slower pace. I was just about to hurry her along with a few choice words when a slight pressure on my arm had me staring down at a blue-eyed, freckle-faced kid with curls the color of spring corn.
“Ma’am, could you please help me find my momma?” she asked in a surprisingly loud voice for one so young. Every head turned in our direction. Several eyebrows lifted expectantly for my answer.
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