Uncharted Territory (An Angela Panther Mystery Book 3)

by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

  "Tupac, like t-e-w and p-a-c-k."

  "That ain't no name."

  "Yet people everywhere are called Shoe Pack?"

  "At least they're real words."

  "I told Aaron about Tiffany."

  "Did ya tell him about you and Mel barfing your brains out?"

  "I did."

  "Bet that went over well, huh?"

  "Not so much, no. I told him I wanted to go to the Peachtree Crossings police but he doesn't think that's a good idea. I guess being a medium isn't well received by the general law enforcement community just yet."

  "Because they're a bunch a twits. They'd solve a lot more crimes with someone like you helpin' out. Don't know why they don't just do it."

  "Probably because a lot of people like me are liars."

  "I didn't raise my daughter to be no liar. You want, I'll go and fix that. I'll make them listen."

  I didn't doubt that one bit. "I appreciate that but it's probably not a good idea." I bit my lip. "But I do have something you can do, that is if you don't have bowling plans or something."

  "It just so happens my social calendar has an opening, so whatcha need? You want me to go and toss a few pillows at Nick? That cheater deserves a good scare."

  "I think it's best we leave Nick alone for now. Mel's finally at a place where she doesn't want to go and beat the living daylights outta him and I don't want to refuel that fire. But I was thinkin' maybe you could spend a little time with Emily's boyfriend. You know, make sure he's on the up and up. You up for it?"

  "I already told you he's a cutie, what else do you want?"

  "Emily seems to really like him and I guess I wanna make sure they're on the same page. She and Josh are at a movie now so maybe you could just pop in on him and make sure he's behaving in a manner appropriate to dating my daughter."

  "So you want me to check and see if he's boinkin' some college bimbo?"

  "Exactly."

  "I'm on it," she said, and shimmered away.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  EMILY JIGGLED MY SHOULDER. "Mom? You awake?"

  I wasn't. "Hey, what's wrong?" I was still in the chair on the deck.

  "You okay, Mama?" Josh asked.

  I stretched my arms out above my head, and yawned. "Yeah, I'm good. Musta fallen asleep. What time is it?"

  "After eleven," Emily said. "How long've you been out here?"

  "A few hours. I didn't realize it was so late." I got up and headed inside, the kids and Gracie following. "Josh, you need to get to bed. Em, what time do you work tomorrow?"

  "I don't. Mike's coming by at like, ten to pick me up. We're going tubing at the lake."

  I was too tired to remind her that she was supposed to ask first before making plans. "Sounds like fun."

  "You can like, meet him when he gets here."

  "That'll be great." I hugged both kids. "I'm going to bed."

  "Night," Josh said, walking up the stairs ahead of me.

  "I'm gonna watch TV," Emily said.

  "Don't stay up too late."

  "I won't."

  I brushed my teeth and washed my face, then peeked into Josh's room to say good night.

  "An old lady came up to me at the movies tonight," he said.

  "Old ladies like movies too."

  "She didn't come to see the movie. She came to see me."

  "Oh, that kind of woman."

  "Yup, the dead kind. She said you were supposed to see her daughter tonight."

  "She did?"

  "Yeah and she said you gotta see her as soon as you can because of her condition."

  "Did she say anything else?"

  "Nope."

  "Okay, thanks for letting me know."

  "That's how I roll."

  "I'm glad." I kissed him on the forehead. "You make me proud, you know?"

  "Yeah, I know. I'm amazing like that."

  I rolled my eyes. "So you tell me."

  "Love you, Mama."

  My heart swelled. "Love you too."

  I got comfy in bed and sent Mel a text. "Not sure you're gonna be going out with Aaron after all. Appears he's not into projectilers."

  "You didn't," she replied.

  "I did."

  "I hate you."

  "Liar. Besides, he's too focused on the fact that we trespassed that you being Pukey Pukemeister wasn't even a bleep on his radar."

  "One can hope. But I've got back-up anyway, just in case your hottie detective gets cold feet."

  "Awesome."

  "Totally. In fact I was just debating giving my number to Mr. Squirrelly Tail. He's asked for it four times already."

  "Mr. Squirrelly Tail?"

  "Classy, ain't it?"

  "You don't give these guys your number do you?"

  "Hell no. Too many crazies in the world for that."

  "You're a lot smarter than you look."

  "It's a gift."

  "I think I know where Tiffany is."

  My phone rang. "Where?" Mel asked when I answered.

  "With Caroline."

  "We already knew that."

  "I know but we weren't sure if Caroline was alive or dead and now we are."

  "We are? Which is it?"

  "She's dead."

  "How do you know?"

  I laid out my theory, referring to my notes to make sure I didn't miss anything.

  "So what happens now?"

  "I hate to say this but I think the only way we're gonna get any info on Caroline is from Tiffany's parents. So I guess we make another trip to their house tomorrow."

  "We're not gonna tell them we barfed all over their bathroom are we?"

  "Hell no."

  "Then I'm in."

  ***

  I awoke to the sound of the vacuum roaring from the family room. Since my children vehemently opposed anything related to house cleaning, I figured the universe had granted me a miracle in the form of a house cleaner. A quick glance at the clock—it was six in the morning—and my miracle theory was shot to hell.

  I stumbled out of bed and landed right on Gracie's tail. "Oh sorry baby." She glanced up at me with her sad doggie eyes and I kissed her nose.

  We thumped down the stairs together and watched Emily push the vacuum in a straight line across the family room floor. I jumped in front of her, hands on my hips. I signaled for her to shut it off. "All right, spill it? What'd you do?"

  "Nothing, why?"

  "You're cleaning. What'd you do, wreck your car?" My stomach flipped. "Oh crap. You didn't, did you?"

  "You're funny. Mike's coming over, remember?"

  "And?"

  "Like you say, it ain't gonna clean itself."

  "Well look at you, taking the bull by the horns." I patted my heart. "It makes me proud."

  I ran my finger across the coffee table and showed her the dust on my fingertip. "I hear boyfriends like a dust free home, too."

  "I'm like, planning to do that, too. But like, I'm not picking up Josh's crap in the den. Have you been in there? He's got like, seven glasses, and a bunch of garbage like, all over the place. Does he like, eat anything that doesn't come out of a package?"

  I walked into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. "Watch it, you're beginning to sound a lot like your mother."

  "When I have kids, they're like, gonna be all girls. They're like, so much easier than boys."

  I swallowed back a laugh, letting her live in that fantasy world as long as possible. "What time is he coming by again?"

  "Ten."

  "Okay."

  "Like, don't show him Dad's gun collection or anything."

  "I'll leave that to your father. He loves that crap." I waited for the pot to make enough coffee to fill a cup. "Going to take a shower now," I told Emily. "Try not to wake your brother."

  "I'm gonna vacuum like, right outside his door."

  "All righty then. I'll ignore the fight when it starts."

  ***

  My mother and Tevin were chatting in my room. Ma pointed at my white cargo shorts and
tank top lying across the trunk near my bed and laughed. "She thinks her husband gets turned on by this stuff, she's whack. Don't no homie like dat sheet."

  Tevin saw me give her the evil eye and zipped his lips.

  "Seriously?" I grabbed the clothes and stuffed them into my trunk. "Why are you here?" I eyed Tevin. "Remember our talk about boundaries?"

  "Well, go ahead, Tevin. She ain't gonna bite," Ma said. "At least I don't think so."

  "My favorite book is To Kill a Mockingbird," he said.

  "And I need to know this why?" I asked.

  "Have you read it?"

  I shook my head.

  "What I particularly love about the book is the representation of racism and poverty at an incredibly important time, historically speaking, that is. I especially enjoyed the flavor and language of the writer, Harper Lee. Why others my age cannot appreciate the story is beyond me because truly, it's a classic of epic proportion."

  "I don't get it. What's To Kill a Mockingbird have to do with the price of tea in China?"

  "To Kill a Mockingbird has nothing to do with the price of tea in China, Ms. Panther. It's just an excellent book and one that is important to the history of our country and my history in particular."

  Ma giggled. "I think he's tryin' to tell us he got his memory back."

  "Well I'll be damned. I think you're right."

  Tevin pushed back his shoulders and lifted his chin. "It's coming back in bits and pieces but I'm confident it will all return sooner rather than later."

  No fourteen-year-old kid I'd ever met talked like that.

  "I'm not exactly clear on what happened the night I passed, however, I do remember that DeShawn, or Bach as his friends call him, was involved and contrary to what he's telling his friends, it had nothing to do with a girl." He shook his head. "I'm not quite sure why he would think I took his girlfriend from him."

  My mouth hung open like a teenage boy seeing a naked woman for the first time.

  Ma high-fived him and their hands went right through the other’s.

  "Tevin, this is awesome. Do you remember your mother and your little sisters?"

  He nodded. "I would like to see them but feel it's best to wait until we have more information about my death. I don't want to upset my mother unduly at this time."

  "Wow, I can understand everything you're saying."

  "Yah, you don't sound like a thug no more," Ma said.

  "And my mother speaks so eloquently."

  She stuck her tongue out at me. "Got that right."

  "So what happened?" I asked him. "How'd you get your memory back?"

  "As you requested, I kept an eye on DeShawn last night. He continued to express his dislike for me and brag about his involvement in my death. At some point it all just clicked and I remembered."

  "I'm so glad, Tevin. So he didn't leave like you thought, right? Do you know where he is now? We need to tell Aaron what he said."

  "No, ma'am he did not. He's at his brother's apartment. They're planning to vandalize a place of business tonight. I don't think he's planning to leave anymore. As I said, I don't quite have all of the details surrounding my death, and DeShawn has issues with honesty so I'd like to see what else I can learn and then approach the detective with something verifiable. I do feel it's important to inform the detective about his plans for this evening, however."

  I grabbed a notepad from my nightstand. "Details, please."

  He filled me in. "I'll continue to keep my eye on him and let you know if anything happens," he said and then shimmered away.

  I was speechless.

  "Holy moly," Ma said. "It's like talking to a whole new spirit."

  "That kid talks better than most adults I know."

  "He sure does. He's one smart cookie, ain't he?"

  "Un-freaking-believable."

  "I kinda like the gang slang better. It's hip and cool, like me."

  "Yeah, you're the cat's meow when it comes to cool and hip." I pulled the clothes out of the trunk and waved them in her face. "I gotta get ready to meet Emily's boyfriend and then I'm heading back to the Starks with Mel."

  "You oughta bring a barf bag just in case."

  "We're not going inside again."

  "I'm just sayin'."

  I stepped out of my pajama bottoms and turned on the shower. "Do you know where the angel statue is?"

  She inspected my carpet.

  "Listen Ma, it'll save me a lot of time and energy if you'd just tell me where it is, okay?"

  "Ah Madone, I don't know."

  "You promise?"

  "I'd cross my heart and hope to die but that'd be a waste of time."

  Now that was funny. "You wanna tag along?"

  "You betcha."

  "So did you get a chance to visit Emily's boyfriend?"

  "Yup."

  "Well?"

  "Somethin' ain't right about that boy."

  "Spill it."

  "You shoulda seen his dorm room. It's clean. And I don't mean clean like you used to clean at that age, pushin' all your stuff under the bed or in the closet. I mean clean. His clothes are folded and put in the drawers. He's got a shoe rack on the floor in his closet and there's shoes on it, too. His desk has little piles of papers stacked one on top of the other in a criss-cross pattern. And his bed's made. Oh, and he's got throw pillows on it. I think he's a closet homo or somethin'."

  "Oh for cryin' out loud, why? Because he's got throw pillows on his bed?"

  "What heterosexual boy do you know with throw pillows on his bed?"

  "I don't really go into a lot of boys' bedrooms, Ma."

  "Not anymore at least."

  "Har dee har har."

  "Yah, don't you think that's a little wonky for a teenage boy? No normal boy keeps their room clean like that."

  "Except for your favorite child, Paul. So he's a closet homo, too?" I should have given her a hard time about her politically incorrect comment, but then I couldn't reference Paul as a closet homo and get her undies all up in a bunch about it. Figuratively speaking, of course.

  "Your brother Paul was a good boy. He kept his room clean like that because I taught him right. And he's married, so he likes girls." She pushed her chin up with a take that kind of attitude.

  "Interesting because according to you I was a slob. I guess you taught me wrong then?"

  "I taught you right, you just didn't listen."

  "Uh huh. That's it. If Emily's boyfriend is a neat freak and that's the worst thing you noticed, then I'm not all that worried."

  "I'm just sayin'."

  "Okay, well I appreciate you visiting with him for me, but I really gotta get ready now."

  "I wasn't visiting him, I was spyin' on him, like you asked."

  "You say tomato…"

  She stuck her tongue out at me and shimmered away.

  "Love you too, Ma."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  "MOM," EMILY YELLED UP THE STAIRS. "Mike's here. Can you come down?"

  "Be right there." I turned off my hair straightener, did a quick make-up check in my magnifying mirror, and switched off the light as I left the room.

  Emily and Mike were sitting at the counter in the kitchen. "Mom, this is Mike. Mike, this is my mom, Angela."

  Angela?

  Mike stood and walked over to me, his hand extended. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Panther."

  His grip was firm, which was good. I hated when men offered limp hands. It made me wonder if other body parts had a similar problem. And he got a point for calling me Mrs. Panther, too. "Nice to meet you too, Mike."

  Mike was cute. No visible tattoos and short brown hair parted on the side. Dressed in a red polo, heavily starched khaki shorts, and shoes that resembled the Topsiders I wore in the eighties, he was the polar opposite of Chandler. I wanted to jump up and down and scream yippee, this guy isn't a loser, but looks could be deceiving, so I reserved judgment. "So you're going to the lake?"

  "Yes, ma'am. My buddy's family has a boat and we're going to tube a
nd ski."

  "Sounds like fun. Just be careful. Lake Lanier is pretty crowded."

  "Like, I'm sure we'll be fine, Mom," Emily said.

  "I grew up on the lake, ma'am, so I've got a pretty good handle on being in the water but I'll keep an extra eye on Emily, of course."

  She rolled her eyes behind him. I refrained from smacking her on the arm and telling her that was rude.

  "Thanks, Mike. I appreciate that. Certainly don't want my girl getting hurt." I wasn't just talking about the lake.

  "All righty then," Emily said. "We like, gotta go." She grabbed her bag from the counter. "I probably won't be home until like, curfew, but I've got my cell."

  "It was nice meeting you, Mike."

  "Nice meeting you too, Mrs. Panther."

  They walked over to the garage door, but before they walked out, I remembered my conversation with Jake. "Oh, Emily, your dad and I were talking about having Mike over for dinner soon. Maybe in a few days, if that works?"

  "That would be great. Just let me know when," he said.

  "Sounds good. I'll figure it out and Emily can let you know."

  "Bye, Mom." She high-tailed it out the door.

  "Yah, I guess you're right. He's not a bad kid," Ma said, popping in near the door. "Besides, I've been with them a few times, and he's a real gentleman with her."

  "You were already spying on him and didn't tell me?"

  "It ain't spying."

  "Funny, that sounds familiar."

  "It's different when I do it on my own than when you ask."

  "Different how?"

  "I'm doin' it as a dead grandma visiting her granddaughter. You want it so you can keep tabs on her."

  "Uh huh." I busied myself while we talked. "But he does seem like a nice guy, doesn't he?"

  "'Yup. 'Course everyone thought Ted Bundy was a nice guy, too."

  "Thanks for that reminder."

  "You betcha," she said, and then shimmered away again.

  "Way to leave on a high note!"

  ***

  Before picking up Mel, I made my semi-regular run to Starbucks for scones and lattes. I took a bite of a scone but couldn't eat it, so I spit it out into a napkin. The puke fest from the day before had likely killed my love for the petite vanilla scone. I was not pleased.

  "Hey," Mel said, climbing in next to me. She opened the little pink bag of scones. "Holy crap, there's five scones in here. Whoda thunk?"