Toe to Toe

by Deborah LeBlanc

  “I’m far from a preacher, and your sins are your own. I have enough shit on my plate to keep track of,” Jack said.

  Michael seemed to relax after Jack let out the expletive.

  “So who are you working with?” Peter asked.

  Jack hesitated, already knowing the three amigos were going to throw slur bombs his way.

  “Their names are Shaundelle Washington, Tatman Guilbeaux, Buggy Mouton, Nonie Broussard, and me, of course.”

  “What do they do for a living and what do you plan on having them work with during an investigation?” Warren asked.

  Jack drew in a deep, silent breath. “Shaundelle works for a beauty salon called Tint and Tips. She sidelines as a photographer for weddings and glamour shots. I’ve seen her work. She’s got a good eye. I’m giving her the night vision camera and the Mark III to work with.”

  “You’re going to let a beautician handle a thousand dollars’ worth of camera equipment?” Michael asked.

  Jack shot him a look. “She knows what she’s doing. I wouldn’t have assigned the task to her if she didn’t.”

  “What does she look like?” Warren asked.

  “What’s it matter?” Jack shot back.

  “Damn, don’t get your jocks in a twist. Just wondering was all. If we need a backup on the real shoot, I’m just wondering if any of them can make the cut. You know, fit in with the rest of the investigators.”

  “If you’re looking for tits and ass,” Jack said angrily, “you’ll need to find backup somewhere else. These people are serious about this scouting gig, not about showing off their bodies.”

  “So she’s ugly,” Michael said.

  “Shut up,” Warren told him. “We might be in a boardroom, but you never know who might be listening. You want to get sued?”

  “Pfft.” Michael eyed Jack again. “So what about the others?”

  “I’ve got Buggy, who works in a café and has a good ear for people, handling the recorders for EVPS, and Nonie, who works at her family’s funeral home, will be setting up the Rem Pods and keeping an eye on them.”

  Jack tucked his hands under the table so the men wouldn’t see that he’d rolled his hands into fists. “Tatman is going to help me set up the cameras in each hotspot, then wire them to the monitor in the command center. He’s worked for an electrician and a mechanic, so he knows wiring, and if some piece of mechanical equipment breaks down, I’d bet my balls on a block that Tatman can fix it.”

  “And you?” Michael asked.

  “I’ll be at the command center. From there I’ll be able to keep an eye on everyone and the equipment they’re responsible for.”

  “Smart move,” Peter said. “We don’t need anyone running off with any of that expensive equipment.”

  “They’re not thieves,” Jack snapped.

  “How do you know?” Warren asked. “Like you said earlier, you only met the entire team last night.”

  “I just know,” Jack said firmly. “They might be a little rough around the edges,”—Except for Nonie, he thought, and couldn’t help but let a picture of her long dark brown hair and soft blue eyes fill his mind. She had a smile that could light up any room and perfect, kissable lips, although he’d not had a chance to confirm that yet.—“but I trust them. It’s a gut feeling.”

  “A gut thing, huh?” Peter said.

  “Yes,” Jack said. He turned and scowled at Warren. “Look, the only thing the three of you have been doing since I’ve talked about this team is complain and question my decisions. If you’d prefer someone else take over the lead on this gig, fine. Go for it.”

  Warren glanced at Peter and Michael, then eyed Jack. “We’re not looking to replace you. We want results. We have every right to ask questions so we’ll have some idea of the percentage of and potential for success we’re looking at here.”

  “By my account,” Jack said, “if a place is haunted, we’ll get the evidence you need.”

  “But what if they try to fake out a job?” Michael asked. “I mean, if they’re not complaining about the money, five hundred for a positive location is a decent amount of money for those folks.”

  “No one will be faking anyone out,” Jack said loudly.

  “Jack . . .” Warren warned.

  “You forget that I’ve been a paranormal investigator for ten years,” Jack said to Michael. “I know fake from real and know all the tricks in the book. Nobody’s going to pull the sly on this gig. No strings pulling doors shut so it looks like they’ve closed on their own, no fishing wire opening and closing kitchen cabinets or knocking over bric-a-brac. It’ll be the real deal or nothing. And talking about nothing, the three of you need to realize something. Just because a location is supposed to be haunted doesn’t mean we’ll get evidence on the first night we go there. Sometimes a truly active location takes two to three visits before anything viable shows up. It’s not like spirits just show up on command. The same can happen during the scouting and filming of an episode. We can bring you evidence out the ass, then the paranormal investigation crew you’re using as your stars may go there and nothing happens at all.”

  “That’s shitty,” Michael said, frowning. “Does that happen often?”

  “More times than not, but not because one group is a scouting crew and the other crew is the one you’re filming. It just happens when it happens. It’s frustrating as hell, but it is what it is. You just need to know up front that that might be the case at times.”

  “Easy enough problem to solve,” Peter said. “If the real crew doesn’t pick up anything, I’ll simply edit in the real deal that the scouting crew came up with. Only it’ll look like our crew found it.”

  “Now that’s a shitty deal,” Jack said. “Your crew finds nothing and gets paid thousands and the scouting crew who did find evidence that you plan to use to cover a bald spot gets paid a measly five hundred bucks.”

  “What the hell else do you expect me to do?” Peter said loudly. “We’re already behind on schedule, and you throw that ball in my lap. Nobody’s going to know but me and the crap lying on the editing room floor.”

  “I’ll know,” Jack said. He looked at Michael, the man fronting the money for the show. “If we use the scouts’ findings, they get paid more and get credit on the end roll.”

  “Just how much more money are you talking about?” Michael asked.

  “At least double. I don’t think a grand a person’s going to break you, right?”

  Michael pursed his lips. He stared at Peter. “Are we that far behind schedule?”

  Peter nodded solemnly.

  Michael turned back to Jack. “Deal. But don’t make it too damn often, understand?”

  “I have no control over what spirits do,” Jack said. “But I will tell you this. The scouting crew we have is sharp, anxious to do a good job, and are serious about the gig.”

  “I'll tell you what,” Michael said, scratching his chin. “If they are as committed as you say they are, and we wind up having major issues with the real paranormal investigators I'll swap them out. I'll take the best of your crew and exchange them with the worst we’ve got in ours. I think that’s a fair deal, don’t you?”

  “Sounds okay,” Warren said. “But what if you do this exchange and the other members of the scouting group get jealous and quit? Then we’re back to square one.”

  “They’re not like that,” Jack insisted. “The others would be happy for the ones chosen.”

  “When it comes to money and kudos, kid, I know my stuff. If that scenario happens and the rest of them don’t quit, I’ll eat my left shoe.”

  “Uncle Warren,” Jack said. “With all due respect, you can be a big pain in the butt. Your last name should be Chainsaw not Chinsaw because you sure as hell know how to cut off a good thing, even if it’s in theory.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  The chapel had fallen into such a deep silence it might as well have been deserted. Nonie didn't know if it was because someone had said the word hell in front of the
pastor or if it had anything to do with the two women suddenly making their way down the center aisle. One of the women looked to be in her late fifties. She had platinum blond hair cut short with wispy bangs across her forehead, and her makeup, especially around her eyes, was exquisitely done, showing off blue-green eyes. She had a smile that would have caught anyone's attention, such bright, perfect teeth. She wore dangling sapphire earrings with small crosses that hung beneath the blue baubles. She wasn't dressed in traditional funeral black but wore a white linen pants suit with a cruise jacket that zipped up the front and was decorated with starburst rhinestones along the shoulder and collar.

  Following Ms. Rhinestone was a more homely woman, someone you wouldn’t have been surprised to see living in Clay Point, and when Nonie took a second glance at her, she realized she did live in Clay point. It was Clara Grubbs, a grocery clerk from Roy’s. Clara also had short platinum blonde hair, but it was cut in a bob. She wore a white, shift-style dress with floral print and had eyeglasses hanging from a silver chain around her neck. Her small eyes were brown and wide as she trailed after Ms. Rhinestone to the front of the chapel.

  “Who’s that?” Nonie whispered to Fezzo when he sidestepped the women, who were now three pews up from the casket.

  “Trouble,” he said. “Nuttin’ but trouble.”

  As the two women made their way closer to the casket, Fezzo caught up to Ms. Rhinestone and took her by the arm and tried to get her to turn around and walk to the back of the chapel. A wave of whispers suddenly filled the room, and many people were frowning, pointing and shaking their heads.

  About that time, Hazel had become so curious regarding the commotion that had broken the reverent silence, she stood up from her pew. She turned around at the same time Ms. Rhinestone struggled against Fezzo’s grasp, claiming that she had every right to see her Dover. That she needed to see him.

  “It’s not right that I don’t get a chance to see him,” she proclaimed.

  “You can’t,” Fezzo insisted. “De casket is closed.”

  “But I have to—”

  Hazel suddenly clasped her hands over her chest, like she was about to have a heart attack, and said to the woman in Fezzo’s grasp. “You bitch! I can't believe you came to this chapel on this most horrible day. You have some nerve coming here and making such a commotion!”

  “I'm not making the commotion, deary. You’re the one who seems to be getting a bit loud.”

  About this time, Margaret Simms hurried into the chapel. “Is there a problem, Mrs. Hazel, Ms. Anna Mae?”

  “Yeah,” Hazel said, “But it’s none of your business. So, if I were you, I’d go back to your little desk up front.”

  With a scowl and a harrumph, Margaret turned on her heels and marched out of the room.

  Hazel shot Ms. Rhinestone, Anna Mae, a look that could’ve killed. “Don’t you dare call me deary, Anna Mae Turner. You have no business being here, and neither does your cousin, Clara.” She glanced over at the woman who’d been shadowing Anna Mae. “Clara, I'm sorry. You’re always nice to me in church on Sundays, but your cousin here needs to burn in the pit of hell for showing up in front of all of these people. Dover was my husband,” Hazel proclaimed, turning back to Anna Mae. “Till death do us part.”

  “Well, he may have been your husband by law, but he claimed that he was mine for many years before he died,” Anna Mae said. “This whole town knew it. Even you knew it, Hazel. You just chose to ignore it. Kept him out of your way. So now you’ve got what you wanted. He’s dead, out of your way. So there’s no reason why I can’t come and see my Dover in his coffin.”

  “The coffin’s closed,” T-boy said, having joined Fezzo in his attempt to calm the women down.

  “Can’t you open it just a little?” Anna Mae whined. “So I can see him one last time?”

  “That casket will not be opened,” Hazel declared. “He . . . his face . . . It will not be opened.” She put the corner of a tissue to her right eye where a real tear appeared.

  “But I haven't seen Dover in at least two weeks. I need to see his face just one more time.”

  “If you don’t quit your goddamn whining and get out of here, you hussy,” Hazel snarled. “I’m going to make sure you don’t see anything out of either of your eyes for a hell of a long time.”

  “Ladies, please,” the pastor said. “We’re in the house of God. This may be a funeral home, but it's a chapel nonetheless.”

  “I don't give a damn whose house is it,” Hazel said. “That hag is going to get outta here.”

  T-boy leaned over, said something to the pastor, and the pastor nodded and sidestepped away from the casket then around the room towards the exit. With a simple hand gesture, T-boy signaled Fezzo to make sure the pastor got out without any issues.

  Clarence and Stefren, as if just waking from a deep sleep, finally stood up near their mother.

  “What’s the problem?” Clarence asked.

  Hazel pointed to Anna Mae. “That . . . That thing came here to see your father.”

  “And that pisses you off, why?” Stefren asked.

  “Yeah,” Clarence said. “There are tons of visitors here. Why does her being here have you so angry?”

  Hazel looked at her sons like they suddenly had brain fluid leaking out of their ears. “Where

  have you two been? Don’t you know? That hussy has been sleeping with your father for probably eight years now.”

  “Nine,” Anna Mae said. “We were close to our ninth anniversary.”

  Clarence plopped back down on the pew and Stefren said, “Well, I’ll be a sonofabitch.”

  Suddenly, Hazel wheeled about and slapped Stefren in the face. “Every time you say that word, you’re saying I’m a bitch. So shut up and sit down and be quiet like your brother. I don’t need either of you in my business right now. This is between me and Anna Mae.”

  Loud mumbling came from the crowd standing against the walls and filling the pews. Nonie stood on tiptoe, spotted Sheriff Buchanan in the crowd then signaled to her dad. She mouthed, “Do you want him to get involved?”

  T-boy shook his head, probably feeling confident in his ability to stop these women from making it a full-blown WWE event. Nonie cautiously made her way to the fifth row of pews and stood at the end, watching the women like she was watching a tennis match, looking from Hazel to Anna Mae.

  The women inched closer to each other, and Nonie suddenly realized her mistake. If slaps and swings were going to start flying, she’d be right in the middle of the fight. She felt in the pit of her gut that if she didn’t get out of the way and fast, she’d wind up with a wayward punch or slap across her own face.

  “You could at least have shown some respect and stayed away from here, no matter what you’d been doing with my husband,” Hazel said, nostrils flaring. “But, no, you’ve got to come out here and show your behind. What you’ve done is going to send you to the pits of hell, Anna Mae Turner. Not only for what you’ve done with my Dover, but for showing up here and disrespecting him and our family. Embarrassing me in front of the whole community. We didn’t need or want your ugly face here! Nobody likes you, don’t you get it? Nobody wants you here.”

  “How can you say nobody wants me here? Not everyone in town knows me. Only those who’ve seen me with Dover. Nobody really knows me.”

  Anna Mae suddenly turned to Butchy Thibodeaux, who just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time. “Do you know me?” she asked Butchy.

  With his pudgy cheeks turning crimson, Butchy shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

  “See what I'm saying” Anna Mae said. “Not everyone knows me, but they know you. That big mouth of yours and the way you strut your stuff all over town. Just because you were married to the mayor you thought you were all that. But the truth is you’re really nothing, Hazel, but a worn-out old woman with a horrid complexion. Dover stayed with you during the day and left you at night. He came to meet me so he could get what he needed. Not just sex, but comp
assion and understanding. I was the woman he really wanted. Being a mayor, he couldn't cause a stink by divorcing you, not with a new campaign for mayor about to begin. He didn’t want to look bad in the eyes of his people, the hearts of his sons and the minds of his constituents. That wasn’t his style, but you wouldn't know that. Just how many conversations did you have with Dover other than, ‘Hello,’ and ‘How was your day?’”

  Hazel suddenly let out one huge growl and took off in a flat-footed run straight for Anna Mae.

  Anna Mae dropped the purse she’d been carrying in the crook of her arm, lowered her head and held out both hands now curled into fists, waiting for Hazel to get to her. Before T-boy or Fezzo or even Sheriff Buchanan could reach the women, they latched onto each other and started swinging with full fists to the gut, slaps to the face, hair pulled until strands were yanked out by the handful. So much pushing and shoving. All of the flowers Nonie had so neatly set around the casket bier and along the walls were tossed over, stomped on, leaves and petals showering the floor.

  “You witch,” Hazel said between slaps. “You leave my husband alone.”

  “You leave my Dover alone,” Anna Mae yelled. “He didn't deserve to be married to somebody like you. He needed a real woman.”

  No sooner had Anna Mae uttered those words than Hazel got one good solid punch to Anna Mae’s gut, knocking the wind out of her and dropping her to her knees.

  About this time, Nonie spotted her mother near the entrance to the chapel. One second she was there, mouth agape, and the next second she was on the floor, having dropped into a dead faint. T-boy hurried over to his wife as quickly as he could to get her out of the way of a sudden stampede.

  By this time, people began to shuffle out of the chapel, not wanting to get involved in the brawl. People were stumbling over chairs, knocking into other people, everyone scattering to get out of the way.

  In the background, Nonie heard a loud, familiar laugh. She glanced in the direction it came from and saw Guy standing not far from Shaundelle. He’d obviously been eavesdropping on Shaundelle and Tatman’s conversations. Now he was watching the show between Hazel and Anna Mae and evidently thought it to be the funniest thing he’d ever seen. As if by radar, Guy suddenly caught Nonie watching him. She scowled, held a finger to her lips, indicating for him to shut up even though she was the only one who could hear him. This was a somber catastrophe. Not a laughing matter.