“Yeah,” Jack said, then gave all of them a quick glance. “Just remember that we don’t get paid unless we’re able to bring back evidence. So sometimes things may get a little spooky, but we’ve got to get that on film, audio, doesn’t matter. Dangerous is different. No amount of money is worth getting hurt over.”
They rode in silence until Jack pulled into Tatman’s driveway and stopped the van. “I’ll be going over all of the recordings we did tonight to see if we got any class A EVPs and also all the camera work. See if we might have picked up more than we actually saw. Then I’ll bring everything over to the producer.”
“When’ll we get our money?” Shaundelle asked.
“I’ll push for tomorrow,” Jack said. “The next day at the latest.”
Evidently satisfied with Jack’s answer, Tatman grinned and opened the front passenger door. “Can’t wait. Hey, y’all don’t have to stay cramped up back there,” he said to Shaundelle, Nonie, and Buggy. “Somebody can ride shotgun.”
“That’d be me,” Shaundelle said. “Since I’m the next drop-off.”
Once Shaundelle moved from the back of the van to the front seat and everyone had bid Tatman good night, Jack took off once more. He only had three more stops to make, only he wanted to make sure Nonie’s was the last one. He wanted a chance to talk to her alone.
By the time he dropped Shaundelle and Buggy off at their respective houses, and he’d coaxed Nonie into the front passenger seat, she let out an expansive yawn.
“Sorry,” Nonie said, glancing at the clock illuminated on the van’s dash. It was three minutes to one in the morning.
“Long night, I know,” Jack said. “That’s one of the challenges with investigating. Sometimes you have to wait for hours before anything makes itself known. Luckily that wasn’t the case tonight.”
Nonie nodded, offered him a small smile, then glanced over the seat toward the back of the van.
“Is something bothering you?” Jack asked. “You were pretty quiet on the ride back here. Even now you seem a little . . . I don’t know . . . jumpy maybe?”
“No,” Nonie said a bit too cheerfully. “Guess it’s just from being tired. Had a big funeral before we went out tonight. Still haven’t regrouped from that yet.”
They rode in silence for a minute or two before Jack worked up the nerve to say, “Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”
He chanced a glance in her direction and caught her staring at him. Even in the dark, it was easy to make out her small nose, her full, beautiful lips and eyes that could send any man to his knees. Her expression was one of genuine curiosity but the way she lowered her eyes when he looked directly at her tattled on her nervousness.
“I guess not,” she said hesitantly.
By this time Jack had already made it to Nonie’s duplex. He stopped the van near her side of the building, behind her Acura, killed the engine and turned in his seat to face her.
She looked down at her hands which were fidgeting in her lap.
Jack stared at her for a moment, unsure of how to phrase either question, which felt odd to him. He knew himself to be a straightforward kind of guy. If something needed to be said or done, he was the man for the job. Right now, though, wasn’t about what he could or couldn’t do. He saw Nonie as a slightly wary fawn, one who might bolt at any moment, and he didn’t want that to happen.
Jack cleared his throat. “Tonight . . . Well, tonight there were a couple of times I could have sworn that I heard you talking to someone other than Buggy. I say that because you’d ask a question or make a comment and Buggy wouldn’t answer. At least I didn’t hear her answer. Now that everybody’s gone, and it’s just the two of us, I have to ask . . . Do you see spirits, Nonie?”
She looked up at him sharply, then just as quickly turned her head so she stared out of the windshield. The fawn was about to bolt.
Jack reached out and put a hand on her arm. “I’m not trying to be nosy or have you talk about something you’d prefer to keep to yourself. I mean, if you could see them, spirits I mean, I can easily understand why you wouldn’t want anyone to know. I probably wouldn’t admit it to anyone either. I’d be concerned people would think me crazy or worse.”
“What’s worse than people thinking you’ve got moths in your pantry?” Nonie asked.
“Moths?”
Nonie twirled a finger near her right temple. “Bats in the belfry, screws missing from the toolbox, a shank short of a full cow. You know.”
“Yeah, right . . . crazy. Worse, to me anyway, would be people always after you, wanting to know if you see their dead father or mother, sister or aunt. Never giving you a moment’s peace.”
Nonie nodded. “Yeah, I can see that being a problem.”
He cocked his head to follow her gaze. “Look, I’m really not asking simply to get tangled into your personal business. The reason I started doing paranormal investigations was to answer questions for myself. Questions about the afterlife. Like was there an afterlife. Over the years, I’ve seen and heard things I can’t explain, but nothing that ever gave me a concrete answer to that question.”
“So you think if I see or hear the dead, you’d get that answer from me,” Nonie said matter-of-factly.
Her words caused Jack to sit back in his seat. The way she put it made him feel like he was using her, and that’s the last thing he’d ever want her to think.
Seeing her staring out the windshield again, Jack gently cupped her chin with a hand and turned her head so she’d look at him. He saw worry in her eyes.
“It’s okay,” Jack said releasing her chin. “Forget I asked, okay?”
Nonie looked at him for a long moment then nodded ever so slightly. She turned as if to grasp the door of the passenger door, then turned back to him. “You said you had two questions for me. What’s the second?”
Jack grinned, happy that she remembered. “The second question should have been the first if I hadn’t been so crass and nosy.”
“You weren’t crass,” she assured him. “I think curious is a better word for it. Nosy, yes.”
He smiled.
“Well? The question?”
Jack drummed his thumbs softly on the steering wheel. “Would you . . .I mean, could I take you out to dinner sometime?” Even at thirty-seven-years-old, awaiting her answer made Jack feel like a schoolboy who’d just asked the most popular girl in class to the prom.
Nonie glanced nervously toward the back of the van, as if double-checking to make sure no one was seated behind them. She looked back at him. “I-I’d love to,” she said quietly, then opened the van door and scrambled out. As she closed the door, she gave him a soft smile then hurried off to the duplex’s porch.
Jack waited until she was safely inside before starting up the van. He inched his way around her Acura, all the while considering the wonders and mystery that made up Nonie Broussard. It was more than her beauty, her quick wit and intelligence. There was a shyness about her, but not to such a degree that it kept her from saying what was on her mind. Nonie reminded him of an exquisite piece of art that had been cut into puzzle pieces. As one got to know her, you got the gist of the picture, but you longed for more pieces to be put into place so the work of art would be made whole. He suspected Nonie purposely hid some of the puzzle pieces, like the fact that she was a medium, in order to protect herself. He’d bet his life on that, but he could also appreciate her desire to hold that piece of her close to the vest. It didn’t take a brainiac to figure out the challenges that might present in her life if that information went public. Despite what secrets Nonie held close, Jack wanted to uncover each one. He wanted to understand her. Protect her. Be with her. And, as far as he was concerned, whatever it took, he planned to do just that.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Nonie closed the door to her apartment and leaned against it with her eyes closed for a moment. She could still feel the smile on her face. Jack had asked her out to dinner. Asked her out on a date. And she’d said yes.
Oh, God . . . She’d said yes!
Nonie’s eyes flew open. She expected to see Guy standing inches in front of her, demanding to know what this date thing was all about. Instead, all she saw was her couch, television, over-stuffed chair—everything normal and in its place. Except for Guy. The last place she’d seen him was at the plantation with Tiana. Nothing after that. Something was off. If anything, staying true to form, Guy would have been standing in front of her blabbering, “I told you so, I told you so,” referring to his warning to her about ghost hunting. Tiana had done her best to give everyone a good scare.
Wondering where Guy might have gone off to, but glad he wasn’t around to bust her hump, Nonie felt her shoulders finally relax. It was nearly 2 a.m., and she desperately needed a shower and sleep.
Just as she pushed away from her front door and turned to lock it, Nonie heard a loud crash come from the kitchen. The crash was quickly followed by pinging and clanging, rustling noises and more crashes, like dishes being smashed against the kitchen wall. She hurried to the kitchen to see what was causing the ruckus and pulled up short when she caught sight of her trash can sailing over the snack bar. Old newspapers, junk mail, an old bologna package and an empty milk carton scattered throughout her living room. From across the snack bar she saw her refrigerator door open and an egg carton come sliding out as smoothly as a skater on ice. She watched as the carton opened, then an egg came floating out of the carton, hovered for a second or two, then went flying towards her stove and smashed against the wall behind it.
Another egg pelted the snack bar, then another, both spreading into a lake of yellow goo. Thankfully there was only one left, but it was one too many for the last one took out her coffeepot.
For a while, all Nonie could do was stand like an openmouthed mannequin and watch the disaster unfold before her. As her coffeepot tipped over and rolled off the kitchen counter and onto the floor with a loud PING! Fury suddenly sparked her into action. She planted two fists on her hips and shouted, “Guy Philip Skinard, stop that this instant!”
The egg carton dropped to the floor with a plop.
“Where the hell are you?” Nonie said, fuming.
Like a mirage in an overheated desert, Guy suddenly wavered into view. Smokey, silhouette at first, then he solidified. He wore the same clothes he always wore, only his hair was wildly mussed, and his nostrils flared with anger.
Nonie marched over to the snack bar and faced him. “What the hell is your problem?”
“You!”
“Me?” Nonie spread her arms out indicating the mess he’d just created. “What’s with all this? When did that start? I thought you couldn’t pick up material things.”
“Surprise, surprise,” Guy said and lifted his chin.
“Quit being a smart-ass.”
Guy gave her a nonchalant look, then yawned as if discussing the matter bored him. “I’ve been able to manipulate matter for about a week now. Been practicing.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He scowled. “I tried. Remember the other day when you were setting flowers up in the viewing room and I told you I had a present for you?”
Nonie chewed on her bottom lip vaguely remembering him telling her. “Yeah, okay, so?”
“That was my present.”
“And you show me by trashing my apartment? If you can throw it out there you sure as hell better be able to straighten it back up,” Nonie declared.
“Don’t get all self-righteous on me, Nonie Marie. You’re the one responsible for the mess.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You told that investigator dude that you’d have dinner with him, didn’t you?”
Nonie felt her shoulders slump. She hadn’t seen Guy in or around the van the entire time she’d sat alone in there with Jack. How did Guy know? Even when he didn’t materialize, she’d always felt him around before. Had he been in the van, anywhere within earshot, she’d have known it.
“Didn’t you?” he prompted again.
Nonie glared at him. “So what if I did. It’s not like you and I can walk into Landry’s Steak House and order dinner. And how did you get that bit of information anyway? Where were you hiding?”
Guy smirked. “In plain sight.”
Nonie blew a stray hair away from her face and scowled. “Where in plain sight? I didn’t see you anywhere. I didn’t even feel you lurking around the way you do when you go all invisible on me.”
“Doesn’t matter where I was. All that matters is that I heard the two of you.”
“That’s eavesdropping,”
“So.”
“That—that’s just wrong,” Nonie said and bent over to pick up a piece of old newspaper that had been dumped out with the rest of her trash. When she straightened up, Guy was in the living room, standing about ten feet away from her.
“Tell me you won’t go out to dinner with that man,” Guy said.
Nonie felt a twinge of guilt pinch her heart, but she lifted her chin defiantly. “Look, I have to eat anyway, right? What does it matter if I have something to eat with Jack? He’s just a guy—Guy.”
Guy’s eyebrows knitted together. “Aw, come on, I know you’re not that blind, Nonie. Jack Sprat wants to share a hell of a lot more with you than a meal, and you know it!”
Nonie cocked her head to one side. “Don’t even think about getting loud with me, mister man.”
“I don’t want you going out with him,” Guy shouted. Before Nonie knew it, he was standing right beside her and shouted into her right ear. “Don’t do it!”
“Now that’s about the saddest thing I’ve ever seen,” a woman’s voice said from behind Nonie, causing her to whirl about.
On Nonie’s couch sat Helen Richardson. She wore a pink housedress with slippers to match, and her hair was a cap of white, tightly permed curls. She looked exactly as she did when Nonie had first seen her upstairs at the Richardson house, along with her gun-toting mascot, Captain. The only difference between then and now was that Nonie could see through Helen. She wasn’t as solid as she’d been during their first encounter.
“M-Ms. Helen?” Nonie leaned forward and squinted, making sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. Unfortunately, they weren’t.
“Yes?” Helen said, then smiled sweetly.
Nonie licked her bottom lip. She suddenly felt dehydrated. “W-why . . . what—what are you doing here?”
Helen patted her hair with a hand. “Because, dear, like I told you back at the house, I want to be on television. I figured it would be best if I came here to make sure you wouldn’t forget about me.” She tugged her housedress primly over her knees. “You know, back in the day, I was known as a go-getter. I wasn’t the kind of woman who let grass grow under her feet, if you know what I mean. That hasn’t changed just because I’m dead. I want to make sure I’m one of the first in line for your television show.”
Nonie looked at Guy who looked at Helen.
“Why can I see through you now?” Guy asked Helen. “Before, you looked as solid as Nonie.”
Helen swatted a hand his way. “It’s all about energy, son. I hadn’t been out of my house since the day I died. Traveling out this way zapped quite a bit of my energy. I guess that’s why I’m a little . . . foggy maybe.”
“How did you find your way here?” Nonie asked.
“I followed him,” Helen said, motioning to Guy. “As soon as y’all left my house, I hooked my energy onto his and there you go.”
“So you were with us at the plantation?” Guy asked. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Like I said,” Helen reiterated. “Energy. I was a bit weak in the knees, having left my house and all. Wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. Felt a bit wonky. So I hid in corners most of the time, out of the way, until I could get my feet under me. Felt a bit more whole, you know?”
“But if you latched onto me then and all the way here to Nonie’s,” Guy said. “I would have felt you, seen
you, right?”
Helen shrugged. “I don’t have the answers to everything, son. I’m just like you where death is concerned. A lot of unanswered questions. All I can do is try things every once in a while and see if they work. I guess it’s a matter of how important things are to you. You know what I mean? The more important something is to you, the more energy you’ll put out to take care of it, get it. That sort of thing. For me, being on television is important.” Helen held up a hand as if to stop traffic. “But wait a minute, we got off track here. I was saying that this was the saddest thing I’d ever seen.”
“What’s sad?” Guy asked.
“You’re giving this young lady here a hard time about going on a date with a live man. Son, you’re dead. What’s she supposed to do with you in that condition? You’ve got to let her move on with her life.”
Nonie heart thudded in her chest. As much as she loved Guy and would always love Guy, she’d wanted to tell him that very thing so many times. Nine years was a long time to mourn and having him around all the time never allowed her to completely go through the mourning process. She’d been on dates before, but nine out of ten times they’d been interrupted by Guy. And he did it out of sheer jealousy. Sex had become a once a year event, if she was lucky. It usually happened when she and Kyle, Lyle’s twin brother, accompanied Buggy and Lyle to their annual beach vacation either in Biloxi or Pensacola. For some odd reason, Guy never followed her out of state. She wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to or couldn’t, and she wasn’t about to ask him. Not that the sexual experience with Kyle was any huge treat. A Romeo he was not. His sex education ran more in line with his work as an offshore operator. Drill in, clear out. After a few experiences with him and sensing nothing was going to change . . . for the better, Nonie figured some things were better tended to on her own.
Aside from those vacation days, Nonie was always holding her breath, waiting for Guy to pop up whenever another man came near her. There were occasions when he’d go on sabbatical for two or three days, to where she wasn’t sure. She’d asked him once or twice, and his response was always some smartass remark like, “Oh, just doin’ a walkabout.” Like he was from Australia or something. Guy didn’t even know how to find Australia on a map. He never offered more of an explanation than that.
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