A Girl, a Guy, and a Ghost

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A Girl, a Guy, and a Ghost Page 22

by Patricia Mason


  “Not that. That.” Giselle pointed to Ren and Field. The two hulks strode along the sidewalk toward their land-boat-like automobile situated in front of the flaming hearse.

  “Those are the two guys who work for Lester,” Kopeleski said.

  “No kiddin’. Thanks a lot for the valuable information. Like we didn’t know that already,” Giselle said with a sarcastic lilt.

  “I want to talk to those two…with my fists.” Ry reached for the car door handle.

  Before he could pull it open, Lester’s henchmen glanced in their direction. They started as they seemed to spot the Cadillac and its passengers. Ren—or was it Field?—said something to the other and the two goons hopped into the car. Before the Cadillac’s occupants could react, Ren and Field peeled away with their tires squealing.

  “Should I try to follow them?” Madam asked as the taillights disappeared around the corner.

  “No.” Ry sighed. “Just park.”

  Madam pulled up and backed into the space vacated.

  The wizard barely waited for the car to stop before he jumped out. “This is going to be a blast, snooky.” Kopeleski ran around the front bumper and opened Madam’s door.

  A blast? Had the crazy wizard not been following along with what was going on? But then Kopeleski did seem to be one tarot card short of a full deck.

  “I can’t wait to introduce you to my peeps,” he said excitedly, and held his hand out to Madam and drew her from the car.

  His peeps? He wasn’t missing just one card. He lacked the entire major arcana of the tarot deck. Although, he did get points for opening the door of the car for his date, which was more than Ry did. Ry had exited and was loping down the sidewalk before Giselle could even get out of the car.

  At the foot of the stairs, which led up to the porch of the castle, Ry paused. Party noises—music, voices and movement— could be heard from inside.

  Madam and Kopeleski continued up to the front door as Ry turned to Giselle. She ran to catch up with the group and arrived a bit breathless. Ry faced Giselle and cupped her shoulders with his hands.

  She felt a tingle go from her shoulders down to her feet. How could a man’s touch be so thrilling? She’d like to jump his bones right here in front of Lester’s castle. How inappropriate was that? This wasn’t exactly the right time for romance. They had things to do. But with Ry’s hands on her body, she suddenly couldn’t remember what those things were. Maybe he felt the same.

  “I’m going to go around to the back and check out that garage again. I want to see what Ren and Field tried to hide in there,” Ry said.

  Maybe not. Worse, he wanted to go back into danger. Just when she’d got him back. Giselle still hadn’t recovered her equilibrium from the losing him the last time.

  “No way.” Giselle frowned. “Who knows when those guys will come back. They won’t just throw you in the trunk this time. I don’t think you should go in there alone.”

  Ry smiled. He stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. “I’m prepared for them this time. Besides, I’ll take a quick look and then join you at the party. I’ll be inside before you can say vampire.”

  Giselle nodded. “Okay, but be careful. Don’t get stunned again.”

  “You’re just worried there will be more injured spots you’ll have to kiss later. Afraid you can’t handle the job?” he teased.

  “Oh, I think you know I can handle kissing anything you got, mister. I just want it to be in good working order at the time. You get me?” Giselle retorted.

  “Don’t worry.” Ry released her. “Mama,” he called up the stairs. “I’m going to make a stop. I want you to keep an eye on Giselle in there until I get back.”

  Madam came off the porch to stand beside Ry. She didn’t appear pleased if the sour look on her face was any indication. The feeling was more than mutual.

  “Isn’t that like putting the fox in charge of the hen house? And anyway, I don’t need or want your mother’s protection,” Giselle protested.

  “Yes, I’m sure Ms. Hunter can take care of herself,” Madam said with a saccharine sweetness.

  Ry scowled. “I’m not comfortable with either of you being alone in there.”

  “I’ll be safe. Armand is with me,” Madam said.

  Giselle noticed right away that she wasn’t included in that safety assurance.”

  “Skippy the happy wizard doesn’t count. We don’t know what side he’s really on,” Ry said.

  Madam began a sputtered protest and Ry stopped her. “No, Mama. We don’t know for sure.”

  He put a hand on Madam’s arm. “I really need you to do this for me, Mama.” He glanced toward Giselle. “Can’t the two of you cooperate long enough to stick together for a few minutes at a party?”

  At the disgruntled looks on each of their faces, he asked, “Please?”

  They continued to look mutinous.

  “For me?”

  Madam caved first. “All right. No one can accuse me of being an uncaring mother. I’ll do it for you, son.” She glared at Giselle. “Just for you.”

  Ry’s produced a dazzling one-thousand-watt smile. “Thanks, Mama.” He kissed her cheek.

  Giselle could hardly let Madam be the better sport. “Okay, I’ll do it for you, Ry.”

  She bathed in the warmth of his approving smile for a moment before he turned to sprint toward the side of the house.

  “Hey.” She stopped him before he could turn the corner. “What, no kiss?” Giselle said it in a stage whisper. Ry turned back and blew a kiss in her direction. Giselle smiled. She could feel the smile slide off her lips as she faced the glare of Madam.

  “Just stay out of my way,” Madam said in a haughty tone, showing her second of two faces. “I don’t have the time or the inclination to baby sit you, Ms. Hunter.” Madam pivoted on one heel and started back up the stairs to Kopeleski.

  “Back atcha, lady.” Giselle climbed the stairs and followed Madam across the porch to the front door of the castle.

  Kopeleski knocked and the door swung open. A tall but lean man of about fifty with a tangle of curly black hair blocked the entry. He had a black mustache and beard streaked with gray.

  Giselle saw the partygoers eating, drinking, laughing, chatting inside the house a tantalizing few feet beyond him.

  The man had an unremarkable face, except for the black eye patch he wore over his right eye. Dressed in black with knee-high black boots on his feet, he could almost have been a pirate. Giselle looked down his arms. Two hands and no hook. Maybe he wasn’t a pirate after all.

  “Are you a VICTIM?” the man said it in a bored monotone, his voice gravelly.

  Kopeleski leaned toward him and whispered. The man stepped back and let him enter with Madam. Giselle moved to follow and Mr. Eye Patch held up his hand like a cop with a stop sign.

  “Halt. You can’t enter without identification.”

  Dammit. Her purse was locked in Ry’s Jeep. “I don’t have my identification. But I’m with the people you just let in.”

  “No, no. You need your VICTIM membership identification badge or I’ll need to issue you a temporary visitor badge,” he growled.

  Dammit, this complicated matters. “Can you hurry? I don’t want to miss the party.” Now that she could smell the food, Giselle realized just how hungry she was. It had been hours since she’d had anything to eat or drink.

  Mr. Eye Patch opened the door and escorted her to a table just inside. “Are you a vampire?” he asked.

  “No. Are you a pirate?”

  The man scowled. “There’s no need to get insulting. I have to ask you these questions so I can issue you the correct identification.” He pointed with a jerky motion at the paper cut-out badges on the table.

  Looking at them more closely, Giselle saw that they’d been made from black construction paper in the shape of a bat in flight. Each had a heart in the center. Giselle noticed that many of the hearts had different colors.

  “Vampires are assigned a badge with a red heart
,” Mr. Eye Patch said. “I suppose the red is supposed to be blood.”

  “I’m not a vampire.”

  “Do you want to be? Wannabes get a pink heart.”

  “No.”

  He seemed nonplussed. “All but one of the badges I’ve issued tonight have been red and pink. I did issue one gray one. They’re for the unbelievers. You don’t want that one.”

  “Why not?”

  “They harassed the guy I issued it to until he left, crying.”

  “Ah, you’re right. I wouldn’t want to be harassed by the group fighting harassment,” Giselle remarked dryly.

  Mr. Eye Patch didn’t seem to get the irony.

  “You have to have a badge.” He paused, uncertain of how to proceed. “I can’t let you in without a badge.”

  “What are the purple hearts for? Gay vampires?” Giselle asked.

  He smirked cockily and waved away her comment with one hand. “No. They’re for the press. You know. Purple prose?”

  “I thought the press would be yellow, for yellow journalism. Or are they for cowardly vampires?” Giselle laughed.

  Mr. Eye Patch lost his cockiness. “You’re right. The yellow ones are for journalists. Now I’m confused. What are the purple ones for?” He scratched his bearded chin. Some moments later he leaned toward Giselle. “Confidentially, I’m not a regular with this organization. I was just hired to handle door security tonight.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m a writer, so I get a yellow one.” Maybe she could finally get into the party and get some of those delicious-smelling canapés before they were all gone.

  Mr. Eye Patch perked up with excitement. “If you’re writing about the party maybe you can write about this.” He reached into his pants. For a second, Giselle held her breath, afraid of what he would do. Then his hand whipped out again, holding a business card. He thrust it out to her as if wielding a sword. “You could profile me for your article.”

  Giselle plucked it from his hand and read. Peter Redbeard. Asset acquisition and personal security consultant.

  “Peter Redbeard? You are a pirate. But don’t you think Blackbeard would be more appropriate?”

  Mr. Eye Patch stood stony-faced. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Asset acquisition? Is that the same thing as plundering for pirate booty?” Giselle laughed.

  Mr. Eye Patch glowered.

  “Oh never mind. Just give me the badge so I can enjoy the party.” Or at least the food.

  “I’m not sure if I can issue you one of those if you don’t have your press credentials with you,” Mr. Eye Patch said in a belligerent tone.

  “It’ll be okay. Lester knows me. I’m working on a project with him.”

  Mr. Eye Patch glanced behind him. “Let me just go and ask him. What’s your name?”

  “Anne Rice.”

  “Wait here Ms. Rice. I’ll be right back.”

  When he had disappeared down the hall and into a crowd of people in a room to the right, Giselle snatched up a purple-hearted bat and pinned it to her blouse. She slipped into the crowd in a room to the left of the hall. No need for Lester to know she’d arrived just yet.

  Neither Kopeleski nor Madam could be seen. Giselle spotted a uniformed waiter circulating among a group of people. Wow, Lester had the party catered. Another waiter appeared on her left.

  “Canapé, miss?” He eyed her bat. Or maybe it was her chest he was ogling. Hey, wait a minute. He looked familiar. Wasn’t he the pimply faced teenage motel desk clerk with the internet porn habit? Naw, couldn’t be. Could it?

  “Yes,” Giselle said, snapping up a crab cake and popping it in her mouth. It melted in her mouth with deliciousness. “Urmm, dank ew.”

  “What?”

  “Thank you,” Giselle repeated, this time without the mouthful. The waiter started to move away. “Hold it, mister.” Giselle took two more crab cakes off the platter.

  The waiter tried to hide a smile as she stuffed one of them in her mouth. “What’s the purple heart for?”

  “Hrmm?” She chewed and then swallowed.

  “The purple heart on the bat. You’re the only one I’ve seen with a purple heart. What does the purple mean?”

  Giselle thought hard. Nothing intelligent came to mind. She swallowed a lump of canapé. “It means I like Prince.”

  “Huh.” He eyed the bat one last time then walked away.

  As she finished off her third canapé, Giselle glimpsed a bar set up on a table in the corner. She decided that she could definitely use a drink to fortify her before heading off on her mission to…to what? What did she hope to find out at this party? Ren and Field had fled. Would Lester reveal anything that could explain what had been going on?

  Giselle scanned the crowd. A blonde woman spoke animatedly to a young man. Her hand clutched and then caressed his arm in turns as she thrust her ample bosom forward. Miss Sandy. Giselle moved closer and caught a snippet of the conversation.

  “I was a race car driver for a time,” Miss Sandy said. “But the helmet caused terrible acne. So, even though they begged me not to leave, I moved here to Savannah.”

  Just then Miss Sandy caught sight of Giselle.

  “Don’t I know you?” Miss Sandy called past her companions to Giselle.

  “Yes,” Giselle answered. “I think we climbed Mount Kilamanjaro together.”

  Miss Sandy thought about that for a second then smiled. “Oh yeah.”

  Giselle pushed past several partygoers and had just reached for a plastic glass of pre-poured red wine at the makeshift bar when—

  “Don’t touch it!” A male voice ordered behind her. Giselle’s hand stopped mid-reach. She recognized the voice. “I mean it. Don’t you dare touch it!”

  “But I just―” an equally recognizable female voice answered.

  Glancing over her shoulder, Giselle saw a middle-aged couple, the two from the antique store. Oh yeah. The bully and the klepto. Best to stay out of that mess.

  She scanned the room and didn’t see anyone else she recognized until she saw Kopeleski. The wizard stood alone near the entrance to the hall. He snatched a canapé from the tray of a passing waiter and popped it in his mouth. Munching, his eyes shifted right and left. Then he darted out of the room and into the hallway as if he were trying to avoid anyone seeing him leave.

  What was this devious lunatic up to? And where was Madam? Even though she didn’t personally care about the medium’s welfare, she didn’t want to face Ry if something happened to his mother.

  Giselle sidled around a laughing group of partygoers. Where those fangs she saw in one guy’s mouth? Oh never mind that now. She had to follow Kopeleski. She peeked around the doorjamb down the hall and spotted the wizard with his back to a door a few feet away. Again, he surreptitiously looked in one direction and then the other before putting his hand behind him onto the knob of the door. He turned it slowly. When the door was open a crack, he slipped through into the room beyond. The door quickly clicked to a close.

  What was he doing in that room? So far she hadn’t seen Lester or Marissa. Was Kopeleski in there meeting with either or both of them? She didn’t trust the crazy wizard. He was in this…this…conspiracy up to his third eye ball.

  Creeping down the empty hall, Giselle soon stood at the closed door. She put her ear to the wood panel and listened. She heard low murmuring. Then a stifled cry—a woman’s cry—followed almost instantaneously by the sound of something crashing to the floor. More low cries, almost a keening sound, seeped through the door to Giselle’s ears.

  Omigod, they were killing someone in there. What should she do? Frantically searching the hall, she spotted a lighter—a long, fireplace lighter—on the hall table. Oh well, it was the best she could do in a pinch. She grabbed it up. Giselle’s hand went to the knob of the door. She turned, pushed and stormed in, holding the lighter at arm’s length in front of her like a gun.

  “Stop what you’re doing! I have a weapon and I’m not afraid to use it.”

>   The two figures quit struggling against each other as Giselle’s voice echoed in the bathroom. Kopeleski and Madam Divinity stood frozen—caught in an act Giselle didn’t even want to think about.

  “Uh,” Giselle groaned.

  Before she could look away, the image had burned an indelible memory into her brain. The memory of the half-naked wizard pressing Ry’s mother to the wall opposite the toilet, Madam’s legs wrapped around his waist. Giselle crammed the lighter into her pocket and quickly hid her eyes behind both hands.

  “What do you want?” Kopeleski gasped, clearly winded from his exertions.

  “Sorry,” Giselle said. “Go back to what you were doing. Or not. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I thought that you— Never mind. I didn’t realize you were both in here or I would have knocked,” she babbled. “And also I didn’t know this was a bathroom. If I’d known I wouldn’t have—”

  “Just get out,” Madam said, panting.

  “No problem.” Stepping back, Giselle rammed into the door. “Ow.” Her hand fell away from her eyes. Another grotesque snapshot image fried a few million more brain cells before she could fix her gaze on the ceiling. “Oops, I’m getting out.”

  She made it through the opening, groped blindly, gripped the edge of the door and slammed it shut.

  In desperate need of a drink, Giselle stumbled back into the party throng. She had almost reached the bar when she saw Mr. Eye Patch standing beside it. He seemed to be searching the crowd for something…or someone. Crap.

  Giselle spun around and took a step in the opposite direction, straight into the path of another partygoer. They collided and Giselle caught hold of the slight figure she had knocked off balance.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. Then recognition registered. “It’s you!”

  “Giselle, ma cherie.” Vector grinned. “You have found me. It is great luck, no?”

  “No.”

  Vector grabbed Giselle’s hands and began pressing kisses into the palm of first one and then the other. “When I could not find you earlier I thought to myself, Vector you have lost her. She has checked out of the hotel. How do you find the love again?”

  He kissed the back of her hand.

 

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