by Terri Garey
"I didn't know it at first," she said, "but by the time I got upstairs I'd figured it out. Joe and I were on our way down to get you out of there when you…" She paused, then went on. "… when you saw us in the hallway."
I drew in a deep breath. "I'm sorry about that, too." I'd acted like a jealous ass, and I knew it.
"When I told you I still loved Joe, I think you took it the wrong way," Kelly said. She cradled an empty coffee cup between her palms. "I do love him, but not that way. I never really did—I know that now. Besides," she smiled, "in case you haven't figured it out yet, he loves you."
I couldn't help but smile back. "I know. He just told me."
She relaxed in her chair, grinning broadly. "About time."
"You really don't mind?" If Kelly and I were going to make a go of this twin sister thing, we needed to be of one mind, at least when it came to Joe.
"It's okay," she insisted. "I want you both to be happy." She was telling the truth. I could read it in her eyes—the same brown eyes that stared back at me from the mirror each morning.
"Thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt, Kelly, and for telling Joe he was being tricked." I owed her big-time for that.
She shrugged, like giving me my life back was no big deal. "No problem," she said, smiling. "Thanks for not pointing out that my hair's a mess this morning."
We grinned at each other, back on equal footing.
One problem down, one more to go. Time to talk about Sammy.
Kelly changed the subject before I did. "I've had a revelation."
Revelation—there was that word again.
"All this paranormal mumbo-jumbo is interesting," she waved a hand toward the books, "but it really is dangerous, isn't it?"
I looked at her, even more relieved than I'd been a moment ago. "Yes. It is." I took a sip of coffee. "When you open a door, like we did last night with the séance," I shuddered, remembering the strength it had given Psycho Barbie, "you better be sure what's on the other side. The dead don't need encouragement to stick around. They need closure."
"What about their families?" Her voice was thoughtful. "Don't their families need some kind of closure? Some kind of comfort to help them through the grieving process?"
I shrugged, staring at the brown liquid in my cup. "As far as I'm concerned, the living have lots of choices. They can pay two hundred bucks an hour for a shrink, just like I did."
There was an awkward pause. "I never saw the Light, Nicki. When I was in the accident, when I was in the hospital, I never saw the Light like you did. Not even last night, with Johnny, although I saw his face when he saw it." Kelly kept her eyes on the table. "And I've only seen two spirits, Keith Morgan and Johnny. You see them all the time."
"Three spirits."
"What?" She looked up.
"You've seen three spirits. You saw Albert at the hospital the morning he died. Are we in some kind of competition?"
"No." Kelly's voice was thoughtful. Her fingers played on the rim of the empty cup. "I'm just saying that I think my gift is different from yours. I don't have your strength of conviction, and maybe that's why I don't see as many." She gave me a half smile. "Anyway, I'd like to stay here a few more days." She toyed with the handle of her cup. "Why don't you and Joe go on back to Atlanta without me?"
I frowned, remembering Bijou's comment about how Kelly was going to stay in Savannah. The old lady had been right, which somehow didn't surprise me.
"Besides, something else happened this morning that really made me want to stick around."
I met her eyes, bracing myself.
Kelly smiled shyly, a pleased smile. "Spider kissed me."
"Spider kissed you!" I said it out loud because it was a nice reversal of the words I'd been hearing. "Are you sure it was him?" A lame joke, but it felt good to be able to make it.
"He came back super early this morning," her cheeks were turning pink, "to get his camera and stuff. Then he told me he couldn't sleep for thinking about me, and he didn't want me to leave Savannah just yet, and then he kissed me. I know you think he's too much into the spooky stuff, but he's sweet, sensitive—I really like him."
I was happy for her, but I couldn't resist a little more teasing. "A cute psychic with a Mother Teresa complex, and a gloomy nerd with delusions of gothdom—you're perfect for each other."
Both of Kelly's eyebrows shot toward the ceiling, but she was still smiling. "Okay, I guess there was a compliment in there somewhere."
Spider didn't seem like a bad guy, and his knowledge of the occult might come in handy. He might be going a little too far with all the ghost-busting stuff, but he had cautioned us about the Ouija board… at least he knew there were lines that shouldn't be crossed. Maybe if I talked to him, let him know what was going on, he could help me keep Kelly out of trouble.
"Get off that couch, cat!" Odessa's voice made Kelly and I jump. A door slammed somewhere in the rear of the house. "Git! Not that way—go on, now, git!"
A few seconds later the cat came running into the kitchen. It froze when it saw Kelly and me, green eyes wary.
"Pretty kitty," Kelly cooed. "What a pretty kitty."
The cat's tail twitched.
"Kitty, kitty, kitty…" Kelly obviously liked cats.
"Her name's Tabby," I offered, hearing heavy footsteps coming through the pantry.
Odessa came through the doorway, her expression furious yet determined. Tabby took one look at the big black woman and bolted. Two leaps and a bound, and she was in Kelly's lap, safe beneath the table.
"What did you just say?" Odessa was now glaring at me instead of the cat.
"Good morning to you, too, Odessa," I answered sweetly.
"Don't give me none of your sass, girl. It's too early in the morning for that foolishness. What did you just say?"
"I said, 'Her name's Tabby,' but I wasn't talking to you."
Odessa was silent for so long that it made me nervous.
Kelly was stroking the cat, scratching its ears. "I'll put her outside, Odessa. Is there something we can feed her?"
"How did you know the cat's name was Tabby?" Odessa was obviously not a morning person. She ignored Kelly's question.
"Leonard told me," I lied, just to be ornery. I didn't have to explain myself—or my ability to talk to the dead—to anybody.
"Huh." Odessa crossed both arms over her ample middle. "I'll be damned."
"Don't say that!" My knee-jerk response surprised everybody, including me. "Not in this house."
Odessa started to laugh. It began as a chuckle, deep in her throat, and progressed to a full-blown, bone-deep, satisfied laugh.
"If that don't beat all," she said, between chuckles. "You got the knack."
Kelly was smiling, enjoying Odessa's amusement, but I didn't find the old black woman's warped sense of humor very funny.
"Yeah, well." I wished I could think of something scathing to say, but all I could come up with was, "Kelly does, too."
Odessa laughed even harder, slapping her hands together with glee. "Miz Bijou was right. Blood will tell," she said, shaking her head, "every time."
"What's so funny?" Joe came into the kitchen, looking rumpled and sweet. He'd changed into a clean white T-shirt and combed his hair. "Did I miss something?"
My heart leapt, skipping a beat, confirmation that everything was just as it should be. I stood, brushing past a still chuckling Odessa, and wound my arms around Joe's neck. His arms came around my waist, and I kissed him, right there, in front of everybody.
"You haven't missed anything." I kissed him again, squeezing him tight. "How about some coffee?"
"Coffee! That man need more than coffee, girl." Odessa moved toward the stove, shaking her head. "Go ahead and pour him a cup while I fix up some biscuits and red-eye gravy. Some of that ham would go good with grits, and I got me some fresh eggs here in the refrigerator." Odessa was talking more to herself at this point than anyone else, but it didn't matter.
Joe was smiling, Kelly w
as still petting the cat, and all was right with the world.
* * *
CHAPTER 22
"It ain't like Leonard to miss a Sunday breakfast." Odessa poured Joe a third cup of coffee, shooting another anxious glance toward the door. "He's here every week at eight-thirty, just like clockwork. I done told him last night I was makin' biscuits."
"Maybe he overslept." Kelly wiped the last bite of red-eye gravy from her plate with what was left of her biscuit.
"Huh." Odessa turned back to the counter. "That man ain't gonna miss a meal over an extra forty winks."
Having just eaten one of the best Southern breakfasts of my life, I was privately inclined to agree.
"You cook for Leonard every Sunday, Odessa?" My tummy was full, I had Joe by my side, and I was finally relaxed enough to make small talk. "The Blue Dahlia isn't even open on Sundays." I'd read the Hours sign in the front window during our breaking and entering session.
"Miz Bijou always had Leonard over for breakfast on Sundays," Odessa said gruffly. She shrugged, stirring a pot of buttered grits. "No reason to stop just because she's gone."
"Why don't you call him," Kelly suggested.
Odessa shook her head. "He a grown man. I ain't his mama."
But I could tell by the way she checked her watch for the umpteenth time that she was worried.
"I'll go next door to the flower shop and see if he's there." Kelly slid from her chair and picked up a stack of books. As she did, something fluttered to the floor. "I need to put some of these books back anyway."
I bent to pick up what had fallen, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
Another tarot card. This one showed a woman in a blue gown, with a crown on her head, and was labeled "the High Priestess."
"Where did that come from?" Joe craned his neck to see the card. "Don't tell me, I know. Spider man left it." He was smiling, obviously teasing Kelly. "He uses them to increase his spidey-sense."
"He didn't plant that card last night, Joe." Color rose in Kelly's cheeks at the mention of Spider. "This one must've fallen out of one of the books," she added defensively. She put the books back on the table and pulled out the guide to tarot that she'd been reading last night. Ignoring Joe's eye roll, she looked up the High Priestess.
"'Secrets,'" she read aloud. "This card represents knowledge, intuition, mysteries kept from the world to be passed only to those who seek. The curtain behind the priestess represents the unknown, while the priestess herself sits between two columns—one black and one white—symbolizing both darkness and light.'"
A pained hiss came from Odessa. She jerked away from the stove, clutching her arm.
"You've burned yourself." Joe was at her side in an instant. "Let me see."
Odessa tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her.
"Nothing a little lard won't fix," she said, wincing. "I got me some bacon fat in the refrigerator."
To which Joe replied, "Over my dead body."
"Don't say that!" I burst out. When all three of them looked at me strangely, I added, "It creeps me out."
"At any rate"—Joe was in full doctor mode now, with no time for my creeps—"the first thing we do is get this under some cold water. If it starts to blister, we'll need some antibacterial lotion and a sterile bandage. Do you have a first aid kit?"
"What do you think this card means?" Kelly's whisper caught me by surprise.
I watched Joe as he ushered Odessa to the sink. My first thought was of Bijou. I hadn't told Kelly yet that I'd even seen the old woman, much less the things she'd told me. Secrets seemed to be her specialty.
"Bijou," I whispered back.
Kelly's eyes widened. "Did you see her? What'd she say?"
"Not here."
The entire exchange had taken only a few seconds. Joe was manhandling Odessa into holding her arm under running water while she gave him a hard time.
"I've burned myself before! I don't need no snot-nosed white boy tellin' me what to do!"
"That's Dr. White Boy to you," Joe returned calmly. "Now hold it right there while I get a piece of ice."
"Are you okay, Odessa?"
Kelly was rewarded for her concern with a rude comment from the injured party. "Do I look okay?"
Odessa kept her arm under the running water, though, as Joe rummaged through the freezer.
"Where's the ice maker?"
"Ain't got no ice maker—that's what them trays are for," Odessa snapped.
Joe cracked one of the trays with an efficient twist of the wrist, then plucked one of the cubes free. "Put this on that burn," he said to her. "It's going to hurt like hell at first, but you'll thank me later."
"Huh." Odessa's face was twisted with pain, and she took the ice cube from Joe's hand without saying anything more.
I'd burned myself with an iron once, which was why I now preferred wrinkle-free fabrics and big dry cleaning bills.
"Is there anything we can do?" I felt bad for Odessa.
"You can stop hoverin' over me," the old woman said. Pain obviously made her cranky. Of course, so did everything else.
Joe took a quick peek under the ice. "It doesn't look too bad, Odessa." He flashed her his best bedside grin. "Probably just leave you with a teeny new beauty mark."
"Huh," she said, but this time she lacked conviction.
"We'll be right back." Kelly scooped up the stack of books. "Nicki and I are going next door to check on Leonard."
Crap.
"And don't worry about the dishes, Odessa. We'll get them. It's the least we can do after you fixed us that great breakfast."
Double crap.
I followed Kelly out of the kitchen and through the dining room to the front porch.
"Tell me about Bijou," she said as soon as we were outside.
I would've, but one glance toward the open door of the Blue Dahlia took my thoughts elsewhere.
The lights were on. Leonard was obviously there.
But why was the door open? And why was he so late for breakfast?
Kelly and I saw the same thing. We glanced at each other, and I knew we were thinking the same thoughts.
"Leonard?" Kelly went in first, calling out cheerfully. "Are you in here?"
No answer.
"Leonard?" I came all the way inside the store, heading toward the counter. The register was unlocked, the drawer open and empty, but there was nobody around.
Not a good sign.
"Don't touch anything," I blurted. The business training I'd gotten before ever opening Handbags and Gladrags kicked in. Robbery 101—Fingerprints: Keep the Scene Clean.
"Nicki, look." Kelly was staring at the door to the basement. "It's open."
Crap, crap, crappity-crap-crap.
Kelly put the stack of books on the counter and started toward the basement stairs.
I called Leonard's name as loudly as I could. "Leonard?" There was no need to go down those stairs if he answered, now was there? "Leonard, are you down there?"
Unfortunately, he didn't answer.
"We should call the police," I said, none too eager to be the first person on a crime scene. Leonard was an old man, alone in the shop. What if the robber had taken him down there to mug him in peace?
"He could be hurt." Kelly started down the stairs. "We have to at least check."
"Stop, Kelly." I tried to grab her, but it was too late. "You're being incredibly stupid!"
What if the robber was still down there?
"Leonard?" Kelly called out loudly. "Leonard? Are you here? It's Kelly."
"And Nicki," I shouted, letting the robber know there was two of us. "And the police are on their way!" A lie like that couldn't possibly hurt—even though I'd left my cell phone in my purse.
Kelly was already halfway down the steps. She stopped short, her hand on the railing. "What… what are you doing down here?"
Thank goodness. Leonard was down there after all.
Kelly took the last few steps down into the basement, but by now
I was right behind her.
"I've been waiting for you," a man said just as I reached the bottom step.
I looked over at him, and my blood turned to ice.
The guy sitting at the velvet-covered table wasn't Leonard—it was Sammy.
"I need your help, Kelly," he said, effectively ignoring me. He leaned back in his chair, fingers idly stroking the edge of the Ouija board on the table in front of him. "And in return, I'll give you what you most desire." His smile was meant for Kelly alone, eyes intent upon his prey. "A visit with your mother, the lovely Peaches Boudreaux."
"Get the hell out of here," I said, stepping closer to Kelly. "Leave us alone."
"Nicki!" Kelly gave me a glare that would've shriveled fruit. "Stop it."
"Don't listen to him, Kelly. He's not some poor lost soul in need of help! He's the Devil."
"You don't know that!" I couldn't believe she was arguing with me over this. The lure of Peaches must've been awfully strong.
"I do know that." I turned my attention back to Sammy, who was watching with a smile. "I don't know what game you're playing, but you need to pack up your toys and go home. You're not welcome here anymore."
Sammy put a hand to his heart in mock horror. "You're casting me out?" He gave a theatrical sigh. "Story of my life."
"Nicki…" Kelly's voice held the first hint of doubt. Progress was wasted, though, when she froze—all movement stopped—as though a mannequin from Handbags and Gladrags had remembered its place.
"You're out of your league, dear heart." Sammy smiled at me coldly. "I can make Kelly believe whatever I want her to believe, for a little while. By the time she figures me out, it will be too late." Pale blue eyes gleamed at me in the dimness of the basement. "She'll be mine. My willing slave, just like her mother." He moued me a kiss.
"I'll burn this place to the ground before I let you have my sister," I said recklessly.
I was desperate. Kelly couldn't stay there.
"You'd do that for me?" Sammy was toying with me, like a cat with a mouse. "How sweet. I'm sure I'll feel right at home."
He snapped his fingers.
"Nicki!" Kelly snatched me by the arm, turning me to face her. "What's the harm in listening to what Sammy has to say? What if he really can help us talk to Peaches?"