Bein' Dead Ain't No Excuse Page 2

  “Taken care of. Holly switched them over to Lizzie, and she's glad for the extra money, so don’t give it another thought. We have all the time you need,” Deena assured me.

  A brief tap sounded at the door before it sprung open to admit Billie Jo. “Mama called, so I came right over.” She closed the door behind her and moved over to the vacant chair beside me. “She’s really pissed at you, Jolene. Daddy too. I think you need to explain yourself.”

  I felt the tingle of her direct and examining stare and gauged how to open this conversation. At Billie Jo’s age, late thirties, the doctor feared a possible miscarriage, so he had ordered her to rest until the birth of their baby. My brother-in-law, Roddy, would literally kill me if she lost their second child because of my recklessness. Caution was the keyword here.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this, Billie Jo?” My gaze roamed over her still flat stomach. “I don’t want to further upset you and endanger the baby.”

  Billie Jo’s serious expression softened. “Just give it to us straight. Everyone is overreacting with this pregnancy. I’m stronger than everyone thinks, including the doctor. I don’t need to be on bed rest.”

  Deena gave a nod of agreement, so I began, “This morning I had an unexpected visit from Scarlett.” Deena groaned, but I ignored her. “She returned to warn me that Mama’s on the list of arriving saints.”

  “List of arriving saints?” Billie Jo questioned. “You lost me.”

  “This is the list you were referring to earlier?” Deena also spoke up.

  I nodded. “Yes. I learned about the list only recently. I won’t launch into that now, but believe me, there’s a list in Heaven of arriving souls. Each soul is tried on their merits and then sent to the appropriate destination.”

  “That’s not what we learned in Sunday school,” Billie Jo observed. “So it’s all about karma after all?”

  “And you’re trying to tell us that Mama’s going to die?” Deena’s voice and face mirrored disbelief. “Why that’s crazy. No one knows these things.”

  I understood her confusion. Humans are not supposed to know the day or hour of our death, but I had an inside ear. Scarlett Cantrell—my personal angel with the personality of an aging beauty queen. Our love/hate relationship bordered on insane. Her death in my beauty shop was the beginning of my advent into the spirit world. But I don’t consider myself a medium or a psychic. I see myself more of a spirit consultant to transient specters looking for human help. In the years since I discovered my talent, I’ve grown into a reasonably decent ghost detective. However, this newest adventure may prove to be my undoing. Scarlett warned of dire consequences if I interfered with Heaven’s plans, but I couldn’t accept my mother’s fate. Hence, this impromptu meeting with my sisters.

  “You’re forgetting Scarlett,” I said. “She’s my eyes and ears up there, and when she talks, I listen.”

  Billie Jo stood to her feet and walked over to gaze out the window where the sunlight beamed through. “Any idea when this is supposed to happen? Or how?”

  “You don’t believe this nonsense, do you, Billie Jo?” Deena jumped to her feet and raced around her desk. She plowed to a stop beside my chair.

  “Yes, I do,” she said with her back to us. “Jolene wouldn’t make this up.” Billie Jo turned to face us, her petite silhouette outlined by the streaming rays. “Would you, sis?”

  I shook my head. “I would never lie to either one of you about a matter as serious as this. What I’m telling you is the truth. Mama’s going to die if we don’t stop it.”

  Deena expelled a heavy sigh. “I don’t believe of word of it, but hypothetically, if I did, how do you propose we do that?”

  My heart smiled at her choice of words. Gruff Deena always came around. “I don’t know. Any suggestions?”

  “Well, we can’t hire a twenty-four-hour bodyguard, can we?” Deena smiled with encouragement. “Daddy wouldn’t like a handsome stranger hanging around Mama. You know how jealous he is.”

  “What if we all take turns watching over her,” Billie Jo suggested. “Between the family members, we should be able to keep her safe. Lynette is spending the night with her and Daddy, and can call me if there’s any problem.”

  “Mama’s not going to like all the attention,” Deena said. “But I have an idea.”

  “What?” I prompted. “Anything will help.”

  “Well, Holly gave her two-week notice this morning. She’s moving to Alabama to get married, and we’re going to need a receptionist.”

  Billie Jo joined us at the desk. “And Mama’s the perfect replacement.”

  I beamed at both of my sisters. “Brilliant. By hiring Mama, she’s right under our noses all day. Daddy can take guard duty at night. With Deena’s wedding closing in, one of us will always be with her. And since I’m single, I can spend most of my free time anchored at her side. If we’re all agreed, then Deena, get Mama on the phone and see if she would like a job at Dixieland Salon.”

  Chapter Two

  I Walk the Line

  With the meeting behind me and some free time before my next client, I set about removing the floral arrangements from the reception area as a few of our patrons had complained about the overwhelmingly sweet scent contributing to their sinus miseries. Leaving one of the smaller bouquets on the reception desk, I decided to store the rest in the facial room until lunch at which time I would take the remainder over to the nursing home for the elderly to enjoy.

  After retrieving the key from Deena’s office, I approached the facial room door with anxious thoughts of the unwanted guest occupying the empty space. Unlocking the door, I pushed it open, stepped inside, and switched on the overhead light. Silence met my intrusion. From my position by the door, I could make a hasty retreat if the invisible force turned nasty. Except nothing happened. Nada. I took another step. And then another. Nothing. No bad vibrations at all.

  Gaining courage, I backed out of the room and returned with several more bouquets in hand, and placed them on the table against the wall. With two more trips, I filled the room with floral arrangements from the reception area.

  I had just set down the last vase when I heard the door click behind me—shutting out the sounds from the salon. A still silence came over the room, and a cold hand seemed to squeeze my heart. There was a definite sense of eeriness invading the area. I took a shaky breath, pivoted on my heel to confront the uninvited entity, and almost peed my pants in fright.

  The thing was huge and ugly, and it stood between me and the door. My gaze narrowed in on the green ooze dripping from its gaping mouth, and the red glowing eyes glittering with evil purpose. Its scaly skin appeared grayish-green, and the image of an alligator stalking its prey under the still waters of the Okefenokee Swamp flashed through my mind.

  “I have anticipated our meeting since I arrived.” The surprisingly lyrical voice broke the silence. Who would have thought a demon's voice could be that beautiful? But then I remembered Lucifer and his charms.

  A demon. Well, why not? I’d been consorting with ghosts and heavenly beings. Why not a female demon from the pit of Hell? Geez. My life sucketh greatly.

  “I can’t say I share the sentiment,” I responded in a shaky voice. My knees continued to tremble, and nausea gurgled in my gut. The demon’s foul breath brushed over me, and I shivered with dread. “What do you want here?”

  “Only to help. I have a proposition that might interest you, my dear.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “Ah, but you do.” Leathery wings unfurled, flapped an ugly sound, and then tucked back against its rounded belly. “I’ve only been waiting for the right time to offer my services. I believe the time has arrived.”

  In spite of my fear, I was intrigued enough to ask, “Why now?”

  The demon only smirked. “The List.”

  “You know about that?” Surprise heightened my voice, and I thought of Scarlett and Heaven’s big kick-ass angels. If I sent out a universal SOS, would they
swoop in and rescue me from the facial room beast? Man, this was way out of my scope of understanding, and I needed immediate help from the “Celestial Top Ten”—the best known winged celebrities in the Universe.

  Red eyes gleamed with understanding. “I can stop the carnage by placing your mother in my protective custody,” the lyrical voice taunted.

  My hackles rose in self-defense. Holy crap! I couldn’t let this creature anywhere near my sainted mother. Then a flash of inspiration struck, and I made a sign of the cross over my chest. “In Jesus’ name, I command you to leave my shop!”

  An explosion of sparks rained down from the ceiling in fiery embers, and I jumped back in surprise. When the smoke cleared, the demon only laughed, exhaling puffs of red and yellow, which smelled of sulfur. “Do you really want to engage in a fight with me, my dear? I think not. I’m your only hope of stopping Annie Mae’s entrance into the afterlife. And stop throwing around names. It’s irritating and has no effect.”

  I bobbed my head in response. Freaked out and scared out of my wits, I didn’t have a clue what to do or say next. The only thing which came to mind was to keep a steady stream of silent appeal to the heavenly realm, while the beast huffed and puffed like that wolf from a childhood fairy tale. Watching those red puffs brought to mind another childhood story, and an idea took shape.

  “I guess you have a name?” Sweat peppered my upper lip.

  “One that is as old and revered among the gods.”

  I quirked a brow in consternation. “And that would be?” Come on give it up.

  The demon fanned itself with its leathery wings. “My name is unimportant.”

  “Pretty bad, huh?” I retorted with a snort, hoping she would play my game. I needed that name.

  The demon did not deny it. “I was present in the Garden of Eden.”

  My mind did back-flips trying to recall my Sunday school lessons but came up empty, so I took a wild guess. “The snake?”

  “The snake comes late in the story.” The beast of the facial room laughed. “I am the wind spirit.”

  Sheesh! I hadn’t a clue. “Well, I know you’re not Eve.”

  An evil chuckle washed over me. “Ah, poor Eve. Subservient to Adam. I refused to lie beneath a man, and because of my rebellion I was banished from my garden paradise.”

  A memory sparked. No, it couldn’t be. Pastor Inman mentioned her once in a sermon at Easter. I made the sign of the cross again over my heart for added protection. “Lilith. Adam’s first wife. But you’re just a myth.”

  Again that evil chuckle. “A cover-up for Heaven’s mistake, but let’s not dwell on the distant past. I’m here to help you stop Heaven’s carnage. As I’ve said, I have a proposition for you, my dear.”

  In an attempt to banish the evil entity, I made the sign of the cross with my fingers, and commanded in a firm, voice, “Lilith, leave and never come back, in Jesus’ name.”

  This time a shower of sparks flew from her long fingertips to scorch my hair and eyebrows. I felt the sting and jumped back against the wall. Damn, I'd really pissed her off that time, and I let loose a couple of F-bombs as I tried to put out my smoking tresses. From the burning sensation on my forehead, and the foul stench of burning hair, I realized I had paid a hefty penalty for my foolishness, and I had no idea how I would explain my singed condition to my sisters and nosey clients.

  I held up a hand of appeal. “Okay, no more name calling. I’m listening.”

  “Good girl,” Lilith muttered mockingly, “you can’t win against me.”

  “And if I refuse this proposition?” I couldn’t believe I dared to bargain with one of Hell’s angels, but so far no help from above had answered my summons, and I was out of ideas. The dice had been thrown, and I was on my own.

  Lilith spit sulfur. “Your mother dies.”

  At her words, I had a horrific vision of the family gathered around Mama’s casket, and I was ready to agree to anything to stop this injustice. “Okay. No tricks, and are you capable of speaking the truth?”

  “I am.”

  “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “Your soul for your mother’s life.”

  Every hair on my body bristled. “No,” was my immediate answer.

  Lilith grinned. “Are you sure? I have it on good authority that your father won’t recover from his wife’s sudden departure. And what about the others? Billie Jo could lose her son, and Deena may call off her wedding and never love again.”

  Daddy join Mama in the hereafter? Billie Jo is having a boy! Deena never love again? These thoughts brought me up short. My decision could alter the future, and affect the well-being of my family. But still, I balked. Spending eternity in Hell was a no-brainer. But how could I get my family and me out of this entanglement without one of us, or all of us, paying the ultimate price? I was scared shitless but had to take a chance.

  “Would you like some time to consider the consequences?” Puffs of red and yellow smoke filled the room as Lilith laughed with glee. “This proposition is at my discretion.”

  I jumped on that and crossed my fingers for good luck. “Yes, I want more time.”

  “And so you shall have it.”

  “How much time do I have?”

  “That is at my discretion.”

  “And how will I know when my time is up?”

  Lilith’s red eyes burned with renewed fire. “You’ll know, my dear. Don’t worry, I’ll be closer than you think.”

  Chapter Three

  Bye, Bye, Love

  My morning confrontation with Lilith had shaken my confidence, and I wasn’t on my game with my next client whose once long brown tresses were now considerably shorter and an ugly shade of bright yellow. As I stood gauging her face in the mirror, she shot me a reproving look.

  She dug her cell phone out of her handbag. “I’m going to kill you, Jolene Claiborne.” Her quiet, serious tone rumbled with dangerous intent. “I’m literally going to kill you.” Tears of rage glinted in her eyes.

  Several heads turned our way at her strong rebuke and snickered. Three sets of eyes fixed on me. Flushing with frustration at my lack of concentration, I grabbed up her color card lying on the counter. “Calm down, Lynn. I’m going to fix this with a violet toner.” Her face said she didn’t believe me, but before I could respond, the front door opened, jingling the bells attached. I glanced over to see Bradford stroll in with a woman clinging to his arm, and head straight for my workstation.

  My danger meter sent out a shrill alarm. Oh, hell, more bad luck.

  The woman was drop-dead gorgeous. And clinging to Bradford’s arm.

  That was my first thought as they drew close, and the woman turned her bright smile on me. She was stunning, with a face to die for, long, curling auburn hair midway down her back, and large, round eyes that glistened like amethysts. She could hypnotize with those violet eyes.

  My second thought was to drop her to the floor and rip her face off. Again, my danger meter beeped a second alarm to high-tail it out of there. Instead, I plastered on a plastic smile and told my irate client I would be right back with her toner. She shot me daggers and turned back to her phone. As I walked away, I could hear her disparaging remarks about me to the listener on the other end. With my mood darkening with every passing second, I met Bradford and the beautiful stranger at the reception desk. Thankfully Deena and Billie Jo were exiting from the office at the same time and rushed over. Deena read my down-turned face in an instant and stepped in to ease the building tension.

  “Sam, how nice of you to stop in before hitting the road,” she gushed with a Grand Canyon smile. “And who have you brought with you?” She turned to smile at the woman.

  Bradford cast me a questioning glance, and I knew he too had noticed my singed hair and brows. Not the place to explain, so I remained quiet as he made the introductions. “I ran into this lovely lady out in the parking lot. She’s new to Whiskey Creek and plans to open a beauty shop across the street. Ladies, this is Lilith Lacewell. Lilith, t
his is Jolene Claiborne, and her sisters, Deena Sinclair and Billie Jo Hazard.”

  The sounds of the salon faded into the background as those amethyst eyes stared into mine. Every hair on my body stood on end, my mouth dried up like old stale cotton, and my psychic sensor zapped me with an electrical current that sent my teeth on edge and my limbs to trembling.

  Good God Almighty! It was the beast of the facial room—cleverly disguised as a beautiful woman, like the snake in the Garden—waiting and watching for the perfect opportunity to strike. She’d warned me that she would be close by, but I’d never imagined how close. Damn, too close for comfort.

  This called for backup of the heavenly kind—Scarlett Cantrell, and her big kick-ass angels with swords of demon-killing light. Of course, convincing her to help wouldn’t be easy. No. Not after our heated pow-wow in the dispensary this morning. She'd been dead set against me challenging the Death Angel, and after strictly warning me to stay out of Heaven’s business had vamoosed back from whence she’d come. Gaining her trust and wooing her to back to Whiskey Creek would take time and a whole lot of my evaporating energy.

  I tuned back into the here and now and witnessed my sisters giving the ole beasty girl a friendly welcome to Whiskey Creek, and they then turned to me as if it were my turn to extend the hand of greeting. Nope. Since I knew what was hiding beneath that reasonable facsimile of a human being, I wasn’t going to shake hands with ole sulfur breath. Instead, I bobbed my head and muttered a hasty hello from a safe distance.

  Bradford twisted his hat in his hands, a sure sign of impatience. “Now that you’ve been properly introduced, I’d like to speak with Jolene privately if you ladies will excuse us.”

  Deena gave me the thumbs up gesture, and Billie Jo just smiled. Motioning to one of my stylists, who stood gawking from her workstation, I instructed Lizzie to apply a violet toner to my client’s yellow tresses while I had a word with Detective Bradford. She gave a quick, flickering nod and headed off to the dispensary.