Bein' Dead Ain't No Excuse Read online

  Mama downed two OTC pain pills, and pleased with all the attention she was receiving, declared she was in the mood for a pizza. Everyone agreed, and while Deena went to call for delivery, Daddy and I walked Preston out to his car. After thanking Preston for the hundredth time, Daddy went back into the house, and Preston left for another appointment. Seeing the time, I jumped in my Mustang and headed for Madame Mia’s.

  Chapter Eight

  This Magic Moment

  At precisely three o’clock, Madame Mia met me at the front door of her Fifth Street Victorian mansion. One glance at the frazzled psychic and I knew Scarlet had indeed dropped in to party with the old folks.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, Jolene,” she said, minus the heavy, exotic accent. “An odd occurrence in the séance room has me running late.” She swung the door wider and stepped back. “Please come in.”

  I gave her the once-over. “Would you like to reschedule?” Usually calm and wellput together, the beautiful psychic appeared rumpled and outofsorts standing in the foyer in wrinkled white linen pants and blouse—her raven hair frizzed and windblown. A flush of color stained her flawless cheeks, and I could barely smell her signature scent of lilacs.

  My hostess made a face. “Oh, no, just an overactive poltergeist crashed my appointment and upset my clients. Nothing to worry about. I sent the mischievous spirit on its way. However, the reading room is trashed, so if you’ll follow me, we’ll have tea and crumpets in the sunroom and talk about your special problem.” She smoothed down her ebony hair with a trembling hand and closed the door behind me when I stepped into the immaculate foyer with the shining inlaid wood floors and towering twelve-foot coffered ceiling, sporting a huge, ornate crystal chandelier.

  Crumpets? I searched my memory for any reference of them. Nope. None. Hadn’t a clue what they were and how to eat them. I sincerely hoped whatever they were, they were sweet and crispy like a shortbread cookie. Or a lemon snap.

  Madame Mia led the way to the back of the restored Victorian. Following in her wake, I tried not to gawk at the expensive antiques and glorious artwork lining the walls as we passed through spacious rooms. The last time I was here, I didn't see this part of the house. Whatever profession her husband dabbled in, it must be profitable because the mansion was outfitted topnotch. We passed through the kitchen, I couldn’t stifle a gasp of admiration when we entered the sunroom.

  Now, here was my idea of the perfect winter getaway. The afternoon sun streamed through a three-sided wall of shining glass to spill upon the washed silver oak inlaid wood floors, pale and gleaming. White wicker furniture with teal blue cushions arranged in an intimate seating offered a comfy place to soak up the warm sunshine. Nearby, delicate ferns and flowering plants hung from brass poles placed strategically about the room to catch the warming rays of the sun. Overhead, a fan moved sluggishly, barely stirring the balmy air. In the corner, used for heating purposes, stood an old-timey wood stove and a beat-up tin firewood bucket.

  The room was utterly charming, and I coveted every square inch unashamedly. From a splash of water in the nearby kitchen, I measured Madame Mia’s progress on tea preparation and wandered over to the wall of glass to admire the outside enclosed garden. Here fall had begun its annual striptease dance, and leaves of red and orange floated seductively to the ground in the gentle afternoon breeze.

  Several minutes passed before a low-pitched whistle emitted from the kitchen followed by the rattle of wheels on the wood flooring. I turned as Madame Mia appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and sunroom. During her absence, she had restored her appearance to its usual flawless perfection. One would never guess from her impeccable attire that she’d tangled with my mischievous ghostly sidekick not too long ago. I guess Whiskey Creek’s resident psychic was used to otherworldly manipulations. I crossed my fingers that she’d be able to steer me in the right direction with Lilith. Madame Mia was my last hope.

  Taking a seat on the sofa, I remained silent while she poured a cup of steaming amber liquid from the glass teapot, and gathered my thoughts on how best to approach the subject of the ancient wind spirit.

  With great care, I took the teacup and saucer from my host and added three heaping teaspoons to the pungent brew and a smidgen of cream. I lifted the cup, tested the temperature, and then sipped the tea as I had learned to do while visiting Barbara Herrington in hopes of fishing out answers to her husband’s untimely departure in which Daddy had been unjustly accused. However, that interesting story is told elsewhere and definitely worth reading.

  Seeing the platter of what looked suspiciously like buttered English muffins, I bypassed them and reached for a lightly toasted sugar cookie. Nibbling on the tasty treat, I waited for Madame Mia to begin the conversation.

  Madame Mia’s ebony gaze settled on me over the rim of her teacup. “The spirits of Whiskey Creek have been very active this week, Jolene. I wasn’t surprised at all to receive your urgent call. The trouble began on Halloween.”

  Time to get down to real business. This magic moment was speeding by, and I had little time left. I gulped down the cookie, set the teacup and saucer on the table, and met her gaze. “I have an unwelcome guest residing in my facial room, and I need your help evicting her.”

  “Her?”

  “A real beast. She claims to be Adam’s first wife, Lilith. Know anything about that?”

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you sure it’s Lilith? It could be an imp disguising itself. They’re extremely active around this time of the year and love to pull vicious pranks. I can’t imagine Hell deploying their mightiest artillery to a small town like Whiskey Creek. Most likely you’re mistaken.”

  “I’m pretty sure this is no imp.” I grabbed another thin cookie off the dessert tray and shoved it in my mouth.

  Madame Mia tapped the side of her face with a manicured finger. “I must consult my crystal ball.” She stood. “Come Jolene, tea time is over.”

  Crystal Ball?

  Since when?

  I picked my jaw up off of the ground after this stunning revelation. Since I’d never seen a crystal ball during any consultations with the beautiful psychic, I was curious. “How does this crystal ball thing work, Madame? You’ve never used it before in your readings with me. I need a strategic plan of action, not another lesson.”

  “That’s because I was doing a reading with the Tarots, my dear. This is different.”

  “How so?”

  “To gain mystical insight I must perform the ancient art of scrying—or as you may know it—crystal gazing or crystallomancy. The crystal will allow me to see psychic visions or impressions. I will then seek the wisdom of my guide for the interpretation. All will be well, my dear. You shall see.”

  Her explanation failed to penetrate my dense ignorance, and I was just as clueless as when I stepped through the front door, but I had no other options to explore, and I was hoping she would extract me from the invisible powers plaguing me like an infestation of mice. There was no one else for me to lean on. Crossing my fingers for good luck, I swallowed the last few drops of tea and pushed myself to my feet. Ready to get this over with, I tagged behind the Madame until we entered the familiar reading/séance room. I paused in the doorway to survey Scarlett’s handiwork. Antique chairs were overturned, rugs bunched up and twisted together, candles, bread and fruit littered the floor, and the lacy tablecloth hung from the chandelier. No wonder Madame Mia had appeared frazzled. It must’ve been one hell of a party Scarlett had with the old folks. I’d be sure and reprimand Scarlett for her outrageous behavior next time she dropped in.

  I sucked in a breath. “Wow. Was anyone hurt?”

  “Only my pride,” the psychic supplied as she righted the table and chairs. “The seniors were thrilled with the naughty poltergeist, and promised to return for another session.” She picked up a blue stone ball lying on the floor and placed it on the table. “They left a hefty tip, so perhaps I shouldn’t complain, but I hate losing control of a séance. Not good
for business.” She moved over to a cabinet and withdrew a black velvet cloth.

  I let that pass and pitched in restoring the room back to a semblance of order. The sooner the psychic could focus her attention on Lilith, the sooner I’d have the necessary answers of removing the she-demon from my facial room and Whiskey Creek. And answering a ton of questions crowding my overworked brain cells.

  Finally, we took our seats at the velvet-draped table with the crystal ball taking center stage. Mesmerized by its beauty, I could only stare in awe, and a touch of fear, at the shimmering celestial blue sphere, encircled by a hazy white halo. Although I knew it was a trick of the eye, the sphere seemed to pulse with a life of its own on its four-pronged golden pedestal.

  Madame Mia must’ve noted my frozen gaze on the stone ball for she said in her heavy, exotic accent, “The Lapis Lazuli sphere symbolizes royalty and honor, Jolene. Man has sought it above all stones for its link to the gods and their power. Through its use, we find wisdom and truth. It will provide protection from the evil eye, and counteract the wiles of the spirits of darkness and procure the favor of the spirits of light and wisdom.”

  I gnawed my bottom lip. “Evil eye? Holy crap, I’m going to drape myself in the stuff. If there ever were a person in need of the favor of the spirits of light and wisdom, that would be me. I attract evil like dogs attract fleas.”

  Ignoring my outburst, she drew the blue sphere from the center of the table until it was just opposite her. “Let us concentrate together on the stone of truth.” She inhaled a long breath, then exhaled slowly. “Follow my lead, Jolene and open yourself to the universal harmony. Breathe in, breathe out. Yes, that’s it. Just as I taught you. Clear your mind of all thoughts. Be in the present, my dear.” She closed her eyes and continued her deep breathing.

  Unsure of what to expect with the introduction of the crystal ball, I followed her example but kept one eye cracked open for security purposes. It’s never a good idea to completely trust one’s physical and mental well-being to a beautiful psychic with dyed hair, a fake accent, and a blue crystal ball. Especially when the Queen of Hell has a target on your back and might pop in without notice.

  With one eye on Madame Mia and the other shut tight as instructed, I waited for the next move when suddenly she opened both eyes, grasped the blue sphere in her hands, and gazed intently at the blue ball.

  “The undercurrent stirs.”

  “Can you see Lilith?” I leaned forward, intrigued by this new paranormal device. Not that I’d myself ever indulge in crystal gazing or scrying as Madame Mia had called it.

  “No, a woman in a blood-stained wedding gown. She’s crying.”

  I sat up straight. “It must be Deena—she’s getting married this Saturday! Scarlett said Mama’s departure date was scheduled for the seventeenth. Can you tell me how it happens? How I can stop it?” Ice ran through my veins.

  “One can’t alter the future, Jolene. Surely, you realize that destiny can’t be changed?”

  I let out a long exasperated breath. “That may be true, Madame Mia, but I aim to try. Now concentrate and tell me what you see. Is it Mama’s blood?” Outside a dog barked in the distance, and a car roared down the street.

  She paused, then lifted woeful eyes to peer across the table at me. I tensed.

  “No, it’s not your mother’s blood I see, Jolene. It’s yours.”

  ****

  I drove home in a stupor. I’d pulled over once by the Quickie Mart, afraid that I might be sick, and bought a soft drink to settle my stomach. Later, when I finally parked my Mustang in the carport and killed the engine, a little shiver ran down my spine. For a moment I just sat there wondering how I’d made it home in one piece with Madame Mia’s prediction still ringing in my ears. When I tried to open the driver’s door, my arms felt like anchors, and my eyes like the sandy Georgia coastline after a Cat 5 hurricane had blown through.

  Inside, I dumped my shoulder bag on the kitchen table and dug the step stool out of the walk-in pantry and butted it against the cabinets beside the refrigerator. With one hand I shooed Tango off the clean counters and opened the top cabinet where I kept the hard stuff. Finding what I was searching for, I pulled the bottle of Tequila from the cupboard and set it down on the counter. From the frig, I found an old lime and sliced it, then downed two shots of Tequila before succumbing to Tango’s yowls for food and filling his bowl with kitty crunch.

  Numb with shock and disbelief, I took the bottle of liquor and the lime and settled down at the kitchen table and poured another shot. I downed it and immediately poured another. The fourth shot kicked in, and I felt my world settle into a nice warm, fuzzy cocoon. Kicking off my boots and socks, I stumbled into the den and slipped a jazz CD into the Bose stereo and settled back into the music to forget my troubles. Content with the mesmerizing vocals of the blues King and the liquor streaming through my bloodstream, I felt my eyelids grow heavy.

  I awoke to the sound of rapping at the back kitchen door. Startled by the interruption, I popped up from the recliner and staggered dizzily to my feet and almost landed on my ass. Holding onto the recliner until the room stopped spinning, I tasted a backflush of lime and tequila. I gagged but managed to swallow back my last shot. It felt like I’d just fallen asleep minutes before, but the inky blackness of night let me know several hours had passed.

  “Wait a minute,” I called out as the banging mimicked my throbbing temples. “Hang on, I’m coming.”

  I switched on the overhead light as I entered the kitchen and hurried to the back door to turn on the outside porch light. Illuminated by the bright light, Preston stood on the bottom step with his stethoscope looped over his neck and a crooked smile plastered on his young, silly face.

  “Oh, geez, why can’t I go celibate,” I groaned through the hangover, remembering our earlier plans to meet up after his hospital rounds, and sent up a silent prayer for a small sinkhole to swallow my amorous admirer and relieve me of the chore of a quick lay—because that’s what it would be—a quickie. I was in no mood for sex or even company for that matter. Things were falling apart fast, and I needed to put the pieces together myself. Madame Mia hadn’t been much help today but promised to keep her eyes and ears open for any word or sign from the Other Side. As I was leaving her house, she’d cautioned me to stay away from Lilith until she could consult with her friend, who happened to be a demonologist, from Angel Falls, Idaho.

  I was tempted to turn out the light and leave him standing on the doorstep in the dark, but I gave into my good nature and opened the door. Preston took two leaping steps, swept me into his arms and squeezed my tushie. His mouth crashed down on mine, and he sucked my tongue deep into his mouth. All thoughts of resistance took a hike in the heat and pleasure of the moment, and I melted against him.

  His lips left mine. “You taste like lime and tequila,” he whispered into my ear, “and I suspect you’re a little drunk. I hate to renege on a promise, but I have to consult with another doctor on a complicated procedure scheduled for tomorrow morning. I can’t stay and play with you.”

  Tango yowled from beneath the table before scrambling for the den. I was just about to protest Preston leaving when Scarlett’s unmistakable voice whispered in my other ear, “Ditch the dude, girlfriend. I’ve got important news from Heaven.”

  That was all the incentive I needed, so I smacked Preston on the butt and sent him on his way. After locking the door behind him, I shut off the porch light and turned to face Scarlett who was enviously eyeing the lime and tequila bottle.

  “That’s another earthly enjoyment I really miss.” Her sigh echoed through the kitchen. “What I would give for one shot of the good stuff. Tie one on just one last time. Lucky you, girlfriend.” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

  I massaged my throbbing temples and went over to the window sill and grabbed the bottle of aspirin. “Be thankful you’re not in my shoes, Scarlett. I had one too many.” From the faucet, I filled a glass with water and downed the pills. “Now tell me
the good news from above. I sure could use some right about now. You wouldn’t believe what Madame Mia saw in her crystal ball. About me, I mean.”

  Still focused on the bottle and lime, Scarlett hardly paid me any mind. Taking pity on her, I poured another shot and offered her the glass. “Go ahead and do it so we can get back to my problem. I’m sure it can’t do you any harm, you know, since you’re dead and all that.”

  Scarlett shifted her gaze to me, then back down at the shot glass. “I’m tempted, but it’s strictly forbidden. If the Boss finds out I’ve taken a drink…well…well, it won’t be good, believe me.”

  I shrugged. “So don’t then.” I placed the shot glass on the table and plopped down on one of the chairs. “Okay, Preston’s gone, and I’m listening. What’s the important news from Heaven? Have they removed Mama’s name from the list?”

  “No,” she answered, her eyes never leaving the shot glass. She fingered the glass. “She’s still scheduled to arrive on the seventeenth.”

  “So nothing’s changed?”

  “Not with your mother.” She picked up the glass and sniffed the liquor. “But the Boss has dispatched his finest team of specialists to scope out Whiskey Creek and find out what’s up with Lilith.”

  “I could fill him in if you’ll get him down here.”

  She removed her glasses. “Impossible. The Boss never leaves his post. He’ll know what to do about Lilith. Problem solved.” She finally looked up at me. “Do you suppose I could?”

  I nodded. “Nothing’s stopping you.”

  “Here’s to you.” She downed the liquor, sucked the lime slice, and made happy noises. “Damn, that’s good. I believe I’ll apply for another lifetime. If accepted, I’m coming back as me again.”

  I let that comment slide. “Is that all you have?” I asked, disappointed with her important news that was really no help at all in the scheme of things.