Bein' Dead Ain't No Excuse Read online

  Scarlett held out the glass for more. “I told you help is here, what more do you want?”

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

  “One more for the road.” She hiccupped.

  I tipped the bottle over the glass, filling it to the brim. “You really shouldn’t drink and drive, Scarlett—even a heavenly Harley.”

  She downed the shot. “I’m not on my Harley. It’s in the shop for a new paint job. I caught the ten o’clock shuttle on the Galaxy Express. They dropped me off on the roof. Like Santa.”

  I almost whipped back a quick “Stop bullshitting me” but decided she might not appreciate me pointing out the lunacy of her statement. Instead, I motioned with the bottle that I’d be happy to pour her another shot.

  She took me up on my offer, and I refilled the glass.

  “Here’s to Deena and the dumbass finally tying the knot.” She lifted the glass in a salute, downed it, and then slammed the glass down on the table. Her eyes glazed over. “Oh, I believe I’m forgetting something.”

  Her words were slightly slurred, but I jumped on that tiny bit of hope. “Think, Scarlett. It could be the wooden stake I use to pierce Lilith’s slimy heart.”

  Her eyes crossed as her spirit wavered. “A name…the angel…” she hiccupped. “…uh, assigned to escort your…mother home.” The slurring became more pronounced.

  Hot damn! Satisfaction slammed into me. Finally, some forward movement. “Tell me, Scarlett,” I shouted. “Tell me the damn name.”

  Hiccup. “Sonya.”

  “More, Scarlett! I need more than a first name!”

  “Jones.”

  “The wedding singer? Holy crap!” Stunned, I bolted from my chair and began pacing the kitchen. “Deena hired the hit woman? To sing at her wedding, and then when no one is looking, murder our mother? Oh, dear God, what has she done? And the better question is how am I going to stop Sonya Jones with doomsday closing in?” I grew more worried by the second. “Any suggestions?”

  “There’s no…stopping Sonya…Jones, girlfriend…she’s the best…Heaven has.”

  I stopped in my tracks and turned to face her. “So this is it? Saturday’s Mama’s last day with us? There’s nothing else for me to do?”

  She shrugged her shoulders and gave me a lopsided smile. “As I’ve said…before, you can’t stop a Death Angel. Especially…this one.”

  I moved to the counter and started a pot of coffee to sober her up. I now had a new direction to explore, and Scarlett was my only connection to Heaven’s top assassin. I glanced at the clock. Ten o’clock. Hmm. Only twelve hours until our meeting with the wedding planner and Sonya Jones at the church. Twelve hours wasn’t a lot of time to put together a plan, but that’s all I had to work with, and I’d be damned if I’d stop now. I reached into the cabinet and pulled down two coffee mugs. It was gonna be a long night.

  Chapter Nine

  Earth Angel

  The First Baptist Church of Whiskey Creek sat just off Main Street in the middle of town and occupied almost half a block. Surrounded by small shops and cafés and a lush green lawn, the red brick building stood out like the crown jewel it was designed to be. The Baptists were the largest denomination in town and extremely proud of their accomplishment.

  Mama parked her Cadillac SUV beside a Ford F150 and an old yellow Volkswagen Beetle, and we all climbed out and headed inside. In the lobby, we heard female voices coming from the sanctuary, so we followed the sounds.

  A tall, willowy brunette turned at our entrance. “Deena, darling, I’m so glad you’re on time,” the woman gushed in a high-pitched sugary tone. “Not long until the big day, and we have so much to finalize before the wedding rehearsal on Friday evening.” She turned and laid a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “And this morning, Sonya will go through the songs you and Ryder picked out.”

  Deena brown eyes sparkled like diamonds. “Oh, Cheryl, do you think we’ll get it all done? And I’m so excited to finally meet and hear the famed Sonya Jones.”

  Mama and Billie Jo sank down on the first-row pew. Their faces wreathed in matching smiles. I, on the other hand, turned my psychic radar on full blast and swept my gaze over the woman standing next to Cheryl and felt, well, nothing. Not a twinge of the supernatural. Not a smidgen of the divine came from the petite, older woman in the Christmas red, fitted suit with a skirt just below the knees and matching pumps. Her vintage velvet pillbox hat, with a little fluff and feathers, sat atop freshly coffered silver-streaked ebony curls, and her chocolate brown eyes met mine with amusement.

  She was more like Mrs. Santa Claus than Heaven’s deadliest assassin. Scarlett had gotten it wrong. Dead wrong. I would bet my life on it. Sonya Jones was an angel all right—an earth angel. Sweet and angelical. The perfect Southern lady, and not prone to acts of violence. Satisfied with my conclusions, I turned my back on the woman and sat down on the pew next to Mama and Billie Jo.

  Cheryl clasped her hands together. “However, before we get started there is some alarming news I need to share with you.”

  Deena’s eyes went wide with alarm. “Oh, dear God, please not another problem.”

  Cheryl laid a soothing hand on Deena’s arm. “Don’t panic, but the bakery burned down early this morning.”

  “My wedding cake!” Deena let out a terrifying screech that had us on our feet. She burst into tears, and we bustled over to her side. Mama gathered her in her arms and started cooing like a turtledove. I looked up just in time to see Pastor Inman bust through the side door, his face twisted with horror.

  “What’s going on in here? I thought…no…I heard a woman scream,” he explained.

  “Damn right, you did.” Deena’s flushed face matched her red lipstick. “It was me—my wedding cake went up in smoke!” She burst into fresh tears, and Mama drew her tight against her breast, and said, “Hush now, we’ll get another cake for the wedding. Jolene will see to it.” She gave me the eye over Deena’s shoulder.

  I bit my lower lip to keep a straight face. How the hell did Mama think I would be able to pull off such a stunt before Saturday? One couldn’t order, and have delivered in six days, a three-layer wedding cake worth eating, not in this small town. We only had two bakeries, and one just went up in flames. However, I deemed it wise to keep my thoughts to myself. At least until Mama and I were alone.

  Cheryl heaved a sigh. “This is all my fault, Deena. I should’ve said right away that I’ve lined up a cake tasting for one o’clock today. Al, over at Al’s Baked Goods, said he can have the cake delivered on Saturday if you choose the flavor today. I’m doing everything in my power to make sure you have the perfect wedding. Trust me.”

  I struggled not to roll my eyes. Billie Jo looked doubtful, but like me, kept her opinions to herself. The less said, the better. We were all stressed out with the wedding preparations and Mama’s particular predicament. Which reminded me…yep, Sonya Jones hadn’t moved a muscle. Amusement still shone out of those perky brown eyes. I slid my gaze back to my sister.

  Deena lifted her head. Her eyes met mine. Tears edged down her cheeks, streaking the perfect makeup. “You’re coming with me, right, Jolene? Ryder had to fly to Atlanta for business and to make travel arrangements for his parents. He won’t be back until tomorrow night.”

  I nodded. “Of course. We’ll all come.”

  Mama and Billie Jo both agreed, and she sighed in relief. “You’re the best,” she said and sank down on the front pew. Pastor Inman excused himself and disappeared back through the side door. With all eyes on her, Cheryl directed Sonya to take her place where the flower-draped trellis would be positioned for the ceremony and hit the play button on the portable CD player.

  With a full piece orchestra providing the background, Sonya began to sing Ave Maria. Tears gathered in my eyes as I was swept away by the pure magic of her soprano voice and angelic expression. Beside me, Deena squeezed my hand and released a dreamy sigh as she allowed the music to sweep away her worries. She was getting married t
o the man she loved, and that was all that mattered. For me, the world remained balanced on my shoulders, and, in six days, unless I could stop it, my world would come crashing down.

  ****

  As we stepped through the double glass doors of Al’s Baked Goods, I did a quick radar sweep of the building for any troublemaking spirits, namely, Lilith and any of her hellish cohorts out for some fun at my expense. Thankfully, the place was clean of the undead, and Lilith had been absent in both body and spirit. Sonya Jones, I dismissed completely. She was too grandmotherly to be a threat to anyone.

  A few people were waiting at the counter, and I recognized a long-time client placing an order for a dozen triple chocolate cupcakes and three dozen frosted sugar cookies. She waved at me when she exited the store with her young daughter, and the next customer in line gave his order to the girl in a white apron standing behind the pristine countertop.

  The glass display case which ran almost the entire length of the room was filled with cakes, cookies, donuts, and every kind of sweet pastry to appease even the pickiest sweet tooth. Colorful posters of birthday, wedding, and special occasion cakes lined the pristine white walls. The timeworn wooden floors were dented and scuffed but polished clean. Café-styled tables topped with red and white checkered tablecloths had been strategically placed around the cozy room to avoid overcrowding. The place was a sensory overload with the aroma of pastries and baking bread filling the air. I inhaled a sweet-scented breath and imagined myself biting into a slice of fresh bread slathered with real butter.

  Deena pointed to a corner table. “You guys have a seat, and I’ll let the girl know we’re here to see Al.”

  Billie Jo, Mama, and I did as instructed and settled down at the table. Billie Jo kept eyeing the glass display case with interest.

  “Would you like me to fetch you something sweet, Billie Jo?” I started to rise, but she waved me down.

  “That’s why I agreed to come, Jolene.” She patted her stomach. “For the baby. He’s thrilled to taste a sampling of wedding cakes.” She rubbed her hands together with anticipation.

  I quirked a brow. “So you and Roddy have decided it’s a boy?”

  “Of course, it’s a boy.” Mama reached over and patted Billie Jo’s stomach. “Raleigh Tucker Hazard. A good solid Southern name for my grandson.”

  “What if it’s a girl?” I teased. Lilith had predicted a boy, but I still wasn’t trusting her to tell the truth about anything.

  “It’s not,” Billie Jo said with confidence. “Call it intuition, but somehow I know I’m carrying a boy. Roddy and Lynette both want a Georgia Bulldog themed nursery since that’s where Lynette is going after graduation, but I’d like a Winnie the Pooh themed room. Besides, he may not attend the University of Georgia like his sister.”

  “Bite your tongue,” Mama said with a grin. “The Dawgs rule.”

  Deena halted any further discussion when she returned to the table and took her seat. She glanced down at her watch for about the tenth time since arriving. Immediately, Al Butterfield came rushing from the back room over to our table.

  Smiling, he said in a deep baritone voice, “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. We’ve been slammed since Twinkle Toes burned down this morning. But never mind, who is the bride-to-be in need of a wedding cake?”

  I did a double take at the man, and his amazing, sexy voice, and nudged Mama who flanked me on one side.

  Al Butterfield was bald, heavyset, and tall, about six-foot-three-inches with a large solitaire diamond earring in one droopy earlobe. He wore white…everything. Sparkling white pants, shirt, shoes, and jacket. The only thing missing was the clichéd baker’s hat, and I briefly wondered if he had a platoon of baker elves stashed in the back because it appeared that he never lifted anything heavier than a wooden spoon.

  “I’m the bride,” Deena pronounced with a buttload of pride in her voice. “And these ladies are my mother and sisters.”

  Al’s eyes settled on my chest. Oh, I should mention that in my hurry this morning, I’d thrown on a tight, long sleeve denim dress with a plunging V neckline that displayed my abundant cleavage. Mama shot him a hard look and cleared her throat.

  Al flushed and swung his gaze back to Deena. “Can you tell me what you have in mind for your cake?”

  “We decided to go with the traditional three-layer cake and would love your suggestions for the filling. My original cake had lemon curd and raspberry filling with a vanilla buttercream icing.”

  He bobbed his head eagerly. “That’s an excellent choice and easy to replicate in the time frame. However, I do recommend you try the different flavor combinations I’ve prepared for you. My fall brides usually choose an autumnal theme such as apple cake or carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. Does this sound like something you would be interested in?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Billie Jo said. “I hope you have prepared something in chocolate.”

  Al glanced at Billie Jo, then back at Deena. “Most of my brides shy away from chocolate wedding cake this time of the year, but I can do a chocolate mousse filling with a white sponge cake and white chocolate ganache frosting.”

  Billie Jo’s eyes gleamed, and I swear she licked her lips. “Please tell me you have one of those ready for us to taste.”

  A rush of endorphins flooded my bloodstream, and I laughed out loud at the adorable, gluttonous expression on her pixie face. Being pregnant is the only time in a woman’s young life that she can eat whatever she wants and get away with it. And since weight had never been an issue for her, I relished the idea of her feeding her chocolate addiction at today’s cake tasting. Just for my baby sister, and in spite of the season, I would cast my vote for a chocolate wedding cake.

  Al nodded his head at Billie Jo. “Yes, I have included chocolate in my selections. I’ll be back with the first sampling.” He waited for Deena’s nod of approval, then turned on his heel and scurried off in the direction of the swinging doors behind the display case.

  Deena’s frown deepened. “I understand your love of chocolate, Billie Jo, and I sympathize with your cravings. However, Ryder despises chocolate so we won’t be having a chocolate wedding cake no matter what, understand?”

  I felt a flash of irritation at Deena’s hurtful tone, but quickly dashed it as Mama’s expression instantly changed to one I remembered well from my childhood.

  “I’ll buy you a whole chocolate cake before we leave, sweetie pie,” she said, patting Billie Jo’s hand. “My grandson can have anything he wants.” Here she turned and smiled at Deena. “And you can eat sour lemons to match your mood, my dear.”

  A wash of color suffused her face. “It’s my wedding, Mama! I’m a teensy overwrought and snappy. I’m sorry if I sound like a shrew.”

  My danger radar beeped out a stern warning just before the front door of the bakery opened, jingling the bells above it, and Lilith Lacewell strolled in looking like she just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. (I don’t read them, but Deena leaves them lying around her office, and I’ve fingered through a time or two out of sheer boredom.) Lilith’s dark eyes swept the room, then settled on us. A wide smile broke on her face, and I was instantly on my guard as she glided across the space between us.

  “Well, glory be,” she said, in a satisfied tone as she stood over our table. “Imagine running into you gals. I thought you’d be busy with last minute wedding preparations.”

  “That’s exactly what we’re doing,” Deena replied with an expectant glance at the swinging doors. “A last-minute emergency with my wedding cake. Twinkle Toes Bakery burned down this morning. That’s why we’re here. Wedding cake tasting.”

  “How dreadful for you, my dear.” The voice was sweet. Too sweet. I narrowed my eyes and zeroed in on the snake gazing at us through lazy half-closed lids. She was up to something for sure. Why else would she be here? Coincidence? Hardly. Lilith Lacewell was out for blood—Mama’s blood and my soul. But she had another thing coming if she thought I was going down easy. No
sirree. I’d fight till my last dying breath.

  Which might be today. Taking no chances, I made the sign of the cross over my chest and ignored Mama’s quizzical glance as my danger meter zapped me with another jolt of electricity as the vibrational frequency shifted north. A buzzing set up in my bones and my peripheral vision shimmered with pulsating silver light. I shook my head to dispel the odd sensation to no avail. The bell over the door jangled, and I glanced over as Sonya Jones pushed through the door and waved a cheery hello in our direction.

  From the back room, Al swung through the swinging doors with a tray of wedding cake slices. He gave Lilith a quick glance, then placed a plate in front of Deena, Billie Jo, and Mama, before seemingly changing his mind and shifting the plate in front of me.

  The atmosphere crackled as Billie Jo lifted a forkful of cake to her mouth.

  Lilith’s full lips thinned into a sneer. “Well, I’ll leave you ladies to your tasting and run along back to the salon. So much to do before my opening,” she intoned, as Deena dipped her fork into the sample.

  Deena waved her off and slipped a bite of chocolate cake into her mouth. Billie Jo mumbled happily, and she took another bite. Her eyes rolled heavenward, and Mama and I exchanged a smile at her obvious delight. Mama tasted the cake on the only plate left and gave me a thumbs up, and I picked up my fork. Lilith’s presence had unsettled me and stolen my appetite. Then add in Sonya’s unexpected appearance, and I was perched on the edge of paranoia. However, for the sake of family unity and forestalling any drama from Deena, I scooped up a bite of chocolate cake onto my fork and hesitated as my mind replayed Al’s odd behavior.

  The slice of cake on the table before me had initially been placed in front of Mama, but Al, after a quick glance at Lilith, had shifted the plate over to me. Why? Was he in cahoots with the powers of evil? Or had the switch merely been a coincidence? The later was most likely true; however, I was taking no chances with my life. With a subtle move of hand that would be perceived as accidental, I swept the plate off the table and onto the floor.