Medium in Paradise: A Humorous Paradise Romance (5 page)

“No, there were definitely two distinct female voices in here. Yours and the other woman. She sounded awfully familiar…” he said, trailing off with a slight frown. He dried his hands on a couple of paper towels, wadding them up and tossing them in the garbage, his face filled with the suspicion of a cop rooting out a lie. Still looking at her, he began rapidly opening the stalls until he’d gone through all four save the one he’d been in. “I
know
I heard another voice.” He was mystified, peering around as though this other woman would just appear out of thin air. Hell, maybe she would.

“No, it was just me.” Her words lacked conviction, but before he could ask any further questions, she rushed the conversation to the end. “I have somewhere I need to be, sooo byyeee!” Wiggling her fingers like a reality star moron, she finally managed to make her escape.

Looking at the old school, large-faced clock in the hallway, she saw that she was seven minutes late to a meeting she’d never wanted to have. Fantastic, now she’d look unprofessional.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the chief’s door, hoping nothing else went wrong.

**

“I look forward to seeing you next Monday, Ms. Douglass.” Chief Childress smiled as he stood up and walked around his desk, grabbing her hand and pumping it enthusiastically, his sharp blue eyes twinkling as she rose from her chair. A tall, solidly built man with a barrel of a chest and a thick, hearty laugh, he had a habit of running his fingers through the thinning hair atop his glossy pate. He’d also taken far more notice than she would’ve preferred of her legs, and oddly enough, her feet.

“Me too. And I’ll make sure to send over that schedule no later than Wednesday.” Dina moved back, trying to put some space between she and the captain who was of the ‘close-talker’ variety of folk.

“And you’re sure it won’t be a problem squeezing us into your classes? Being a celebrity and all, I’m surprised your classes aren’t completely booked up.” He looked down at her, his face so close to her own, the breath leaving his open mouth made her hair sway rhythmically around her temples. She stepped back again and he shifted slightly forward. Alright, it was time to make a quick exit.

“They’re full now,” she said with a nervous laugh. She shifted restlessly on her feet, trying to find a way to wrap this too long conversation up. “I’m excited about this opportunity. See you on Monday.” She made a grab for the doorknob, rolling her eyes when the persistently friendly captain followed her out into the hallway, his eyes darting up and down her shapely figure, his gaze landing on her feet, then guiltily meandering their way back to her rapidly cooling eyes.

“Ahh—Detective Nichols,” he hailed over her head. “Come over and meet the woman that’ll be whipping us into shape over the next few months.”

She turned her head, frowning in consternation as the Man from the Bathroom ambled toward them, his dark eyes amused.

Detective
Nichols
? As in
the
Barney Nichols, Sam the Ghost’s fiancé? Perhaps there was more than one Detective Nichols in the police department, she thought with a sinking feeling. It was a hopeful thought, but one she couldn’t quite convince herself was true. Could she be so unlucky? The answer was: yes, of course she could. But on the bright side, while it hadn’t exactly been the way she’d planned to make her introductions, maybe recusing herself from this preposterous mission would be that much easier.

“I do believe we’ve already met,” he drawled, mockingly.

“You two know each other?” Captain Childress asked curiously, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“In a sense.” The detective looked at her, then grinned slyly, his teeth a white flash against his reddish-brown skin. “We sort of bumped into one another unexpectedly. But I never caught her name.”

“Dina Douglass.” She stuck her hand out and he shook it, his grip strong and confident.

“Detective Barney Nichols. Nice to finally know your name.”

“I already know yours,” she muttered beneath her breath.

“Pardon me?” he said,

“I said it’s nice to meet you,” she said, raising her voice and smiling.

“Umm-hmm,” he said, his eyes narrowing, his expression telling her he didn’t quite know what to make of her.

“Dina here will be the exercise coordinator for our new fitness initiative. As you see, Detective Nichols here is one of the reasons we decided we needed a fitness initiative to begin with.” The captain took it upon himself to rub the detective’s rounded belly as though he were a Buddha statue. “A few too many coffee and doughnuts and everything in between.” The captain chortled heartily, clapping the detective on the back.

“I will certainly be taking part,” Detective Nichols muttered with a tight, controlled smile. He shifted self-consciously and stood up straighter in a futile attempt to make his stomach disappear.

“Also, she’s a bit of a celebrity around here so we’re lucky to have even snagged.”

“Anything for our local law enforcement,” Dina demurred. “You guys do so much for us it’s nice to be able to return the favor.”

“A celebrity, huh?”

“It’s not really a big deal. Just an exercise video that I debuted a few months ago.” Though she knew she should be pushing the video any opportunity she got, she was loathe to do so, her natural personality that of a person who preferred the focus be on someone or something else.

“So then you’re semi-famous?” He crossed his arms, peering down at her with an expression that had gone from curious to disdainful.

“Not really. No. What—you have something against celebrities?” Now she was the one standing up straighter, her chin lifted in a challenge.

“I find that they can be flighty…and unreliable.”

“So you have experience with celebrities? Personal experience?”

“Celebrities and semi-celebrities alike. They come out to the island and expect to be waited on hand and foot. They think the police department is their own personal security firm. They’re a real pain in the ass,” he stated, his tone blunt and straightforward.

“Good to know how you really feel,” she said, sarcastically.

“Anyway, nice to meet you.” With a curt nod of his head he strode off.

Before he was out of earshot Dina raised her voice, saying, “I hope you’re ready for Monday ‘cause after I’m done with you you’ll have more than one reason to hate this
semi
-celebrity,” her tone sweet and threatening. She was rewarded with a slant-eyed scowl just before he disappeared from view.

“Sorry about that.” Captain Childress stared after the detective confused. “He’s normally a pretty mild guy. Maybe he’s having a bad week…”

Or maybe he’s feeling a little touchy because you rubbed his belly like a fortune teller’s crystal ball
, Dina thought.

Out loud she said, “No problem. The detective is probably just nervous about what I’m about to put him through.”

The drive over to the exercise studios she leased was less than a thirty minute drive from the police department. Sam the Ghost was mysteriously absent. Good for her because she would’ve gotten a royal piece of her mind.

Pulling into a parking space behind the building, she took out her keys and opened the rear door. Walking down a short, brightly lit hallway that branched off into other parts of the building, she made a quick right and was in front of her office door. Opening it, she stepped into a small, cramped space, then dropped her purse on a chair and quickly changed into her favorite pair of tennis shoes and an outfit from the exercise gear she always kept in an old-school gym locker she’d purchased at an auction. Brewing a cup of coffee from the single cup brewer, she gulped it down alongside a protein bar, needing the surge of energy it provided for the long day ahead. After giving her hair a quick pat down, she locked the office behind her and walked to the end of the hall, pushing the door open that lead into the main part of the building.

There were two open exercise studios, each with glossy bamboo floors, high, wood beamed ceilings and floor to ceiling plate glass windows which allowed potential clients to look inside at classes in session. A spinning room brimming with more than a dozen bikes, a compact weight room and a modest locker room rounded out the facility.

Lila, one of her two assistants, was just finishing up with one of the two classes she’d subbed on Dina’s behalf. After having been with Dina from the first day the doors opened, she was well on her way to being ready to lead most of her own classes. It was a day Dina looked forward to simply because it would allow her to slow down and focus on marketing her video a bit more vigorously.

After leading the class through a five minute cool down, students streamed out in a humid, sweaty mass, chattering in groups of twos and threes. When there was a break in the crowd, Dina slipped inside, walking over to talk with Lila.

“How’d everything go?”

“Great! No trouble at all. I could’ve been you,” she said, grinning playfully. Her dimples turned her cute dark-brown face into a baby doll façade, replete with Shirley Temple curls pulled back into a long ponytail. Of course, Shirley Temple hadn’t had lavender colored dreadlocks, multiple tattoos and been African-American, but pretty much the same difference.

“I’m glad to hear it. You’re great though, you know that.” Lila beamed with pride. “I was thinking you’re probably ready to take on more classes. What do you say?”

“I say hell yeah! When do I start and where do I sign?” She was nearly jumping with joy, having waited for this day ever since she’d gotten her personal training and group exercise training certification several months earlier, she’d been gunning for her own class.

“You already have. You can take over the 7am, 9am and 11am classes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday’s. My only advice is that you stick to the current exercise programs for the time being. But you can gradually start changing it to your style in the next couple of weeks, with a warning, of course, to your students. We’ll fill out the paperwork a little later.”

“I’m not a morning gal but you know I’ll make it work,” she sang, still dancing.

The remainder of the day she was busy with her classes, paperwork and a long winded conversation with her agent. Throughout the day she found herself distracted by thoughts of Sam the Ghost and Detective Barney Nichols.

As she was packing up and heading to her class at the community center, she suddenly realized she hadn’t thought of Anthony even once.

**

“You could’ve warned me, you know.”

She felt more than saw Sam the Ghost’s presence hovering in the hallway leading into the rear of the house. Dina had been sitting, flipping the television aimlessly from one network to the next and snacking on a bowl of butter-less popcorn. After her long day, she’d been too tired to cook, desiring instead to sink on the couch into the oblivion that television offered. “That was a pretty sucky way to meet Detective Barney Nichols.”

“How was I supposed to know he’d be in there?” Sam floated into view wearing a filmy nightgown that didn’t leave nearly enough to the imagination.

“Could you put something else on please?” she grimaced. “This isn’t the Playboy Mansion and I ain’t interested in girls.”

“Such a prude. There—is that better?” She transformed her outfit into a turn of the century stiff flannel nightgown, the formidable lace collar so high up her throat it looked as if it might suffocate her.

“Much,” she commented, nodding approvingly. “I would’ve expected you to know he was in the bathroom the same way you know everything else.”

“I don’t know everything.”

“It sure seems like it from where I’m sitting. Now Detective Nichol’s is going to think I’m some sort of men’s bathroom stalking weirdo who talks to herself.”

“He’s not that judgmental.”

“He said he hated celebrities. Sounds pretty judgmental to me.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing you’re not really a celebrity.”

“Humph!”

“What?” she asked with an innocent shrug. “You’re not…
really
.”

“Anyway,” Dina continued, once again annoyed, but not really knowing why. It wasn’t as if what Sam said wasn’t true. It was just that her pointing out the truth was really irritating. “He seems like a…challenging man.”

“Just give him half a chance,” she said, soothingly. “You’ll see how sweet he is.” A wistful smile was on her face.

“I seriously doubt it. Is he Native American?” Dina asked, as Sam floated down, assuming the lotus position, obviously a favorite pose for this ghost.

“A good bit. But then, so am I,” Sam said, proudly.

“You don’t look it,” Dina scoffed, perusing her features. “All I see is a good ol’ southern gal with European roots.”

“I’m more than meets the eye. I did one of those reverse ancestry profiles before I was killed and discovered that my great-great-great-great grandmother was one quarter Delaware.”

“So you have a drop of the Red Man in your blood?” Dina cocked an eyebrow in her direction, popping another piece of dry popcorn in her mouth and fantasizing that it was slathered in butter.

“It’s not a lot, but it gives me an exotic edge. At least that’s what people told me.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m trying to watch TV here.”

“What are
you
anyway?”

“Why?”

“I’m just curious, is all.”

“Does it matter?” she asked, grumpily.

“Not really. I’m just nosy, is all.”

“I’m a patchwork quilt. I like to say that my family is the platypus of the south.” Sam continued to look at her inquiringly until she heaved a sigh, thumping the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. “If you must know, I’m more black than Indian and more Indian than white. In other words: American.”

“It all came together beautifully. You’d look great in my designs.” Cocking her head to the side, she studied her, eyes narrowed in contemplation. “If you were a little bit taller you could’ve been a model.”

“No thanks. I don’t care for being the center of attention.”

“And yet you just made an exercise video.”

“That’s different. What I do isn’t about vanity.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well…maybe a little,” she admitted grudgingly.

“You don’t get to look like you do without a little vanity being involved.”

“Ok then, maybe a lot,” she admitted with a spontaneous laugh.

“Look at that, I made you laugh,” she said, smiling.

“Even a bad comedian can make me laugh once,” she muttered.

They watched television in companionable silence for a while, each laughing through a couple reruns of
Seinfeld
. “You and Detective Nichols seem like complete opposites. He seems so low key and no frills and you…are you.”

“We were opposites,” she said with another one of those wistful smiles. “But we complemented one another. Being with him was so easy. No complications. He did everything he could to please me and make me happy. But…” her voice trailed off, her face contorting as though she was about to cry.

“But what?”

“I’m tired. Goodnight.”

She abruptly disappeared, the suddenness of her departure creating a spectral wind in her wake and leaving Dina wondering just what it was the ghost had been about to say.

**

“So how’d everything go today?”

“Hmmm? I’d like a piece of apple pie with an extra scoop of ice cream,” Dina sleepily mumbled, rolling over and smiling with anticipation.

“Dina, wake up! I said how’d everything go today?”

“Mom—do you know what time it is?” Dina asked, groggily waking from being on the verge of a decadent forkful of apple pie à la mode and sitting up crabbily. Her bedside clock said it was 11:47pm.

“Yes, I do,” she said. The sound of wind and low music carried over the cellphone connection. “But you know I keep long hours and you’re young so I figured you’d still be up.”

“Yeah? Well, you’d be wrong. These days I’m in bed by 10.” Shifting to her side, the glow of a nearly full moon, fat and complacently sitting in the clear night sky, shone through the gaps in the curtains, the lonely call of some night dwelling bird lingering on the still night air.

“I’ll make it quick then. I’m assuming all went well today?”

“It went. Though I wouldn’t call it ‘going well’.” Quickly filling her in on the details, she ended with, “Sam just disappeared on me tonight. We were talking about her ex and I guess she got emotional or something.”

“What’d you ask her?”

“I just mentioned how different she and Detective Nichols seemed and she started to respond, then got all upset and vanished.”

“Hmmm…interesting.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“So…”

“So what, Mom?” she asked dryly, knowing what she was about to ask.

“So, is he good-looking?”

“He’s okay,” she said, slowly, her thoughts about the detective still mostly unformed. He
did
have those great eyes though. They were like deep, dark pools a girl could get lost in. Dina frowned, not exactly happy with the decidedly poetic turn her thoughts had taken in regards to a man she didn’t want anything to do with. “I don’t know if I’d call him good-looking exactly. Unusual looking is a better description. He looks like he’s got a good amount of Indian in him.”

“Indian, sweetie? They’re called
Native American
. That’s the socially acceptable label,” her mother chastised, tongue clucking.

“Being that neither one of them are descriptive labels they gave themselves, I use Indian and Native American interchangeably, figuring they wouldn’t give a damn either way.”

“Anyway…” Her mother changed the subject like she always did when she couldn’t win an argument. “Unusual is good. I like that better than good-looking. Adds a little something interesting to the mix.”

“All I need added to this mix is a way out,” Dina muttered.

“Look, why not look at this as an adventure? You never know, Dina, this man could end up being the love of your life.”