Our Red Hot Romance Is Leaving Me Blue (20 page)

D
uring the remainder of the drive to Odessa, Sophia stared out the passenger window, pretending to take in the view, though there was little to see. Self-doubt and sweaty-palmed fear consumed her. She had never undertaken a séance alone and now her first had grown to five participants.

She knew from her grandmother that the more parties involved, the greater the likelihood that an uninvited visitor from the other side might drop in. She had seen her grandmother, a seasoned mentalist, handle this congestion of souls many times. Working like a traffic cop at rush hour, Gran Bella had been capable of moving spirits around to avoid conflict. Sophia was only too aware that she was anything
but seasoned, too aware that she was as much a virgin in this situation as a sixteen-year-old whose first date was the prom.

She was disturbed that a spirit had already used her as a vessel earlier today in Justin’s barn and she hadn’t even seen or felt it coming. The normal forewarnings—facial numbness, eye twitching, a drop in temperature—hadn’t assailed her. The last thing she had remembered was taking the reins of the horse and stroking its neck. The next thing she knew she was sprawled on the ground at Justin’s feet, with him glaring down at her with an expression of horror, stammering, Y
ou kissed…who kissed…

Sophia didn’t even remember kissing him. His deceased wife’s spirit must have taken over her body. What pain experiencing a manifestation of Rachel in a stranger’s body must have inflicted on Justin. Fortunately, he had snapped back to reality. To cause that, she, Sophia, must have said something she didn’t remember saying. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she pled,
Gran Bella, I need your help tonight. Be strong when I am not. Help me maintain control.

The pickup’s slowing caused her to open her eyes again and she saw they were entering the parking lot of her hotel. Justin parked nose-in across the lot from the entrance.

“I’ll walk in with you,” he said, “in case you have someone waiting for you in your room again.”

Having him beside her was comforting and made her feel secure. She nodded. “Thank you, Justin.”

They walked through the lobby and rounded the corner
into the hallway. She stopped at her door and dug the key from her purse. Justin stepped forward and held out his hand. “Let me go first, okay?”

Sophia placed the key on his open palm. He unlocked the door, eased it open and tentatively stepped into the room. She followed closely on his heels. No more than two steps into the room he threw out his arm, and she ran into it. “Call the police,” he ordered. “It’s happened again.”

Sophia peeked around his outstretched arm and felt her face heat. “Uh, actually, nothing’s been disturbed, Justin. This is the way I left everything this morning.”

Justin snickered. Then they both began laughing, releasing the pent-up tension the morning had pressed upon them. Sophia wiped a tear of mirth from her eye. “I’m so embarrassed. I promise I’m not normally such a slob.”

Justin shook his head. “This time, I’m glad you were. I needed the laugh.”

The moment over, she excused herself and went further into the room and grabbed the plastic Target bag of candles. Then she rummaged in her suitcase and pulled out a small black box. She had brought it just in case, not really anticipating using it, but after this morning it was unquestionably needed. “Okay,” she said looking around. “I think I have everything I need except the roses.”

“I’ve still got a few roses in my backyard,” Justin said. “We could just cut some.”

“Are they white?”

“No. No white ones.”

“Perhaps we can stop at Target. I know they have white ones.”

“No problem,” Justin said.

They left the hotel and Justin drove to the nearby Target. After she purchased a dozen white roses, he drove them to Mama Hayes’ to eat. There, they sat in relative silence enjoying their meal. Some of Sophia’s nervousness about the coming séance had dissipated and her feeling of isolation had lessened too. She was even able to look up occasionally and smile at Justin.

In an odd way, she felt as if Gran Bella had taken her hand. She was a warrior mentally preparing for a battle. She had the tools of her trade at the ready and her grandmother was poised to help.
Whoever is out there harassing Justin
, she thought with a sly but inward grin,
bring it on.

Debbie Sue and Buddy arrived at Justin’s house early. Debbie Sue desperately hoped Vic and Edwina would show up early enough for Edwina to fill her in on the bit of news she had mentioned over the phone. Prostitution? Edwina? No way. Sex for money? Not Edwina. Charging for it would make it a job and Edwina liked sex too much to turn it into a chore. Debbie Sue just wasn’t buying it.

After introducing Buddy to Justin and Sophia, Debbie Sue said, “Excuse me, y’all. I’m gonna check the surveillance cameras.” She looked at Justin. “Any new activity? Anything strange going on in your house?”

“Nope,” Justin answered.

“I’ll just take the cameras into the kitchen while y’all talk.”

She plucked the camera from behind the family photo, then pulled the book on plumbing, which was really a spy camera, from the book shelf, then carried them into the dining room. Sitting at the table, she watched as Justin’s everyday life unfolded before her. Seeing nothing telling, she pressed
FAST FORWARD
. Images sped past until something caught her eye. She reversed and pressed
PLAY
again. The book seemed to be moving, capturing dizzying images ceiling to floor and back again. Debbie Sue’s breath caught. She sat there mesmerized, couldn’t take her eyes off the screen.

The movement on the screen came to a halt and Debbie Sue found herself looking at a framed photograph of Rachel. The camera’s focus stayed on the picture for almost a full minute. Debbie Sue’s eyes bugged. Who was holding the damn camera? Had Justin taken it from the bookshelf where she and Edwina had placed it and walked around the house with it?

Then the camera was on the move again, stopping finally at the refrigerator door in the kitchen. The letters on the refrigerator door began moving on their own. The picture suddenly became blurry and unfocused. Then, just as quickly as the picture had gone haywire, it cleared up again, showing a new message on the refrigerator door:

Blood began to swish in Debbie Sue’s ears. She could hear air entering and leaving her lungs. She squeaked and slapped her hand against her mouth. What the fuck was going on?

Debbie Sue left her chair and walked into the kitchen. The letters on the refrigerator door were scattered all over the door, spelling no particular words.

Well, this was just crazy. She walked back into the living room. “Hey, Justin, have you seen any new messages on the fridge’s door?”

“Not a one,” Justin said. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. Just checking.” Debbie Sue walked back to the camera on the dining-room table and sped back to the shots of the refrigerator door, checking the date. The message had been filmed earlier that day. But who did it target? The Domestic Equalizers? This was a frivolous message. Who
else
could it have been directed to? Was Rachel’s ghost showing a playful side?

A shiver slithered up Debbie Sue’s spine. “This is ridiculous,” she mumbled. “I don’t even believe in ghosts.”

Just then a loud roaring, clattering noise came from outside. It made her think of a road grader crossed with a tank. She walked back into the living room and followed Justin, Sophia and Buddy out to the front porch. An enormous set of shiny chrome handlebars with a motorcycle attached came into view, and even from a distance, she recognized Vic Martin riding it. This must be the bike Vic had been working on around the clock, the one he wanted to be proud of when he met his navy buddies again in Terlingua.

Vic Martin just naturally looked as if he was born to be wild. He could be riding a tricycle and people would address him as “sir.” His head was as bald as an egg and a Fu Manchu mustache framed his mouth. Today he had on a sweatshirt with the sleeves torn out, showing bare biceps thick as most men’s thighs. His denim-clad legs were stuffed into black, thick-soled, mid-calf boots. Mirrored wraparound sunglasses covered his eyes. Debbie Sue was glad she knew Vic as well as she did or she would’ve been scared to death.

As she waved, she assumed Edwina was following him in the Mustang…until she saw skinny arms wrapped so tightly around Vic’s middle they seemed to be part of the folds in his sweatshirt.

“My God,” Buddy said, “is that Edwina on the back of that bike?”

It had to be, Debbie Sue thought, but she had seen Edwina refuse to ride in a vehicle with the windows open for fear of destroying her hairdo. How in the world had Vic persuaded her to crawl on the back of a motorcycle? Before the idea left her head completely, Debbie Sue knew the answer. Edwina would do anything for and with Vic. If he truly wanted her on the back of his “hog,” Edwina would bite the bullet, toss back a couple of tequila shots and throw caution to the wind—along with her hair, makeup and most assuredly, her talonlike acrylic nails.

Vic made a circle in the driveway, revving the motorcycle’s motor to a deafening pitch, his laughter barely audible
above the din. Debbie Sue covered her ears with her palms until Vic killed the engine.

It was then that she got a full view of Edwina. While a protective motorcycle helmet didn’t fit Vic’s ultra-macho image of himself, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t want his beloved spouse to wear one. A Salt Lick High School Steers gold football helmet encased Edwina’s head. Number fifty-seven was stenciled on both sides in black. Debbie Sue couldn’t bear to think of what it had done to the carefully molded and sculpted beehive hairdo Edwina always wore.

At this moment, she also wore a fixed smile, as if her face were paralyzed. She had that frozen, painted-on expression of one who had accepted her fate, like one of those passengers left on the deck of the Titanic as water began creeping up her thighs. Staring at her old friend, Debbie Sue bit her lip.

“Sorry,” Vic called to her. “I’m like a kid with his first two-wheeler.” He pushed the kickstand down with his heel, turned his head and spoke to Edwina over his shoulder.

“We’ve been having a helluva good time, haven’t we, Mama Doll?” He patted Edwina’s hands. “You can turn me loose now, Mama Doll. We’ve stopped moving.”

Edwina’s arms slowly unlocked from around Vic’s waist and she carefully lifted her skinny self from behind her husband. She was finally on her feet, but she stood perfectly still, listing slightly to the left. She appeared to be in a daze. A flashback zoomed through Debbie Sue’s brain of the moonlit night several years ago when she and Edwina, along with
Paige McBride, had rescued Rocket Man and two other horses from a horse thief and Edwina, who had never ridden a horse, had found herself astride a runaway.

Vic, too, dismounted from the bike and caught her elbow. “You okay, Mama Doll?”

“Mmmph,” Edwina said, taking a cautious step, her arms extended from her sides. She was wearing a bright yellow oversize sweatshirt and orange leggings and Debbie Sue thought immediately of Big Bird.

“Do I have bugs on my teeth?” Edwina tilted her head back, looked up at Vic and bared her teeth.

“I don’t see a thing, sweetheart,” Vic replied, studying her teeth.

“Thank God,” Edwina mumbled and hobbled toward Debbie Sue.

Vic, too, came over and brushed Debbie Sue’s cheek with a peck. “Hi, darlin’. This was my baby’s first ride on my hog.” He grinned at Edwina pridefully.

“I would’ve never guessed,” Debbie Sue said.

Buddy stepped off the porch. “Hey, Vic.” He extended his right hand to Vic.

“Hey, Vic, let me introduce you to everyone,” Debbie Sue said, and proceeded to do just that.

“Let’s go inside.” Justin urged the group back onto porch and toward the front door.

Following Justin, Sophia and Buddy, Vic took the porch stair in a single step, but Debbie Sue caught Edwina’s arm and held her back. As soon as everyone was out of sight, Debbie Sue said, “Ed, are you sure you’re all right?”

Edwina gave a shaky thumbs-up. “Be honest, Debbie Sue. Do I really have bugs on my teeth?” She bared her teeth again.

“I don’t see a thing. Honest. Your teeth look fine.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“What do you mean?”

“We hit a big bug about three miles back while I was screaming. If he’s not on my teeth, that’s means I swallowed him.”

“Oh, no, Ed—”

“Shit! I think I’m gonna puke.”

Debbie Sue had intended to tell her partner about the message on the refrigerator door, but this didn’t seem to be the time. She squarely faced Edwina and began to undo the helmet’s chin strap. “Take off this, this…whatever this is. The strap is so tight you probably can’t breathe. Where’d you get it anyway?”

“My neighbor’s boy. He’s not on the football team anymore.”

Edwina carefully removed the helmet. Debbie Sue’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my God, Ed. You look like a Mickey Mouse topiary at Disney World.”

Edwina touched her hair gingerly. “Well, hell. Why not? Y’all can relax now. If you were thinking something scary might show up tonight, it just did.”

Something scary had already shown up on the refrigerator door. “You’re not scary, Ed.” Debbie Sue gave her a one-armed hug, then dug her pickup keys out of her pocket. “Here, let me see what I can do.” For the next few minutes
she tried to work some magic on Edwina’s hairdo, but with only a truck key for a tool, the results weren’t spectacular. She stepped back to get a better look at her handiwork.

“How’s it look?” Edwina asked.

“Not so great, but better. If I only had a brush and some hair spray.” Debbie Sue could no longer keep from laughing.

“Also a tube of concealer, some foundation and blush. Then everything would be fine.”

“Hell, I’m going home.”

“You don’t have a way to go home. What did you expect when you put on that helmet and got on the back of that motorcycle?”