Our Red Hot Romance Is Leaving Me Blue (26 page)

Debbie Sue exchanged another look with Edwina. This time, both of Edwina’s brows moved up her forehead and she mouthed, “Oops.”

Debbie Sue moved to where the bag of paraphernalia sat, the rhinestones on the Elvis jumpsuit glistening enough to catch anyone’s eye. She nudged it further under the counter, out of sight. “We’d never ask you to tell us anything you don’t want to, Sophia. And as far as taking things seriously, we’re totally on board with that. We understand it’s not a game.”

“Totally,” Edwina agreed, nodding.

S
ophia stayed at the salon longer than she had expected to. The hours with Edwina and Debbie Sue had flown by. The stories of their exploits as Domestic Equalizers had her in stitches. The two women were so uninhibited and entertaining.

Eventually they closed the salon and went to Hogg’s Drive-In for a plate of mile-high nachos, an order of French fries heavily sprinkled with garlic salt and some of the best beer-battered onion rings Sophia had ever eaten.

They parted, agreeing to see each other again in a couple of hours at Justin’s house. The time with the women had been good for her; she had a better feeling about tonight than before.

Enroute to the hotel, she called Justin. She hadn’t spoken to him in hours and was anxious to hear any updates.

“Hi, Sophia,” he said, a voice that elicited a smile from her every time she heard it.

“Hi, how are you?”

“Good, thanks. I’m tired, but good.”

“Are you home?”

“Yeah, I got here about an hour ago. Dealing with Felicia has worn me out. There was a time I thought I’d like to be a crisis negotiator, but after today I’ll never think that again.”

“Is there news of John Patrick?”

“He’s still unconscious. Sophia, is there anything you can tell me that the doctors should know?”

“Me?”

“You told me he was in a post-traumatic state. Apparently, you were right. All tests have been perfectly normal. What did you see when you touched him?”

Sophia closed her eyes and drew a breath. “I’ll tell you when I see you later.”

“But if it’s something that would help—”

“It wouldn’t help, Justin. I believe what I saw is what caused him to go into shock. He’s experiencing emotional trauma, but there’s nothing the doctors can do about the cause. They can only deal with the effect.”

“That’s pretty much what they’ve decided. I told them he experienced a personal tragedy and his condition is just the way we found him.”

“You didn’t lie.”

A beep came through the phone. “Hold on a minute,” Justin said. “I’ve got another call coming in.” Several seconds passed before he returned to the line. “Sophia, I gotta go. It’s Felicia. She’s convinced that John Patrick’s condition is the result of an alien abduction. She wants me to get in touch with a group out of Roswell, New Mexico, that specializes in kidnappings by aliens.”

“Oh, my goodness. You’re kidding, right?”

“I only wish I was. I’ve got to try and talk some sense into her, but don’t hold your breath. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, later.”

Left with nothing but the road stretching ahead of her, Sophia thought about Felicia’s theory for her husband’s condition. She supposed it wasn’t really any more far-fetched than what had actually happened.

Seeing a ghost, an extremely angry ghost, could throw any unsuspecting human into a catatonic state. Alcohol consumption reduced a person’s ability to think logically, to filter sights and sounds, and John Patrick’s ill-prepared mind had simply snapped from the overload.

When the time was right she would tell Justin about the kerosene can in the trunk of John Patrick’s car and the reason he had gone to Justin’s house. Apparently weary of his plots against Justin always producing the less-than-hoped-for result, John Patrick had decided to burn him out, corral and horses included.

At that, Rachel’s ghost had presented itself. And when John Patrick bragged of his intent, his sister’s ghost had gone
into an unearthly rage. No earthbound creature could ever be forewarned sufficiently of a spirit’s fury and the justice it was capable of delivering.

Sophia could still see the vision in her mind. Rachel’s specter had swept toward John Patrick, no longer in the human form he last remembered his sister, but in her present condition in the grave—rotting skin clinging to bone, black vacant holes where eyes had been, strawlike hair and decaying clothing flying and flapping. An icy wind had accompanied her and the screams of banshees. Teeth bared, she had screamed a sound too horrific for description and swooped down and around and thrust her icy apparition through John Patrick’s flesh-and-bone body twice before his mind shut down.

Sophia had concluded from listening to Justin talk that Rachel had been a wonderful human being, capable of great love and humanity, but, as she had pointed out to him, a spirit just wasn’t the same personality as the living being. Its frustrations could be many, ranging from not being allowed to cross over, to its own brother abusing the former love of its human life, not to mention its human life being snuffed out fifty years too soon. An unsettled spirit could experience great anger and resort to anything.

Stopping in a parking space at the hotel, she turned off the ignition and reached for her purse in the passenger’s seat. “Sweet Justin,” she said aloud. “I hope you never have to see that.”

And at that moment, her peripheral vision caught movement in the backseat. Her gaze shot to the rearview mirror,
now fogged over from a sudden drop in temperature. The rear seat was empty, but she was sure she had seen or sensed someone or something. The hair on her forearms stood at attention and a discernable shiver, not related to the car’s chilly interior, ran down her spine.

The thick accent of Gran Bella whispered in her ear. “Come inside, Sophia. We’ll have an opportunity to meet Rachel later.”

Debbie Sue sat at the gated entrance to Justin’s home, listening to a duet between Tim McGraw and his wife, Faith Hill. She never heard Faith Hill these days without thinking of Avery Deaton, whom they had met two years ago while investigating the disappearance of Elvis’s blue suede shoes. Avery was almost a dead ringer for the famous singer.

Debbie Sue and Edwina had agreed to meet here at Justin’s gate, but neither of them had wanted to arrive at his house first or alone. The bag of accessories sat on the passenger’s-side floorboard. Being the chosen body in the previous séance and not having actually witnessed a spiritual visitation with her own eyes, Debbie Sue had mixed emotions about another session. Her hope was that this time someone other than herself would be chosen as the receptor.

Buddy had persuaded her to film this event with a higher grade camera that those used for surveillance or the throwaways she usually bought for photographing crime scenes. If he couldn’t be present he wanted to know what to expect and how to deal with the aftermath.

The sound of a roaring engine and the light from a car
old enough to sport only a single headlight on each side of the front grille revealed Edwina’s approach. When Edwina’s 1968 Mustang came into view, Debbie Sue raised a hand in greeting, shifted into gear and started up Justin’s driveway.

The only car parked at the house was the black Porsche Cayenne, just as John Patrick had left it, Debbie Sue assumed. She was surprised they had arrived before Sophia, but the girl couldn’t be far behind.

Ironically, Justin greeted them as if they had arrived for a housewarming or a party, with expectations of great gaiety, hardly indicative of the gathering’s true intent.

“What’s in the sack?” he asked, as Debbie Sue dragged her loot from her pickup’s backseat.

“Oh, just some things Ed and I thought might help,” she said. “We talked to Sophia about it this afternoon. She said it was all right for us to bring them.”

Justin nodded. “I’m sure it is. I was just curious.”

Just then the headlights of another vehicle shone against the wall.

“Sophia’s here.” Justin strode from the room and out of the house.

Debbie Sue would have had to have been blind to miss that his eyes lit up like a kid who had been handed a new toy. She glanced at Edwina, whose brow lifted knowingly. “Don’t say it,” Debbie Sue told her.

“Humph. Do I look like I’m gonna say I told you so?”

“We’ve got more important things to think about, Ed. Buddy got me this fancy camera. He wants me to film tonight’s session. Whatever happens, do
not
stop the camera.”

“Where’s the camera?”

“Here.” Debbie Sue pointed to a silver ornament on her handbag. “This is the lens. The camera’s in my purse.”

“As I live and breathe. That’s pretty damn cool.”

“I’ve been dying to try it.”

“I wish you’d use another expression.”

“Listen, Ed, I don’t know about you, but I hope this whole thing ends tonight. I can’t remember when my nerves have been this jacked up.”

“I hear ya, girl. I’ve been so jumpy I’ve scared myself a time or two. If someone yelled ‘boo’ right now I’d pass out cold.”

“Kind of makes you wonder what John Patrick saw on that front porch, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, shit, you don’t think that’s what’s wrong with him, do you?” The elevation in Edwina’s tone couldn’t be denied.

“This is scaring the bejesus out of me, Debbie Sue. I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go home. We can ease out the back door. Let’s leave this to Sophia and Justin to figure out.”

“We can’t do that, Ed. We’re in this up to our tits. We are staying to the bitter end.”

“That’s another expression I wish you wouldn’t use again.”

Debbie Sue looked toward the sound of the front door closing and smiled as Sophia and Justin re-entered the room. They looked like a couple well suited for each other—young, good-looking, with a bright future before them. No one would ever guess they were part of a ghost hunt.

After saying hello, Sophia went directly to the business at hand. “I’ll light some candles and dim the lights. Justin,
can you please put on the same music you had on last night? And Edwina, if you’d please bring that vase of roses off the coffee table.”

“What do you want me to do?” Debbie Sue asked.

“Why don’t you put the enticements on the table?”

Debbie Sue cleared her throat. “All of them? Ed and I brought some stuff, but—”

“Oh, yes, please do include what you brought.”

“Okaaay,” Debbie Sue with hesitancy. Remembering Sophia’s admonishment back in the salon, Debbie Sue was almost embarrassed to reveal what she and Edwina had brought. She felt as if she were trying to turn the evening into a carnival act. Sophia had been right when she said this was a serious situation.

“Maybe I’ll just put your stuff out, Sophia. That’s probably all we need.” She closed the top of the paper sack and rolled it down, then placed it on the kitchen counter.

“No, please,” Sophia insisted, picking up the sack.

“There’s no way of knowing what might appeal to a spirit.” She reached into the sack. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

Debbie Sue looked for but didn’t see any particular facial expression from Sophia as she removed the wig, bracelets, head scarf or T-shirt, but she saw her eyes widen when she lifted out the Elvis jumpsuit.

“Is this an Elvis costume? You think we might conjure up Elvis?”

“Not really, but we sure as hell hope so,” Edwina said.

Sophia drew a deep breath. “Okay, then. Looks like we’re
all set.” She looked around the room. “If everyone will please take a seat. Justin, you sit here to my right. Debbie Sue, sit on my left and Edwina, you sit across from me, please.”

All moved to their respective chairs and sat down, instinctively joining hands to form a circle.

After Sophia led the prayer and a chorus of amens followed, she continued, “We are here to communicate with the spirit in this home.”

Everyone in the group remained silent. The only sound was the soft music in the background. Debbie Sue was sorely tempted to open an eye and peek but fought off the urge.

Seconds passed, Sophia spoke again, her voice soft and even. “We are here to communicate with the spirit in this home.”

Nothing. Music played. Seconds and then minutes passed. Edwina squeezed Debbie Sue’s left hand and she returned the acknowledgment.

Sophia said again. “We are here—” She stopped suddenly and said nothing else.

Debbie Sue felt as if her blood pressure had plummeted. Something was happening, but she felt that this time, she had not been chosen as the receptor. What blood pressure she had remaining fell even further when the grip Sophia’s hand had on hers relaxed and she was suddenly freed from her hold.

Opening one eye she looked at Edwina and then Justin, both of whom were transfixed. Turning to look at Sophia, she saw that she was paying attention to no one, but was
intently studying the articles before her. She reached for the obscene T-shirt and laughed when she read the logo. “This is certainly appropriate, isn’t it?”

She pulled the garment over her head and continued her search on the tabletop. “Let’s see…Oohh, I love these!” She slipped the bracelets onto her wrist.

Debbie Sue was finally able to loosen her tongue. “Marilyn? Is that you, Marilyn?”

Sophia looked at her and a sneer crossed her lips. “Who the fuck is Marilyn?”

Okay, so Marilyn Monroe was out. Most likely Patsy Cline too, and definitely Elvis.

Sophia picked up the tube of lipstick and twisted it up. “Nice color.” She swiped it across her lips. “How about it, Edwina, does this color look good on me?”

Edwina’s eyes flew wide, her mouth dropped open and a guttural sound came from her throat.

Okay,
Debbie Sue thought.
She knows Edwina by name. That cancels out Rachel.

Sophia ran a finger along Justin’s forearm and gave him a come-hither look. “My, my, who do we have here?”

Definitely not Rachel. But who in the hell
…

“If I’d have known a good-looking man was going to be here, I would’ve fixed up a little…Debbie Sooz, you should have warned me.”

Debbie Sooz? Jesus Christ, Debbie Sooz? Only one person in the entire world had ever called her that.
Her palms flew to her cheeks. “Pearl Ann?”

“Pearl Ann!” Edwina all but shouted.

“Who’s Pearl Ann?” Justin asked. “Is that Little Pearl?”

“No. It’s Pearl Ann Carruthers,” Debbie Sue answered breathlessly. “She was murdered a few years ago. You should remember, Justin. Edwina and I broke the case.”

He frowned in puzzlement. “Oh, yeah. I think I do remember that.”

“We found your murderer, Pearl Ann,” Edwina said smugly.

“So I heard. What? You think we don’t get the news on the other side?” Sophia sashayed around the room. “Say, does this body make me look fat? What about this hair?” She picked up a sheaf of long hair and let it fall. “I never thought of myself with dark hair. How come you never gave me dark hair, Debbie Sue? You colored it every other color.”