Rest in Pieces (14 page)

“Silence.” It was Astrid over the intercom. “The ceremony is about to begin.”

“There’s a ceremony?” Monica raised one eyebrow.

“Oh no, I forgot about the candle lighting ceremony.” I rolled my eyes. Donnalee is here and I’d forgotten to grab the fire extinguisher.

“You know the Carols and Candles ceremony at First Baptist on Christmas Eve?” Until I’d moved in here, I’d looked forward to the Carols and Candles service. Watching the deacons walk down the aisles lighting all of the candles held by the congregation, and then they would turn off the lights—it was beautiful.

“Yes.” Haley nodded. She was Catholic but everyone went to First Baptist for the Carols and Candles service.

“It’s like that, only there’s no Christmas music, one of the candle lighters is stone–cold blind, and I’m pretty sure we’re summoning the forces of darkness…but there’s lots of candles.” I leaned down, lifted up the hem of the purple and silver silk tablecloth to see if Dulce had hidden a fire extinguisher there like we’d talked about. Sure enough, there it was in all of its red glory. I grabbed it and set it down next to my chair. “I have a fire extinguisher.”

“Thank God.” Haley glanced up as the lights flickered.

“Here they come. A word to the wise. Close your eyes until after they are seated. All that candlelight radiating from the millions of silver sequins on Astrid’s robe can cause seizures. After they are seated, do not look in her direction. Keep your head down or she might melt your retinas.” I grabbed a handful of Peanut M&Ms shoved them in my mouth, and lowered my head. I could tolerate Astrid’s robe as long as I didn’t look at it head on, but I still closed my eyes. Watching three senior citizens dancing around the table like they were druids at Stonehenge cracked me up. I’d been told on more than one occasion that laughter at a séance was inappropriate.

The lights went out and the door was thrown open.

“Spirits of the afterlife, we summon you. Your daughters of light are waiting. Come to us.” Astrid chanted.

“Come to us.” Mitzi, Eloise and Donnalee chanted.

“Come to us.” Astrid’s voice got louder.

“Come to us.” Mitzi, Eloise…….. and Donnalee returned.

There was a loud thunk over my left shoulder. I glanced behind me. Donnalee had run into the altar, which held an assortment of voodoo dolls, crystals, vials of holy water and Jolly Ranchers. She was attempting to light the Jolly Ranchers. I jumped up and grabbed a couple of vials of holy water and poured them on the flaming candy.

“I got one!” Donnalee yelled. “There’s a spirit in here pulling my arm. I’m being moved by the spirit.”

“It’s just Mustang.” Astrid sighed heavily.

“Let me help you to your seat.” She was an inch away from lighting my hair on fire—especially now that there was twice as much. Gently, I took her candle and blew it out.

“Okay, dear.” Her face turned up to me, and I noticed that she’d only drawn on one eyebrow tonight. Fortunately it was directly in the center of her forehead. For her, painting on eyebrows was much like pin the tail on the donkey—as long as you got it on the board, it counted.

“Is your spirit guide the Hershey Skor bars, the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, or the black licorice?” They all had named spirit guides but I could only remember them by their junk food preferences.

“Skor bars.” With all of the pomp and circumstance of Queen Elizabeth at her coronation, Donnalee allowed me to escort her. She got a little caught up in the mosquito net, but otherwise, we made it to her seat just fine.

At the rate Mitzi and Eloise were lighting the candles, we’d be here all night. Using the large lit candle next to the crystal skull, I relit the candle I’d taken off Donnalee and walked around the room lighting the remaining candles.

After all the candles were lit, I settled back in my seat.

“Join hands.” Astrid grabbed Donnalee’s hand before she knocked over the Skor bars.

We all joined hands.

“Sebastian…my dear sweet Sebastian. I feel you near. Come to me, old friend. Come to me.” Astrid rocked back and forth making the sequins flash in the candlelight. If she’d rocked with a little more force she’d be head banging, but since it was kind of slow she looked more like little kid who had to pee but was holding it.

Monica let go of my hand to shield her eyes from the flashing sequins.

I mouthed, “told you.”

Astrid’s voice got louder. “Sebastian, our circle of love is unbroken.”

Monica waggled her I–broke–the–circle–of–love fingers.

“G’day, mate.” Astrid appeared to be channeling Sebastian. “I was just off at a bottle shop with me Bushie mates for a bit o’ bundy.”

I had no idea what that meant but I was pretty sure that Astrid had only researched Aussie lingo through the letter C. We never got any Australian slang that didn’t start with A, B, or C.

“It was a nice place too. Not like that bottle–o run by that cane toad.” Or it might have been, “Nice people poop. Not in a pot though right on Cane Road.” Neither made much sense. Her accent was so bad that it could have gone either way.

Haley glanced at me.

I shrugged. I don’t speak crazy.

“Dear Sebastian, please help us find Molly Miars.” Eloise had been given the great honor of speaking with Sebastian. Once, Astrid had tried to talk to Sebastian herself, but we’d all gotten so confused that we had to have a designated spirit driver.

“Molly Miars?” It sounded a lot like trolley cars.

“Yes, Molly Miars. Please find her. We need to talk to her.” Eloise was all importance. “Her friends have joined us to help call her forth.”

Monica squeezed my hand. “Oh, Troll—”

I kicked her under the table.

“I mean Molly Miars. Please come to us and tell us who murdered you.”

“He did it.” Astrid was fading into a cockney Michael Caine. “Oh, me eyes. Me eyes. Help—me eyes are burning. He poisoned me eyes.” She rubbed her eyes vigorously and coughed.

“Who is he? Could you be a little more specific?” Haley leaned closer to Astrid like that would help. “Perhaps a proper noun.”

Astrid’s coughing turned into a wheezing fit where she grabbed her throat and convulsed from side to side. “Not lima beans…not lima beans.”

There was lots of body twitching and gasping. After a full minute of hokey–pokey writhing where she put her right arm in and took her right arm out; put her right arm in and then she writhed it all about. She took one last, long labored breath and then face planted into a large bowl of assorted Lindt Lindor Truffles.

Astrid sat up and looked around like she’d just woken from a coma. “What happened?”

Eloise put her hand over her heart. “Sebastian is amazing. My spirit guide, Marvis, has never come through that clear.”

“Is Sebastian still here?” Donnalee looked around and then yelled, “Sebastian?”

“He’s gone.” Astrid rolled her eyes. “What did he say?”

Like she didn’t know. It was funny how the information that she’d seen on our murder poster board had been the only information that Sebastian gave us.

“He did it.” Mitzi glanced at me. “Who is he?”

I shrugged. I had no idea.

“Sebastian said ‘he,’ and then his eyes started hurting. Isn’t that clear enough?” Astrid pegged me with her beady little brown eyes.

Funny how we hadn’t mentioned the eyes thing, yet she still knew what Sebastian said.

“It was the eye doctor? If Molly was poisoned through the eyes, it was her boyfriend, the eye doctor.”

Haley and Monica turned to me. If Dr. Dick had murdered Molly, I needed to know…we needed to know. Tomorrow I’d call and make an appointment.

Chapter 10

“You call me as soon as you get out.” Haley was practically yelling. I pulled the phone away from my ear.

“Okey dokey, mom.” I was parked outside of Stevensen Optical, the office of Dick Stevensen, possible murderer and all around A–hole.

“I meant it. He’s a jerk and I’m worried about you.” Haley rustled some papers. “I can’t stand it. I’m coming over—”

“Stay home. I’ve got this. He won’t know what hit him. I’ll interrogate him and he won’t be the wiser. I am female, hear me roar.” I’d watched
Erin Brockovich
last night and was ready to take on the world. “I can handle one crazy ophthalmologist. Piece o’ cake.”

The earliest appointment I’d been able to get was Wednesday at noon. So here I was, sitting in the parking lot of the Randall’s shopping center and waiting to meet a murderer. I had ten minutes to go before my appointment. You had to love a doctor’s office squished between a Subway and a Papa Murphy’s. Pizza sounded good, but the billing office didn’t have an oven. Freaking take and bake. Subway it is.

I turned the screwdriver and Bessie’s engine rattled a bit, but finally turned off. I opened the driver’s door and climbed out. Someone had painted the two windows on either side of the front door of Dr. Stevensen’s office with giant eyeglass lens. I opened the door, which was the nose and walked in. The huge face with glasses was clever—stupid, but clever.

I headed to the L–shaped front desk, and an older lady with a flat–top haircut and tiny John Lennon specs looked up from the computer she was industriously pounding on.

“Can I help you?” It was more of an accusation than a question.

“I have an appointment with Dr. Stevensen.” I checked my watch. It was eleven fifty–five; surely this woman had a schedule of appointments and should be expecting me.

“Let me check.” The woman hissed out. Clearly the welcome wagon had run right over this dear woman on its way somewhere else. “You’d be…” she pulled her glasses down to the end of her nose and leaned so close to the computer I was afraid she might burn her retinas, “Mustang Ridges. Is that your stage name or something?”

It’s amazing what people feel is appropriate to ask a total stranger. Did I ask her why she looked like one of those little troll dolls? No, I did not. Next to this woman, I was a paragon of restraint.

I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt. “I’m Mustang Ridges and yes, that’s my real name.”

“I’m going to need your health insurance card—that’s for your office visit, your vision insurance card if you have one…” With her right pinkie fingernail, she picked a green particle out of the space between her two front teeth, “oh, and I need to see your driver’s license. Make sure you are who you say you are.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if everyone got carded or if she only wanted to check my name. It had happened before. I fished in my wallet for the cards.

The queen of good hygiene, she wiped the green particle on her pants before taking the cards I’d laid on the counter for her.

She felt around on the counter separating her from the rest of the world until her hand grazed a clipboard. Grabbing it, she checked to make sure something was clipped to it. “Here are your new patient forms. Because you haven’t been in to see us in five years, you’ll need to fill them out again.”

I’d been a patient of Dr. Mueller but when he’d retired and sold his practice to Dr. Stevensen, I hadn’t bothered to come back. I didn’t need glasses and could see just fine, so what was the point?

I took the clipboard and flipped through the pages clipped to it. The first page was a menu for the Great Wall of China restaurant. FYI, in Austin there’s an adoption agency called The Great Wall of China. Once I called their number by mistake and tried to order takeout. They were not amused.

I unclipped the menu and stuffed it in my purse. Broccoli and beef sounded like an excellent lunch. Besides, the Wicked Witch of Stevensen Optical couldn’t read it.

The next page was a list of phone messages for Dr. Stevensen. I pulled out my iPhone and snapped a couple of pictures of the phone messages so I could investigate those further. I was ninety–nine percent sure that when I called these numbers no one would pick up the phone and say, “great job killing Molly” but it could happen…maybe.

I walked back to the front desk with the good intention of telling her that these weren’t the new patient forms but since she held my driver’s license about a millimeter away from her eyeball and was inspecting it like she was checking the molecules to make sure it wasn’t plutonium, I decided that new patient forms weren’t necessary.

“Ever thought about bifocals? That way you could see both up close and far away.” I was just trying to be helpful. She did work for an ophthalmologist after all. Surely Dr. Dick had noticed that his receptionist couldn’t even read the giant–lettered top line on the eye chart.

“I’m too young for bifocals. My vision is perfect.” She pushed her glasses back up her nose and glared at me.

I seem to make friends wherever I go.

“I can see that.” I didn’t bother to smile because unless I backed up ten or so feet, she wouldn’t see it. “Here are the new patient forms.”

I handed the phone message list back to her.

“You filled them out quickly.” She sounded skeptical, but felt around the counter top for the forms.

Just to be a bitch I moved the clipboard just out of her reach. Every time she moved closer, I moved it a little more out of the way. I was the ex–wife of an embezzling diamond thief; cheap thrills were all I could afford.

“Where are those damn forms?” Her hand banged the edge of the clipboard and I decided that she’d worked hard enough for it. “There, got ‘um.”

“Ma, is my next patient here?” A cloud of cheap men’s cologne wafted in announcing the presence of Dr. Dick. Molly had described Dr. Dick as a mook and I never really understood the meaning of the word until he stepped into the room. He was maybe six feet tall with slicked back dark hair and a massive sternum bush sticking out of the unbuttoned top three buttons of his shirt. His fake tanned skin make him look dirty rather than tan. His gaze went directly to my chest and a huge, happy smile curled on his face. “Hey there, sweetheart, I hope you’re ready to spend the next twenty minutes alone with me in a dark room.”

Without taking his eyes off of my chest, he pulled a small bottle of breath spray out of his front pants pocket and squirted a puff in his mouth. Yep, mook.

If I didn’t love Molly so much, I’d have walked out right then and there.

“Dr….” Don’t say Dick, don’t say Dick. “Stevensen.” I held out my hand for him to shake. “Molly Miars spoke so highly of you.”