Straight to Heaven (15 page)

“I hear you, ma’am, I really do,” said the clerk behind the counter, “but I can’t help you out.”

I considered trying the Devil’s charm on him. After all, I’d seduced store clerks before and once had walked away with several thousand dollars’ worth of designer clothing from a Rodeo Drive boutique. A gun shouldn’t be that much different.

Yet, as soon as the idea surfaced, I knew that I couldn’t go through with it. There had to be another way. “Never mind. I understand,” I told the clerk, and left the store.

I sat in my car wondering what excuse I could give J.T. when I showed up without a gun. Did guns ever get broken, I wondered? Would he believe me if I said my gun was in the shop being fixed? Maybe I could tell him that someone had borrowed my gun and hadn’t returned it.

Then I had a thought. Maybe
I
could borrow a gun. I had to know someone who was packing heat.

It took only three turns of my mental Rolodex to realize who that someone was.

My dad’s house had that sad, neglected look it always got whenever he and Evelyn were away on vacation. The grass was too long, and there were several rolled-up fliers shoved in the handle of the front door. The wilting impatiens in the hanging baskets were in desperate need of watering.

I used my key to enter through the kitchen door, and went down to the basement where it was cool and smelled like damp cement. My dad and his wife weren’t hoarders, but they did save a surprising amount of things. All their stuff was boxed in plastic tubs, and every tub was meticulously labeled in Evelyn’s careful script. There were three walls of shelves that held everything from “Christmas Decorations – box six” to “Maternity Clothing”. I peeked into that last one and, sure enough, there were the enormous dresses that I remembered Evelyn wearing when she’d been pregnant with Jas twenty-four years before.

“Dad, you need to do some cleaning,” I muttered.

At the same time, I was glad that he
hadn’t
cleaned in a while because I found the gun case. It lay on top of several boxes of leftover yarn from Evelyn’s knitting projects. Very carefully, as if I was handling nitroglycerin, I unzipped the case.

Simon had gotten it over a dozen years before from a grateful client who also happened to be a hunting enthusiast. My father, who didn’t even kill spiders let alone deer or rabbits, had accepted the gift with his typical, grave formality. Once the client had left, however, my father confessed that he had no idea what to do with the gun. Evelyn suggested selling it or giving it away, but Simon had argued that he didn’t want to insult the man. So, eventually, the gun had ended up in the basement with all the other things that he and Evelyn no longer wanted but couldn’t bear to part with.

I couldn’t have been more thrilled. “Thanks Dad,” I said, and carried it upstairs.

When I walked into the kitchen, something heavy whizzed towards me. Luckily, my supernatural reflexes kicked in. I dodged the cast-iron skillet before Jasmine could use it to cave in the side of my skull. The skillet hit the wall, leaving a large gouge.

Seeing me, Jasmine’s eyes grew huge. She dropped the skillet with a clang. “Oh my God, Lilith! Are you okay?”

I leaned against the wall, my heart thundering in my chest. “I think I may be having a heart attack.”

“I heard someone crashing around in the basement, and I thought it was a burglar,” Jasmine said. “You scared the hell out of me!”

“Likewise,” I told her. “Next time, do me a favor and check the driveway
before
you start swinging pans. My car is sitting right there.”

“Oh. Good point.”

It was the first time I’d seen my stepsister since she’d stormed out of the townhouse after finding Tommy in bed with me. Since then, she’d gotten her hair cut differently. She used to grow it so long that it was a shining sheet of black silk down her back, but it was shorter now, and she’d dyed some strands magenta. The cut made her look more sophisticated.

Before I could compliment her, she pointed to the gun. “What are you doing with that?”

Hiding it behind my back was pointless, so I said, “I’m borrowing it.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re not going to shoot Ted, are you!?”

“As tempting as that is, no. I’m going to a shooting range.”

“You at a gun range? What on earth made you want to do that?”

Instead of telling another lie, I went for a redirect. “I miss you.”

She looked away. “That was a shitty thing you did to me, Lil. Really shitty.”

I wished I could say something to take the pain from her dark eyes. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t make it better.” Despite the sophisticated new haircut, she suddenly looked like a little girl.

When Jas had been seven or so, she’d owned a prized collection of porcelain animals that she kept on a shelf above her bed. One time, while she and I were clowning around in her room, Jas’s arm flew up and knocked over the shelf, sending every one of her beloved animals crashing to the ground. She’d been so heartbroken that I’d hugged her and said that I’d help her glue them all back together. It was an isolated act of sisterly love, one that I’d rarely repeated over the years. Now, seeing her brokenhearted once more, I longed to hug her again and tell her that I’d fix everything.

But while I couldn’t fix everything, I could at least give her some good news. “Tommy’s coming back from India,” I said. “He’ll be home in a few days. He really wants to see you.” I searched her face for any sign of weakness, but her expression remained stony. “He says he loves you.”

At that, her eyes softened for a moment. Then she was right back to angry. “Well, I
hate
him!”

I flinched. “Hate
me
, Jas, but don’t blame Tommy. It wasn’t his fault. He was upset over his sister’s death, and was having second thoughts about making the pilgrimage. He was so, so sad.”

“Don’t defend him! If he was so sad and lonely, he should have come to see
me
. I was
right there
, Lilith. Down one flight of steps.” She was crying now. “I keep asking myself what I did to drive him away, but I can’t figure it out. Why did he want to hurt me so bad? Why did
you
want to hurt me so bad?”

If only I could tell her the truth! “I don’t know, Jas. Something came over me.”

“Something came over you? What the hell? Are you seriously telling me that the Devil made you do it?”

I shrugged helplessly.

As she wiped away her tears, I saw something on her hand that made my blood freeze. “Jas…is that an
engagement
ring?”

She immediately slid her left hand into her pocket. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Karl and I are getting married at the end of August.”

My dad must have not known, or he would have driven nonstop from the west side of the state to talk sense into her. Unfortunately, I’d have to do this on my own. “You can’t marry Karl. I know you’re hurt over what happened, but this is crazy!”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do!”

“Please, Jas. I’m begging you. At least take some time to think it over! I mean, the end of August? That’s only two months away!”

There was a flicker of doubt on her features, but then she rallied. She finally looked me in the eye. “I know you hate Karl, but you know what? He never cheated on me.”

I started to argue, but she stopped me. Her eyes were hard. “I think you better leave now, Lil. You and me plus a gun…not a good idea.”

I left without saying goodbye. When I got to the porch, she slammed the door behind me and set the deadbolt.

I was pulling into my driveway when my cell phone rang. Seeing who it was, I thought about ignoring it. At the same time, I knew that if I didn’t answer, my ex-husband would continue to stalk me until I picked up.

He didn’t even waste time with a ‘hello’. “Grace texted me this morning and said you wouldn’t let her go to France.” He sounded furious. Most likely, he’d been fueling up for an argument all day.

No wonder my daughter had been in a good mood when she woke up. She’d been hatching a little plan to get her own way. “She’s right. I’m not letting her. It’s too long and too far away.”

“That’s just an excuse and you know it,” he said. “The real reason you don’t want her to go is to get back at me.”

“Don’t be so childish,” I said. “She’s only eight, Ted. She’ll have fun for about three days before she gets homesick and begs you to take her back. But you’ll refuse because you’ve already booked hotels and tours and flights, and the two of you will spend the rest of the trip being miserable.”

He fell quiet, and I knew I’d scored a hit. There’d been times, just after the divorce, when Grace would visit him for the weekend and get homesick in the middle of the night. Then Ted would end up driving her back to my place at three a.m. because her frenzied grief had made her throw up. Then he would be angry, Grace would be guilt-ridden, and I’d be stuck in the middle. She was much better now, of course, but I sincerely doubted she’d survive a transatlantic trip and four weeks in a strange country, no matter how much she now said she wanted to go.

“She has to grow up sometime,” he finally said.

“She’s eight,” I repeated.

“I know you’re pissed at me,” he said. “I get that. But don’t make her suffer because of what I did.”

I remained silent.

“I’m not giving up on this,” he said after a few seconds and hung up on me.

I knew this was only the first round in our match, and that he had gone to his corner in order to regroup. I could almost see my ex-mother-in-law, dressed in gray sweats like Burgess Meredith in
Rocky
, fanning Ted with a towel and whispering into his ear about what to do next.

I didn’t care. No matter what strategy Ted and his mother came up with, I was prepared to meet them head on. If I had to fight dirty, then I would. Because there was no way in hell that he was leaving the country with my baby.

Chapter Ten

Opening the door and seeing my next-door neighbor, Casey Scarsdale, standing on my front porch was not how I wanted to begin my morning. But there she was, a nightmare in tight pink Capris, a white off-the-shoulder blouse, and a head of bleached hair teased so high it made her a good six inches taller than normal.

She thrust a plate of cookies at me while simultaneously wedging her way into my house. “I brought you a ‘welcome back to the neighborhood’ gift.” She lowered her sunglasses and took a quick inventory of my living room. “You like oatmeal raisin, right?”

Like I’d dare eat anything that had come from her kitchen. Surely, she’d poisoned them. Or at least spit into the batter. “Well, that’s sweet of you,” I said.

“I love how you’ve redecorated.” Casey picked up a throw pillow from the couch. “Your old style was always so, I don’t know, boring.” She laughed. “But this is better. It’s so
less
boring.”

This was coming from the woman who had put red flocked wallpaper in her dining room because her interior designer told her it was ‘retro chic’. “Casey, I’ve got a lot to do today…” I began, but she was leading the way to the kitchen as if
I
were the guest.

She plonked her butt on one of my bar stools. “I take my coffee with Splenda. Remember?”

With a sigh, I put the cookies down and poured her a mug of coffee while she continued to scope out my kitchen. “Where’s Mr. Yummy?”

So it was William she really wanted to see. I should have known.

Some people read books or play bingo to keep entertained; Casey hunted men. Once she caught one, she bled him dry before cutting him loose. Which is why she could afford to live in an immense, six-bedroom colonial and drive a Mercedes while only working as a part-time sales assistant at Neiman Marcus. If Miss Spry had really wanted a woman with the heart of a succubus, she should have knocked on Casey’s door.

“ ‘Mr. Yummy’ is out of town on business,” I said. “He’ll be back at the end of the week.”

“What’s his name?”

“William,” I said.

“What does he do?”

More lying! And I wasn’t getting any better at it. “He’s in sales. Look, Casey, I’d love to chat, but I really am busy today.”

Clearly determined to stay, she crossed her legs and made herself more comfortable. “Oh, come on. You’re a teacher, right? It’s summer vacation. Relax a little.”

Grace, looking sleepy-eyed, wandered into the kitchen, hugged me, and went to the fridge.

“Hel-lo, Grace,” Casey said. “I hear you’re going to France in a few weeks.”

How the hell had she known that? I glared at Casey, silently telling her to shut up, but Grace pounced on the opening. “Yeah, I’m going to see the Eiffel Tower and the Moaning Lisa.” She was glowing. “And this ginormous palace where King Louis lived.”

“It’s not a done deal,” I said. “We don’t know for sure if she’s going.”

It was like I hadn’t even spoken. Grace continued, “And we’re going shopping, and to some famous cemetery – ”

Casey, smiling, sipped her coffee. “Sounds fabulous. Your dad was telling me all about it at Andrea’s appointment.”

I’d forgotten that Casey took her daughter to my ex-husband for braces. The women in this neighborhood had big fat mouths. And wagging tongues. And kids with really crooked teeth who all went to Dr. Ted for their braces. It was a lethal combination.

“But the best part,” Grace said, “is that I’m not leaving until after Tommy comes back, so I’ll get to see him.”

Casey looked at me from over the top of her coffee mug. “Tommy? I thought you said Mr. Yummy’s name was William.”

“Tommy was Jasmine’s boyfriend,” I quickly said, wanting to put out that fire before it began.

Grace opened the fridge, took out some string cheese, and peeled off the wrapper. “Tommy used to live with us, but then he and Aunt Jasmine got into a fight, and Aunt Jasmine moved out of the house. But now, Tommy’s coming back.”

One glance at my neighbor’s eager expression told me that I needed to hush up my daughter before everyone in the neighborhood knew my family drama. Unfortunately, Grace kept talking. “Tommy texted me this morning and said he’d gotten a flight to London. So I told him that he could live with us because we have plenty of room now.”