Heaven's a Beach

by J. A. Cipriano

  Taking my mind off the incident, I turned my attention back to the problem at hand. Mrs. Garrett’s ghost wasn’t so much a ghost as it was a dirty stinking thief, one we were pretty sure worked for her. The fact that she even thought it was a ghost in the first place made me wonder how trusting this woman actually was. Really, your silver candlesticks don’t just go missing. Then again, she did hire me.

  “No, Lucifer. It was most definitely the chauffeur.” Michael brushed up against me, making my arm buzz. “Can’t you tell by how those things were arranged? He definitely rifled through them.” Michael crossed his arms over his fuzzy V-neck shirt, looking like a mighty Viking lording over his subjects. His blonde hair fell over his forehead, and his sky-blue eyes were intense and demanding. Even though I had tasted him, just the sight of him still made my skin sing.

  “Guys,” Gabriel said, looking between them, his button-down Hawaiian shirt flamboyant enough that if he were corporeal, we would have no chance of not being seen. He shoved a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I can’t see who they are, but Jane will figure it out. I know it.” As he finished speaking, they all turned expectantly to me.

  I hated when they did that. I wasn’t the brains of this operation. Well, not most of the time. I was the pretty face of the group. They were the ones with all the mysterious powers. There was Lucifer with his built-in lie detector, Michael with his hyper-perception, and Gabriel with visions or whatever. I wasn’t quite sure what he did or how it worked. I just hoped he didn’t peek into my past. There was a boy band phase I was not particularly proud of.

  Powerless and a bit ashamed, I scrambled for an answer. “Um … the butler did it?” I lifted my shoulders sheepishly. Heck, the dog walker might have done it for all I knew.

  “Right, of course!” Lucifer exclaimed, far more confident about my answer than I was. “That bloke was definitely lying about something.”

  “And he’s far too messy to make sure to put back things …” Michael mused as his voice trailed off.

  Gabriel stared off into the distance for a moment and then nodded. “Yep. He’s stolen stuff before.”

  I frowned. “How can you see that, but not what he’s stealing now?”

  Lifting a shoulder, Gabriel said, “I don’t always get to pick what I see. Sometimes, it’s just a glimpse of them now, and other times I get stuff that doesn’t matter at all.”

  Lucifer smirked. “Not that all-seeing, now are you?”

  “Lucy …” Michael warned.

  “Don’t call me that,” Lucifer snapped, stepping toward Michael menacingly.

  I glanced at the two of them. Michael with his golden coloring and Lucifer with his black hair and seductive eyes, they were like light and dark. Good and evil. Top and bottom. With me preferably in the middle. A Jane and angel sandwich. Now, that was something I could get on top of, or rather in between.

  I’m such a weirdo.

  Gabriel snort-laughed, making me think he heard my thoughts, but he was staring at Michael and Lucifer. “Just kiss already, you idiots.”

  My mouth dropped open and my gaze shot back to the glowering angels. “Is … um, is that something you guys do? I mean, kiss each other?” I wrung my hands in front of me, a nervous excitement making me hum with energy.

  Lucifer turned to me with a bemused grin. “Would that be something you would be interested in? To see us kiss?”

  “I’m not kissing you,” Michael snapped, not even looking my way. “The Four Horsemen couldn’t make me kiss you.”

  “We’re not talking about the Apocalypse.” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “We’re talking about Jane.” He gestured toward me. “You’re saying you wouldn’t do that for her?”

  Michael finally laid his gaze on me, and he really seemed to think about it. “Well, I’m not sure.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to kiss Lucifer, I’d be just as happy if you kissed Gabriel.” When Michael’s eyes widened, I couldn’t hold back my laughter any longer. Laughing so hard my sides hurt, I almost missed the front door opening.

  “Look!” I pointed at the butler as he opened the front door. “He has Mr. Garrett’s watch on his wrist. It had to have been him.”

  All three of the angels turned their heads at once to where I was pointing. The butler, Bart Milton, was an elderly fellow, older than my father for sure. Except he had all the class of a shoe horn, not that he knew that. The two times I’d talked to him, he’d had his nose so high in the air that his boogers and I were on a first name basis.

  “Maybe they gave it to him and forgot about it?” Gabriel offered as we moved closer to the edge of the bush.

  We’d been waiting there for over an hour already, hoping to catch someone in the act of stealing. So far it had been a bust, but I figured the thief wouldn’t wear anything they stole while the owners were home. Mister and Misses Garrett had left for the evening, some benefit for one-legged dogs or something.

  Rich people were always spending money on some charity or another, but I ask you this, where was that money really going? I didn’t see any bionic legs on these poor creatures. All I’ve seen was rich people getting even richer and poor one-legged Fido was left in the ditch.

  “Jane!” Michael’s voice knocked me out of my thoughts. “Aren’t you going to go after him? He’s leaving.”

  I watched Bart head toward his car at a snail’s pace. “Yeah. He’s going to get away with how fast he’s moving, I better hustle.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. I didn’t move from my spot in the bushes as Bart entered his car and pulled out of the driveway.

  “Now, you definitely aren’t catching him,” Gabriel announced, his brow furrowed. “I don’t think you’re fast enough to catch a car.”

  “You apparently haven’t seen me chase the ice cream truck down before,” I quipped as I stepped out of the bushes and toward the front door. I didn’t bother trying the doorknob, the butler was good at his job even if he did have sticky fingers. He wouldn’t have left the door unlocked. Instead, I knelt next to the door and searched for the hide-a-key I had seen Mrs. Garrett use earlier that day.

  “What are you doing?” Michael asked, coming up behind me.

  “Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to find the thief in there, love,” Lucifer chuckled.

  “I’m not. I’m just looking for … ah hah!” I grabbed the little hollow fake rock and stood. Popping it open, I pulled the key out and turned to show them before using it to open the door. “Voila! Now, we can go snoop in Bart’s room to find the stolen items.”

  “See? Told you she’d figure it out.” Gabriel pushed between Lucifer and Michael and followed me into the house.

  As we made our way toward the servant’s quarters … Yeah, I know. Servants quarters? Who even had those? Okay, Beatrice didn’t count. She’s not a servant, she’s part of the family.

  “Don’t touch anything,” I said over my shoulder, sidestepping a decorative table. “We don’t want them knowing we were in here.”

  “Couldn’t even if I tried, love,” Lucifer reminded me.

  Stopping at Bart’s bedroom door, I giggled. “Oh, yeah. Duh. Well, just stand there and look pretty then.” I winked and opened Bart’s door. Flicking on the light, I went straight to his dresser and started digging through the drawers.

  Gabriel leaned against the wall by the dresser. “I thought you said not to touch anything.”

  I glanced up at him from where I was digging and gave him a pointed look. “Really? How else am I going to find the stolen stuff if I don’t touch anything? I meant out there.” I waved a hand to the door. “Mrs. Garrett is more uptight than Mandy’s butt hole.”

  Gabriel gave me a strange look which I ignored. He didn’t need to know about Mandy’s sexual preferences. I didn’t even want to know about them, but give my best friend tequila, and all filters go out the door. Really, there are some things you just shouldn’t share with others, even your best friend.

  I opened the last drawer and dug through the clo
thes until my fingers wrapped around something. Withdrawing it from the drawer, I blinked at the long purple colored object for a moment and then promptly dropped it with a “Wah!” Backing away quickly from the dresser, I rubbed my hand on my pant leg.

  “What was it?” Michael asked, moving toward the dresser.

  “Don’t!” I reached out. “You don’t want to know. Just don’t.” I rushed forward and kicked the drawer shut with my foot, shuddering as I caught sight of the overly large dildo again. Really, he was, like, seventy!

  Lucifer chuckled and grinned at me. I had a feeling he had seen what was in that drawer. Shooting him a warning look, I knelt by the bed. More wary of what I was grabbing, I searched beneath the bed. There was a box tucked a bit further back under the bed. Of course, it was just out of my reach.

  I wiggled and stretched trying to reach it, my backside up in the air. Finally, I dropped down to the ground, and shuffled under the bed, grabbing the box. Coming out from under the bed, I smiled at my prize. My grin dropped at the strange looks the angels were giving me. “What?”

  Snapping out of whatever haze they were in, Lucifer cleared his throat. “What’s that there?”

  I shrugged. “Don’t know. Hopefully, what we’re looking for.” I gave them one more curious look before turning back to the box. Pulling the sides of the cardboard box open, my eyes widened. “Jackpot!” I pulled out the silver candlesticks, then the gold-plated picture frame that once sat on the table in the hall, as well as a bunch of jewelry. Grinning up at the guys, I said, “I told you it was the butler!”

  “Yes, yes. You are very smart.” Michael sighed, his hands on his hips. “Can we leave now?”

  “Okay, let me just …” I packed the box back up and shoved it back under the bed.

  “You’re not going to take it with you?” Gabriel asked, his brows furrowed. “Those are what the client wanted, aren’t they?”

  “Pfft and tell them what? I snuck into your house and dug through your butler’s things.” I stood to my feet and brushed off my jeans. “Yeah, right.”

  “But that’s what you did,” Michael pointed out as I started for the door.

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t prove I’m a psychic. That only proves I’d make a good thief.” I shook my head and opened the front door. “Really, guys, you make this job sound hard.”

  “Ms. Mehr, what are you doing in our house?” Mrs. Garrett cried out. My head whipped toward the door, where she and Mr. Garrett stood dressed to the nines for their benefit.

  My mouth dropped open, and I quickly searched for my words. “I … I was just communing with the spirits.” I forced a dazed look on my face, my hands moving in the air. “They were telling me who has been taking your things.”

  “Really?” Mrs. Garrett leaned forward, holding onto her fur throw.

  “Of course not,” Mr. Garrett - a non-believer if you could believe that - scoffed, jerking a hand at me. “It’s obvious she was breaking and entering. So, she’s a thief and a fraud.”

  I dropped my hands slightly and frowned. “I don’t like those implications, Mr. Garrett.” I stepped closer to him. “If I was a fraud, how would I know about your hide-a-key?” I held the key up for them to see.

  “Lucky guess,” Mr. Garrett snapped.

  “Fine.” I threw my brown hair over my shoulder. “Then, if I was a fraud, how would I know that your butler, Bart, is your thief?” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared him down. “How would I know that he has a box of your stuff under his bed right now?”

  “He does?” Mrs. Garrett gasped.

  “Yep, the candlesticks and the picture frame, plus that necklace your mother left you.” I nodded to Mrs. Garrett.

  Her hand went to her neck. “Oh, Max. My pearls! I never even told her about the pearls.”

  Mr. Garrett gave his wife a defeated look before turning a stern look in my direction. “Very well, if you are so sure, why don’t you show us?”

  “I’d be happy to.” I turned on my heel and pushed through the guys. I clenched my teeth and forced myself not to react as I felt like I’d just stuck my finger in a socket. Throwing open the bedroom door, I went to the bed and pulled out the box. “There you are. Your proof.”

  Mr. Garrett went down on his knees and looked in the box. Sighing in what had to be pure disgust, he glanced back at his wife. “She’s right. It’s all here.”

  “Then we should check his whole room, right?” Mrs. Garrett glanced around frantically. “If he took those, there’s no telling what else he took.”

  I backed away from them. “You do that, but I’d avoid the dresser. Your butler is a dirty, dirty man.”

  With tears in her eyes, Mrs. Garrett suddenly embraced me. “Oh, my dear, I can’t thank you enough. How can I repay you?”

  I patted her on the back and chuckled nervously. “Uh, a check will be fine.”

  “Oh yes,” Mrs. Garrett pulled away dabbing at the sides of her eyes. “Max, pay the woman and then call the police. They have an arrest to make.”

  Mrs. Garrett left the room leaving me with her husband. If I thought he didn’t like me before, I was sure of it now.

  Max pulled out his checkbook from his jacket pocket, filling it out quickly. “You did a good job finding our things. I’m sure this will more than cover your fees and assure you never step foot in our house again.” He ripped the check off and handed it to me, his eyes intensely boring into me.

  “I can’t promise …” I started and then stared down at the check, choking on my words. It was more than I made in three months at the bar. More than even the cops paid me! “Of course, Mr. Garrett. You’ll never see me again.”

  “Good,” Mr. Garrett clipped, putting his checkbook back. “Now, get out of my house.”

  Nodding dumbly, I stumbled out of the room and then out of the house. The guys were still following after me with curious expressions I didn’t have the energy to put to rest.

  “Where are you going?” Michael asked as I got into my car.

  “To get drunk,” I said, starting my car. “To get very, very drunk.”

  3

  I had the evening shift at Heavenly Arms, a hole in the wall bar with just the classiest clientele. One of those classy patrons were sitting across from me right now.

  “Blech. You call this beer?” Rick, one of our regulars and resident heckler, made a disgusted face before looking to his buddies. How he had any friends, I’d never know. “My grandmother could make better beer, and she’s blind and deaf.”

  “Lucky her,” I muttered through clenched teeth.

  “What was that, Janey?” Rick asked, turning his beady eyes on me.

  Picking up a wet washcloth, I pretended to clean a spot on the counter. “I asked if you needed anything else.”

  Rick’s lips curled up into a wolfish grin, or at least I think it was supposed to be. It seemed more weaselly than wolfish to me. His eyes locked onto the cleavage of my dark green tank top as he leaned forward on the counter. Slicking a hand over his over-producted hair, Rick purred, “You could give me your number and thirty minutes of your time for me to rock your world?”

  “Oh, thirty minutes?” I batted my eyelashes at him. “I thought you were more of a one-minute man.”

  A round of oohs and burns came from his friends. Rick shook off their hands, a frown on his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. But the ladies always know to come to the Rick-man for the good lovin’s. You’ll be begging me soon enough.”

  Begging for a restraining order, more likely. But I kept that comment to myself. One jab was all I was allowed. My boss, Bill, a real-life IT guy if I’d ever seen one, had gotten on to me often enough about busting the drunken asshole’s balls.

  “Once is enough, but kicking a guy while he’s down is downright cruel,” he’d said after one particularly pissed-off customer threatened to sue me for verbal assault or some pussy ass thing like that. Not my fault the guy could dish it out but not take it.

  Rick, though, was pr
etty harmless. He was the guy who always hit on you but knew he had no chance in hell of getting anywhere. Which was why I even let the first one out. I knew he wouldn’t take it too hard, and I’d only charge him for one beer rather than the three he would down before going to dinner with his buddies.

  “I’m sure, Rick,” I smirked, handing him another beer. “When that day comes, make sure you record it because no one will believe you otherwise.”

  His friends ooh’d again but Rick winked at me. “Oh, you know there will be a recording, just not of you begging.” He disgustingly licked his lips, and I was done.

  Wrinkling my nose, I moved away from him and started down the line of the bar, taking orders and making drinks as I went. After leaving the Garrett’s, I had to go straight to work and didn’t have a chance to deposit the check burning a hole in my back pocket. I wasn’t leaving that thing lying around. It was my ticket out of this shit hole, and I was taking it.

  I might not get a lot of clients, but the Garretts made it so that I could finally quit the bartending gig and focus on my psychic detective agency for real. Even if I didn’t get another job for the month, I would be okay at least for two. Then I would have to worry about getting another client. I’d get another one by then surely.

  At least that was what I was hoping for.

  The night was going pretty steadily, boring almost to the point of me hoping the guys would show up. They liked to pop in and out of my life whenever they felt like it. Or whenever God let them off duty. I still wasn’t sure about that bit.

  There were a few more jerks to deal with after Rick, but most were easily brushed off with a snide remark and a threat to cut them off. Being a weeknight, I was the only bartender. Terry, our very own cowboy, had the night off. Piper, our other bartender, only worked the day shift because of having a kid in school. I kind of was glad to be the only one working the bar because that meant I could be alone with Bill at closing. Just the time to tell him I was quitting. I had no doubt that wasn’t going to go over well.