by Lotta Smith
“Wow, now I’m glad you called me. Just going through the gate sounds like so much fun.” I chuckled as the baby kicked me.
“What if there’s actually a resident ghost and this particular spirit talks with a British accent? Should I talk like a Brit myself?” Jackie cocked her head. “With full disclosure, there were times that I seriously wanted to audition for My Fair Lady, but I gave up.”
“Why? You would’ve rocked playing the part of Professor Higgins.” I moved my hand so it looked like I was patting her shoulder.
“That’s not the case.” She fluttered her hand. “I wanted to be Eliza, the cockney flower seller. But I didn’t have the right plumbing for the role back then. In my opinion, it’s so unfair that only women can audition for female roles, but I didn’t come up with the idea of lawyering and complaining about gender inequality.”
“Oh, I see.”
As I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, our car reached the gate. Rick was slowing down as we came closer, but before he buzzed in with the intercom, the gate started to open, letting us in.
“Open sesame!” Jackie declared proudly.
CHAPTER 3
As the Lamborghini rolled inside the gate, we passed by a Japanese-style garden with rocks, sand, and a little artificial stream running across the spacious landscape. Just like the ones Rick and I visited in Japan during our honeymoon, the Sparkses not only had a koi pond with an arched crimson bridge but a cascade as well.
“Wow, this garden is such a hidden gem!” My jaw dropped.
“So true. I’m shocked that they’re not charging each of us twenty bucks for admission,” Jackie enthused. “Well, not that I often get charged for admission. That’s one of the perks of being dead.”
“Impressed?” Rick winked at me via the rearview mirror.
“Yes I am, and so is Jackie.” And I shared her insights about admission fees.
He let out a hearty laugh. “Woo-hoo! That’ll drive their neighbor nuts. People in this area tend to be so OCD when it comes to privacy. Despite that, they’re always dying to know what their fellow residents are doing.”
“You seem to know a lot about them, don’t you, Rick?” Jackie said.
“Yeah. I used to live in this area when I was little,” he replied nonchalantly after I relayed her words.
“Really?” Jackie and I said in unison.
“Yup.” He indicated to the right. “Actually, my old man still has a home not far from here. It’s on lease right now, but moving is doable. That’s why I asked if you’re interested in moving here.”
“Wow….” Jackie and I exchanged glances as we gawked at the magnificent garden.
On the left side, a Greek Revival-style mansion featuring white columns appeared.
When we reached the front porch of the building, a young blonde girl in a navy dress with a white lacy apron was waiting for us.
“Thank you for coming, Mr. and Mrs. Rowling,” she greeted us. “I’m Heidi Reinhart, the housekeeper. Mrs. Sparks is waiting for you inside.”
She led us down a long corridor into a spacious salon with antique furniture, a Baccarat chandelier, and a baby grand piano.
“I’m sure this salon doubles as a grand ballroom when they’re hosting a party,” Jackie commented by my side as she took in the extravagance of the room.
At a table sculpted out of a huge blue stone, which looked more like a piece of art rather than furniture, three people were already gathered: a man and a woman in grayish suits that shouted “serious business,” and another woman in a black wrap dress with a gold-buckled belt at the waistline.
At a glance, I could figure out who was Nicole Sparks, our client, mostly because her resemblance to Meredith was so striking.
Just like her sister, she had the perfect posture and the sophistication of a seasoned dancer. And when she talked, even her voice sounded similar to Meredith’s.
“Hi, you must be Mandy.” She stood up and came toward me. “Thank you so much for coming! I didn’t want to bother you in the middle of maternity leave, but the situation is tricky. Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you.” As I got comfortable on the cushy sofa, she turned to Rick.
“Long time no see, Rick.” She smiled at him. “Meredith showed me the photos of your wedding, and they were stunning! I should’ve canceled that trip to London. The collection I went there for turned out to be disappointing. Still, I was lucky enough that I managed to dodge one of those terror attacks on London Bridge. Anyway, thanks for coming for my Beast.”
“No prob.” He nodded and sat next to me.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Nicole asked us.
“Some white tea would be nice,” I said, and Rick chose black tea.
“Heidi, can you bring tea to Mr. and Mrs. Rowling?” Nicole said to the housekeeper.
“Very well, ma’am.” Heidi went into the room—the kitchen, perhaps—connected to the salon.
“Where’s Edie?” Rick looked around the room.
“Didn’t I tell you? He’s in Amsterdam for an auction. So basically I’m alone except for Heidi. If I’d known I’d be ambushed by a heist threat from the most talked-about art thief du jour, I’d have brought him home with me. Being targeted by a media-worthy thief is something on every art broker’s bucket list.” Nicole winked.
According to her, the couple ran an art brokerage firm, and they were opening an abstract-themed café in Tribeca. They were on a business trip in Brussels, but Nicole came home to take care of an urgent situation with their café project and received the letter during that time.
Heidi brought in the tea and turned to Nicole. “Is there anything needing attention before I go grocery shopping?”
“Well….” Nicole tilted her head thoughtfully before giving it a shake. “We’re good. Now would be a good time. Thank you.”
Heidi offered a smile and excused herself.
When she was out of sight, the woman in a pants suit looked at Rick. “You must be Rick Rowling, right?” Twirling her curly hair, she observed him with keen eyes.
“Oh yes, that’s me.” Rick crossed his legs. Though his demeanor appeared relaxed, he watched her cautiously.
“Wow!” Her eyes twinkled. “So the rumor about the ghost at this mansion must be true. That’s why you called him, right, Nicole?”
“I think I have a ghost here, but I’m in need of an evaluation by Ma—” Nicole was about to utter my name, but when Rick gave her the eye, she cleared her throat. “I mean… my security expert, Rick.”
“Your security expert who can communicate with dead people,” the woman enthused. “I saw the live TV show when he cornered the coldblooded killer who kept himself under the radar for years, hiding the crime he’d committed. I’m so excited to have you here. Imagine the headline: ‘Mysterious Art Connoisseur versus Rick Rowling.’ The title alone is so newsworthy!”
Rick raised an eyebrow at her. “Have we met before?”
“Oh, where are my manners!” She dug through her handbag before pulling out a card and handing it to him. “I’m Shannon Tate, an investigative reporter from Full Speed. Nice meeting you.”
“Okay,” he muttered, his face unreadable.
“I’m on the crime beat, and currently I’m chasing the Mysterious Art Connoisseur cases. Here you go, Mrs. Rowling.” She smiled at me, handing me the same card.
“Thanks.” I took the card, trying not to touch her. Not only was I slightly germophobic, but I didn’t want to run the risk of her dropping dead moments after touching me. In my previous life as a med student, I found out some people—such as murderers and serial rapists who’d slipped out of the justice system unpunished—tended to drop dead just moments after touching me. Since then, I made a habit of not touching total strangers.
“She’s here to interview me about my Beast. And the moment she found out about the threat, she insisted on staying here with me,” Nicole said, sipping her pink hibiscus tea.
For a moment, I regretted that I
didn’t ask for hibiscus tea, then changed my mind as my white tea tasted really good.
Nicole went on about her reason for letting the reporter stay. As she’d mentioned, she and her husband were opening a café, and having some free media coverage in advance seemed like a good idea to her.
“I see.” Rick slowly turned his head and glanced at the man in a dark suit. “And is he another reporter?”
“No, he’s—” Nicole started.
“Mrs. Sparks.” The man cleared his throat, giving us a disapproving stare. “Like I said previously, having outsiders isn’t in our best interest—if you see what I mean.”
He was in his late forties with a pair of rimless glasses. “We’re dealing with the Mysterious Art Connoisseur, and any irregularity could jeopardize the situation.”
“Hmm, this guy acts like a total Mr. Know-It-All, but I’m sure he’s as clueless about the thief as he is about how to dress,” Jackie commented. “Look at his socks. The patterns are too busy with what looks like a bunch of Pokémon. Besides that, he’s showing too much of them. Argh!”
I coughed in an attempt to conceal my snort, which prompted the guy to give me a dirty look.
Without acknowledging the Pokémon socks guy’s acerbic comments, Nicole went on. “This is Mr. Ken Seyfried. He’s with the insurance company, and the moment I told him about the threat, he simply had to come. He’s volunteering to guard my Beast, but I’m not sure if he’s the right guy for the role.”
“Mrs. Sparks, please.” Seyfried gave her a warning look. “Really, if anything happens to Beast, our company will be covering the loss. Please make sure nothing happens to it. Are we clear?”
“Oh yes. Of course,” Nicole agreed, fluttering her hand. I wasn’t a mind reader, but I could tell from her body language that she was hoping to swat him like an annoying fly.
“So, where’s the detective you were talking about?” Rick asked casually.
“Detective Seagal? He’s in the men’s room,” she replied and smiled happily. “I’m so glad to have so many of you gathering here, worrying about my Beast. This will be fun.”
“Mrs. Sparks?” Seyfried cleared his throat. “Please be advised that we’re not having a party here.”
“Sure.” She raised her hand lightheartedly, and then her face turned serious. “You don’t need to remind me about the burglary threat in every conversation. In case you don’t remember, I’m the one who received it and notified not only the police and the insurance company but USCAB.”
Rick’s face was mostly unreadable, but I didn’t miss the slight twitch in his right eyebrow. Jackie and I exchanged glances.
“Having so many people here could be good for protection,” she commented. “Unless one of them happens to be the thief.”
Nicole’s gaze shifted to us. “Mandy, Rick, let me introduce my treasure to you.”
“Sounds good.” Rick stood and helped me up.
CHAPTER 4
Leaving Shannon and Seyfried in the salon, Nicole led us out into the corridor.
“Nicole, what were you thinking? I didn’t expect to bump into a reporter here,” Rick said when we were far enough away to keep our conversation to ourselves.
“Me neither.” She stopped and tilted her head nonchalantly. “When she interrupted us, I was going to ask her to go away, but the detective and the insurance guy were such jerks that I let her in just to annoy them.”
“Wow, I’m impressed.” I chuckled, recalling Seyfried’s furrowed eyebrows.
“Attagirl!” Jackie cheered.
“Hell, her presence makes it complicated,” Rick muttered. “When we’re working with law enforcement, such as NYPD and FBI, I can openly tell them that Mandy has an ability to communicate with dead people, but with a reporter tagging along, I’ll have to pose as the one with ghost-whisperer skills.”
“I didn’t think about that. Oops, my bad.” Nicole clasped her hands to her chest in a gesture of innocence.
“It’s okay.” I touched Rick’s arm. “We’re accustomed to doing that since we’re trying to hide my ability from most of our clients, right?”
“Right, but journalists are nosy people. It’ll take a lot more caution than usual to conceal your skill from her.” He patted my hand and turned to Nicole. “You really scared me when you almost blurted out about having Mandy check for your ghost.”
“Hey, I said I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “I’m curious, what makes you want to hide her skill so badly?”
“Well, when you’re in the security industry, the last thing you wanna do is be a media magnet. If you’re the one being protected by us, a bunch of reporters trailing behind you could be useful—though most of the time, they’re more nuisance than a tool.” He shook his head.
“Still, being able to talk to dead people is so cool, isn’t it?” She turned to me. “Mandy, do you really want to keep your ability hidden? Meredith told me how you and your ghost pal, Jackie, helped with the search for Julie when she was kidnapped.”
“Well….” I tilted my head as her hazel eyes scrutinized me.
“Nicole, we talked about her ability over and over and came to an agreement to—”
“You don’t have to answer for her, Rick. I’m talking to Mandy. Mandy, is hiding in your husband’s shadow what you really want? I know it’s none of my business, but you could be like Brian Powers and run your empire by helping those who need your supernatural power, have a bunch of TV shows and so on. I can’t help but feel like you’re sabotaging your talent by pretending to be nobody.”
Jackie had been listening to her in silence, but then she turned to me. “Do you think we could be celebrities if we worked as a duo?”
“That depends on the definition of celebrities, Jackie,” I said. “And there’s a catch. Even if both of us became famous, most people don’t see you, and don’t forget that I run the risk of being treated as a fraud, or worse, a total headcase.”
“Oh… life sucks.” She pouted. “But I don’t want to be treated like a byproduct of your crazed imagination. Not that I’m saying you’re crazy, but the Internet might call you that.”
“I know what you mean.” I nodded and turned to Nicole. “Jackie wants to be famous, but I just pointed out that she’d be invisible for most people. She’s not thrilled about the prospect. Anyway, I’m hoping to stay stealthy for a while. I get your point about wasting my skills. Of course I don’t intend to be a woman from the dark, ancient eras when wives had to stay home and behave like a servant to their husbands. And I know I have the option to come out of hiding and share my ability with the whole world. Then again, it takes only a moment to become famous, but if I want to go back to the quiet life kept under the armor of anonymity, it wouldn’t be easy, would it?”
“No,” Nicole muttered, and Rick shook his head.
I went on. “Depending on the timing and circumstances, I might seriously consider publicizing my ability and working with a lot more clients. But now isn’t a good time to do so. At least, I don’t believe so. I’m in the middle of building a family, and I can imagine things might get rough when the kid’s mom happens to be not just famous but known to talk to dead people. Not to mention I don’t have the time and energy to invest in the venture. Luckily, USCAB is doing well and the company doesn’t need to go big with the paranormal section to keep it financially afloat. On top of all that, I happen to like and enjoy my current status of being nobody. I can go shopping without having to worry about being photographed from the most unflattering angle, and no one would try to dig up my past. Not that I’m an ex-con or have a sex tape to leak, but in my opinion, privacy is truly priceless. Anyway, Rick was already famous when I met him, and that’s why we decided to go with him being the one with a special skill and me as his low-key assistant.”
Jackie applauded. “Mamma mia! Mandy, I’m so impressed! I never even imagined you decided to be the girl supporting him behind the scenes.”
“Oh… I guess I was talking like someone running for the mi
dterm election,” I mumbled. “Forget what I said—”
I didn’t get to finish the sentence as Rick pulled me into a bear hug.
Whispering, “I love you,” in my ear, he planted a kiss on the top of my head.
“Oh my goodness!” Nicole gasped, clutching her chest. “Mandy, Rick, sorry I asked you such a nosy, personal question. I don’t know what got into me. Meredith would be so mad if she was here. I’m so sorry. I really am.”
“Don’t worry, Nicole. We’re good,” Rick assured her, still embracing me. “Actually, I often feel like a fraud by posing as a psychic. I’m not trying to use my wife. I would gladly give her the credit and media attention if she wanted.”
“No, she doesn’t want it—at least not right now,” I said, talking in third person as they chatted about me in front of yours truly. I kissed Rick on the jaw. “But I’ll tell you when I want to build my own brand and so on. Then again, Brian wouldn’t be happy if I started acting like his competitor. Maybe I better stay anonymous so he’s happy to work with us whenever we need his help.”
“It’s okay. We’re cool.” He smiled. “Good thing the reporter’s not tagging along with us or she’d be writing an article about us as we speak.”
“You can thank me for letting her see Beast and shoot photos of the mask before you guys came in.” Nicole waved her hand around, looking like she was about to start dancing. “All right, let’s go.”
When we passed a corner in the corridor, a tall, muscular guy sporting dirty-blond hair and dressed in a dark suit came out of the men’s room. Yes, the Sparks had separate bathrooms for males and females.
Crushing a paper towel into his pants pocket, he cast a suspicious glance at us. “Mrs. Sparks, are you starting a party or something?”
At his gruff manner, Nicole smiled gracefully. “Hello, Detective Seagal. Let me introduce the hottest security couple in the city. This is Rick Rowling, the COO of USCAB. As his title implies, he’s a security expert. And this is Mandy, Rick’s trusted right-hand lady and beloved wife.”
