I felt a quiver of shock. “Oh, my God, Bradford. What are you saying? What did Vanessa’s mother witness? Or misinterpret? I know you. You’re a pussycat.”
Bradford jumped up from his seat and began pacing, wringing his hands. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I witnessed it and I still can’t believe it.” He continued to pace back and forth in front of the desk. The pale beam of light growing brighter with his agitation, the buzzing, louder. Then the dizziness began.
“Sit down, Bradford,” I ordered in my most authoritative tone reserved for high-strung employees and wayward siblings. “I can’t help you when you’re like this.”
My harsh tone must’ve worked because he dropped back into his seat, pushing his hands through his hair in a nervous manner. “Yeah, I know, Jolene. But damn, I’m going nuts over this.” He let out a long breath.
“You were saying that Vanessa was hysterical?” I kept my voice level, and steered the conversation back to the problem. “Can you tell me why?”
He glanced toward the window, then back at me. “No, that’s the crazy part. Halloween night started out normal. Vanessa was in her element at the book launch. Calm, charming, beautiful. The classical fairy tale princess. Until that incident in the study. She wasn’t the same afterward. Something happened to upset her.”
A hint of an accusation colored his words, and my hackles rose in self-defense. “Ah, yes, the kind and sensitive soul going through a rough time as I remember. I had nothing to do with your girlfriend’s meltdown, I can assure you.”
Bradford flushed at my tone. “I’m not accusing you of anything, but you were in the study with her, and she was crying when she came out. You have to know what caused the upset. I need your help, that’s why I’m here.”
The air between us crackled like an electrical live wire. To put some distance between us, and gain some time, I leaned back in the chair and clasp my hands together. Bradford’s questioning gaze never left my face, and I felt as if my heart would explode in my chest. He was so close, yet so far away. A moot point. We had moved on with other people. I was with Preston now. Time to let go. A sobering thought.
“I’ll tell you what I know, Bradford, after you finish telling me your story, agreed?”
Since the first time he’d waltzed into the salon, a faint smile cracked his lips. “So we’re dancing that jig again, huh?”
Bradford was referring back to the time of Scarlett’s murder, and we’d been forced to work together to bring her killer to justice. To get what I wanted, I had resorted to blackmail—a strange quirk of mine extremely useful in times of need. A fine tradeoff if you asked me, however, Bradford wasn’t as enthusiastic. The same stubborn expression flinted across his face now. But I was winning and that was all that mattered. He wasn’t the only one wanting answers. I gave him a quick nod.
“After leaving the study, Vanessa disappeared for a while,” he continued. “Maybe fifteen minutes, give or take a few.”
Yes, that coincided with my timeframe of the incident. Vanessa had literally disappeared for seventeen minutes. I’d been unable to locate her in the house, but I hadn’t had time to search the outdoor area. Perhaps she’d met her mysterious caller out in the pool cabana, or the garage.
“When she finally did show up, she showed no signs of the earlier upset. Her makeup was perfect, her costume unwrinkled. I didn’t buy it, though. No, she did a great cover-up job, but I could see the change. Something about her didn’t feel right. Too excited. Too keyed-up.”
The switch. Twins. Mama’s cookbook. The exposé. Damn, what am I missing? There had to be a connection. A common denominator linking the above.
“That’s when she decided to announce her latest project.” He shook his head and sighed. “I warned her not to, but she wouldn’t listen. Too soon and dangerous.”
“Dangerous? How so? It’s only a book.”
“One would think that, Jolene, but Vanessa’s manuscript has the potential to do a lot of damage to a lot of people. Careers ended. Costly divorces. Businesses destroyed. Lives ruined. Even a possible lawsuit for slander. I warned her not to do it, but she refused to listen.”
At his words, the pale, silvery beam began to pulse and change colors. The gnats buzzed around my ears. Every time Bradford mentioned Vanessa, the figure reacted. Another clue in the mystery.
“The guests were upset when she announced her plans,” I pointed out.
“Angry is more like it.”
“Furious.”
“Serious threats were made.”
“Dead people don’t tell tales,” I agreed.
“Deadly consequences.” Bradford’s tone flattened.
“What do you mean?”
“Vanessa is dead. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
Chapter Five
The Rainbow Figure
A wave of cold moved through my hot flesh making me feel as if the blood had frozen in my veins. I clenched my teeth together to keep them from chattering. Goose pimples raced along my arms, as I focused my attention on the wavering rainbow-colored shape clinging to Bradford’s shoulder.
Vanessa van Allen.
Good God Almighty. The Vampire Queen had bitten the dust. Crap. Not good.
“Give me the details.” My voice shook with disbelief. “There’s been nothing on the news.”
“That’s where this gets sticky, Jolene.” He stood up.
Another wave of cold passed through me. “You’re a suspect?”
“Not yet.”
“You’re being vague.”
“It’s complicated.” His deep voice deepened. “I’m not even sure what’s going on.” He held out his hands in an appeal. “Vanessa’s death hasn’t been reported to the authorities. Her mother assures me that she’s alive and well and attending the Baconton Writers’ Retreat.”
“For God sakes, Bradford!” I jumped up from my chair to race around the desk to clasp his shoulders. “What the hell is going on? How can she be dead and alive? Holy crap. This is nuts.”
Bradford disentangled himself from my grasp, pushing me into the chair he’d vacated. “I need you to be calm.”
Calm? Did he say he needed me to be calm? Hell, calm wasn’t in my DNA. He knew that. I was a hyperactive paranoid with a dark side that knew how to drive a stick. And I don’t mean a stick shift. A broomstick. Those Salem gals had nothing on me.
“Don’t look at me that way,” he growled. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking you’re an ass,” I retorted. “I knew that woman was trouble the moment I laid eyes on her.” I pointed my finger in his face. “How you got yourself entangled with her, I’ll never understand.”
“We’re wasting time,” he shot back, the muscle in his jaw clenching. “Do you want to hear the rest or not?”
I did. And he was right, of course. Not the time to rehash old hurts. We had to get a handle on matters before they skyrocketed out of control. “Tell me the rest.”
“After the party broke up on Halloween night, Vanessa and I went upstairs to change. I had an early flight out of Atlanta in the morning, so I hadn’t planned to stay overnight.”
So they were lovers. Old news. It hurt to hear it from his lips, nonetheless. I had a new lover. Preston and I had spent the last three days in bed, breaking only to eat, sleep, and bathe. Oh, and change the sheets a couple of times. I’m a stickler for cleanliness.
“Vanessa didn’t like that.” Here a look of dogged resistance crossed his face. “She expected me to cancel my trip to Wyoming and attend the writers’ retreat as her bodyguard. When I refused, she became unreasonable. Not herself.”
“Could alcohol have been a factor in her behavior?”
“I don’t see how. I never saw her take a drink the entire evening but for the toast to your mother’s success.”
“Drugs?”
He shook his head. “Not likely.”
“Then what?”
“Vanessa began screaming for me to get
the hell out of her house. As I was leaving, she launched herself at me, kicking and biting. When I tried to restrain her, she pitched a hissy fit. I thought she was going to hurt herself, so I restrained her the only way I know how. Vanessa was screeching her head off when Betty walked in and immediately drew the wrong conclusion. Vanessa didn’t straighten her out. Just cried in her mother’s arms.”
“Then?”
“Then I got the hell out of there. I figured her mother would have better luck calming her if I was no longer in the picture. Before my flight the next morning I tried to reach Betty, but there was no answer at the house. I finally reached her yesterday morning. She told me Vanessa was fine and scheduled to attend the writers’ retreat starting today.”
“That makes no sense at all.” I was thoroughly confused by his story. “If Vanessa is alive and well, what makes you believe she’s dead?”
“Because she’s haunting me,” he answered in a shaky voice, and threw a quick glance over his left shoulder as if he could see the pulsating light.
My eyes followed his gesture. Sure enough, the rainbow figure still clung to his shoulder like a kudzu vine on a Georgia pine. I hesitated, then took a deep breath. “You don’t believe in the afterlife.”
“The last three days have been educational.”
“How can you be sure it’s Vanessa haunting you?”
“I presume you can see her?”
“You presume wrong,” I answered. “I can only see and hear what the deceased allows, and your visitor isn’t sharing. What makes you believe it’s Vanessa? Especially in light of the evidence to the contrary?”
“Because I’ve seen her. It’s Vanessa, all right.”
“She’s materialized into the physical world?”
Bradford scratched his chin. “Enough for me to make a positive identification. Snow White costume and all.”
“She was still in costume the last you saw her?”
“Yes.”
“How do you explain Betty’s insistence that Vanessa is alive and well?”
“I can’t,” he said, with a weak smile. “That’s why I’m here. I need you to communicate with her until I can track down the truth. This is your area of expertise.”
I chuckled. “I never imagined I’d hear that from your lips. You wanting my help with the supernatural. My, how things change.”
“Yeah, I never would’ve believed it myself if not for,” here he gave another head jerk over his left shoulder. “This.”
His action brought my gaze back to the rainbow figure. Slowly I circled Bradford, all the while focusing my psychic abilities on the lost soul stuck between worlds. At first, I could vaguely visualize a woman’s shape, but that soon disappeared as the pulsating light faded away into nothingness.
“Anything?” Bradford asked when I plunked back down into Deena’s desk chair.
“If your unwelcome guest is Vanessa van Allen, she doesn’t want anything to do with me. I’m going to need some help.”
Bradford’s face reflected his uneasiness. “I don’t want to involve anyone else, Jolene. Too risky under the circumstances. The less people who know about this weird business, the better. Understand?”
I did, but Bradford couldn’t know the limits of my abilities. And I wasn’t talking about live help. This required the assistance of a certain ghost with experience. Yep. Time for a powwow session with Scarlett Cantrell: Heaven’s top-rated female private investigator, and my favorite ghost. If anyone could get to the bottom of this growing mystery, it would be her. Plus, we made a great team. I smiled, anxious to get started, already formulating my pitch to her. And it had better be a good one, Scarlett had made a big deal out of her heavy workload on Halloween night.
“I’m not liking that look,” Bradford said. “No outsiders, understand?”
“I heard you the first time. And I’m not thinking about involving my sisters if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“It is,” he complained. “Y’all are glued at the hip. You tell them everything.”
“Not this time,” I assured him. “Deena’s busy planning her wedding, and Billie Jo’s under the weather.”
“What about your mother? Seems like she’s been involved before. Your father, too.”
“My parents could help, you know. They plan to attend the writers’ retreat. Mama’s real close to your gal pal, and they could be our eyes and ears. Plus, they don’t even have to know why we want the information. It wouldn’t hurt to plant a mole in the midst.”
“Won’t work.”
“That’s your point of view,” I declared, feeling supremely confident in my suggestion. “Mama’s incredibly adept at extracting information. At least think about it.”
“The answer is no, Jolene. I don’t even like the idea of you being involved. If it weren’t for the special circumstances, I wouldn’t have taken you into my confidence.”
The frown on his face closed further discussion, so I dropped the idea of using my parents as moles. Besides, they weren’t who I had in mind to begin with.
“Okay, no moles,” I conceded. “Just a passing thought. Truly, my ambitions run a lot higher than that. Much higher.”
“You’ve lost me.”
Time to explain Scarlett’s role in the investigation. Taking a deep breath, I plunged ahead. “Since you’re now in the position to fully understand, Bradford, I intend to seek help from another source. One that can reach Vanessa as you and I can’t.”
“And who would that be?” His voice was calm, his gaze steady.
“Scarlett Cantrell.”
“I think not. One ghost is enough, Jolene.” He shook his head as if genuinely concerned with my suggestion. “There has to be another way. Dear God, please let there be another way.”
“Scarlett’s our best bet. It’s either her or you learn to live with your ghostly hitchhiker.”
His brow drew together in an agonized expression. “I know I’m going to regret this, but let’s do it.”
****
Darkness had fallen and Scarlett proved once again that she wasn’t at my beck and call. Several hours had passed and the only citizen of inner space in the office continued to be Bradford’s shadow friend.
“This is going nowhere,” I whined. “Scarlett’s not going to show up tonight, Bradford. I’ll keep trying, but I may have to enlist Madame Mia’s superior connection.”
“Madame Mia’s House of Psychic Vision on Fifth?”
“You know the place?” I stared at him in astonishment. “I didn’t think you’d heard of her.”
“I’ve been in every business in this town at least once. That woman is a fraud. I’m surprised you don’t know that.”
“Your point of view is off-kilter with this one, Bradford. There’s more to Madame Mia than meets the eye.”
My first visit to the beautiful psychic had been after Scarlett’s demise. Communication difficulties with the netherworld had sent me scurrying straight to the Madame’s door. What an eye-opening experience that had been. But I came away with the impression that the striking psychic knew more than she was letting on. And I wasn’t just talking about the invisible world. No. She had her finger on the pulse of the town, of that I was sure, so I made it a habit to seek her out whenever the stars misaligned or the spirits came out to play. The woman definitely had X-ray vision where trouble was concerned. Now might be the time for another quick visit to Fifth Street.
Bradford raked his fingers across his stubbly chin. “I’ll have to take your word for that. And since you brought it up, I’d like to apologize for my past behavior toward you regarding your paranormal abilities. I should’ve supported you no matter how I personally felt about the subject. That’s what couples do—support one another.”
His words caught me off guard. How long had I longed to hear them? Long enough. Now that the moment had arrived, I felt no pleasure however. Bradford’s admission had come at a cost. If it hadn’t been for a woman’s death, prompting the confession, he wouldn’
t be here. I sighed, then yawned as weariness crept over me. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t had a bite since lunch.
“I think this would be a good stopping point,” he said, ignoring the awkward silence that had sprung up between us. “I’m starving. How about pizza? There’s a new joint over on the north side of town that’s getting great reviews down at the station.” He smiled as my stomach rumbled loudly in response. “I take it that’s a yes?”
I grabbed my handbag and followed Bradford out of the office and into the empty salon. We’d made it to the front door when a loud motorcycle roar, and heavy metal rock music thundered. Mesmerized by the display, I stopped in my tracks. Bradford paused too, swinging his head around to look quizzically back at me.
“Scarlett.” I shrugged my shoulders. “She’s changed her arrival notice again. Kinda loud and funky, but I like this one.
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” I threw my handbag on one of the reception chairs. “Pizza will have to wait.”
No sooner had the words left my mouth than a brilliant white light flashed. When the spots dissipated from my vision, Scarlett stood before me decked out as before, but for a long, leather duster and a sidearm on her hip to complete her Hells Angels apparel.
“Halloween is over,” I said without blinking.
Scarlett’s haughty gaze traveled down my palomino-colored pants and top. “Yeah, I could say the same to you. Red heels? Really, Jolene. Ditch the disco era.”
“Bitch.”
“Whore.”
Bradford cleared his throat. “Excuse me for interrupting your exchange, ladies, but the clock is ticking.”
Scarlett cocked her head in Bradford’s direction. “This is new.”
“A recent acquirement,” I said. “Totally unexpected, but the reason I sent for you.”
“Well, get on with it, Claiborne. As the hunky detective said, the clock is ticking, and I’m on a job. Pain-in-the-ass detainee slipped away while her holding cell was being cleaned and heads are rolling.”
“Purgatory isn’t very heavenly,” I speculated.
Scarlett tapped the butt of her side arm. Sparks flew. “That’s because it ain’t. Well, what’s the story?”
A Dead Pig in the Sunshine Page 4
