In Deep Voodoo

by Stephanie Bond

  Wendy was a quiet, petite, raven-haired beauty from Atlanta who had never been married. She ran an art gallery—perfect for her reserved nature and refined taste. Only Wendy could look so feminine in her tiny Versace glasses and tailored boyish clothes, her long hair pulled back into a simple ponytail.

  Liz lifted a gift bag. “Where do you want the gag gifts?”

  Marie pointed to a gaily decorated table just inside the door. “Put them there and Penny can open them later. I’m going to get a round of drinks.” She grinned at Penny, then skipped out of the room, leaving the three of them alone.

  Penny flushed under Liz’s direct gaze. “What—you couldn’t call and tell us that you and Deke were getting a divorce?”

  “You didn’t call me when you got your last divorce,” Penny pointed out.

  Liz shrugged. “You’d only met Richard once. Besides, I wasn’t exactly torn up about it.”

  Penny lifted her chin slightly.

  “Not that you’re torn up about it,” Wendy said quickly, then winced and touched Penny’s arm. “Are you?”

  “She’s having a party, isn’t she?” Liz said, swatting at an errant balloon.

  “What happened?” Wendy asked, her voice laced with curiosity and concern.

  Penny shrugged and tried to sound philosophical. “Deke found someone else.”

  Liz rolled her eyes. “How young is she?”

  “Young,” Penny admitted. “And … voluptuous. I caught them together … in our bed.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Wendy said, giving her a hug.

  “Well, I’m not,” Liz declared to Penny. “You’ve never looked better in your life, so the divorce must be agreeing with you.”

  “You’re gorgeous,” Wendy agreed.

  “Thanks,” Penny said, knowing they were trying to make her feel better, and letting them.

  “I assume you got the house,” Liz said, tapping her foot.

  “No, but I had a good attorney—I called Gloria Dalton.”

  Liz’s eyebrows climbed. “Gloria is a great attorney—she didn’t get you the house?”

  Penny smiled. “Deke got the house, but I got the rental property across the street.”

  “Which is your health food store,” Wendy said.

  “Right.”

  “Liz pointed it out to me when we drove in—it looks terrific.”

  “Thanks, I really love it. And business is good, knock on wood.”

  Wendy’s dark eyes widened. “But you’re across the street from Deke in the house—that’s kind of icky, isn’t it?”

  “It hasn’t been easy,” Penny conceded. “His girlfriend moved in.”

  “Well,” Liz said dryly, “that explains the pink paint job. I knew that wasn’t your handiwork.”

  Penny made a face and shook her head. “I confronted Deke about it this morning and he said it’s what she wants.”

  Wendy frowned. “Who is this woman?”

  Penny sighed. “The town bimbo, unfortunately. And she owns the local tanning salon.”

  Liz snorted. “Couldn’t Deke at least have been original?”

  “Did the two of you just grow apart?” Wendy asked.

  Good question, one that Penny had asked herself a hundred times. “We must have,” she said carefully. “We were happy for the first few years we lived here, but I was bored working in his law office, so I suggested opening the health food store. Deke was against it, but in the end he gave in—I think he believed it would go under within a couple of months and I’d come back to work with him.” Penny made a rueful noise. “I thought it was a good thing, that maybe we were spending too much time together, but that’s when things started to go south.”

  “Is his mother still alive?” Liz asked.

  Penny nodded. “And she’s still the mayor. She always tried to interfere in our marriage, but Deke stood up to her.” Penny frowned. “At first. Then his practice started to slide. When I left to start the health food store, his business dropped off even more, and his entire personality changed. I think he blamed me for leaving him without an office manager. He was jumpy and irritable, and … paranoid.”

  Liz crossed her arms. “Paranoid?”

  “Paranoid might not be the right word—stressed. He was stressed all the time, working longer and longer hours. That’s when I began to suspect that something was wrong.”

  “Sounds like drugs,” Liz muttered.

  Penny bit down on the inside of her cheek. She had considered the possibility, and it would have explained a lot of things, like his erratic passive-aggressive behavior. “Nothing so dramatic—he was just having a good old-fashioned midlife crisis.”

  “Penny, are you doing okay, really?” Wendy asked.

  Penny nodded. “Some days are harder than others, but overall, yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Did you consider leaving Mojo?” Liz asked.

  Somehow Liz always managed to find Penny’s sore spots. “I might have if my business wasn’t doing so well.” And the sad truth was, she had nowhere else to go. She clasped their hands, eager to change the subject. “How long has it been since we were all together?”

  “Two years,” Liz said. “Your thirtieth birthday.”

  “How long can you stay?”

  “We have to go back to the city right after the party—Wendy’s flying out at the crack of dawn.”

  Penny groaned. “So, catch me up.”

  “Same old, same old for me,” Liz said with a languid smile.

  “Still rich and single, in other words,” Penny said dryly.

  Liz’s laugh tinkled. “It’s a great life, isn’t it, Wendy?”

  “Don’t ask me. I’ve got the single part down, but the rich part has eluded me.”

  “Not true,” Liz said, then looked at Penny. “She just bought a fabulous loft in an artsy section of Atlanta.”

  “Really?” Penny asked, surprised. Wendy had always said she wanted to wait until she married Mr. Right before taking on a mortgage. “That’s wonderful. Your career must be going gangbusters.”

  “She’s been asked to curate an exhibit at the High Museum of Art,” Liz said, then slanted a glance toward their doe-eyed friend. “And she has a mystery boyfriend.”

  Penny lifted her eyebrows. “Do tell.”

  Wendy gave Liz an exasperated glance. “Liz talks too much.”

  A cell phone rang, and Wendy glanced toward her purse.

  “Speak of the devil,” Liz said.

  “Answer it,” Penny encouraged.

  But Wendy seemed nervous and shook her head as the phone continued to ring. It stopped, only to start ringing again a few seconds later.

  “He’s persistent,” Liz declared.

  Wendy bit her lip as she reached into her bag and withdrew the phone.

  Liz leaned over to steal a glance at the screen, and Wendy yanked it back. “Liz, mind your own business!”

  Liz laughed and looked at Penny. “He must really be important—maybe he’s a famous artist.”

  “I need to take this,” Wendy said with a frown, then hurried out the door.

  Liz smirked. “I think she’s doing her boss, Mr. Shepherd.”

  “Why would she want to keep it a secret?”

  “Because he’s married.”

  “Oh.” Penny swallowed. Having been cheated on gave her a different perspective of an affair. If Wendy was seeing Mr. Shepherd, that made her Mrs. Shepherd’s Sheena.

  “I think he bought her the loft,” Liz murmured, “but she won’t talk about it. She’s been as jumpy as a cat since I picked her up at the airport.”

  “It seems out of character for Wendy to get mixed up with a married man.”

  “People change.” Liz glanced after Wendy, then sighed. “Besides, love makes people stupid. You should know that, Penny.”

  Penny looked up. Was Liz talking about her stupidity for marrying Deke, or were the feelings she still had for Deke so transparent?

  Liz’s gaze probed hers. “Look at how Deke has behaved
, for instance.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “Of course, no offense, Penny, but I always thought you could do better than Deke anyway.”

  Penny gave a dry laugh. “Apparently not, since he’s who I wound up with.”

  “You settled.”

  Funny, but Penny had felt lucky at the time, and most of the time since. In fact, she had sometimes wondered if Liz was jealous—not of Deke, but of their relationship. “He was the one who ended the marriage,” she felt obligated to point out.

  Liz gave a dismissive wave with her manicured hand. “You’re so much better off without him. Cheating bastard.”

  “Who?” Wendy asked, rejoining them, her cheeks flushed.

  “Deke, of course,” Liz said lightly. “Who did you think we were referring to?”

  Wendy adjusted her glasses—a nervous habit, Penny recalled. “No one. What did I miss?”

  Liz smiled. “I was just telling Penny that she was too good for Deke Black and that when she falls in love again, she shouldn’t settle. Right, Wendy?”

  Wendy paled. “Right.”

  Penny felt a rush of sympathy for gentle-hearted Wendy. If she’d fallen in love with a married man, she was probably feeling tormented. “And I was just getting ready to tell Liz that—”

  The door opened suddenly, and Penny turned her head. Her pulse jolted at the sight of Sheena’s mystery man standing in the doorway, his broad shoulders spanning the opening, his dark gaze tantalizing. The man was built for carnal sport, and she had no doubt he could … score. Penny wet her lips and murmured, “Sometimes … sex is enough.”

  8

  Top with a few sour grapes …

  A few seconds passed before Penny’s words registered in her own brain. Where had that inane comment come from? She groaned inwardly, blaming Marie’s Hot Voodoo Sex concoction for the misfirings of her nether regions—and her mouth. Meanwhile, the mystery man was giving her the once-over with those heavy-lidded black eyes that glinted with suppressed laughter.

  “Sorry,” he said in a low, smooth rumble. “I was looking for the men’s room.” He glanced down, then bent and retrieved the Congratulations on Your Divorce, Penny! sign that had fallen off the door. “I didn’t mean to crash the party.” He looked up and grinned in her direction. “Are you Penny?”

  She nodded, feeling ridiculous.

  “Thanks for the tip on the Browning Motel this morning.”

  A flush climbed her neck. “No problem.”

  He extended the sign. “And congratulations on being single again.”

  She stood, frozen, staring at his long-fingered hand until Liz bumped her from behind. “Thanks,” Penny mumbled as she took the sign.

  “My pleasure.”

  She had the absurd feeling that if he’d been wearing a hat, he would have tipped it. He gave a curt nod and disappeared.

  After a few heartbeats of silence, Liz bumped her again. “Was that the best you could do—thanks? That man was hot. And he was interested.”

  Penny acknowledged with an exhale that yes, he was indeed hot, then she turned. “Don’t get any ideas. I don’t know his name, but he’s mixed up with Sheena somehow.”

  “Who’s Sheena?”

  “Deke’s girlfriend.”

  Wendy squinted. “Deke’s girlfriend has a boyfriend?”

  “I don’t know—maybe they used to be involved. I saw him drive up to the house this morning. Deke wasn’t home. When Sheena answered, she was wearing something slinky, and it looked like they were arguing.”

  Liz’s eyebrows shot up. “You were spying?”

  Penny’s cheeks flamed. “No. I just happened to be looking out the window.” She didn’t miss the look that Liz exchanged with Wendy. “I’m over Deke,” she assured them, although her voice came out strident and thin. “I … I just couldn’t believe he’d paint my house pink, that’s all.”

  A lazy smile curved Liz’s mouth. “I don’t know, I think it would be kind of poetic if you hooked up with the woman’s ex-boyfriend. If Deke can have a plaything, so can you. What’s good for the goose, and all that jazz.”

  Before Penny could respond, the door opened again and Marie walked in, all smiles, carrying a tray of jewel-toned martinis. “I got an assortment of plain, cherry, and apple, so everyone can help themselves. And I found some of our group!”

  Steve Chasen walked in behind her, followed by two young women whom Marie introduced as friends of hers—Jill and Melissa, both of whom worked at the Hair Affair, and both sporting hairdos as riotous as Marie’s. Diane Davidson arrived a few minutes later, and Penny hardly recognized her because she wasn’t wearing a running suit. The woman seemed hesitant, so Penny went out of her way to make her feel welcome, introducing her to Liz and Wendy. She tried not to let Steve and Marie’s comments about Diane being a witch color her perception of the quiet woman, but she had to admit that she saw her through new eyes. Diane was dressed in a black skirt that swept the floor and a black tunic belted with a long sash embroidered with silver pentagrams. Perhaps coming to the party and wearing a Wiccan symbol was her way of fighting back, of standing up for herself.

  Penny felt a sudden surge of kinship with the woman and vowed to herself that she would try to get to know her better. After all, any woman who scared Deke was worth befriending. Besides, she couldn’t imagine that the Wiccan religion was any more terrifying than the frenzied, snake-handling Pentecostals in the small Tennessee town in which she’d grown up. Every religion, including voodoo, had its exaggerations and misinterpretations by outsiders.

  “Drink up, boss,” Marie urged, handing her a brimming martini glass.

  Penny eyed the liquid warily, trying to gauge her alcohol tolerance based on how long it had been since she’d indulged and the fact that tofu didn’t coat one’s stomach as well as buttered toast did.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” Marie said, wagging a finger. “I don’t want to hear anything about free radicals spinning through your body, or how bad alcohol is for your skin.”

  “It dehydrates you,” Penny muttered.

  Marie sighed. “Just for tonight, let go a little.” She leaned in, her eyes sparkling. “I have a feeling that something really exciting is going to happen to you tonight.”

  Again, the rumors about Marie having ESP flitted through Penny’s mind. Then, inexplicably, her mind bounced to the mystery man and the sexual spark she’d seen in his dark gaze. Was he, by chance, the exciting thing that Marie was forecasting? Penny glanced toward the open door and took a sip of the cold, fruity drink. She winced at the afterburn, but the second sip went down more smoothly … and the third sip more smoothly still.

  By the time that Guy arrived with Carley, his gorgeous “date,” Penny had emptied her glass and was starting to feel the minty tingle of the alcohol swimming toward her brain and extremities. Marie replaced Penny’s empty glass with a full one, and she had finished half of the second drink when Hazel Means stuck her head inside the room.

  “Hazel!” Penny said happily, gesturing wide. “Welcome to my party!”

  The trim, middle-aged woman smiled, but she looked uncomfortable and fingered her hearing aid; Penny suspected that loud, public places were distracting for her. “I can’t stay long, I just came by to wish you the best and to drop off a little something from the souvenir shop.” She set a gift bag on the now overflowing table and winked.

  Penny was touched. “Thank you, Hazel. I realize that you’ve known Deke and his family for years, and that it’s difficult for you to take sides. I appreciate your friendship.”

  Hazel leaned in. “Mona is here, and she knows you’re here. But Chief Davis is out there checking I.D.s, so maybe Mona will leave you alone.”

  Penny winced—she didn’t want to face her ex-mother-in-law tonight of all nights. “Thanks for the warning.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Hazel patted Penny’s arm and turned to go.

  “Oh … Hazel, did you get the mail I dropped off this morning?”

  “
I wondered where that mail came from—it looked like it had been trampled.”

  “Sorry … I, um, dropped it on the way over.”

  “No problem. Thanks.”

  “Hazel—who was at the museum this morning meeting with Deke?”

  Hazel shrugged. “No one that I know of. When was Deke there?”

  “I ran into him when I dropped off the mail.”

  “Well, he has a key to the office. He comes and goes as he pleases.”

  “I know, but I thought I saw someone in the window as I was leaving.” Penny pressed her lips together, knowing they were growing looser by the second but unable to stop. “And someone in the cupola.”

  Hazel laughed. “You must have been seeing things. The door to the cupola was boarded up years ago for security reasons. Nothing up there but bats and fog.”

  Relieved, Penny nodded, but the movement gave her a head rush. “Of course. You’re right—it was foggy this morning.”

  “I have to run. The tourists will be lined up at the museum early tomorrow.”

  Penny waved good-bye, then smiled happily when Ziggy Hines strolled into the room, holding a tall drink and looking well on his way to being sloshed. “You made it, Ziggy.”

  “Not yet,” he said suggestively, his gaze roaming the room. “But I still have high hopes for the evening.” His head stopped. “Who is that woman?”

  Penny turned, not surprised to see him nodding toward Liz on the other side of the room. She was deep in conversation with Wendy.

  “Liz Brockwell,” Penny said. “She was my roommate at LSU, and she lives in the city.”

  He turned his back and rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I’ve seen her in my restaurant. Striking woman.”

  “I can introduce you,” Penny offered.