SEEING DEAD THINGS: A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Novel (Roxie’s Midlife Adventures Book 1)

by Leigh Raventhorne

  “I will totally switch sides. Just until I can find a man that can cook like you do, anyway.”

  “You used to date a guy that could cook. You said he had too much baggage, remember? Maybe Dr. Lane can cook. You should ask him out sometime.”

  She blushed a bit at the mention of the doctor who had handled my head injury. “Maybe I will. Hey, you think you can teach him to make sauce like you do? Because if you can—I may actually propose to him instead of you.”

  “Please do. My divorce isn’t even final yet!”

  That thought sobered us both for a moment. But only until the oven beeped, signaling us that the pizza was ready.

  As we sat eating pizza that oozed cheese with every bite, we reviewed everything that had been happening in mediation and what I could expect at the upcoming mediation we would all be attending. If I was lucky, it would be the final meeting and the divorce would pretty much be a done deal, pending a Judge’s signature.

  “What about the jewelry, Sam? Will he have it there?”

  “He’s supposed to. Make sure you bring your set of keys to the Camaro for the exchange, he’s adamant that he gets to keep the car.”

  “They’re already in my purse. And he can keep that car! I never liked it to begin with. Are we really almost finished with this mess?”

  “We are, Rox. You’re holding up pretty well so far, I have to say,” she eyed me thoughtfully.

  “Well, it helps when I have a rockstar lawyer, who is also a rockstar friend.” We both laughed at that.

  “So,” she continued, as she stood to clear away the plates, “now that that’s settled, I’ll clean up here in the kitchen, and then we can talk about boys!”

  Laughing, “How about we clean up in the kitchen, since I made this huge mess, then I’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee and we’ll talk about boys.”

  “Ooh. Coffee. Who cares about boys?” she laughed.

  ***

  Early the next morning, Sam and I took the Jeep over to my house, planning to load it up with as much as it would hold. Tess and Annie were going to join us in an hour or so, giving us time to take ‘before’ pictures of the house. Tess was bringing totes and boxes left from a recent move.

  I deactivated the security system while Sam took a quick walk around the house to make sure everything was undisturbed and to take pictures with her phone. I went inside and started taking pictures of each room from different angles, using my phone. Shaking my head, I was still amazed by these little smart phones and how we could barely function without them anymore.

  “You should use video for this part.”

  I jumped when Sam spoke from right behind me, nearly dropping my phone. “Give a girl some warning next time!”

  Laughing, she looked around. “Tell you what. How about I do the video walk-through. You can go behind me and open some windows to get the mustiness out. Then we can start cataloging what’s what and whether you want to keep anything here, sell it with the house, or whatever.”

  Both of us got to work. Before we knew it Tess and Annie arrived, each carrying in an armload of totes. Annie set hers down first and I saw her shirt. It read ‘Um . . . Nope’ on the front. She turned and I laughed as I read the back . . . ‘Still Nope’. I loved her shirts.

  “Hey Girls! I figured we could use these first. If we need them I’ll bring the boxes in later,” Tess said, setting the totes in the middle of the living room. “Where’s the coffee? I’ve only been up for about an hour.”

  Sam and I looked at each other and cracked up. Tess was always straight to the point. That’s why we loved her. The woman absolutely ran on coffee. If it would have been possible to put it in an I.V. bag to port it into her bloodstream faster, she would have done it—with a cup of coffee in her hand at the same time.

  “I’ll go put a pot on right now.”

  “And, hey. Who are the two old people across the street? They were eyeballing us like we were going to come in and rob you.”

  Sam rushed to the front door. “The Delaneys! I should have warned them. I’ll be right back.”

  As I filled the carafe with water and prepped the coffee pot, Annie strode into the kitchen. “Where do you want me to start?”

  “Oh, um, how about just a general wipe down for the surfaces first, then we’ll figure everything else out. I’ll tackle the fridge—I know it has to be bad in there. It hasn’t even been open in what, five weeks now?”

  “The power is on. It shouldn’t be that bad,” she said, opening the fridge door. “Eh. I’ve seen worse. Way worse. I’ll grab a garbage bag and just toss anything that’s expired or iffy.” She grabbed the box of garbage bags from where I directed her and got right to work. Yes, I had awesome friends.

  The coffee was done in minutes. As soon as we each grabbed a cup we got back to what we were doing. I couldn’t believe the creamer was still good. What the heck kind of chemicals did they put in there?

  Tess was tackling the dining room, packing up my mother’s china from the china cabinet. She had thought to bring packing materials, thank goodness. Sam had gone upstairs with a couple totes and was going to work on clearing one of my dressers. I had already packed up most of my closet, using two of the suitcases from the set Steven and I had splurged on a few years ago for a vacation. I filled the other two with his stuff. Everything else of his was going into either boxes or garbage bags. I brought both of his suitcases downstairs to take out to the garage, figuring I would store all of his stuff in there for now. I paused long enough to grab a bottle of water from the now sparkling refrigerator.

  “Wow, Annie. I don’t think it was this clean when it was new.” The woman was amazing.

  She smiled and pointed to the pantry. “What about all of the foodstuff?”

  I knew what it looked like in there. Steven had always insisted I keep it well-stocked. “If there’s anything you can use, take it. I may take some things to Sam’s—in fact, you know what she has and what she doesn’t, since you shop for her. Why don’t you take anything that you know she uses and set it aside. We’ll take it back with us tonight if there’s room left in the Jeep.”

  She chewed her lip for a moment. “Are you sure? Won’t you use any of this?”

  “I am absolutely sure. This house is going to sit empty for who knows how long. That stuff will just end up expiring. If you don’t want it, it goes to the Food Bank.”

  She nodded and I let out a mental sigh of relief. She worked harder than anyone else I knew. If she could use any of the food, I was more than glad to give it.

  “I’m going to take one of the totes out to the Jeep and then figure out what to do with Steven’s things. Holler if you need anything.”

  I went back into the living room, grabbing the tote, and headed toward the front door. Before I had quite made it there, the second to the last person I ever wanted to see again stepped in. Michelle.

  She looked around the room, taking in the totes and Steven’s two suitcases sitting near the door. Her glare returned to me. “What are you doing?”

  I made a show of looking around, as she had. “I’m packing.”

  “You can’t take anything out of my dad’s house!”

  “I’m pretty sure I can take anything I want out of my house. My name is on the mortgage, too. In fact, the majority of the down payment was made by me.”

  “This is my dad’s house, you hag! If you take one thing out of here, I’ll call the police!”

  Hag? Had she looked in the mirror lately? Her hair looked like she had just rolled out of bed. And I could see her dark roots and split ends from here. She actually looked a bit . . . rough. Her appearance had always been more important to her than anything else. Maybe her dad being in jail had affected her pretty badly. I immediately began to feel sorry for her.

  “Listen, Michelle. I know we haven’t always gotten along. But what your dad did to me was wrong. I was in the hospital for weeks with my jaw wired shut.”

  She put her hand on her hip, thrusting her chin up
. “Too bad it’s not still wired shut. And my dad didn’t do that to you. He said your clumsy ass tripped, and you fell out by the pool.”

  Why you little . . .

  Sighing, I tried again. “Then why did he run, Michelle? Why did the police arrest him? Why did the neighbors hear him yelling at me and feel the need to call the police?”

  “Because you’re a lying bitch, that’s why! You told the cops he hit you when he didn’t, just because you—”

  I snapped my hand up. “Stop right there, Michelle. You’ve never listened to me, but you are going to listen today. When Steven hit me, I was knocked unconscious. I couldn’t have talked to the cops if I had wanted to. I was in a coma—a coma—for a week. I couldn’t communicate with anybody, let alone the police, for almost two weeks. Your dad was already in jail by then. Whatever he told you? He lied. I have never, ever lied to you. Not once. You have done nothing but disrespect me from the moment you walked into my life. I never tried to take the place of your mom. I did my best to make you feel wanted here. I always tried to do right by you.” At this point I was counting off on my fingers to her. But it felt so good to get this all out. “And you? You treated me like I was your maid, when you deigned to even acknowledge me. You took and took, without so much as a thank you.”

  She stared at me, stunned. Her lower lip wobbled a bit. Then . . . “BRAD! Get in here.”

  Pencil neck, I mean Brad, quickly stepped in behind her, looking like he would rather be anyplace but here. “H-Hi, Mrs. Bell.” Michelle smacked his arm, not even looking back at him.

  “How dare you speak to me that way. My dad’s attorney is going to chew you up and spit you out. You won’t have a bowl to piss in when he—”

  “Pot, Michelle. It’s a pot to piss in. What exactly did you learn at that expensive college?” I asked, crossing my arms and leaning on the foyer wall.

  I’ve always wondered what ‘spitting fire’ looked like. From the look in her eyes, I was probably going to find out.

  “You get out of this house, right now. Brad—make her leave!” she demanded, smacking his arm again and gesturing at me. I looked at him with my eyebrows up.

  “W-What? I-I don’t think—”

  I seriously felt sorry for the poor boy.

  “Oh, dammit Brad, just get her out of here!” Michelle ordered.

  His mouth moved, but no sounds came out this time. He reminded me a bit of a goldfish. He backed up a few steps, out onto the porch landing.

  Michelle made a sound of disgust and then latched onto my arm, pulling me toward the door. I outweighed her by at least thirty pounds, so she had to work at it. I was still considering how hard I wanted to make it for her when Sam spoke up from the top of the stairwell.

  “That. Is. Enough, Michelle Bell. Remove your hands from my client this instant. You have exactly five seconds to vacate these premises before I call the police.”

  “You can’t make me. This is my dad’s house!” she screeched.

  “I can make you—or rather the police can—and I have everything you just said and did recorded. Smile for the camera.” She angled her phone up so Michelle would see it better. “I can just as easily get a Personal Protection Order served against you, as I did your father. Take your hands off my client and leave. Now!”

  There were few who could stand up to Samantha Stone when she used that tone of voice. Heck, I almost turned to leave.

  Michelle released my arm and took a couple steps back. “This isn’t—”

  “Oh for crying out loud, Michelle. If you say ‘this isn’t over’, I’m calling the Cliche Police. Now get out of my house.”

  The half-second of confusion that crossed her expression was replaced instantly with rage. She paused to look around the small foyer, snatching the small vase of artificial flowers that sat on the entry table. She launched them at me, then turned to bolt out the door. Reflexively, I threw my hands up to protect my face and I felt a—push of energy, just as she opened the door. Somehow the vase that had been coming straight at me missed, hitting the wall just inches from my head. She flew over the two front steps, landing hard on the sidewalk. As Brad helped her up, she shot me a look of pure venom.

  Shocked, I still managed to call out after her, “You always sucked at sports!” And then I collapsed to the floor.

  Sam rushed down the stairs, but Annie and Tess reached me first. “Are you okay?” Annie’s eyes were huge. Tess looked angry.

  “I’m fine. Really,” I insisted, as they helped me up off the floor. I suddenly—felt better.

  Sam shook her head. “I don’t think that’s the last we’ll see of her. Or should I say that you’ll see of her.” She held up her phone. “But this will help.”

  Sighing, I knew she was right. Michelle would be a problem.

  We quickly finished packing up as much as possible and called it a day. Annie and Tess would meet us back here tomorrow to finish up. Steven’s clothing and personal items would be boxed up and stored in the garage until I contacted a storage facility. Most of the things I wanted to keep were already packed up in the back of my Jeep.

  Chapter 21

  Wednesday morning found us in the mediations room at the courthouse. I was so not ready for this. I wore both the opal pendant and the little black ring as a precaution, remembering Rosemary’s warnings. The Power Ring was in my purse, simply because I wasn’t used to wearing so much jewelry, but I wanted it close.

  We arrived far earlier than our appointment time. Sam has always had a thing about never being late. Her motto went way beyond the usual ‘if you’re not ten minutes early, consider yourself late’ saying. Hers was more like ‘twenty minutes early. Period’. We settled in to wait for Steven and his attorney and went over everything one more time. By the time they arrived—five minutes late—I almost felt like I could do this.

  For a good hour, Sam and the other attorney—Isaac B. Holden, his business card read—went over every asset we had accumulated over the past ten years. Sam was going for an equitable division of assets, which I had agreed was fair enough. I listened, studying Steven’s attorney while Steven stared at me, scowling. Mr. Holden was probably close to our age and wore an expensive looking suit and tie but, other than that, was fairly nondescript. Brownish hair, pale blue eyes, average height, and a face that was neither attractive nor ugly. In short, he was—unmemorable.

  By contrast, Steven looked . . . rough. And not in a good way—his eyes were bloodshot, he needed a shave, and his hair was unkempt. He had on a suit as well, but it was ill-fitting. I don’t think I had ever seen him like this before. I hadn’t seen him carry anything in with him, so I wondered where my jewelry was.

  Steven’s glare was starting to get to me. His attorney must have advised him to remain quiet and let him do the negotiating. I was just shocked that he had listened. Steven absolutely hated being told what to do. Just as I was going to ask if we could take a break, he spoke up. Both Sam and Steven’s lawyer turned to look at us.

  “Come on, Roxie, you don’t really want this, do you? Listen to all of this. We built a good life together. We should work through it. You know, go to some counseling or something. I was going to say something when I saw you—you look really good. Did you lose weight? There’s no need for all of this,” he motioned to the two attorneys. His wheedling voice was at odds with the scowl on his face.

  Stunned, I didn’t know what to say. Under the table, Sam grabbed my hand and gave a reassuring squeeze.

  Sam raised a brow at my soon-to-be-ex husband. “Mr. Bell, you assaulted my client and put her in the hospital for three weeks. You then fled the scene, leaving her bleeding next to the pool. I have both the police and the hospital records with me, if we need to refresh your memory. She had bleeding on the brain and was in a coma for a week. You left her with a broken jaw. They had to put in plates and screws to put it back together. Counseling can’t fix that.”

  Steven turned his glare to Sam, as his attorney leaned back and watched with interest. “Yo
u. This is your fault. You put these ideas into her head!” he spat at her. “I hardly touched her! She fell!”

  I couldn’t remain quiet any longer. “Steven Bell! You punched me in the face hard enough to knock me down. You nearly killed me! I remember everything. I remember the murder in your eyes. I even remember you spitting all over me while you yelled at me. Most of all, I remember the fear and the pain. I will always remember that. We haven’t been happy for a long time, Steven. I haven’t been able to do or say anything to make you happy for years. I’m tired, Steven. I’m tired of what I want, never mattering, of everything being about you. I’m tired of giving up every little piece of myself, just because you think I should be at your beck and call. I’m done with that. You either agree to what’s on the table now or I’ll go after absolutely everything.”

  Sam turned to me during my outburst. I ignored her as she wiped a fake tear from her eye and put her hand to her chest like a proud mother. Somehow, I managed not to roll my eyes. Steven’s lawyer just frowned at us both.

  “You can’t do that!” my soon-to-be-ex hissed at me. Turning to his attorney, “She can’t do that, right? Tell her.”

  “I’m afraid she can, Steven. There’s a small chance she might not win, but the deck is stacked heavily in her favor. If you want to fight this, it will be long and expensive. And you will probably end up paying her attorney fees if you lose,” his lawyer replied evenly. He nodded toward Sam. “What Ms. Stone is proposing is pretty standard. Mrs. Bonacci-Bell will be awarded half of everything, including what the house sells for, in exchange for an uncontested divorce. It really could go much worse for you. And, according to this, she will drop the assault charges, though the PPO will remain in place.”

  “And my jewelry. I want the jewelry you took out of our safe, Steven,” I threw in. “That was an inheritance that you don’t have any right to. You were supposed to bring it.”