by CC Dragon
“Gross.” Matt looked around at the offerings in the shop far off any beaten path.
“Evil.” I shot Lester a look.
“I’m not selling spells or conjuring. Nothing. Every spell or potion is DIY from now on. I swear.” Lester held up his hands.
“The people and powers you serve lie so I’ll just have to keep checking on you.” I let myself soak in the truth of Lester’s actions and the happenings of the shop. He wasn’t lying this time.
Lester was playing nice and keeping a low profile for now.
“You work here alone?” Matt asked.
“No, I have some part-time help now and then. I don’t cater to tourists. My stuff is all real and not for amusement or souvenirs. You must seek me out for this stuff. Plenty do. Business is good.” Lester smiled.
“I never see anyone here,” I replied.
“You come only when the sun is high. The darkness reveals more than the light when it comes to what I peddle.” Lester looked me in the eye.
The man was shameless.
“If that’s an invitation, I can come back around midnight. Might hurt your business, though,” I teased.
“You’d triple my business and up the word of mouth a million times. If people think you think I’m a threat, I’ll be a rich man,” Lester said.
Matt snickered. “So we won’t be back.”
“No. Not unless Lester gets out of line and we have to recheck our balanced truce, right?” I nodded to Lester.
“Of course. I’m happy with the way things are. I’ll see you at the opening of that club, I’m sure.”
The phone rang and Lester turned to answer it.
“Sure, bye,” I said.
Lester waved as Matt and I exited the small building.
“That is one creepy guy,” Matt said.
We took a brief walk around the building then got back into the SUV.
“I know. I just like to keep tabs on him,” I said.
“He’s mid-level. Mojo but not big time. The real dark players won’t hang out a shingle,” Matt said.
“True, but I’m not sure I’m strong enough to bring down the big players of evil yet. Not alone. Not now. He’s a link to them. I’m not even sure my fight is to take them down. Like the club, they’ll just resurface with another name or face. My job always has been to keep humans safe. Stop the evil hurting them. We all have a role to play.” I looked out the window and spotted Amy flying alongside the car. She didn’t want to ride inside with us?
“You do what you need to do. But I have faith in you. You could take on the armies of evil around here,” Matt said.
“I’d need an army of angels but if that fight comes, I’m sure the angels will, too. I wish it were that easy. One big fight. Life isn’t that simple,” I said.
“Nope. Hell is on Earth.” Matt flipped the radio station to something about sports.
“Sorry to ruin the dream but Hell is not here. It is much worse than anything you’ve ever dreamed of.” I’d only sensed Hell from Heaven’s waiting area but the vibrations alone made me want to flee.
“Oh well. I wonder what Charlie Manson’s hell is like,” Matt pondered.
“A void. No mirrors. No reporters. No attention of any kind. Just a black void away from people and away from God.” I shook off the chill. “Just guessing. I’ll ask Gran next time I visit.”
“What just happened there?” Matt asked.
“No clue but I’m not dwelling on it right now.” I had a lot of powers. Some were always advancing, even in little ways. Had I just channeled the view of someone in Hell? I didn’t like that.
“Well, let’s get you home. Big double date tonight,” Matt teased.
“I wish you’d join us. Poor Paul.” I pulled out my phone and texted him to ground myself and get my head out of the spooky eerie places.
“Sorry, but I do like your idea about a vacation,” Matt said as he listened to the Saints game on the radio. I could tell him how the game would end but why ruin his good time?
Chapter Two
Double dates were awkward even when couples were friends, or the couple were more or less equal. Paul and I were a new couple while Mary Lou and Greg—well, that’s harder to define but they had a lot more drama.
Paul was a psychiatrist, so nothing really fazed him, but that didn’t mean these two couldn’t scare him away.
I’d filled the odd silence talking about Lester and my suggestion that Matt and Gunnar take a trip. Mary Lou went on about Florida.
“I think I’d love to go to Disney World for my next honeymoon. I never got to go as a child,” Mary Lou said.
“Me either. Not sure I’d enjoy it the same now.” I tried to think of a way to steer talk away from marriage and honeymoons. I didn’t need Paul freaking out about that, either. No rush here.
“How is the rehab facility going?” Greg asked.
Paul nodded. “Well. We’ve staffed up. Brody is a good office manager. We have a wait list. But the trick is we need a sober living facility to help the patients once they’re detoxed and completed the base treatment. A step between full treatment and normal life.”
“A halfway house,” Greg said.
“Sort of. Some structure and accountability but more freedom and chances to face their temptations and history. Ideally, we’d own one of those as well.” Paul shrugged to me.
“I agree, but one step at a time,” I replied.
“Mrs. Weathers’ grant to the charity should help,” Greg said.
“I thought I told you,” Mary Lou pouted. “Lance is challenging the will and the divorce. John is telling him it’s no use as far as the will but he’s going to make it hard on everyone. Matt can’t sell the mansion yet.”
I wasn’t in the mood for Lance bashing. “I’m holding that money separately until the drama is done. That could fund the sober living unit and so much more but we’re not rushing into this.”
“Lance is hurting people because his pride is hurt. John needs to talk to him. Matt is too nice,” Mary Lou snarked.
“Matt has his own issues. John is moving on. You need to the let courts do their job and not stress,” Greg said.
“I agree. Mary Lou, you’ve been through a lot and there is no rush to make a lot of decisions. Keep yourself busy and heal. Big changes can happen slowly over time.” I sipped my water.
Mary Lou took a long drink of her wine. “You and Paul work together and are starting a big new charity project. I could warn you off of that.”
I knew what she meant and I wasn’t going to feed her defensiveness.
“I think we’re both mature enough to work together even if things don’t progress personally,” Paul said diplomatically.
“Don’t do that. Don’t go all high and mighty. I’ve seen that enough. Deanna might live in a mansion but she’s not a high-class snob,” Mary Lou shot back.
That was enough. I put my hand on Paul’s knee subtly under the table to keep him from engaging. “Mary Lou, I can manage my own situations. I’m no snob but good manners aren’t about class. Just because people don’t want to share all their personal gossip or tidbits with everyone doesn’t mean they are unemotional or closed off.”
“Lance,” she said.
“I know. I’m sorry your marriage was so hard, and Lance was a barbarian throwback to men from days before women could even vote, but not all men are like that. Heck, his own brothers aren’t. You’re hurting but you can’t take it out on everyone,” I said softly.
“Lance is here.” She glared at me and looked back to the door.
Lance was, in fact, stomping through the fancy restaurant headed right for us.
Greg stood up as though he’d defend Mary Lou.
“Sit down,” I hissed at Greg.
A staff member was right behind Lance trying to see what he wanted. Greg didn’t sit and Paul set his napkin on the table.
“No, don’t. It’s not worth it,” I whispered to Paul.
Paul was tall with brown hair
and a calm approach. He was Cajun as well, on his father’s side. With a last name like LeBlanc, the Cajun was obvious. His mother’s side was Jewish but I didn’t know their origins country-wise. I was hoping whatever it was tempered the hot-bloodedness Cajuns were famous for.
I didn’t want to screw up this relationship with my friend drama.
“I’ve already been replaced, I see!” Lance shouted.
“You want to make a scene?” I asked him.
“I tried, Deanna. I really tried to be civil and keep this quiet. But Mary Lou taking up with him again so soon? I know she’s not in her own room in your house,” Lance raged.
“It’s my life and I want it back.” Mary Lou shot out of her chair and threw a wine glass as Lance.
Paul dodged the wine glass—Mary Lou was no baseball player.
“Sir, please,” our waiter tried to intervene.
Lance took a picture of our group around table. “You never stopped sleeping with him. You get nothing. Cheating wives don’t get to walk away with diamonds and my family’s money.”
“That’s a lie,” Greg said.
“Prove it,” Lance challenged.
“Sir, we’ll have to call security,” the manager approached.
“I’m leaving. Just gathering evidence personally.” Lance stormed off.
The wait staff cleaned up the spilt wine and glass as our food arrived.
“Personally? I’d expect he’s having you followed,” Paul said.
Mary Lou frowned. “What I do now doesn’t matter.”
“It’s Lance. He probably has a team of PIs investigating you—past and present. Be prepared,” I said.
“No more Lance talk.” She leaned over and kissed Greg.
Paul and I shared a look. He got a lot of boyfriend points for enduring this evening.
The next day, things felt almost normal once everyone was off to work. Ivy and Brody plus Matt and Mary Lou were out. Gunnar was going over things with the new housekeeper guy.
Greg poured himself a third cup of coffee.
“Things okay?” I asked.
“I don’t want to discuss Mary Lou,” he said.
“Fine. How was the church?” I switched topics.
“Unpleasant. Like a time warp. They claim to be Bible-based but they’re selecting teachings that suit their purpose. Women in skirts, no makeup, and long hair. Women must be subordinate.” He gave me a pained look. He knew I’d hate it.
“Lovely. Like those polygamists out west?” I asked.
“Sort of, but no multiple wives or any of that. Feels really out of place in modern times. I can see spare the rod and spoil the child going over well.” Greg shook his head.
“Any evidence of abuse in the open?”
“No. Pastor Cole was welcoming but not detailed. They are on the outskirts of New Orleans. Most of the parishioners are outside of the city in a small town. I think they’re trying to win converts. Save the souls of the heathens in the city.” He downed his coffee.
“You okay?”
He sighed. “Yes. I’ll go on Sunday and see what it’s like.”
“I can go, too,” I offered.
He laughed. “No, you’d lose your temper or catch on fire. Gunnar was trying to play it straight and failing. I’ll take Mary Lou, she can fake it.”
“Good. Now when I asked if you were okay—I meant Mary Lou. Lance’s crashing the date was awful. He’s not going to let up.” Lance would fit in at this weird little church.
“She’s upset by Lance. He is going to make her life hell.” Greg paced the kitchen.
“And yours. I’m not telling you what to do but cooling it until she’s divorced might not be the worst thing,” I suggested.
“Mary Lou won’t see it that way,” Greg replied.
“What about you?” I pressed.
“She’s vulnerable. We have a history.” Greg poured another cup of coffee.
“You’re going to get a caffeine headache,” I warned.
“I know. I just can’t—I feel like part of this is my fault. Their marriage breaking up is a shock,” he said.
“No, it’s not. Mrs. Weathers died. It had nothing to do with you. I’m not trying to hurt you but Mary Lou has plenty of money and friends. She can live without a boyfriend for a few months,” I said.
“I had a hand in damaging their marriage. I won’t let myself off the hook for that,” he said.
“Ugh, go to confession. That much Catholic guilt is only hurting you. If you and Mary Lou don’t work, don’t torture yourself. Let the guilt go and move on. She’ll live,” I said.
He sighed. “Not to be mean but you need to mind your own business.”
I held up my hands. “Fair enough. I’m having lunch alone with Paul to try and make it up to him. Double dates might be a bad idea for Mary Lou. She’s a bit bitter.”
“Paul handled himself well. Mary Lou is very fragile and upset lately. She tries to keep it normal and put a smile on her face but Lance isn’t helping.” He dumped out his coffee. “I’m going to research the pastor and his family.”
“Sounds like a plan. Let me know if you need backup. I can be polite,” I said.
“This church isn’t about polite. It’d piss off most people—at least those who think women are capable of more than cooking, cleaning, and childrearing.” Greg smiled painfully.
“Yeah, that would be bad,” I admitted. “I’m going to go and forget that church exists right now.”
“Smart move. But we can’t report them over antiquated philosophies. Freedom of religion,” he pointed out.
“I know. But if people are leaving because of abuse, some are stuck there. We need to investigate it properly,” I countered.
“I’ll update Matt. Make sure he jumps in when he thinks it’s necessary.” Greg nodded.
“Sounds good. I’m going to run some errands before lunch.” I put my coffee mug in the sink and headed for the door.
“Have fun,” he said.
“You too.” I grabbed my purse and left the house. Paul would be such a welcome break. I should’ve checked my makeup or hair, but it was only lunch.
Chapter Three
“Is this church new?” Paul asked Greg.
We were gathered around our usual table at the back of the Long and Big Easy. Ivy was managing and Brody was onstage.
“It’s new to New Orleans. It seems like the group has been together for a while. Very close. Very wary of strangers. They seemed nice at the Sunday service but if you inquire about volunteering or something more—they sort of close ranks a bit. They claim they have enough.” Greg frowned.
“Sounds sketchy.” I sipped my water. “Who moves a church around?”
Paul smirked at me. “You really were raised strictly Catholic.”
Greg chuckled.
I shrugged. “Sorry, it’s my norm. If churches aren’t reliable, what can you rely on?”
“It could be as simple as they lost their lease. The owners decided to sell the building. Or if they were trouble. Not everyone owns their church property,” Greg replied.
“Who trusts some pop-up church?” I looked over the research on Greg’s tablet. “I swear this looks like Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman without the nice hair and makeup.”
“Not quite Victorian but Little House on the Prairie. I agree,” Paul said.
Greg nodded. “It’s old school but look at the world today. Shootings and hackers. People have no sense of right and wrong anymore. They only care about themselves. If they are offended, someone else must pay. The Bible is full of prophecies coming true if you look at the world.”
“You’re freaking me out, Greg. Do I need to start stocking water and non-perishable food?” I teased.
Greg didn’t laugh. “The antichrist, the four horsemen, the seals.”
I shared a look with Paul.
“If you look at history, many times people thought it was the end of times. When the black death spread all over Europe. A plague of that magnitude, who can bl
ame them? The world wars. Maybe people thought Hitler was the antichrist figure.” Paul sounded so rational and calm.
Which was good because I wanted to tell Greg he was sounding nuts. “It’s one wacky church. I’m all for live and let live, but if they are hurting people or violating the rights of women and children and calling it a religion—nope.”
“Religions have rights,” Greg said.
“Sure. So do people. That’s why we’re investigating. I’m not rushing to shut them down. I’m also not jumping to Armageddon because a lot of people have crap attitudes and the news exploits every incident to the fullest. It wasn’t like this when we were little. God, now I sound old.” I grabbed some snack mix from the bowl.
Paul smiled. “Not old. You’re right. Our communication abilities are magnified exponentially. Everyone has a computer in their hand that can take video, share information, and search for anything in the world. That smart phone can be used for good or evil. I have a colleague who is doing a study to quantify if bullying really is worse than say, in the eighties.”
“Statistics would support bullying is a much bigger problem,” Greg said.
“Or can you just prove it? I was teased and bullied for being weird,” I defended.
“Exactly.” Paul pointed at me. “Phones can record conversation, video, and so on. Social media makes it possible to bully someone 24/7 and to document the bullying. Before, it was simply one person’s word against another’s.”
“I’ll be interested to see the results of the study,” Greg said.
His eyes were on the door. I turned and saw Mary Lou, Matt, and Gunnar walk in. Matt had gone to Lance’s apartment to try to reason with his brother. I hadn’t realized Mary Lou had gone along.
Gunnar came over as Matt and Mary Lou both went for the bar.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“No. Lance doesn’t lose well. He wants nothing to change and Matt can’t even reason with him. John has tried but to Lance, John has everything—new bride, great career and a lot of money. Lance is losing everything.” Gunnar sat next to me. “We managed to get them to agree to arbitration. It’d be faster than court but I think Lance will just use it to drag things out and make Mary Lou miserable.”
