A Mansion, A Drag Queen, And A New Job (Deanna Oscar Paranormal Mystery, #1)

by CC Dragon

  A Mansion, A Drag Queen, and A New Job

  By CC Dragon

  A Deanna Oscar Paranormal Mystery

  DISCLAIMER:

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  A Mansion, A Drag Queen, and A New Job

  Deanna Oscar Paranormal Mystery Book 1

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  A Mansion, A Drag Queen, and A New Job Copyright© 2015 CC Dragon

  Editor: M. Witvliet

  Cover Design: Coverkicks.com

  This work has been updated and retitled.

  It was previously published as:

  I’m Okay, You’re Dead

  By Cheryl Dragon

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Note from the Author:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  About the Author

  Want More?

  Note from the Author:

  This book was originally published in 2007 as I’m Okay, You’re Dead. It has been edited/revised. The book takes place in spring of 2005 (before Hurricane Katrina). Please take that into account (smartphones weren’t widely available and affordable until around 2007.)

  Book 2 in this series takes place after Katrina and it impacts the storyline. Since I think it’s an important part of the character’s journey and the city is a critical part of the series...I’m sticking to it.

  Thank you for understanding and reading!

  Dedication

  For my critique partners, writer friends, and fans who wanted to see this series return!

  Your support and belief in me has been wonderful! It’s been several years but I think now is the right time...

  Chapter One

  I was supposed to get into the third cab.

  There was no earthly reason for me to follow my sixth sense. I was only in New Orleans for a job interview. This wasn’t the time to get sidetracked because of psychic visions.

  Unfortunately, the instinct wasn’t going away. It nagged like a conscience. If I argued with the voices in my head, I really would be crazy.

  The third cab it was. As I settled in the backseat, nothing immediately hit me. The middle-aged black woman behind the wheel put the car in gear and swerved away from the curb. A gold and orange rosary rocked from the rearview mirror.

  “Where to?” Her Cajun accent was so thick I had to concentrate on the question.

  “Chateau Hotel please.”

  She turned the car sharply and a voodoo doll slid out from behind my head and stared at me. The little pins stuck in its eyes said this was not a tourist trinket. “Rosaries and voodoo dolls?”

  The driver laughed deeply. “First time in New Orleans?”

  “Is it that obvious?” I studied the inside of the cab for a clue as to why I was supposed to be here. The driver believed deeply in her faith. There was no danger headed for us.

  The picture of a pretty young girl on the visor caught my eye like she could see right through me. Rubbing my upper arms against the sudden chill of death, I probably did look crazy. The air outside was sweltering.

  She was why I had to be in this cab. That little girl.

  Slowly, a gray outline of the picture superimposed over the face and then crumbled into ashes. My blood ran cold. That girl wouldn’t last twenty-four hours. I closed my eyes and rubbed the image away, pretending to have an itch.

  “Is that your daughter?” I took a deep breath.

  “Granddaughter. I’m Cecelia, she’s Little Cel, named after me.” The woman oozed pride.

  “She’s adorable. Has she been sick lately?” I couldn’t see how she’d die. All I got was that she’d be left alone and attacked by some stranger. I hated the feeling of knowing but not knowing enough.

  “No, she’s naturally skinny. Eats like a bottomless pit though. Why?” Her last word came out with a whisper of concern.

  “Keep an eye on her, okay?” Death premonitions were the worst. Or so I’d thought. Death premonitions about children, I’d just discovered, topped all others—hands down.

  “What do you mean?” She looked over her shoulder at me while stopped at a red light.

  “I know you’ll probably think I’m crazy, but she’s in danger. You can’t leave her alone.” Maybe she’d trust me. Maybe she’d think I was a nut. I couldn’t shut up, that was a problem of mine.

  “She’s only eight, she’s never alone.” Cecelia blew out her tension.

  “Good. Just please don’t leave her alone. There’s someone dangerous in that neighborhood out to harm children, if given the chance.” People didn’t always believe me. At least I tried.

  “You don’t want to go to the hotel.” A voice next to me interrupted my mental gymnastics. More details on the possible murder might help avoid it but now I’d attracted someone.

  Ghosts showed up wherever I went. After twenty-six years, I was used to it. Talking to the ghost in front of the cabbie might just get me taken to a mental institution but I looked over to gauge what I was dealing with.

  The semitransparent woman looked to be in her eighties but oddly familiar. Like someone I’d dreamt of. Suddenly her appearance changed to that of a thirty-something woman, but the same person. The scariest part was the similarities of her to me.

  I scooted closer to the door as I categorized her features. Thick wavy brown hair and piercing green eyes. Medium frame and pale skin. The resemblance went deeper. “Who are you?”

  “You okay back there, sugar?” Cecelia asked.

  “Yeah, just a ghost. Nothing to worry about.” I smiled.

  Cecelia paused and then nodded.

  The ghost smiled. “I’m glad you’re not afraid of your own grandmother. We need to go to 1300 Carmen Court.”

  “My grandmother? You don’t look anything like Grammy.” Mom’s mom died when I was in college.

  “No, we’ve never met, dear. I’m Elinor Oscar. Your father never visited or let you visit. You, however, came at just the right time.”

  “I have an interview at Tulane University. The reason I came is to teach psychology. It’s nice to meet you, I’ve always been curious about you.” I’d never met her or even seen her picture. “Dad said you weren’t well. Dementia. Of course they thought my seeing ghosts and parts of the future were crazy too.”

  “You’re not crazy, Deanna. No more than I was. Being a psychic medium has its drawbacks but you don’t have a choice.”

  “You too?” I shifted to face her.

  “Yes, it runs in the family. Since you’re my family. You don’t stay at a hotel. 1300 Carmen Court.” She folded her hands neatly in her lap and nodded to the driver.r />
  I’d forgotten all about Cecelia while talking with my ghost Gran. “Can we go to 1300 Carmen Court instead, please?” I rubbed my forehead as change of plans settled in. My job interview wouldn’t be the highlight of my trip to New Orleans.

  “It’s your dime.” Cel spun the wheel and made a U-turn like a pro.

  Would I ever have a normal life?

  * * * * *

  When the cab stopped, I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Is this Tara?”

  The cab driver laughed at me. “Antebellum, mid-eighteen hundreds so it’s as close as you’ll get in these parts, Miss Scarlett. This is the historic Garden District. So you’re an Oscar?”

  “Yes.” My last name had never gotten this sort of recognition.

  “So you’ve really got the gift?”

  “Gift. Curse. Whatever it is, I’ve got it.” She hadn’t blinked at my prediction before but no doubt there were a lot of psychics running around New Orleans making a good living.

  “I’ll make sure my Little Cel is safe. Oscars tend to be right about these things.” She looked back at the picture.

  “Good.” I dug through my purse and handed over the fare. “Thanks.”

  I exited the cab and headed up the long walkway to the door with my rolling suitcase in tow. Pressing the doorbell, I looked back to ask Gran exactly who would be there but she was gone. Ghosts and spirits had the worst timing and bad manners.

  The large front door creaked open and I turned to find a short Latino drag queen in white shorts, a flower-print blouse and a blonde wig. “Yes,” she said.

  “Hi, I’m Deanna Oscar. Elinor Oscar asked me to come by.” Now whether I got a door slammed in my face or laughed at all depended on who this queen was. This trip was definitely not going as planned.

  “You know she’s dead, right?” A long gel nail gestured in the air.

  “Yes. She said I should stay here while I’m in New Orleans. I’m her granddaughter.”

  “I recognize the name. The lawyer has been trying to locate you for weeks. Elinor said you’d show up. Of course we all assumed it’d be before she kicked the bucket. Come in.” She opened the door wider.

  I entered the stunning home and set my suitcase aside.

  “A lawyer was looking for me? I never got any messages.” That was my parents doing, no doubt.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll call the lawyer and Greg. We can have the will reading today, if they’re free.”

  “Will reading?” This was happening way too fast. “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

  “Ivy Delacroix. I used to work for Elinor. Home health aide, light housekeeping, and so on. I’ve been looking after the estate until you could be located.” Ivy led the way back beyond a massive curving staircase and into a large kitchen.

  “I’m sorry. My father is back in Chicago. Don’t we need him for the will reading?” The kitchen was magnificent. Parts were antique while the appliances were top-of-the-line stainless steel. Plus lots of crucifixes and Mary statues. This house was worth a fortune. Dad would have to decide what to do with it.

  “The lawyer has all the terms of the will. Let him worry about it. Sit down, relax, and I’ll get you some tea. There’s a picture of Elinor and her ashes are in an urn in the main parlor.”

  I needed more caffeine to get through this change of plans. Having just met Gran, I wasn’t ready to pay respects to her remains yet. “Do you have any coffee?”

  Sitting at a large wooden table, I took a moment to get my bearings. My parents had never liked my gift but what was the real story with this Grandmother? Ivy set a mug of steaming coffee in front of me.

  “Thank you.” I smiled.

  As I sipped the coffee, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. There was a rocking chair in the corner and a gray figure of a young woman dressed in a maid’s uniform slowing rocking in it.

  Another ghost. I could feel a lot of them throughout the house but this is the first one I’d seen inside. Over the years, I’d learned to suppress the supernatural and deal with live people first. The more I opened, the more I felt this house needed a keeper.

  “Hi,” I said.

  The maid kept her eyes down but moved to put a bowl of sugar and spoon on the table.

  “Thanks. I’m Deanna.” I did my best to treat ghosts like people but you never knew a nice one from a troublemaker right away. They all wanted attention and respect. Ghosts who were stuck or chose to stay here—much easier for me to see because they were still here. I could always tell them from the spirits who had crossed over to the Other Side and came back to visit. They were more faded and with a pure light that seemed to come from inside them.

  “You can see her?” Ivy asked.

  “Of course. Does she talk?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have those powers. I’m just sensitive enough to keep this place balanced. Miss Elinor called me grounded. That ghost is called Missy and she likes that rocking chair. She thinks she’s still a maid here which means there’s no need to clean.”

  I felt my feet twitch. There were lots more ghosts here. Lots of energy and not all good. A larger concentration of evil than I’d ever felt. “How many ghosts are here?”

  “Enough. The dangerous ghosts Miss Elinor kept in the attic. Don’t go up there. We don’t want to have to put them back inside without Miss Elinor’s help.”

  “What’s in the basement?” My feet tingled more.

  “No basements at this sea level. You might be feeling the main floor storeroom under the stairs. The haunted objects are in there. Jumpy creatures.” Ivy opened her purse on the counter and pulled out a compact.

  Haunted objects? I shook it off. “So the house is loaded with this stuff? What did Gran do with a houseful of ghosts and objects?”

  “Tried to get them to go where they belong. Get to the Other Side and stop haunting the living. Not all want to go.” Ivy smiled. “So you’re the Yankee granddaughter from Chicago with all the sick powers?”

  “Trade ya,” I offered.

  “Right. You think being a drag queen is easy? I’ve been working on my act for years. No big break yet. I hope you don’t mind, I was rehearsing here. I don’t always dress with style.”

  “It’s not my house. I don’t mind. And I don’t think it’s easy. Of course I can’t sing to save my life. I just can’t imagine anything worse than seeing a little girl’s death as I’m riding in a cab on the way from the airport. There’s not enough info to stop it either. Sometimes I just want an off switch for the powers. It’d be so nice to blend in and be average.”

  Ivy chuckled. “You won’t get that here. Everyone knew about Miss Elinor. The Oscar family. Lots of people came to her for help. It was her life. Now that you’re here, they’ll be coming for you.”

  “Great. That’ll help me land that teaching job. I work to get two PhDs and I’ll never get to use them except on the formerly living. Normal isn’t too much to ask for, is it?” I scrubbed my hands over my face.

  “Who wants that?”

  “You can take off the drag and just be a guy who blends in whenever you want. I’d like to have that option.”

  “I can see that. But you’re not wearing a sign. On the plus side, around here being psychic and talking to the dead isn’t going to shock anyone. Lots of people make a living off it. Fooling tourists and gazing into a crystal ball. Oscars have a reputation for extreme accuracy though. People will believe you.” She took a deep breath. “Let me show you to the master bedroom and we can get you unpacked.”

  “Thanks.” I wished I could focus on the house or Gran. But the image of Little Cel wouldn’t go away. Whoever was after her wasn’t going to give up. Her death felt inevitable.

  Helplessness was the worst part. It wouldn’t last though. The first premonition came to me for a reason. I’d get something more eventually and be on the heels of a killer. It was a habit. My visions weren’t normally murder. The urge to head back to the airport, fly home and let my father handle the estate teased me but I ha
d to get involved. I’d gotten into trouble for it plenty in my life. Butting in and going off my track because of a vision. I couldn’t help that I had visions and with something like this, how could I walk away?

  Hopefully the key info came in time for Little Cel.

  Chapter Two

  Ivy went back downstairs to wait for the guests but I had the need to keep busy. I always got antsy when I had an unsettling vision. A mini-tour around the second floor was a good distraction. The door at the opposite end of the long hallway called to me with strong energy.

  I tried the door and it was locked. Letting go, I heard a click. Who was playing games? I played along and tried the door again. This time it opened. Hell, my curiosity hadn’t killed me—yet.

  It was a library. The most amazing one I’d ever seen. Built-in cherry wood shelves, packed with books, lined the walls from floor to ceiling. There was even a spiral staircase leading down. A library that spanned two floors? In a private home? There were definite positives to this house.

  “Awesome.” I closed the door behind me and went further.

  There were stuffed cozy-looking velvet chairs and larger leather ones. Reading lamps and carved desks were scattered near the chairs and elegant candleholders sat in corners. The candles were all white and clearly not just for show. Natural light seemed to be Gran’s preference.

  The traditional long library ladders towered along the walls on every side. Ancient leather covers looked down on me and the smell of dust was inescapable. A huge brick fireplace took up a large part of the far wall. I could envision a roaring fire making this room even better. It was the most welcoming room in the house.

  Except I wasn’t alone.

  I wasn’t disturbed except for the fact that I couldn’t see who was with me. “Who’s there?” My voice echoed and I felt stupid for half a second. Someone was hiding.

  I heard a rattle and looked up. None of the windows were open so it wasn’t the wind. One of the ladders shook again and I took three hasty steps back, just in case whoever it was didn’t want me here and planned to dump a ladder on me to prove it.

  “I’m Deanna Oscar. Are you one of the friendly residents?”