by CC Dragon
“He’s got his hands full with the family. Besides, I don’t need any more complications. If I can give the cops enough to get the killer, I can get back to figuring out what to do with my life. Did you bring a car? I just walked.”
Ivy led the way to a bright pink Camaro convertible. I guess I didn’t do a very good job of hiding my surprise.
“I had the paint custom-mixed. Get in.” Ivy was clearly proud of her wheels.
I wondered if the sample color was Pepto Bismol as I climbed in.
“So what do you want to do with your life?” Ivy reapplied her lipstick before starting the car. “I mean, are you staying or what?”
“What the hell am I going to do here? Live in a huge haunted house? Run around trying to solve ghosts’ problems and use my psychotic abilities to help the cops?” I blew out frustration and snapped on my seat belt.
“You’re psychic not psychotic. Don’t be so negative. Why the hell can’t you help?”
Ivy merged into traffic. “It was a joke. I just feel psychotic. Clearly I’m not funny.”
“Can’t be everything. Are we going to the after-funeral dinner thing now?”
“No,” I decided. My mood wasn’t good at all.
“Then let’s drive-through. I skipped lunch and am starving.” Ivy pulled into the first thing she liked and I told her just to get me the same. It was all burgers and fries anyway, but I got a strawberry shake. She parked the car where we had a view of the lake and ate.
“Why aren’t we going home?” I asked.
“Why do you want to leave Louisiana?” She ignored my question.
I sipped the shake and tried to figure out how to explain it. “This isn’t me. I don’t track criminals.”
“You said you got a degree in forensic psychology. Isn’t that criminals?”
“Yes, but this isn’t like that. I studied the criminal mind. I interviewed them and talked to them when they were behind bars. Or I profiled them from a distance. I don’t chase them down or find them before they strike again. I’m not a psychic detective. Besides I’m better at teaching. I have four universities ready to pay me to move to them and teach there. I’m good at teaching.” I added ketchup to my burger. And took a bite. “Holy shit, what is this?”
At least I’d thought it was ketchup. I dug out the wrapper. “Hot sauce?”
“You are a Yankee. Hot sauce goes on everything here.” Ivy rolled her eyes.
I sipped my shake to dull the shock and scrapped off some of the sauce with a napkin. Spicy I could take, but I’d doused my burger like it was good old Heinz 57. I ate a fry to cleanse my tongue and tried again. I wasn’t going to be the Yankee wimp.
“Not bad,” I said. “I just can’t use too much.”
“Your tolerance would build if you stayed.” Ivy didn’t look at me but smiled.
“If I don’t take one of these jobs, I’m stuck until at least next year. I can’t not work for a whole year.” My brain couldn’t handle that.
“Why not?” she asked. “Elinor left you a bundle.”
That was true. I kept forgetting about that. It hadn’t cleared probate or whatever, so it didn’t seem real. Only the house seemed real. The amount of cash was outrageous to me. I could live the rest of my life on it if I didn’t go crazy. “But I don’t have my hands on it yet. I’ve got student loan payments to make, and I’ll have to buy a car no matter where I live. I’ve got very little in the bank, so I can’t just wander around finding myself or Casper for a year.”
“The money won’t take that long to come through. Besides, you look the type to have good credit. Plus you fit in here.” Ivy was undeterred.
Technically my credit was clean. Except for the student loans, I was largely debt-free. My father was so anti-debt he hated the idea of me taking those loans, but he wouldn’t pay for grad school and loans were my only options. Masters and PhDs weren’t cheap.
“So I should just tag along with the cops and tell them where to look? Ivy, it doesn’t work that way. Psychics aren’t exactly welcomed in law enforcement. Matt’s unique because he knew Gran. Even he blows hot and cold.” I didn’t get the feeling that all of the NOPD would be accepting of me along for the ride.
“If you prove yourself, they’ll believe and who knows what could happen. You could start your own business.”
“I don’t do tarot cards or palm readings.” That wasn’t something I wanted. “I don’t need props and I never understood them anyway. I’ve never owned a crystal ball.”
“Honey, you don’t need it. You’re right about this stuff. People would pay big money to know their future.”
“I don’t think I could do that. I didn’t train to be psychic. I couldn’t take money for that. Besides, it’d be just like having sessions with patients. I was never great at that. You usually get people who don’t need real help but need to vent, complain and want you to tell them how to fix their lives. They already know what they need but don’t want to do the work.”
“Okay, no boring stuff. Teaching doesn’t sound all that thrilling either.”
“I never said it was thrilling. But it wasn’t frustrating like catching a killer. Students were there to learn, I was good at it and they liked me. I taught undergrads while I was in grad school and made enough money to pay bills, drive an old car and split a tiny apartment with a friend. I had a plan for after I got my degrees. Professor on the road to tenure.”
“It’s boring. You still want to be doing that when you’re fifty?” Ivy collected the garbage from our lunch and tossed it in what passed for the backseat of her Camaro.
“As opposed to what? Playing Scooby-Doo and chasing pirate ghosts in the Mystery Machine?”
“You could be on one of those unsolved mystery shows on TV. You could take private clients too. Don’t know how someone died, call Dr. Oscar. So serious issues or crimes, not fortune telling.” Ivy started up the car and swung back out into traffic.
This could be so bad. “I’m not doing cheesy commercials.”
“But you’d help anyone who asked you to. You’re a bleeding heart. That’s why you came to the funeral, and why you can’t say no to the cops when they ask you for help.”
“Helping people is my area.” I couldn’t argue that.
“And there are plenty of people in New Orleans that need help and they’ll believe you. Your grandmother built that trust. Why waste it? We could use a badass psychic detective around here. Chicago might be a bit more closed-minded but here you blend right in.” She hit the brakes for a red light.
“You insult Chicago again and I’ll lock you in the attic with the evil ghosts and leave for good.”
“I ain’t afraid of those ghosts. I’m getting onstage tonight. There’s nothing scarier than drag queen reviews.” The light turned green and she floored it.
I smiled. She drove.
We both knew she was lying her ass off. She’d maintained the balance inside the house after Gran died. Once I had an active case and things were stirred up, she was in over her head. Neither of us could afford to be over confident. Things might become easier with experience but I’d also attract bigger, badder, and more of whatever was out there.
I was afraid to stay. It was that simple...
Chapter Nineteen
I wore the little red dress with the strappy shoes for the drag show. Red lipstick and strong smoky eyes would make sure that I didn’t blend into the background. My nails were back to their normal French-manicured, comfortable-length and very squared shape.
Since my new car hadn’t shown up yet, I arrived at the Long and Big Easy in the Jeep. I’d never figured out how to put the top on so my hair now looked even more windblown. It didn’t matter because after my appointment at the Ladylike Salon, I knew I’d never have the biggest hair in the club tonight.
Tonight there were two goals, support Ivy’s career and let Greg know I knew the truth. I didn’t date liars, no matter how attractive they were.
The outside of the club looked in
nocent. Not even a lighted sign. Inside, the light was better and the noise was electric. A huge stage was the focus with two bars lining the sides along the length of the club. Shirtless men in tight jeans or leather pants that could’ve been plucked from any issue of Playgirl manned the see-through bars. Every piece of the bar was transparent so you could get a full view of the men working. Nice touch.
A dance floor had a transparent plastic finish and it looked like there were lights underneath. It was currently covered with tables and chairs. No wonder this club was hot.
I found my new nail tech, Violet, and a few other familiar faces from the salon. They’d taken over a large table down front. “I guess this is the most popular drag club in New Orleans,” I said.
“Obviously, we’re here. It’s a good thing you’re here. Ivy is so nervous. She’ll be really glad to see you, Deanna. Ivy was convinced you’d get pulled away by the cops or a ghost or something.” Violet poured me a pink drink they’d ordered pitchers of.
“Thanks. I’m sure she’ll be great.” I sat down and sipped at the frozen strawberry margarita. Silently, I warned Warren away from here. There was no way I’d let him ruin my friend’s début.
“Looks like it’s going to be packed.” Violet scanned the crowd. “Some cute boys here tonight.”
“Don’t think any of them would be interested in me.” It was actually a relief. Men were more confusing than anything but none here would confuse me.
“Here comes a straight one.” Violet nodded to get me look behind me.
I didn’t have to look. It was Greg, I knew it.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hello,” I replied flatly.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“Lovely.” I smiled indifferently.
A few minutes of tense silence later, he leaned over and whispered, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Go ahead.” I sipped more of my drink.
“In private,” he added.
I didn’t deal with liars well. In college, I’d caught my boyfriend cheating. I’d yelled at him and the girl he was sleeping with, right in the middle of one of our classes. I wanted to vent my anger at Greg right there, but I decided not to make a scene.
I had matured since then. Getting up from the table, I followed Greg outside.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
“Not the best opening line I’ve ever heard.”
“I know things are weird. I say we try it again. A real date this time. We’ll take it slow.” He folded his arms and waited.
I smiled slightly. “You’re not even going to tell me now?” I gave him one last chance to come clean. I thought it was the mature approach. Why did men stuff always make me feel like a teenager?
“What?” Greg couldn’t hide his nervousness.
“You’re really not going to tell me? I’m ashamed of you, Father Greg. Priests aren’t supposed to lie,” I scolded. His last chance just expired.
“I’m going to kill Ivy.” He refused to look me in the eye.
“It wasn’t Ivy. It doesn’t matter who told me, because you’re the one who should’ve—but you didn’t. You’re a liar and I don’t get involved with liars. Or priests.” I kept calm. Not the enraged college girl I could’ve regressed to.
“Ex-priest,” he corrected.
“You didn’t tell me about it. A liar is a liar. The Catholic schoolgirl in me finds the priest thing pretty creepy.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you had enough to deal with.” He didn’t have a better excuse.
“That’s a nice excuse for a friend. However the second we went beyond that, you should’ve come clean. You’d better go to confession and do your penance.” I was only half joking but walked back into the club alone.
I felt a lot better. I hadn’t gone off, like I might have in prior years. Still, I’d made my position clear without losing my temper. Clearly, I was more pissed than hurt. With so much going on, I’d rarely had time to think about myself. It was easier that way. My radar with men wasn’t very good.
I sat back at the table and finished off my drink. “Any chance your friend will change sides?” Violet asked. “He’s my type and I don’t have any hang-ups about sleeping with an ex-priest. Too bad he’s close with Ivy.”
I lifted a shoulder. “I’m just his friend now. He’s all yours, if you can turn him.” I winked at Violet as Greg joined us at the table.
I ignored him as the lights lowered and the curtain went up.
Hopefully, Ivy would bring the house down.
* * * * *
Everyone in the crowd was blown away. Not only could Ivy sing, she could put an audience in the palm of her hand. A few men almost jumped up on stage, she looked so good. Her dress was nothing like what I expected.
She’d gone with something that looked like a disco ball, and from the stage she sparkled. All silver with a halter-top, it was perfect on her. It had what looked like little squares of mirrors sewn into it. No idea how she moved or breathed. Ivy’s shoes were the same fabric over large platforms.
As Ivy took a final bow before the cheering crowd, I noticed an underage audience member. Little Cel was sitting on the stage watching Ivy in wonder. I focused my attention on Little Cel until she looked over. Motioning for her to come, I could feel Greg looking at me.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Little Cel is here.” I wasn’t in the mood for his nosiness.
I looked back and Little Cel was standing next to me. “That was fun. Your friend is a great singer. I love music!”
“Yes, she is. What are you doing here?”
“Are you talking to a real ghost? Here?” Violet squealed. “I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” I replied.
“Ivy says your house is just crawling with them.” Violet studied the space where Little Cel stood, but clearly couldn’t see the ghost.
“Maybe you should have your chat with Little Cel in the ladies’ room? People are going to start staring,” Greg said.
“You think anyone will notice me? Here?” I rolled my eyes, but got up. More to get away from Greg than to avoid the stares. “So sorry to bother you, your holiness. Come on, Little Cel.”
I left Greg to the company of the queens. Hopefully they’d have him squirming by the time I got back. I still had a little passive-aggressive streak.
Once we were safely contained in the ladies’ room, part of me wished I’d stayed out there. But that wasn’t the point. I needed to talk to Little Cel and at least this room was quiet.
“Any news?” I asked.
Tina Price appeared before Little Cel said a word. “Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi. How are you doing?” The rush of relief that both girls were now communicating, and hopefully at peace, ran through me.
“Okay. You need to stop Darren and Warren.” Tina stuck close to Little Cel.
“I know. Can you help?” I needed all the help I could get. Nothing concrete had developed.
“You have what you need now. We can’t help you anymore.” Little Cel shrugged.
“Anymore? I don’t recall any actual help from you two before. Now tell me what I need to know.” My hands were on my hips, for a split second I felt like my mother. A chill ran through me.
I relaxed my arms, taking a deep breath. These weren’t real children anymore, I reminded myself. They just looked that way.
“We can’t. You have everything you need now. Why’s that Greg guy so angry anyway?” Tina asked.
“He’s sexually frustrated.” Little Cel smiled at me.
“Yuck. If you’re going to talk like that, please appear as, at least, an eighteen-year-old.” I waved off that topic. “What do you mean, I have everything I need? You mean to find the last girl?”
Tina and Little Cel nodded in unison.
“You just need to clear your mind. You’re really bad at that.” Little Cel smiled.
“Thanks a lot.” I walked out of the ladies
’ room. I had very little patience left but most of my frustration was targeted at myself.
Not two steps into the main room, I was attacked by a sweaty and smiling Ivy, hugging me like she was ready to collapse. “That was unbelievable!”
“You were great!” I said when she finally let me up for air.
“Where did you go? They said you saw ghosts in the club? Everything okay?” Ivy looked concerned over my shoulder. Ever since the haunted objects were let loose, she’d been a bit on edge.
“Yeah, it was only Little Cel. Not Warren. Nothing to worry about. The crowd loved you.” I had no interest in talking about a killer to Ivy on her big night. Darren and Warren weren’t after anyone tonight.
“What happened with you and Greg?” she asked. “He’s totally acting weird.”
“Nothing and it won’t happen. I found out he used to be a priest from Mary Lou today.”
“The dumbass didn’t tell you? That’s my cousin. Men.” She shook her mass of curls so stiff with hairspray nothing moved.
I exhaled slowly. “I can’t deal with that now. Can you believe he wanted me to take the ghosts into the ladies’ room? He’s the one who talked about coming out of the closet as a psychic. Not denying myself. Now I shouldn’t be too public in a drag club.”
“Ha. He’s one to talk. It took him forever to leave the priesthood. He only went to the seminary because his mother wanted him to be a priest. While he’s nice enough to come to these things for me, if I were to start kissing any man in this place, it’d freak him out. Greg means well, but he’s not there yet.”
“There?” I frowned at her.
“Reality. Or what he wants his reality to be. I don’t know what it is. He’s got to find it himself. It’s not your problem, honey.” Ivy patted my arm.
“You could’ve told me he was a priest.” I nudged her boa-clad elbow.
“If he were the one for you, it wouldn’t matter.” Ivy lifted a matter-of-fact shoulder at me.
She was right. I had bigger problems than men anyway. According to the girls, I had what I needed. No idea what that meant, but I had to try.
