by Jane Tesh
Why did everyone in the world feel the need to procreate? Ted looked at me with unmistakable hope. It was way too soon in this relationship to disappoint him, but what could I say that wouldn’t sound too harsh?
I was saved by the arrival of our strawberry shortcakes.
We spent the rest of our lunch date enjoying the food and talking about Celosia. I asked Ted about Val Eberlin, but he hadn’t known him very well.
“He’d come to town on occasion to buy groceries or go to the post office. That’s where I’d see him. I had no idea he was related to the Fairweathers.”
“How did he make a living?”
“I don’t know. I always thought he was retired.”
Kelly stopped at our table. She held a pitcher of iced tea. “Refills?”
“No, thanks,” I said.
Ted pulled out his billfold. “We’re ready for the check.”
Kelly set the pitcher down and tore off a page from her pad. She handed the paper to Ted. “Ya’ll come back.”
Ted put five dollars on the table. “Madeline, this has been a pleasure. I hope you’ll let me treat you again.”
“My treat next time,” I said.
“If there’s anything I can do to help with your case, let me know.”
“Do you plan to stand outside the theater Saturday night, daring people to cross the picket line?”
He grinned. “We won’t take things that far.”
We drove back to Celosia. Ted walked me to my car and opened the door. “There’s just one condition to our next date, Madeline.”
“What’s that?”
“You have to wear the same dress and shoes.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Till next time, then.”
I liked Ted Stacy. He wasn’t pushy. He didn’t talk too much or sit like a log without attempting any conversation. He’d left a big tip. Bill had always stiffed the waitresses.
I didn’t want to think about Bill. I found myself wanting to think about Ted.
***
When I got back to the Eberlin house, I saw a dirty white van parked under a tree. The van’s back doors were open, revealing rows of paint cans, stacks of wood, coils of extension cord, and various power tools. Inside, I found Jerry and a large, square-shaped woman painting the living room. The woman’s short blonde ponytail stuck out the back of a dirty white baseball cap. White, paint-splattered overalls, a grubby tee shirt, and ancient sneakers completed her ensemble. Her small features gathered in the middle of a face tanned so dark, her blue eyes gleamed.
“You ’bout the clumsiest little guy I ever seen,” she said as Jerry stepped in the paint tray. From the looks of his sneakers, this wasn’t the first time. “Why don’t you get out of here and let me work?”
“I can do it,” he said.
“No, you can’t. Go in the kitchen.”
“Mac, tell Nell I know how to paint a wall.”
The woman scowled at me.
“Nell,” I said, “I’ll get him out of your way.”
She gave an amused snort. “Thank you.”
“Come on, Jerry.”
We went into the kitchen. He sat down at the table to sulk. “Banished. In my own home.”
“She can finish a lot quicker without you. Who is she?”
“I didn’t realize I was hiring a Viking. I thought, oh, a woman. That’ll be nice. This is Celosia. She’ll be gorgeous. Nell’s father must have been a tank.”
“Nell who?”
“Nell Brenner.”
“Brenner as in chief of police Brenner?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Stay here.”
I returned to the living room to introduce myself.
“I’m Madeline Maclin.”
She gave me a brief nod. “Nell Brenner. Been wanting to get my hands on this house for a long time. Looks like I’m not too late.” She took a screwdriver from her overall pocket and pried open another can of paint. “You’re the detective, right?”
“Yes. I’m investigating the goings on at the local pageant. Are you any relation to the chief?”
“That’s my dad.”
Her father? She looked to be about sixty.
She set the lid onto a piece of newspaper on the floor. “He says it’s just some teenagers cutting up.”
“I’m also trying to find out who’s playing ghost with Hayden Amry.”
She shook her head. “That boy’s had a hard time.”
“How do you mean?”
She took a stick and stirred the paint. “First of all, the daddy runs off, leaves the mother to raise Hayden all on her own. Then he finally gets to being a success and had to leave his job in Parkland. Worked for some big company.”
“Was he fired?”
“Nah. Had a breakdown. They were real nice about it. Hayden’s not the salesman type, that’s all. Too sensitive.”
“A serious breakdown?” This would explain seeing ghosts and phantom dinosaurs.
“Stayed about a week in some hospital, resting mostly. Shana thought Autumn Fields would be a good place for peace and quiet, and now the boy’s seeing things all over it.”
“What about Shana? Do you know if she has any enemies?”
“A woman that pretty? You probably know how that is.”
“Well, thanks, but I’m not in her league.”
“Nobody is. But I don’t know of an enemy, not here in town.” She poured the paint into a tray. “So what’s the story with you and Mr. Fix-It?”
“We’re just friends.”
She paused to give me a long, considering look. “Uh-huh.”
“Known each other since college.”
“Have you now?”
I needed to change the subject. “What can you tell me about Ted Stacy?”
“He’s all right. Plays fair.”
“Benjy Goins?”
“Class clown. Never got over it.”
“Kimberly Dawn Williams?”
“Never seen so much hair on a human head.” She pushed a paint roller into the tray. “Loved being Miss Celosia. Won’t let anybody forget it, neither. Same little squirt she always was. We called her Kimmy D in school just to get her tail in a crack.”
It was hard to imagine Nell Brenner and Kimberly Dawn Williams being in school together. “Juliet Lovelace?”
Nell smoothed the roller over the wall. “Now there’s a wild one. Got one of the coaches fired. ’Course, he couldn’t keep his hands where they belonged.”
“Donna Sanchez and Randi Peterson said some disparaging things about her.”
“Jealous bunch of little hellcats. That Sanchez was caught at a club in Far Corners. Story goes she was dancing on tables naked. And the other one’s just as bad. Lost her driver’s license almost before she got it.”
Nell Brenner was turning out to be the best source I’d ever used. She kept painting, her smooth, even strokes sliding fresh blue paint over the dingy gray walls.
“What about Gregory Prill?”
She gave a snort. “Fussy old queen. Harmless, though.”
“Would he have any reason to play tricks on the Amrys?”
“Lord, no. They’re good friends.” She dipped the roller back into the tray. She called into the kitchen, “Hey, shorty. Come see if this suits you.” She winked at me. “I’m just picking at him.”
“He can take it.”
Jerry entered, trying to look dignified. “Am I allowed back in my own living room?”
“Just in the doorway,” Nell said. “How’s it look?”
“Looks great.”
“Well, don’t mess with it. It’ll be dry in a couple of hours. I’ll be back tomorrow to see about the plumbing.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Jerry waved good-bye as Nell’s van lumbered down the drive.
I joined him on the porch. “So, aren’t you going to ask me what I had for lunch?”
“Oh, yeah. How did that go?”
“We had a great time. We h
ave a lot in common.”
“Skip that part. What did you have to eat?”
I sat down in one of the rocking chairs and pulled off my high heels. “Everything. Full barn buffet at the Atlas Café. Strawberry shortcake for dessert.”
“Well, while you were stuffing yourself, I had an important phone call.”
“From the Acme Toy Company. They want their Magic Eight Ball back.”
Jerry’s grin was full of mischief. “No, from Geoff and Sean’s Aunt Flossie Mae.”
“Oh, brother.”
He could hardly contain himself. “She’s coming here at 8:00 for a séance. She’s bringing two friends with her.”
“Jerry.”
“I’ve been in town only a few days, and the word is out. The Snyder boys will pop.”
I finally got his attention. “The only thing they’ll pop is your nose.”
“Oh, they won’t be a problem. Aunt Flossie Mae sounded like a gal who gets her way. Come take a look at the séance room.”
I followed him to the front parlor. He had pulled one of the tables to the center of the room and placed chairs around it. “When you turn off the lights, the room looks really spooky. The musty smell is good, too. I told Nell to leave this room as is.”
“Couldn’t you forget the séance stuff? It’s so stupid.”
“It brings in good money. Once Flossie Mae and her friends get the deluxe reading, I won’t be able to keep up with the demand.” He put his hands on the back of one chair. “This is my chair here, facing the window. I don’t have time to set up the flying trumpets, but this will be a great place to see the reflection of the ectoplasm.”
I sighed and left the room. There was no talking to him when he gets like this.
He came after me. “What? You don’t like ectoplasm? I’ll admit it’s a little messy, but it’s very effective.”
“I need to change clothes.”
“Can I borrow your car? I need to buy a few things before they get here.”
“Sure. The keys are in it.”
Jerry had been gone about ten minutes when I heard another car drive up. I looked out and saw something I didn’t want to see: Olivia Decker. She got out of her car, looking trim and tiny in black jeans and a black tee shirt. Her cell phone was clipped to her belt. She came in and looked around the living room.
“Don’t tell me Jerry did all this.”
“He’s paying someone to do it.”
“With what? Where does he get the money?”
“I don’t know.”
“You could find out.” She inspected the room. “This is what he does all day while you’re out detecting?”
“Actually, we stay home and screw like weasels.”
Her smile was patronizingly sweet. “Of course you do. Where is Jerry, by the way?”
“He had some errands to run in town. Why are you here, Olivia?”
“Jerry won’t come to Parkland.”
That wasn’t much of an answer. “Haven’t you given up yet?”
She flicked some imaginary dust from one of the chairs and sat down. “Here’s the thing, Madeline. The more I thought about Jerry, the more I missed him. I know you think all I care about is his money, but I make plenty of money, myself. I don’t really need any more. Of course, it would be nice, but it’s not necessary. What I really want is to see if this relationship can work.”
The scary part about this speech was that I almost believed her.
She readjusted one of her earrings. Her eyes narrowed. “And why are you still here?”
“I have a case. The local pageant director’s having some trouble.”
“Oh, a pageant. Must bring back memories.”
“Not really.”
“Why did you quit, anyway? Weren’t you doing pretty well?”
“Ran out of sequins.”
“I was always too short.”
This surprised me. Olivia rarely revealed anything about herself. “That’s not an issue these days.”
“You had a shot at Miss North Carolina, didn’t you?”
“I did Miss Parkland for the money.”
She gave me a look. “And you think I’m desperate for money?” Her cell phone rang. “Excuse me.” She unclipped it to answer. “Hello? Just a second.” She went out to the porch. “Okay, that’s better. What’s up?”
I eavesdropped half-heartedly as Olivia tore into somebody named Barry for not having the proper paperwork done on a case. Ordinarily, I’d be tickled by her problems, but the hard cold fact she was here and scheming to get Jerry back depressed me more than I would’ve believed.
I was further depressed by the greeting Jerry gave her when he returned from town. He bounded up the porch steps, tossed his packages on the nearest chair, and swung her around.
“I’m so glad you’re here! What do you think of the living room?”
Olivia caught her breath. “Well, it’s a good start. Who’s doing the work?”
“I found a really good handyman. Actually, she’s a handywoman. She’s going to fix the plumbing and everything.”
“You should’ve hired Elite Contractors and Service. They’re the best.”
“They’re also the most expensive.”
“Is this handywoman doing it for nothing?”
“No.”
“What are you paying her with, beads?”
He took her hand. “Come see what I’m planning for the kitchen.”
She sighed and gave me a look as if to say, this is nonsense. Any other time, I would’ve agreed, but now I wanted to be on Jerry’s side.
She looked around the kitchen and shook her head. “Jerry, having plans is all well and good if the plans actually amount to something. What are you going to do with this house?”
“What do you mean? It’s perfect for séances.”
“Be serious.”
“I am. I can have séances here, palm readings, Tarot card readings, Ouija board, whatever. Let me show you my séance room.”
“Jerry, honestly.”
He pulled her back to the front parlor. “See? It’s perfect.”
“Well, it’s dark. You need to have this room painted, too. Maybe a nice bright yellow.”
He made a face. “The entire Fairweather Mansion is yellow.”
“All right, then, a nice beige.”
“Nope. Did you see all the rooms upstairs? Come on.”
Olivia protested as he tugged her up the stairs. “Jerry, you have to think this through. Is this what you want to do the rest of your life?”
He gave her the complete tour, with her complaining every step of the way. I sat on the porch and wondered about what I wanted to do the rest of my life. Wasn’t it the height of absurdity to be in love with someone who hadn’t a clue? Someone who had the attention span of puppy and whose idea of a good time was to pretend to talk to the dead?
As they came back downstairs, Olivia’s phone beeped and she answered it.
“What? No, no, that’s not what I meant, at all. Of all the stupid—” She put the phone down. “Jerry, I’ve got to go take care of this.”
He looked disappointed. “You’ll miss the séance.”
“I’ve seen you do that. Once is enough.” She spoke into the phone. “Don’t do anything until I get there.” She hung up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “See you later.”
***
At twilight, three older women arrived in a huge Buick sedan and boldly came up the porch steps.
“Good evening,” one said. “Is this where we can communicate with our loved ones from beyond the grave?”
Something about the set of this woman’s jaw told me she was Flossie Mae Snyder, Geoff and Sean’s aunt.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jerry said. For the occasion, he’d put on his dark brown suit and a tie with flaming skulls outlined in gold thread. “Please come in.”
The other women introduced themselves as Anna Lee Mosley and Winnifred Parks. Jerry escorted them to the front parlor and held their chair
s as they sat down around the table. I watched from the doorway.
I’ve seen Jerry do this dozens of times, and it always amazes me how people believe something so goofy. Everyone holds hands. Jerry tells the people to concentrate on whatever questions they have for someone on the Other Side. Then he closes his eyes, sits really still, and starts talking in a faraway voice. The stuff he says is so general, you could easily apply it to your own life. Your mother is well and happy. She misses you. She’s watching over you. Nothing specific.
This evening, things went a little differently.
Jerry placed a large candle in the center of the table. He lit the candle and sat down. He asked the women to hold hands. “Now I want each of you to think of a specific question you’d like to ask your loved one. I’ll get in touch with my guide in the spirit realm and ask him to relay your questions and concerns. Don’t be alarmed if I sound different. The guide will speak through me.”
And why can’t people see through you? That’s the question.
Jerry closed his eyes. “Everyone concentrate. You may hear strange noises or see some unexplainable phenomena. Just remain calm and don’t break the circle.”
By this he meant, don’t move your hands under the table where I’m pulling tricks with my toes.
There was a thump from somewhere underneath, but it sounded as if it were underneath the house, not the table. Jerry opened his eyes, clearly surprised by the noise. Then he closed his eyes again.
“I call to the spirit realm. I request your guidance. Come to me. Show me the way.” He opened his eyes, giving them a glazed expression. When he spoke, his voice was distant and rough. “I am here.”
Ooo, the great and powerful Wizard of Oz.
The women looked at each other, shivering with delight.
“Who has a request of me?”
Mrs. Mosley said, “I wish to speak to my grandmother, Eunice Tubbs.”
Jerry took a moment to make some rattling sounds in his throat. “Eunice is well and happy and watching over you, Anna Lee.”
She gave a little gasp. “Ask her if Grandpa Willie is all right.”
“William is also well and happy. He spends many days doing his favorite things.”
He can usually get people to tell him what he needs to know. Mrs. Mosley was agog. “Fishing? There’s fishing in the afterlife?”
