Hopeful Leigh (Literal Leigh Romance Diaries Book 3)

by Melanie James

  I needed a simple title. I can’t begin any story without a working title. The title I came up with was a little playful name based on the word that Lindsey had said—cowpoke. My title became Cowpoked.

  After working on Bangin’ the Billion-were, Regurgitant, Steel Stetsons and Cowpoked, my head was spinning and I needed a break. I wandered off to forage for food in the kitchen, and then I settled in to catch up on some shows I had recorded to my DVR.

  One would think, that with all of the hours of work that I had been putting into my writing, I would have made backup files of my work. Certainly, one would think, that I wouldn’t leave multiple word processing files open on my laptop. One would think. I’ve had to call the IT support people at my school pretty often. They always come back with the same question. “When is the last time you saved your file to the back-up?” Followed by, “Now what did you do?” Again one would think, I would learn.

  As it happens so often, I did not save anything, or close any files. Despite the warnings and lectures, I never do. I usually have dozens of little icons spread across the task bar at the bottom of the screen. Besides the word processing files, I keep everything opened—social media sites, funny cat videos, a few games, email, instant messaging, and web pages I mean to go back and read later. When I returned to my desk, I noticed that Luna’s little bed was empty and my computer screen was abnormally blank. My body froze in place. All my work, all those hours—gone. At least, that’s what I feared. I walked up to my laptop and took a breath. “Okay, okay, probably, some stupid update that it just had to run. I’m sure that it saved everything before it shut down. I’m pretty sure they have safeguards designed in these things now.” I was talking out loud to myself—trying to convince myself, actually. I prayed that in some obscure corner of the world of software designers, someone took the users like me into consideration—us non-backing up, game playing, video downloading, computer busting luddites. I had so many problems with computers that I could be a crash test dummy for Windows.

  I gingerly touched my keyboard, as if it were a mousetrap ready to snap the tip of my finger off. “Please, light up. I promise to stop disregarding all of those little notifications.” Nothing. I checked the power cord. It was still there. I tried to remember what you should do, or shouldn’t do, to revive a crashed computer. It’s not like there is a CPR course for something like this. One more thing to do, push the power button and see if it worked, or if it was completely infested with viruses. I made a vow that if the thing started up okay, I would finally renew my lapsed anti-virus software subscription. I knew I was lying to my laptop with that promise.

  “Here goes nothing.” I pushed the little button and tried to remember if I was supposed to just touch it once, or hold it down for ten seconds. I’ve never understood that. I took a gamble and held it down. Miraculously, the screen lit up and my system looked just fine. Another bullet dodged. Luna pounced on the desk and resumed her cat yoga routine. You know how cats are. They contort themselves into impossible positions, and then hold them before switching to some other bizarre pose. Of course, they are just showing off their flexibility. “You didn’t have anything to do with this? Did you?”

  “Meow. Meow.”

  “Liar. That pillow is for you to sleep on, it’s not a yoga mat. Practice your King Pigeon yoga pose on the floor, and stay away from the damn computer.”

  “Meow.”

  “Thank you.”

  Our conversation was interrupted by an unexpected phone call that I was overjoyed to receive. It was Hunter.

  “Hi Leigh!”

  “Hey Hunter! It is so good to hear your voice. So do you have an update of when you’ll be done with training?”

  “Yes. Do you want to know the best news?”

  “Of course.” I immediately thought of all sorts of ideas of what the best news could entail. Primarily, that he found out he would be working somewhere near me.

  “I just found out that I’m finishing ahead of schedule, a week from today. And I’ll have some time off before I start working. So, if you’re still up for it, how about that camping trip I mentioned before? Just the two of us.”

  “Yes! I was hoping that we could have some time together. Ever since you mentioned it, I’ve been hoping that it would work out before the fall term starts.”

  “Then it’s a deal. My parents will be out of Chicago and visiting my sister up in Minnesota that week. We can swing by there for an afternoon, and you can meet the whole gang at once.”

  We continued to talk for a while, when Hunter was interrupted by someone on his end of the conversation. “Leigh, you’ll never believe it. I was just handed a message. I’ll be in the 18th district. That’s your neighborhood. Your neighborhood! Can you believe it?”

  “Really? It is a coincidence. I do know it is considered one of the safest and most quiet of the ones you could have gotten assigned to. So, beside the fact that you’ll be close, it makes me feel better about your safety.” I had been thinking about using my magic to set up this very scenario, but I didn’t want to mess with Hunter’s career. I sure thought about it. Could I have somehow willed this to happen? I didn’t think so. I’m not really that kind of witch.

  “Well, if it wasn’t for you being there, I would have turned this down. I was hoping for a district with a little more action. If you know what I mean.”

  “Listen officer. I can promise you plenty of action. As a matter of fact, I do believe there is a disturbance going on here. Could you please come over and take care of it? Be sure to bring that big baton of yours.”

  “Sorry ma’am you’ll have to take care of it yourself, for now.” As if I hadn’t already been doing plenty of that.

  After a few more sexual innuendos and playful teasing, we said our goodbyes. I was amazed by the uncommonly good luck that seem to push Hunter and me into a perfect scenario. I wondered if there wasn’t some magic afoot. If it was magic, who would be responsible? My guess was Gertie. Whoever was behind it, I owed them a debt of gratitude. In any case, I was done writing for the night. I plucked Luna off my desk, put away her pillow, and shut my laptop, just so she wouldn’t end up getting fur in the keyboard or whatever it was that had caused it to crash earlier.

  Chapter Eight

  News From The Paranormal Plantation

  The next morning I woke up to Luna’s incessant meowing. I was ready to shoo her off the bed when I saw that she was nudging something small and pink across the comforter on my bed.

  I sat up quickly and backed away. Cat people will all tell you that you just never know what sort of gift your cat will surprise you with. “Whatcha got there?” I asked cautiously, as I squinted my eyes to cure the blurry morning-vision. She picked it up and carried it closer. I was quite relived to see that it was just a rolled piece of pink paper. Then it dawned on me, “A scroll!” The pink paper could only mean one thing, something from Gertie’s Paranormal Plantation.

  Hi Leigh,

  There is something important that we need to talk about. As soon as possible! Would you mind a visitor? Randy would like to stop in and see Kelly before she has to start teaching for the fall, so he will be coming with me. If that would be fine, all you have to do is write your answer on the bottom of this paper, roll it back up and give it to Luna. She will know what to do with it. We can be there this afternoon.

  Yours truly,

  Gertie

  I put my hand over my mouth to stop from saying it out loud. Oh my God, she knows what we did to Brad! But how? Did Kelly say something to Randy? Did Brad and Gertie talk to each other? What else could it be?

  After a few minutes, I shook off my thoughts with a final resolution. I’ll just tell her exactly what happened. We had her best interests at heart and we are all very sorry about it. It was just a mistake. If she doesn’t understand then there is nothing more I can say. Let the cards fall where they will, I suppose.

  I reached over to my nightstand and dug around in the drawer for a pen. I scribbled down my rep
ly. That would be great! See you this afternoon. Leigh. Then I rolled the scroll back up and handed it to Luna. She picked it up in her mouth and then just stared at me.

  “Go ahead, Luna. Do what you do.” I was really curious and had every intention of following her.

  Luna started walking towards the door and just as she was about to leave the room, I quietly got out of bed and tiptoed after her. She was going down the hallway towards the living room and at one point she realized that I was following. She turned around, looked, and then kept going. Good. She doesn’t care if I watch. Where the hell is she taking it? I expected her to jump up on the desk. It is a magic desk after all. To my surprise she took it into her carpet upholstered cat playhouse. By the time I looked inside, it was gone.

  I didn’t waste any time in calling Kelly and Lindsey. We had to keep our story straight and all be ready to plead for forgiveness. I held onto a sliver of hope that Lindsey was right, and that Gertie would be completely understanding. That was enough to ease my mind, at least throughout the morning. By noon, I awaited the telltale puff of a little pink cloud that signaled Gertie’s arrival. I spent some time in the kitchen and made a pasta salad for lunch. Still, nothing happened. I brushed Luna and found myself doubting her ability to correctly transmit my reply to Gertie. Luna’s response was a hiss and swift rake of needle sharp claws on the back of my hand. At that point, I didn’t even care if Gertie knew about what we had done to Brad. I just wanted to get it over with. I’m not a good worrier. I suck at it. I took my little broom out of my purse, determined to just zip off to Gertie’s myself and get it over with.

  Thankfully, I didn’t have to risk ending up in an abandoned latrine or in a shed full of hungry dragons. Just as I was looking over my broom, a pink fog rolled out of my bedroom door and down the hallway. “Might as well get it over with right away.” Luna and I went to accept our fate.

  Gertie and Randy were both standing next to my bed. Gertie was typically, Gertie. Disarming, sweet, and undeniably cheerful. What was I worried about? Her beaming smile and bright eyes seemed to actually match her yellow sundress that was covered in large polka dots of orange and pale lime. I noticed that Randy had obviously tampered with Gertie’s attire. Her dress was just too short and she wore cayenne tights. Randy was in some sort of leisure suit. I bit my tongue. If Kelly were here, she would have just said it out loud. Randy. A fucking leisure suit? Really? A blue sharkskin leisure suit. And is that a salmon colored ascot? You look like Gertie’s pimp for God’s sake. But, I’m not Kelly. I simply hugged them both.

  “So Gertie, what’s the news? You have me a little bit concerned.”

  “You won’t believe this, Leigh. Randy has uncovered something huge! It’s really, really big!”

  “Okay, Randy. I’ll play along.” I winked at him and expected to hear a rambling description about all of the wonderful attributes of his latest infatuation. Randy is really a romantic at heart, but I think he suffers from a chronic wandering eye that keeps him from settling on one love interest. “Tell me. What huge thing did you uncover? Just remember one thing, what you think is big and what I think is big, might be two different things, entirely.” I held my hands out and showed the difference in two measurements.

  Randy waved a hand in front of himself and then in front of Gertie, as he presented their outfits. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “I was trying not to. But, if you insist. Let me guess. You’re now Sugar Bear, the charming pimp and this is Cherry Poppins, the disadvantaged sex worker?”

  “No! We’re undercover!”

  “Undercover? Under the influence, perhaps, but—”

  “Well, okay, not exactly undercover. More like private paranormal investigators that are also interior decorators. How can you not take something like that and come up with wild clothes like these?”

  I started humming the theme song for Scooby Doo.

  Gertie jumped back in. “All right, you two. This is serious. We opened up Randy’s Paranormal Chic interior design business right after you left. Our first client turned out to be a witch that lives in Scotland. She lives in this drab old castle that, to be honest, is a little depressing. In fact—”

  “In fact it’s downright creepy! Old castle, cold and damp. Musty, faded tapestries hanging on the walls. Don’t even get me started on the furniture—”

  “Or those poor animals that had their heads chopped off and hung on the walls” Gertie lamented.

  “Yes. That grisly display. I told Elspeth—”

  “Gesundheit!”

  “I didn’t sneeze. The witch’s name. It’s Elspeth.”

  “Elpthpepth? What?”

  “No, damn it. Elspeth. Anyway, I told her that her place needed to be completely gutted. I mean, what are we trying to say here? The Dark Lord’s mansion? Frankenstein’s vacay home? I mean, really. That castle would make Dracula’s dungeon look like a Napa Valley spa.”

  I knew then that Randy wouldn’t have held back his opinion one bit. Like his sister Kelly, he would have dished out a snark-laden, running commentary as he toured this old woman’s castle. “And I take it that she didn’t seem to be all that impressed with your assessment of her home?”

  “Well, I don’t care how she took my honest opinion. She asked us for help, and somewhere inside, she knows I was right. It was a call for help, really. I look at these things as a décor intervention. I told her we could keep the castle theme, of course. Cinderella’s castle? Certainly. Hogwarts? Perhaps. But Dracula’s dungeon had to go.”

  “So, just tell me. Did it end on a good note? And what is this major discovery?”

  “Here, just look at this picture.” Randy took out his phone and brought his photo gallery up on the screen. I took the phone and viewed the images, while Gertie cautiously looked over my shoulder.

  “Well, here is a selfie of you in front of Gertie’s. And one of you and Gertie making duck lips.”

  “I love that picture!” Gertie exclaimed.

  “Just slide those across till you get to the castle pics.”

  “Okay. Gertie in her garden with a parasol. Some cats. More cats. Yuck! You, standing in front of a mirror, in a bathroom, and you are doing something very disturbing. Okay, I’ll admit, it is pretty impressive.” Randy was naked except for a black cape and a set of plastic vampire fangs. He held his quite lengthy, and much engorged erection out in full display. Guys. Gay or not, they seem fascinated with sharing pictures of their junk. Please, stop.

  “Randy! Holy unicorn horn!” Gertie laughed. “I had no idea!”

  “Vlad the Impaler, at your service! Well, not your service.”

  I was a little worried about coming across other images Randy had been sexting, at the same time a little curious. “Here. Wow. I see what you mean. Not you Randy, I mean the castle. That place looks really spooky.” It was a picture of the outside of the old castle. I continued going through them. “What picture am I looking for? This one here? Of that old painting?” It was odd that Randy would take a close up of a particular painting unless he had some special interest in it.

  “Yes. That one. Look closely. Do you see anything familiar about it?”

  “Uh. It’s just an old painting of a woman sitting at a desk, writing with a feather. A quill.” Then I realized what had caught Randy’s eye. “The desk! That’s my desk! Well, it looks like it.”

  “Exactly. It looks like it. Let’s take a look at your desk, compare it to the one in the painting, and see if we can spot anything that would prove they are the same desk. Back in those days, furniture was handmade and each piece is unique.”

  We gathered around my desk. Luna jumped up on it and meowed. We all looked over the desk and the picture.

  It was Gertie who noticed something. “Look at this one back leg. See how it looks like the foot is so much lighter than the rest of the wood? I think that is unique. And look at the painting. That desk has the same light colored foot. The artist intentionally painted that detail. Whoever made this
painting, did that to show that this particular desk was very important and that light colored foot was a way to identify it.”

  Randy and I took a closer look. “I agree with you, Gertie. That is my desk in that painting. Everything is the same, the color, the grain of the wood, even the foot.”

  Randy had a serious look as he pondered what this meant. “It is. Good job, Gertie. Now, we have to wonder who this Elspeth is. Is that her in the painting? And can this be just a coincidence that Gertie and I happened to come across this painting? I don’t think so.”

  “How would she know anything about my desk? I mean, I just don’t see how she could have figured out your connection with my desk and then called you to her castle under the guise of redecorating. And then after all that, not even come out and ask you about the desk? What if you never happened to notice the painting? Does she even know that you were interested in it?”

  Randy hesitated. “No. No way. She doesn’t know that I spotted what looked to be your magic desk in that painting. As a matter of fact, I recall that she was walking way ahead of me when I secretly took that picture. I’m sure I never said a word about it, until Gertie and I left. Pretty sure.”

  I shrugged my shoulders, uncertain if this trivial tidbit meant anything important. “Well, I suppose it’s just a coincidence. It’s interesting, but I don’t think it means anything. So what? It’s a really old desk, and at one time it was in a castle in Scotland. Apparently.”

  Gertie became agitated. “I don’t think that’s the end of the story. The way I see it, when you went looking for a desk, that desk found you. Now, I think it somehow reached out, and called Randy and I to that castle through Elspeth.”

  Randy nodded in agreement. “Right. It wasn’t Elspeth that wanted us to see that painting. It was the desk, and I think that desk is trying to tell us something.”