Grave Danger (8 page)

Eleanor stood across from them on the opposite side
of the tiny store, gazing at herself in a full length mirror. Lizzy
was handing her another jacket to try on, elbow length with large
brass buttons down the front. She nodded to herself as she turned
left then right, trying to see the look from altering angles in the
mirror.

Lizzy’s store, on Charlotte Street, had a cute
wooden sign outside the glass doors shaped like a pin cushion with
a large knitting needle. It was difficult to find her place of
business if you weren’t dead or among the few livings connected
with their world. Lizzy loved her shop, spending most of her hours
in it or thinking about how she could improve upon it. Her entire
afterlife was about fashion, a leftover trait from her living days.
She felt most at peace when she was thinking about clothing
designs.

“
You’re both killing me with this damned
shopping spree. What the hell do you need to change your clothes
for? And you’ve been at this crap for hours.” Richard folded his
pale arms across his chest, sporting his usual vintage tee. He
never changed out of his death clothes, ever. “I could be eating a
delicious medium rare steak right now, but no, I’m here watching
you two play princess dress-up party.”

“
Oh Richard, stop complaining.” Eleanor took
off her jacket, handing it back to Lizzy. “You’re dead and as far
as I know don’t really need to eat to stay alive. Besides, you can
stand to be a little more patient. There are more things in death
than food. So make yourself useful and help Clarissa pick something
out.”

“
I’m not your personal assistant, Elle,” he
said bitterly, using his nickname for her. Richard watched as Lizzy
strolled toward him with a stack of clothes Eleanor had discarded
in her arms. She was a small woman with reddish brown hair that she
kept in a short bob cut. The clothes looked like they were trying
to swallow her up, only her face and legs were visible.

“
Lizzy,” he called as she came closer to him,
“Why do you always bend and scrap at her majesties every bidding?”
He pushed himself away from the counter, removing the hefty stack
of clothes from her arms. He tossed them in the back room. “She may
be an Eleanor, but she’s no queen. Unless there’s a queen of
drama,” he made an evil face, “Well then that’s all
her.”

“
You’re one to talk Mr. Poltergeist.” Eleanor
hissed, looking at him through the mirror. “I’m sure if you looked
up drama on dictionary.com you would see a picture of your ugly
face.”

Lizzy ignored them both. It was in their nature to
be argumentative with each other. The three of them, Henry,
Richard, and Eleanor, they engaged in regular confrontations with
each other, but seemed to always work things out. One moment
calling each other awful names then laughing and going out on the
town together the next day. Eleanor and Richard could dish out
insults like practiced professionals.

“
I wouldn’t stand so close to that mirror, oh
wicked queen. Are you planning on asking it who is the fairest in
the land? I wouldn’t if I were you; you might be a bit disappointed
to know the truth. Ah, stand back Eleanor. I believe there’s a
crack starting in the glass.”

Clarissa and Lizzy could see that these two enjoyed
being cruel to each other and could easily go too far and seriously
hurt the others feelings. Clarissa took Eleanor and Lizzy took
Richard. It was best to separate them before the heat of their
bantering turned into an uncontrollable firestorm.

Clarissa walked over to Eleanor, another jacket that
Lizzy had handed to her in her hands. She helped Eleanor try it on
and complemented her on the look of it. Lizzy took that moment to
distract Richard from further hassling Eleanor.

“
Is there anything I can help you with,
Richard? Perhaps a new shirt would be nice?” Lizzy questioned,
forcing his attention solely on her. She took out a catalogue from
behind her counter. It had just come in from one of the deadly
fashion distributers. To keep up on current trends the larger dead
community funded projects such as these to put the information into
every soul’s hands. Descendent Digest was hit with readers,
rivaling living magazine distributers in readership. And in the
fashion world, Phantom Fashion was the choice source for the newest
must haves.

“
I got this in yesterday. It’s their
fall/winter collection.” Lizzy opened the thick magazine, placing
it on the counter so Richard could see. Flipping through the glossy
pages she searched for something she would like to see Richard
wearing. Most of the magazine was filled with adverts, ads for pest
protection from the living, creams to keep your ghostly skin
looking radiant all year long, or information on ghostly activities
in the greater area.

“
Do you see anything you might like to try?”
She knew he didn’t care for any of this, but it was worth a shot to
see if he might at least attempt to wear clothes from this modern
era.

Richard leaned over the counter, brushing his arm
against her as he looked down at the pages of the fashion
catalogue. Lizzy cleared her throat and stepped a few inches to her
right. She was his senior by a good ten years or so. But in looks
they appeared closer in age. However, looks were deceiving and
besides they were from entirely different worlds. If only she could
tell her tingling arm that. A brush of his ghostly flesh against
her and she was turned into a spectral puddle.

“
No one actually wears clothes like this in
public.” He pointed to the page. “This guy looks like a total pansy
in that get-up.” Tapping his ghostly finger he continued. “This is
female propaganda against guys like me to get us to wear these
stupid outfits. I’ll keep my own threads on and save myself the
embarrassment.”

“
You’re being ridiculous and I think he looks
very nice. You see the cut of the shirt sets off his chest and it’s
a good color for his complexion.” Lizzy fingered the photo,
imagining Richard wearing the clothes the model was sporting so
well in the photo. Richard would look really good in something
other than his usual eighties rocker outfit, which in her opinion
lost its appeal soon after coming into fashion back then. Now, he
looked more than dated. Maybe he wasn’t a pretty boy model, but he
had a decent build and a masculine handsome face that would
showcase the fall collection superbly.

But Lizzy suspected that Richard kept his aged look
for reasons other than because he couldn’t stand current fashion.
He was holding on to more than his old wardrobe. She could relate
to whatever hurt kept Richard from moving forward with his
afterlife. Though she would never say so, they were kindred
spirits, lost and lonely souls.

“
Is this what you like, Lizzy?” Richard
furrowed his dark brows leaning forward till their faces were only
inches apart. “These kinds of guys with their prissy haircuts and
tailored designer duds, is that what you’re into?”

Lizzy could feel his ghostly presence so close to
her. It was exciting and frightening. She had never been attracted
to another ghost, not in her entire death. She’d never thought
about such things. Moving here three years ago from New York, she
had pictured having a different existence. But in all her
planning’s she had never thought about love.

She was aware that ghosts could and did have
relationships with each other. Mr. and Mrs. Mendez was one couple
in particular. Finding love even in death was a special blessing as
those two had both been fortunate to find.

“
Sure,” she answered him. Turning her head,
she met him, eye to eye. She noticed he had green eyes with flecks
of brown in them and they were spectacular. “I’m a dressmaker, so
of course I like to see put together men, prissy hair and
all.”

He didn’t seem to like her answer, pulling back as
he made a disgusted face at her. “That just figures, doesn’t it?”
he said angrily.

Lizzy folded her arms across her small chest,
defensive, raising her delicate eyebrows up at him. “What do you
want me to say, Richard? That I like guys who dress like they went
to bed and woke up the next morning in the same cloths. I like
fashion and I like guys who take the time to dress to current
fashion and don’t dress like slobs.”

If she had wanted to wound him with her words, she
succeeded. Lizzy could cut through his protective snarky exterior
and do serious damage to the man underneath. He was stuck in the
eighties and for a damn good reason. A reason he wasn’t ready to
explore even after all these years.

Richard had only his pride left to him. His death
had stripped almost everything else away and he knew with absolute
certainty that Mrs. Elizabeth Sands would forever be just out of
his reach. She was too damn good for him, too nice and too
innocent. She deserved a guy like the one she had pointed to in the
glossy sheets of her fashion catalogue, not him.

She had come to St. Augustine three years earlier
from New York City where her still living husband lived with his
new family. After more than thirty years of watching him live his
life she had taken the final step and left him behind. Her husband
had remarried several years after her untimely death, creating a
new family; one that she couldn’t be part of. But she still kept
her married name which stated quite clearly that she had yet to
move on completely. Richard knew that she would never let him take
the place of her husband in her heart. He would be a fool to ever
think she would.

“
I’ll be outside.” He spoke in a chilling
voice. “You can send them out when they’re done playing
dress-up.”

Richard turned and walked away from Lizzy, never
seeing the bright tear slip quietly down her pale cheek.

Lizzy quickly dabbed at her eyes, turning away from
the other two women so she could compose herself in private. She
had been cruel to him, but he had been asking for it for a long
time. And she had lied. She didn’t want some picture perfect
magazine model. Lizzy wanted a handsome rebel, bad boy who never
brushed his hair except with his fingers. One that looked like he
threw on whatever garment was closest at hand at the time, a
bedraggled smart mouth that not only haunted the streets of St.
Augustine, but haunted her dreams as well. And she would be a fool
to think that he would find her in any way attractive.

Usually, the few times he did speak to her, he was
questioning everything she did or didn’t do. He was bossy and
argumentative and he would never want to be with a push-over like
her. They were too much of an opposite to ever be compatible; that
whole line that opposites attract was total bullshit.

Lizzy sighed as she moved to view herself in a small
table mirror, fixing her hair and wiping at her face. Her ghostly
pale reflection stared back at her with sad eyes. But the real
sadness lay deep in her heart where no one could see. Her real
heart might be dead and silent, but her soul’s heart wanted what so
few of them ever found, a connection. As a ghost, she felt she was
distanced from much of the world. It was only with the connection
of souls that this existence became somewhat bearable.

Plastering a false smile on her mouth, she turned to
the two women. It was best to keep secret dreams in the safe
keeping of her inner soul where no one else could hurt or crush
them. In some ways Lizzy believed she deserved this pain, some
misdeed in her past existence forcing her to exist in this form as
punishment. Seeing Richard flirt and talk with other women was that
punishment. And surprisingly that hurt much worse than watching her
husband marry another woman. Richard Pomar would forever be out of
her reach.

Lizzy turned her thoughts away from such melancholy.
Being a dressmaker for her community was rewarding and she was a
prized citizen within the city. She had even been selected to dress
noted figures in the community at large, not just the ones in St.
Augustine, but those at the very top of the paranormal world. If
not for her love of fashion, Lizzy would be a wandering broken
soul; this kept her grounded. And right now she needed to be
grounded, or be swept away by despair.

Lizzy helped Eleanor finalize her selections and
pick out some much needed outfits for the city’s newest citizen,
Clarissa. The woman was strangely unique though at first it wasn’t
noticeable. It would be interesting to find out more about her.
Lizzy, like Eleanor had a talent for sensing the paranormal
currents on a higher level than the others. Clarissa was a soul
they hadn’t seen in quite some time.

Chapter 5-

“
What are you daydreaming about over there?”
Richard waved his hand in front of Clarissa’s face bringing her
attention back to him and Eleanor. They were having lunch at
The Boneyard Grill
, a barbeque joint
just off of San Marco Ave. It was one of Richard’s favorite places
to eat that served red meat specifically.

“
Clarissa, anyone home in there?” Richard was
sitting across from her, Eleanor on her right in a booth by the
window which overlooked the street. It was after lunch hours now
and the place was a ghost town, literally, with only a few ghosts
occupying seats in the restaurant.

They had, upon Richard’s insistence, ordered each a
two inch slab of medium rare sirloin. If you didn’t know better,
you might think it had actually come from a cow. Clarissa had
barely made a dent in her steak. Her mind was too preoccupied to
enjoy her food, but she couldn’t deny it wasn’t delicious. Clare
had some competition with the owner and barbecue expert Frederick
Vern; Dead Fred to his friends. He served up some of the best
barbecued beef and pork; it would be a sin to cover it in sauce. If
you even tried to put ketchup on one of his creations you were
swiftly booted out the front door.