Our Red Hot Romance Is Leaving Me Blue (21 page)

“Hell, Debbie Sue, I didn’t expect to get here alive. I figured it wouldn’t matter how I looked. I figured they’d mess me up at the autopsy anyway.”

Debbie Sue took her shaky friend by the arm. “Well, you’ve shown Vic you’re a good sport. And you’ve stayed with your pledge to try anything once before you die. You don’t have to ride it again. Buddy and I’ll give you a ride home tonight.”

“To hell with that,” Edwina said, lifting her arm away from Debbie Sue’s grip. “Vic’s planning on me riding to Terlingua with him this fall. And if that sweet man wants me there, then pick out your crayons and color me in.”

“Bad hair, bugs on your teeth and all?”

“Hell, yes. I don’t care if I look like a tractor’s windshield and the bride of Dracula combined.” She stared off into the distance. “Maybe I’ll cut my hair real short. That would work. You’ll pray for me won’t you, Dippity-Do?”

Debbie Sue laughed again. “You might not know it, Ed, but I already do. All the time.”

They had already opened the front door and walked into the foyer of Justin’s house before Debbie Sue remembered she hadn’t asked Edwina about the arrest for prostitution.
Fuck,
this evening wasn’t starting out all that great and she had no reason to believe it would improve.

S
ophia looked toward the front door as Debbie Sue and Edwina came in. Vic was in the middle of telling Buddy an animated story of how much time he had invested in bringing a dilapidated Harley back to life. He was even more excited that his better half was going to travel with him to Terlingua.

Startled when Vic bounded into the room, Sophia had been torn between hiding behind the sofa and fleeing through the back door. From the comments Debbie Sue and Edwina had made about him, Sophia could see he was everything she had expected and nothing she could have imagined. He looked like a hard-core survivor of
The Ultimate Fighter
—rough hewn, scarred, muscled and worn. But
his boylike excitement over his new toy was genuine and somehow sweet.

While he might be ecstatic, one look at Edwina’s disheveled state told a different story.

“Hi, Debbie Sue, Edwina,” Sophia said. “Vic was just telling us about the work he’s done on his motorcycle. I’ve never ridden one. I’m afraid I’m a chicken.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t be afraid,” Edwina said. “It’s safe as a…uh…what was that again, hon?” she said to Vic.

“Safe as a baby in its mama’s arms,” Vic answered with a broad grin.

“Yeah,” Edwina said, unsmiling. “Safe as a baby. Now that I’ve ridden with you, maybe being a baby is the right approach. No makeup, no hair, no teeth working double duty as a bug screen. And the notion of me wearing a diaper probably isn’t a bad idea.”

Vic’s bellowing laugh filled the room. “Isn’t she great?” His huge arms engulfed her thin body in a hug. “This woman’s what every man wants and most will never have.” He planted a kiss on her cheek and smiled down at her affectionately.

Edwina visibly melted. Her shoulders sagged and she blushed a deep hue. Sophia was moved, but she couldn’t let herself be distracted.

It’s time
, she told herself. She cleared her throat. “We should get started. Let me tell you some basic rules. We’ll sit in a circle, holding hands at first until contact is made. No matter what happens don’t disturb me or anyone else that a spirit might have inhabited—”

“Inhabited? Anyone else?” Edwina’s eyes bugged. She gasped. “I thought that could only happen to a medium!”

Surprised and troubled by Edwina’s vehemence, Sophia worked to speak in an even tone. “Normally, yes. But sometimes spirits will take control of an easy receptor.”

“Mama Doll,” Vic said, rubbing her arm. “This doesn’t mean a spirit will inhabit you.”

“Yeah, Ed,” Debbie Sue added. “I wouldn’t call you an easy receptor.”

“Didn’t you hear what she said?” Edwina snapped. “God, I’ve practically got ‘Look at me. I’m an easy receptor’ tattooed on my forehead.”

“Whatever happens, Edwina,” Sophia continued, “you’re in a safe environment. A spirit cannot make you do anything your own free will wouldn’t.”

“If that was meant to make me feel better you don’t know me very well,” Edwina grumbled.

“Go ahead with the list, Sophia,” Debbie Sue said, giving Edwina an evil eye. “We’re listening.”

Holding two fingers up, Sophia went on. “No laughing and no breaking the bond of the circle on your own. If a spirit moves you from the circle, that’s fine. And lastly, no hysteria, okay?”

“Hysteria,” Edwina repeated.

“Is that all?” Justin asked nervously. “Are we ready to start?”

Sophia produced the white roses she had bought at Target and reached into her plastic sack and pulled out the white candles. She handed them around the room like party favors.
If each of you would please distribute these throughout the room and light them.” She turned to Justin. “Do you have a vase for the roses?”

“Sure do.” Justin picked up the paper flute of roses and walked toward the kitchen, stopping briefly to sort through some CDs and make a selection. The soothing sounds of Kenny G’s soprano saxophone filled the room.

Sophia motioned everyone into the dining area, which was just off the kitchen. Let’s all sit,” she said, gesturing a circle around the oval dining table with her hand. “Boy, girl, boy, girl.”

The five participants pulled out chairs and took seats around the table, leaving one of the end positions for her.

Justin came from the kitchen with a wonderful cut crystal vase holding the roses. “Where do you want them?”

“Just place them in the center of the table.”

He did and the subtle scent of the roses floated all around them in the small room.

“This looks more like a romantic dinner party,” Buddy said, eyeing the vase of flowers.

Sophia smiled. His comment seemed real, no sarcasm intended. He was heart-stoppingly handsome, she thought, and the ultimate gentleman. He was serious and solemn in his demeanor, exactly how she had always imagined a Texas Ranger would be. “Spirits respond to a flickering light. The music and flowers conjure up pleasant earthly memories.”

“Are you sure they’re not remembering their own funerals?” Vic asked.

“That’s an interesting question, Vic,” Sophia said. “I sup
pose it’s possible.” She went to the light switches on the wall and turned off all the lighting, leaving only the candles’ golden glow as illumination.

Taking her seat at the head of the table, she placed the black box in front of her. She had kept it in the sack with the other accessories until now. She feared it might be too theatrical for the séance first timers, but she had seen Gran Bella use its contents with success many times.

“What’s in the box?” Edwina asked.

“These are items that help the spirits connect with us. With a group this large, any number of entities could emerge. We might need a little help.”

“I don’t understand,” Justin said. “I thought we were trying to make contact with Rachel.”

“We are hoping to,” Sophia said in a soothing, sweet voice, “but the comings and goings of others cannot be predicted. These items give the spirits identities.”

“You’ve got my curiosity up,” Debbie Sue said, rising a little in her seat to see the contents of the box. “Let’s see the stuff.”

Sophia removed the lid and lifted out a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a cigar, a small ashtray, a pair of glasses, a package of gum, a shot glass and a half pint of Wild Turkey whiskey.

“Damn,” Edwina said. “This looks like a party to me.”

“If it’s not, it’s sure a good start,” Vic added.

Sophia smiled. “We might not need any of these things. We’ll just have to wait and see. Now, would everyone please take the hands of the people next to you and remember, do not break the circle until contact is made.”

“God, hold everything,” Edwina said. “I gotta pee.” She rose and trekked from the room.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that. Does anyone else need to leave?”

“I’m good,” Debbie Sue replied and all three men mumbled agreement.

After what seemed an eternity, Edwina returned, “Sorry, y’all. I figured it was better to go now than deal with a catastrophe later.”

“Now,” Sophia said regaining everyone’s attention, “please join hands.”

Sophia led a brief prayer asking for guidance, and after a chorus of amens, she closed her eyes and began. “We are here to communicate with the spirit in this home,” she intoned, followed by silence. Outside, crickets chirped, a coyote howled, but no noises pervaded the house. Sophia willed her mind to remain centered on making contact.

It wasn’t unheard of that a mentalist would have to try several sessions to reach an earthbound spirit and sometimes it never happened at all. She suspected this group of realists—a professional cop, a retired soldier, a professional firefighter and two amateur detectives—wouldn’t accept that explanation. They would see the failure of a spirit to appear as an excuse or possibly even a con game. The worst possible thing she could do now was to let herself be distracted and anxious, but at this particular moment she was becoming very distracted and miserably anxious.

After an extended silence, her senses told her someone was present, waiting and watching. Something was happening—
not to the group, but to Sophia. A spirit or spirits were close at hand. Still, part of her insecure subconscious feared nothing would happen. She spoke again. “We are here to communicate with the spirit in this home.”

At that moment, she felt a slight brush against her arm. Opening one eye, she saw that Debbie Sue was reaching over her and pulling a cigarette from its pack. She had broken her link with her husband and with Vic and was now disencumbered. Buddy’s eyes were open and he was watching her suspiciously. Sophia lifted her hand, signaling him to remain silent.

Sophia had not seen Debbie Sue smoke any of the times she had been in her presence, but if a nicotine craving increased with tension, the present circumstances would certainly play on a smoker’s nerves.

Debbie Sue tapped the end of the cigarette on the table, then with the practiced habit of one who had smoked a long time, placed the cigarette into the corner of her mouth. She picked up the lighter, clicked on a bright yellow flame, lit the cigarette’s end and drew in deeply. She sighed and expelled a plume of smoke. She combed her fingers through her long reddish hair, pushed away from the table and propped her ankle on her knee. She stared intently at Edwina.

By now the breaking of the chain and the odor of cigarette smoke had prompted all eyes to open and everyone’s attention was glued to the smoker. Buddy, Vic and Edwina’s faces showed jaw-dropping astonishment, while Justin looked on with what Sophia determined was curiosity.

Edwina’s eyes bugged. “Debbie Sue, what do you think
you’re doing? You’ve never smoked a cigarette in your life.”

Sophia felt a deep trembling within. This bit of news was all she needed to recognize that a spirit had indeed come forward and entered Debbie Sue’s body. She had become a receptor. And Sophia doubted the guilty spirit was the soul of Justin’s sweet departed Rachel. Why Debbie Sue had been chosen Sophia might never know, but clearly the spirit was a strong entity and had seized the opportunity to come forward.

Sophia knew she had to take control of the situation quickly. The spirit was the least of her worries now. She was more concerned with the living and their reaction to the unexpected visitor.

“Welcome,” she finally said. “You behave as if you haven’t smoked in a while.”

Debbie Sue cut her eyes from Edwina to Sophia. “You’re the medium, aren’t you? You’re a pretty little thing. Part Mexican, huh?”

Before Sophia could answer, Buddy grabbed her forearm in a viselike grip. “Is Debbie Sue all right? What’s going on here? I don’t like this.”

The smoker turned her gaze on Buddy and looked him up and down lasciviously. “I’m only borrowing her, handsome. She’s just fine. You know, I kinda like the cut of your jib, if you get my drift.”

“Would you like to share your name with us?” Sophia asked in an even voice. “Do you have a message for someone or is there someone you’d like to speak to directly?”

The smoker drew a long, deep pull on the cigarette.
“Yeah.” She looked across the table at Edwina. “Christ-on-a-crutch, Edwina. What in the hell did you do to your hair? It looks like you combed it with a hand mixer. In plain words, you look like shit.”

Sophia darted a look at Edwina, who sat as if in a trance, eyes bigger than saucers and unblinking. Finally, a mouse-like squeak came from Edwina. She went from a state of unblinking to blinking rapidly. “Lit-Little—”

“Lit-Little…Lit-Little…” Debbie Sue said, mocking Edwina. “I see time hasn’t made you any smarter. I’ll never understand what my sweet baby boy saw in you. He could have had a dozen other women, but for some godforsaken reason he married you.”

She took another drag off the cigarette and tamped the butt into the ashtray. She gestured to Vic, who had placed a protective arm about Edwina’s chair and was leaning into her. “Who’s this dude you’ve picked up? He looks like a dildo with a face.”

Buddy leaned forward. “That’s enough. I don’t—”

Sophia stopped him by raising her palm. She watched Edwina cautiously, looking for a signal her expertise was needed, but apparently the last remark by the visitor had been a trigger.

Edwina no longer appeared frightened or dumbstruck. Squinting and propping one elbow on the table, she leaned forward. “Little Pearl, you’ve never been anything but an old bitch. You can say what you want about me, but don’t you dare say anything against Vic Martin. This man is the best thing that was ever born. He treats me better than anybody
ever has, including my own kin. And by God, he liberated Kuwait! And another thing, your precious
baby boy did
have a dozen other women, all within a month after marrying me!”

Debbie Sue’s shoulders sagged, her chin dropped and rested on her chest. As quickly as the soul had appeared it seemed to have departed its living receptor.

Sophia sensed everyone was poised to speak, but she held up her palm, gesturing them to silence. She would be the only one to speak. “Debbie Sue, are you with us? Are you all right?…Debbie Sue? Can you hear me?”

Debbie Sue raised her head and looked around the table with a bewildered expression. Turning to Buddy she asked, “My mouth tastes like a bird pooped on my tongue. And I’m feeling kind of sick to my stomach.” She sprang to her feet and rushed toward the hall bathroom, from where retching sounds emanated seconds later.

Buddy rose, walked back into the living room and returned carrying his hat. “Sorry, folks, but this is enough. We’re calling it a night.”

Before he could march toward the bathroom, Debbie Sue returned. “Not on your life, Buddy Overstreet. We’re really close to something happening here. I say let’s keep going.”

“You don’t remember anything?” Sophia asked.

Debbie Sue looked at each person. “What am I supposed to remember? Did I crow like a rooster?”

“Are you still feeling ill?” Sophia asked.

“I’m better now. Must have been something I ate.” Rubbing her stomach she looked at the group, “Well, how ’bout it? Aren’t we gonna keep going?”

Buddy firmly plopped his Stetson on his head. “The only place we’re going, Flash, is home. Sophia, Justin, sorry, but I really think I need to get her home.”