The Ghoul Next Door (4 page)

“No,” Gil said with a sad little sigh. “He’s got a job in New York. He won’t be back till the weekend after next.”

Fourteen days. I wondered if we could all last that long without Michel as a buffer.

“Anyway, I talked to Ma,” Gil said next, eyeing his puff pastry with more than a hint of guilt in his eyes. He’d been doing so well on his diet.

Abruptly, I remembered the gold charm bracelet. “Yeah? What’d she say?”

“Well,” Gil said, picking away at the pastry, “it seems your dad has a girlfriend.”

I choked on my coffee.
“What?”

He smiled wickedly at me. “It was only a matter of time, M.J.,” he said. “Or in your daddy’s case, twenty-three years.”

I coughed for a bit as Heath patted my back. Mama Dell even rushed over with a glass of water. At last I felt I could breathe without sputtering. “Who is she?”

Gil shrugged. “Ma doesn’t know much other than that her name is Christine Bigelow, originally from Jacksonville. She moved to town about three months ago and took up with your daddy soon after that. Ma says she bought the Porters’ old place and there’s nothing but construction crews up there day and night.”

My brow shot up. The Porters had been a prominent family in Valdosta since before the Civil War. Their home was one of those great big plantation estates with Greek columns, grand porches, and lush rolling lawns. Over the years the Porter family had left the area one by one, venturing to more bustling communities like Atlanta, Jacksonville, and the like. I’d heard that the Porter mansion had been all but vacant in recent years, but I was still surprised to learn now that the house had gone up for sale.

I imagined that although the place might be grand, it’d likely need some major renovation to make it livable. “She bought the Porter place?” I repeated. I was still stunned that my father had taken up with someone. To my knowledge he hadn’t so much as looked at a woman since my mother died. I guess I’d taken it for granted that he never would.

Gil nodded. “She’s got some bucks apparently.”

“What does she do?” I asked next.

Gil smiled slyly. “Do? She doesn’t do anything, M.J. Her husband died and left her a boatload of money. Now she spends that and hangs out with your daddy.”

“How . . . how did they meet?” I didn’t know if I was happy or upset about Daddy dating again. I was bordering on upset because, even though it’d been well over twenty years since Mama died, it still felt a bit like he was cheating on her.

“She went to see him to help set up a trust fund for all the money her husband left her,” Gil said easily.

I wasn’t surprised Gilley knew all these intimate details. The gossip vines in Valdosta are like kudzu—they’re everywhere and cover everything.

“This is good news, right?” Heath asked, peering at me as if he couldn’t understand why my eyes might be watering.

I swallowed hard. “It is,” I said, already wondering if I could send back the charm bracelet.

“Hey,” Gilley said, sitting forward. “Your daddy has been alone for a really long time, honey. It’s okay to let him have some company, right?”

“Sure,” I said, but my voice sounded flat. “Yeah. It’s a good thing.”

Gil and Heath exchanged a look, and it irritated me. It said they thought I might be taking all this a little too hard. I cleared my throat and stood up. “It’s going on three. I’ve gotta get showered and changed for tonight.”

Gilley and Heath got up too. “What’s going on tonight?” Gil asked.

I completely forgot that I hadn’t told him yet. Heath beat me to it. “Sable stopped by the office this morning.”

Gil’s eyes bulged. “Oh. My. God!”

“He asked us to dinner,” Heath went on. “With his fiancée . . . the neurosurgeon.”

It was Gilley’s turn to choke on his coffee. “Whoa,” he said when he could speak clearly. Then his gaze shifted to me. “Awkward . . .”

“Steven has a job for us,” I said quickly, trying to make light of the fact that my ex had gotten engaged mere months after we’d broken up. Also, I knew I’d have to try to rope Gilley into helping us if we decided to take the job. “The fiancée has a brother who’s having some trouble.”

Gil cocked his head. “Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

“The spooky kind,” I said.

“Yikes. Well, thank God I’m free this evening. What time is dinner?”

“Who said you were coming?” The last thing I needed was a snarky, acerbic-tongued dinner guest when we met Steven’s fiancée.

Gilley rolled his eyes. “Honey, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

I glared at him. “No.”

Gil gave me an appraising look. “Sugar,” he drawled, “you’ll need me.”

“Ha!” I scoffed. “Like a hole in the head.”

Gilley shook his head and
tsk
ed. “So, you’re going to rely on Heath to have your back when you meet this gorgeous neurosurgeon with a giant rock on her finger?” Glancing at Heath, Gilley added, “No offense, doll.”

Heath narrowed his eyes at Gil. “None more than usual taken, Gil.”

But I was more focused on what Gilley had just said. “Who said she was gorgeous?”

“Oh, please, M.J.,” Gil said. “Have you ever known Steven to date anyone who wasn’t gorgeous?”

“I’ve only known him to date
me
,” I said levelly.

Gil inspected his nails. “I rest my case.”

“Em,” Heath said, wrapping an arm around my waist. “It’s just dinner. You’ll be fine no matter who shows up because I’ll be there to make sure Sable knows I got the better end of the deal.”

I looked up at my sweet, sincere, sensitive boyfriend and caressed his cheek. Then I turned to Gil and said, “Dinner’s at seven. At Tango’s. Be there on time for once.” And then I headed out of the coffee shop to sprint home and get ready.

Gilley didn’t disappoint. He showed up at my condo in the middle of a full-scale wardrobe meltdown. “How’s it going?” I heard him ask as I threw one of the last remaining pairs of slacks out the door of my closet.

“How do you think it’s going?” I replied. Behind me the bed was a mess of rumpled clothing, hangers, and shoes. I had absolutely nothing suitable to wear because for much of the past ten months, I’d been dressing for demons—not ex-boyfriends and their gorgeous, brainy fiancées.

I heard Gilley clear his throat. “This might work,” he said.

I turned and poked my head out to see Gilley standing there with a garment bag and a shoe box. “What’d you do?”

“Took care of you,” Gil said lazily. “Just like always.”

I grinned and rushed over to take the bag from him. Unzipping it, I peered inside and my breath caught. Inside the garment bag was a gorgeous sheath dress in oh so touchable electric blue suede. Cinched smartly at the waist, it also had a deep V-neck, and a slight slit in the back of the formfitting skirt cut just a few inches above my knee.

I pulled the dress out of the bag and marveled at it. Then I caught sight of the four-hundred-dollar price tag. “Gil!” I yelled.

He rolled his eyes. “Honey, that was before the markdown.”

My brows lifted along with a little hope. “You got a discount?”

“Of course,” he said easily.

“How much?”

“Ten percent.”

I hung my head. “I can’t afford a three-hundred-and-sixty-dollar dress, Gil.”

“You can if you’d do a few readings,” he reminded me. Now that we were on hiatus, Gil had been pushing me to read for some private clients again. I’d resisted because we were awaiting a big bonus from the network for shooting at a seriously dangerous location, but the network was dragging its heels on the money, and the latest rumor was that we weren’t going to see the check until the middle to the end of the summer.

We were also supposed to make a ton of money off the movie that shoot resulted in, but before heading home from Wales, we’d been told that it’d take at least a year or two for that to be released and then another year before we saw any money from it.

And people think that all you have to do is get on television and your money worries are over.

Still, I was reluctant to commit to readings because I’d gotten so burned-out the last time I opened myself up to readings that I was still put off by that exhausting experience. Readings really take it out of me.

“Just a few a month,” he coaxed. I used to command two hundred dollars a session. It was really good money, and it’d allowed me to put a sizable chunk down on the condo when I’d bought it. “And just until we go back to work for
Ghoul Getters
,” Gilley added.

I made a face at him, but I realized I was still clutching the dress to my chest. I reeeeeeally wanted to wear it, and I’m no longer that girl that tucks the tag in and takes a dress back after only wearing it once. If I wore the dress, I was keeping it. “How many readings a month?” I asked Gilley.

He smiled. “No more than twenty.”

I did some more mental calculating. That would be really good money. And it would save Heath and me from having to be so careful about our budget. While I wavered, Gilley added, “I’ve already got a few booked for Heath.”

I blinked. “Heath is doing readings?”

Gil nodded. “He didn’t want me to tell you because he wants to buy you something nice for your birthday, and he said that living in Boston for the summer is crazy expensive and he doesn’t want you to worry about trying to survive on a tight budget all the time.”

I lifted my chin to look out into the hall. I could hear the news broadcast on the TV and I knew Heath was out there lounging on the sofa, waiting for me to figure out my wardrobe for the evening. “He’s a good man, isn’t he?” I whispered to Gil.

“He’s one of the best, honey,” Gil replied, handing me the shoe box. “Now, get dressed and do something with your hair. You have half an hour.”

The shoes Gil had picked out were black patent leather at the heel with electric blue suede at the toe to match the dress. I got myself together quickly and was relieved to see the dress fit like a glove. And, as long as I didn’t breathe too deeply, it was even comfortable.

As for my hair . . . I tried. I tried the curling iron a couple of times and gobs of hair spray, but I have thick chestnut-colored hair that always manages to pull out of the curl. Still, I did manage to at least make it look wavy, and I was happy with the end result.

I walked out of the bedroom after hastily putting most of the clothes on my bed back in the closet, and as both Gilley and Heath jumped to their feet and whistled appreciatively, I think I passed the litmus test.

We arrived at the restaurant, which is just a few blocks down from my place, at only a minute or two past seven. Heath held my hand and I knew he could sense how tense I was—my palm was clearly sweating. He squeezed it and offered me an encouraging smile and I had to marvel at how handsome he was in his black dress slacks and emerald green silk shirt.

On my left Gilley was also smartly dressed in black jeans, matching boots, a charcoal shirt, and snappy vest. On his head he’d even worn his most stylish fedora. He looked like a guy that didn’t have to try very hard to look trendy, and I knew that was partly Michel’s influence and partly just Gilley’s natural taste. It made me feel a little more confident to be buffered by the two men . . . that is, until Steven walked in with a beautiful brunette on his arm.

My ex was dressed in a light tan suede jacket and a white shirt with faded jeans, but his fiancée had on a simple black cocktail dress, which complemented her olive skin tone and set off her hazel eyes.

She had a countenance that wasn’t classically beautiful, but lovely all the same, with large doe eyes, a long thin nose, and full lips encased in a heart-shaped face haloed by long curly hair that bounced when she walked. Mostly, she looked kind and approachable, and the minute I saw her and Steven together, I knew they were made for each other. Courtney was tall and lithe, a perfect complement to Steven’s six-foot frame.

We had little chance to do more than smile nervously at each other when the host, Estevan, approached us with much enthusiasm. “M.J.! Steven! So good to see you two again!”

I felt my cheeks color. This used to be our favorite hangout, and I didn’t think Estevan knew that Steven and I weren’t together anymore. In fact, I knew he didn’t when he stepped in front of us and glanced at the woman clearly on Steven’s arm and my hand clasped in Heath’s. Estevan’s smile became a little forced and his eyes blinked furiously as I could practically see the wheels turning in his head to put it all together. “Hi, Estevan,” Gil said merrily. “There will be five of us for dinner tonight.”

Estevan nodded, that forced smile never losing wattage, and turned swiftly to gather menus. “This way, this way,” he sang. We followed him to the table and took our seats. Courtney and Steven sat opposite Heath and me, and Gil landed to my right and Steven’s left. “I love your dress,” Courtney said as I sat in the chair Heath had pulled out for me.

“Thank you!” I replied, with maybe a
little
too much enthusiasm. “Yours is supercute!”

Gil cleared his throat and gave me a look that begged me to chill out. I got busy unrolling my utensils from the napkin. Estevan then rattled off the specials of the day before making haste to hurry off and wipe his now sweaty brow.

The table fell into a bit of uncomfortable silence and it was Gil who broke the tension by introducing himself. “Hello,” he said, offering Courtney his hand. “I’m Gilley. You must be Courtney.”

She smiled shyly at him. “Hello,” she said. “I’ve heard all about you, Gilley.”

Gil turned his head slightly and pretended to blush. “Oh, my. All good, I hope?”

“All good,” she assured him.

“It’s good to see you,” Steven said to Gilley, and there was genuine warmth in the statement. “I’ve missed you.”

This time Gilley really did blush. He then proceeded to tell Steven all about his new, “devastatingly good-looking” boyfriend and this description and a few of the more humorous tales of Michel and Gilley’s adventures since meeting in Wales lasted well into the ordering of our drinks. At last Gil sat back and winked at me. His tactic had worked. We’d all shared a laugh and the tension at the table had eased.

I then felt obliged to make an effort to be nice and asked, “So, where did you two meet?”

“The hospital,” Courtney said, smiling brightly at Steven. She reached for her utensils at the same time and I had a chance to see the
enormous
rock on her finger. Gilley hadn’t guessed wrong. Steven had gone all out. “We did a consult on a patient who’d suffered a mild heart attack while driving, and he’d had an accident that resulted in a closed head injury.”

“Ouch,” Heath said. “Did he make it?”

Courtney nodded. “He did. He’s had a rough time of it, but he’s alive and doing better every day.”

The waiter came by to take our orders and we all realized we hadn’t looked at the menu. Promising that we’d be ready in just a minute, we all began to skim over the menu. I looked for any vegetarian offerings and found a stuffed ravioli dish with homemade creamy tomato sauce that looked right up my alley. When I placed my order, Steven looked quizzically at me. “You always go for the filet.”

“I’ve given up meat,” I told him. That was a very recent decision, because lately, every time I ate meat, I swore I could feel a hint of the fear and pain the animal had endured before it died. It was something I hadn’t known would affect me, and I was learning that many, many psychics ultimately became vegetarians for that very reason.

Next to me Heath ordered the cheese-filled crepes—also meat free—and he nudged me with his shoulder a little. Meanwhile, Steven had rolled his eyes a little at me and ordered the filet for himself and also for his fiancée, and that was more telling to me than anything, I suppose. We really wouldn’t have lasted as a couple, even if Heath hadn’t entered the picture.

Gilley ordered the salmon and we made small talk until our meal arrived. “So!” Gil said as he tucked into his fish. “When’s the wedding?”

Courtney and Steven exchanged a look that suggested they’d had more than a few discussions about that. “We’re hoping for sometime in early September,” she said.

“First we have to deal with the living situation,” Steven said, more to Courtney than to us. I could tell that was also a much talked-about topic between them.

“You’re welcome to move in with me,” Courtney said, her smile sly.

Steven sighed and focused his attention back on me. “She won’t leave her brother alone in that house.”

Heath cut off a small section of his crepe dish and set it on his bread plate, then offered it to me without my asking. I realized I’d been staring hungrily at his meal with more than a little buyer’s remorse because it looked and smelled amazing—far better than my ravioli. “So, what’s going on with your brother exactly?” Heath asked Courtney.

She stopped cutting into her filet and looked up at him, and I was shocked by the tears that began to fill her eyes. “I wish I knew,” she whispered.

Steven laid a hand on her back to comfort her. “It’s all right,” he encouraged. “Tell them what’s been going on,
bella
. They can help.”

Courtney took a sip of water and shook her head a little, trying to collect herself. “Luke moved in with me about six weeks ago,” she began. “He’d been having a lot of trouble at school, and that’s not like him. He was top in his class going into his senior year at BU, but then he seemed to have some sort of a breakdown. . . .” Courtney’s voice faded away as her eyes misted again.

“What was he studying?” I asked gently, trying to coax the story out of her.

She cleared her throat and took another sip of water. “Nanotechnology,” she said, smiling gratefully at me. “Luke is so smart. He always excelled in school, even with all the stuff happening at home.”

“What happened at home?” Gil asked.

Courtney shrugged. “Our parents were both alcoholics, and for a time we lived in foster care. It was harder on Luke, I think. He was more sensitive to the erratic and unpredictable nature of my mom and dad. I graduated early and went to college on a scholarship, but Luke is eight years younger, so he was home alone with them for a longer, more troubling period. I finally had him come live with me when he was a freshman in high school, and I was the one that kept him off the streets and focused on school. I managed to get him a job briefly at the hospital and then he got a scholarship to BU and I thought he’d escaped all the hard stuff that comes from having such a dysfunctional home life, but maybe it all caught up to him and he invited this . . . whatever this is.”

My brow furrowed. “Whatever what is?” I asked.

Courtney took a deep breath and I could tell that whatever was going on with Luke, it was affecting her deeply. “Something changed,” she whispered, almost as if she was afraid that confessing it would bring something bad into the atmosphere. “Luke was living alone in a house he was renting. It was a dump of a house, and I hadn’t heard from him in a week or two, so I went over to check on him. I found him alone in the dark, all the blinds closed, the house a complete mess—we’re talking garbage on the floor, clothes and bedding tossed everywhere, and my brother sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket with a set of headphones on, rocking back and forth maniacally.

“At first I thought Luke had had some sort of psychotic break—I mean, the scene in that house was just so antithetical to his usual neat and highly organized character. But when I bent down to him, he opened his eyes and said, ‘Make him go away, sis. Make him go away!’”

I put my elbow on the table and leaned forward. “Make who go away, Courtney?”

She shook her head against the memory, making those long curls bounce. “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “But I looked into the eyes of my brother and I knew . . . I
knew
he hadn’t had a psychotic break. He was lucid. His eyes were clear. I’m a neurologist—we’re trained to recognize abnormalities of the brain, and this wasn’t an abnormality.”