Free Spirit Page 17

  “It’s just a party, not a royal visit.”

  “It is a royal visit and I suspect my ass is on the line on this one. These Ozzie guys are important.”

  “Aussie.”

  “What?”

  “Aussie, not Ozzie.”

  “No difference.”

  “To them there is. Aussie, even though it’s pronounced Ozzie.”

  “That’s stupid.” Priory was skeptical. The least of her worries was how her guests addressed themselves. She had a boss to impress. She studied Jacey across the table. Was this party that important? Six months ago she would have answered unequivocally yes. Now she wasn’t so sure. It was all so exhausting, testing her stamina to the limits.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She looked up. “Huh?”

  “You’re deep in thought. Anything wrong?”

  “Besides the obvious, you mean? I just realized how tired I was.”

  “How long since you had a holiday?”

  “Since….” Priory had to think really hard. “I can’t remember.”

  “Before my time,” Jacey concluded

  “This party is the last straw. I thought buying this house was a great idea. Now, I’m not so sure.” Jacey’s expression didn’t surprise her. “It was supposed to be what I wanted. I thought an hour-and-a-half travel each way would be nothing since I was already taking nearly an hour from my apartment. Half of my time is spent in a hotel because it’s too late to go home. Besides the expense, I only see this place on the weekends. I’m losing myself, Jace. Work is getting busier, time is getting shorter, and my life is frittering away.”

  “A mid-life crisis?” Jacey offered.

  “Who knows? Maybe. I feel I’m coming to a point where I’ll have to make a decision about what I want out of my life.” Priory could feel Jacey intensely watching her. Was she wondering what her position in this decision would be? “I like this house but something’s going to give … soon.”

  “We’re not budging,” Dylan said emphatically.

  “I didn’t say you were.” Priory took a sip. “Who said you could listen in?”

  “We did, as it concerns us. You like the place, huh?”

  “It has its moments.”

  “This party is a snap, Convent. I don’t know what you’re worrying about. You have the caterers coming in. What’s to cook?”

  “It’s not the cooking. It’s always being on edge, waiting for something to go wrong. Or getting asked a question I don’t know the answer to. Or wondering what you two are up to. Or Eddles finding something else to throw in my way.”

  “You worry too much. Ply them with enough hooch and it’s in the bag. We’ll behave ourselves, won’t we, Rhee?”

  “Sure.”

  “Or there will be hell to pay,” Priory responded.

  “Hey, stop using that word!”

  “Do you realize what would happen if you were observed by thirty guests?”

  “Thirty people would know we exist,” Dylan replied.

  “If thirty people claimed to see a ghost, we’d be overrun with government people, scientists, paranormal investigators, TV people with cameras, enthusiasts, and the curious. There’d probably be a nutcase or two out there who would burn down the place for fun.”

  “You worry too much.”

  “She has a point, Lanie,” Rhea pleaded. “It could be dangerous … for all of us.”

  “I get it.”

  And I have the rights to sell the Empire State Building, Priory thought. She truly doubted Dylan had, indeed, got it. Trying to stop her from interfering would be like pushing water uphill. “I don’t want to ply them with a lot of drink because this place will end up as Bates Motel. I want them to go home after the party.”

  “That might be a problem,” Jacey pointed out.

  “I know. That’s why I asked Edwards to organize transport. Having thirty-odd people as overnight guests is not my idea of fun.”

  “Do you think he’ll do it?”

  Priory sighed deeply. “That’s the million-dollar question. Maybe not. I will probably have to face the fact that I will have overnight guests, whether I want them or not.”

  “No wonder you’re stressed.”

  Priory reached across the table and squeezed Jacey’s hand. “Thanks for all the help. I know things have been a little … unsettled.” When Jacey smiled, she continued. “You have been my rock.”

  “What’s with the party next week?” Dylan floated closer. “Isn’t a work party supposed to be, like, on Christmas Eve? You know, eat, drink, be merry, and throw up on your way home?”

  “Edwards said something about the Ozzies—excuse me, Aussies—wanting to be home with their families for Christmas.”

  “What are these Ossies?”

  “They’re from Australia, Lanie.”

  “Australia? You mean, they actually come from there? That’d take months!”

  “Not if you fly.”

  “I knew it was a matter of time before it’d happen. You don’t have to wait to die before you could have wings.”

  “Is she for real?” Priory’s eyebrows rose halfway up her forehead.

  “’Fraid so.” Rhea looked benevolently at her ghostly partner.

  “By airplane, doody breath!” Priory replied. “I’m sure you’ve heard of those.”

  “Listen here, pipsqueak!” Dylan cast a large shadow over her. “I’m getting sick and tired of your snide remarks.”

  Priory’s jaw dropped.

  “Yes, I said ‘snide remarks’. And if you want me to behave at this party, you better stop teasing me.”

  Uh-oh. Priory had reached Dylan’s tease threshold. “Sure, Dexter.” She glanced at Jacey, who had an I-told-you-so look on her face. There was too much to do without facing opposition from a real airhead. As she rinsed out her mug, she called over her shoulder, “Let’s get to work.”

  They made their way back to the dismembered tree and looked at the carnage with an eye to salvage.

  Pop. Pop. Pop.

  Priory hated that noise. She turned and gave Jacey a glare. The offending bubble wrap rested in Jacey’s hands.

  “Do you mind?”

  “What?”

  “That incessant popping. It drives me crazy.”

  “Really?” Dylan showed a distinct interest in that piece of information.

  Before she could act on it, Priory gathered up the wrap and carried it out to the trash can, and out of reach of her unwelcome houseguests. She re-entered the house.

  “Now, can we get back to business?”

  “How do you do that?” Dylan asked Jacey, watching her movement closely.

  “It’s like a bag filled with air, but much smaller. It’s used as packing material, like newspaper.”

  Priory gritted her teeth as Jacey explained. No good would come of this.

  “Nowadays, people use it as much for stress relief as packing.” She popped another couple of bubbles.

  “Arrgghhh!” Priory left the room before she went completely mad. “Coffee. Yeah, coffee.” She switched on the coffee maker and buried her head in the refrigerator for the milk. Anything to stop the horrific sound of bubble wrap breaking.

  There was one single pop.

  “Ah, now I see.”

  The familiar female ghostly echo of the words sounded like a death knell. Casper had knowledge of her Achilles’ heel. Now she had to do a careful search of the house for any remaining ammunition for her archenemy.

  Jacey watched Priory leave in search of the elusive bubble wrap, closely followed by Dylan who, she suspected, would try to intercept some of the plastic before it was disposed of. She turned her attention to Rhea, who quietly floated in one corner of the kitchen.

  “Don’t you ever get tired of this?” Jacey blurted out before she had the chance to stop herself. Besides, how many chances would she get to ask the question?

  “This?” Rhea looked confused.

  “Being a ghost. Knowing that this is forever.” Had she cr
ossed the line? Maybe she had, but the question was out there now. “Sorry, Rhea. I didn’t mean to be nosy.”

  “But it’s not a question you can ask just anybody, right?” Rhea tried to sound upbeat, but Jacey knew she had hit a nerve.

  “Look, you don’t have to answer. I was just curious about what it’s like to … you know.”

  Rhea stared at the wall for some time and Jacey wondered if she would get an answer.

  “Lonely,” Rhea finally answered.

  “But you have Dylan.”

  “And yet still lonely. Lanie is all I have. There is no one else. We are part of this world without being able to participate in it. I think, see, and feel emotion, but I can’t touch, taste, or breathe. It’s like being … half a person, Jacey.”

  Jacey tried to hold back the tears, but her cheek felt the moisture.

  “We are bound to this place. We have no idea what’s going on out in the world; only what humans say in their everyday lives. Every day we risk our bones being found and buried. I don’t want to lose Dylan, but what if that happens? What will happen to her? To me? Will my existence become even more lonely or will there be nothing?”

  “Is it existence?”

  “Is it?” Rhea countered. “What is existence? Self-awareness? A physical body? I have my mind. I don’t have my body. Instead, I am here, but not here, for the last eighty years. How much longer do I have in this twilight?”

  “Don’t think about it. Live for the day. Or exist for the day.”

  “How can I not think about it?” Rhea countered.

  “You need a hobby.”

  Rhea laughed, her light voice ringing through the house. “A hobby. For a ghost,” she said.

  “I know you already have one, keeping Dylan out of trouble, but you need something to occupy your time.”

  “Like what? Why would you want to help me?”

  “Maybe I’m a sucker for a sad story.” Jacey looked into those translucent eyes. “Let me think about it.”

  “Anything else you want to know?” It was a blunt question, but the voice contained no hint of malice or sarcasm.

  “Umm.” Jacey had many questions, but she felt she had used up all her curiosity cards.

  “I won’t bite,” Rhea teased.

  “How do you”—Jacey waved her finger about—“make things move?”

  “I have no idea.” Rhea held up her own translucent hand and wiggled her fingers. “It’s not like they give you instructions when you die. I think about it hard and try to imagine what I want to do with it. Unfortunately, we get very little practice. This house is more empty than occupied. What can you move in an empty house?”

  “You have a point.” Jacey added finding Rhea a hobby to her mental to-do list.

  “Sometimes we get it wrong, as you can see by the tree. We really did try, Jacey.”

  “I know that, and I’m sure Priory will know that too, once she’s calmed down.”

  “You know, you’re the first people to actually come back.”

  “Priory’s stubborn that way.”

  “Just like Dylan.”

  “Two peas in a pod.” Jacey smiled at Rhea and received a smile in return. Sisters in sympathy.

  “Two angry, pushy peas,” Rhea corrected.

  “We have our work cut out for us, don’t we?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Priory stood at the kitchen door and watched the caterers go about their business. The last week had been hectic getting ready for the party, and now it was here. She couldn’t wait for it to be over. Work had thrown her a curveball with an urgent contract, but at least Eddles had kept his distance. Now all she had to do was survive the night.

  Jacey had worked a minor miracle to keep her on track and her sanity in check, so despite it being an executive company party, Priory had invited her. After all, it was as much Jacey’s party as it was her own.

  She gnawed at her lower lip, wondering what the night would bring. Could Dylan control herself or would all hell break loose? One of the catering staff accidentally nudged a glass toward the edge of the table and Priory held her breath waiting for the resulting crash as it hit the floor. She watched the movement in slow motion as the glass teetered on the edge of the table and was about to fall to the floor.

  But it didn’t happen. The glass slowly righted itself and carefully maneuvered itself back onto solid tabletop. Priory quickly looked around. Luckily, the catering woman had turned away, obviously unaware of her mistake, and didn’t see the sleight of hand performed by Dylan.

  Damn you, Casper! You promised!

  Actually, she hadn’t promised, but she had given Priory the impression she would behave. Priory’s mind interpreted that as a promise. Her gaze flickered around for any sign that would give Dylan away. Was this the beginning of a war of attrition on Priory’s nerves? What was next?

  Priory stood there for a few minutes waiting for another show of ghostly intervention. One canape shifted slightly so it was in line with the rest of the plate. Now she had an OCD ghost? She couldn’t bear to watch the incessant nudging and twisting of the food to Dylan’s satisfaction, so she removed herself from the kitchen.

  At the bottom of the stairs she considered her next move. Her blank mind offered little help. Had she forgotten something? No, surely every little detail had been gone over a number of times. Priory looked at her watch. Less than half an hour before the expected arrival of guests. She felt sick to her stomach.

  A gentle clearing of a throat made her look up. “Wow!” she whispered.

  Jacey stood at the top of the stairs. In Priory’s eyes she looked like a princess arriving for her ball. The knee-length burgundy cocktail dress fitted in all the right places, and then some. It was like the dress had been sprayed onto her, and despite the lace overlay that covered her arms, it did little to hide the alluring picture. A thin line of sweat broke out on Priory’s upper lip as she looked for the telltale line of underwear. “Holy cow!” she said quietly. There wasn’t any.

  Jacey took a few tentative steps down the staircase toward her.

  “You look….” Priory’s words caught in her throat. Jacey’s smile widened at the compliment.

  “You don’t look too bad yourself,” Jacey commented.

  Priory had gone with the simple black cocktail dress with a black beaded jacket, her hair drawn up into a cascading waterfall of dark tresses. She knew she looked okay. The shining look of admiration in Jacey’s eyes sent tingles through her body. Suddenly, she wanted to rip off the enticing dress Jacey was wearing and discover all those secret places she was privy to. She was so close to telling her guests to go home.

  “Whoa there, tiger,” Jacey whispered when she reached the bottom of the stairs. “Plenty of time for that later.”

  “Yeah, but in the meantime I have to suffer fools and idiots.”

  “I hope you’re not including me in that description.”

  Priory gave Jacey her best “as if” expression.

  “Besides, I have to suffer tonight because of that dress.” Jacey turned her around and she could feel the heat of Jacey’s stare. Despite the bad news that she wouldn’t get Jacey alone for a number of hours, the good news was that she had the woman’s attention right where she wanted it … on her ass.

  Her fingers twitched. It was going to be tortuous.

  †

  The party had been going on for an hour and Dylan was, well, not exactly bored, but she had an itch for something dramatic to happen to stir up the drinking festival going on in her home. She knew very well it technically wasn’t her house, but wasn’t inhabiting the place nine-tenths of the law? She’d been here a lot longer than Convent had, after all.

  Don’t even think about it.

  That voice, and its possessor, had kept her sane. If she’d inhabited the house on her own, it surely would have been her own personal hell.

  You promised, Lanie.

  No, I didn’t.

  You gave Pri
ory the impression that you would behave. Be nice.

  But this is boring. It’s just a bunch of people drinking.

  What did you expect? Party games?

  Well….

  No. Let them be.

  Have you heard some of the trash they talkin’? Does she really deserve that?

  Drink does that to you, or have you forgotten?

  It had been a while. The memory of food and drink had faded and she wondered how she would cope with booze now.

  Do they really think that of her and Jacey?

  It’s a man’s world.

  Still? What have these women been doing for the last eighty years? Slumming? Dylan watched the predominantly male crowd before her. No wives?

  Seems not. Probably not a bad idea, under the circumstances. Who knows what would come out of those mouths after a few drinks?

  Men. It really makes me want to do something about it.

  Like what? If you’ve forgotten, we’re stuck in this house.

  And in this room, Rhee. Work with what you’ve got.

  Even if you danced naked on a table it’s not going to change men’s attitudes overnight.

  Hmmm….

  Now Lanie, don’t do something stupid. You promised.

  A portly gentleman wandered past them, oblivious to their presence.

  Didn’t what’s-her-name mention something about a piece of blubber causing trouble?

  I think so. I can’t remember his name.

  Never mind. I think I found Mr Lard Ass. Dylan trailed the man to see what he was up to. When he stopped at the office door, she was sure she had her man. He rattled the door handle and let out an expletive when it didn’t open. He reached into his pocket, drew out a square of something stiff, like cardboard, and ran it down the crack of the door. He jiggled it around the lock but without success, so Dylan assisted by unlocking it from the inside. She returned to his side just in time to see his look of glee. It was more a look of demonic bliss and it could only mean he was up to no good.

  Stay here, she said to Rhea.

  I don’t want to get into trouble.

  No one can see us, dummy, and that includes Priory and Jacey.