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  Chapter Seven

  Jacey walked into the kitchen and headed for the refrigerator. She opened it, looking in hope for a bottle of wine. While she was normally a white drinker, anything at this point would be helpful. In the door was an opened bottle of Riesling, and she grabbed it with a tight fist while her other hand collected a wineglass sitting on the tabletop. She was already heading for the back door by the time Priory caught up.

  “Look, I’m sorry this happened….”

  Jacey held up the hand with the glass. “Don’t….” She stepped out onto the back lawn and let out a deep breath. A moment later, Priory emerged with glass in hand.

  Jacey poured the wine into the two glasses. “What are you going to do?”

  “What can I do?”

  “It’s not like they’re your relatives and you can just kick them out.” Jacey drank the glass of wine in a few gulps. It made her a little light-headed, but she decided that was her objective—to put a wall of fuzziness between herself and the world.

  “True, but Aunt Cloisteria wouldn’t go quietly.”

  “Cloisteria? What is it with your family? Is there a bunch of nuns in your past?”

  “Something like that. Any more of them and we’d be extinct.”

  As if dealing with actual ghosts wasn’t hard enough, now her boss was claiming to be a long-lost relative of anyone associated with the church, from Joan of Arc to Mother Teresa. Jacey filled her glass once more and steadily worked her way through the second serving of alcohol. She looked up at the house in … what? Terror? Maybe. Apprehension? Definitely. Concern? No doubt there. For a second she giggled. This was an even more delicious punishment for her boss than getting sick.

  Jacey looked at Priory and studied her face. What was she thinking?

  “What?”

  “Wishing you had never bought this place?”

  Priory looked at the house. “So that’s why it was so cheap.” She certainly didn’t seem to be in the grip of hysteria. Delusional maybe, but not a full-fledged, screaming-from-the-house panic.

  “It also explains why you were locked out of the house. What are you going to do?”

  “Don’t know.” Priory took a healthy swallow of the wine. She looked at the glass. “Should have grabbed the scotch on the way out.”

  Jacey found a dilapidated bench against the side fence and sat. Priory quickly joined her. They stayed there in silence for a minute.

  “Hell of a long day, huh?” Priory said.

  That was an understatement. “You don’t think we imagined it, do you? A shared delusion born from exhaustion?” Even to her own ears, the explanation was weak as water.

  “Everyone in the neighborhood knew about it. I wonder why no one has bulldozed it to the ground.”

  “Money speaks louder than fear.” Jacey twirled the glass in her hand. “I have to admit that when I heard it was haunted, I never really thought it was haunted. It was just some scam.”

  “Actually, labelling a house as ‘haunted’ reduces its value greatly. People just don’t want the stigma.”

  Jacey shrugged. “I suppose it’s too late to label it as anything else now, what with the kids screaming, ‘It’s haunted’.”

  “They seem rather shy.”

  “The kids? I don’t think so.”

  “No … them. They’ve been pretty sedate, really. A slamming door, flashing light, and pretending to be trick-or-treaters for a few measly candies.”

  Jacey looked up at the attic. “I don’t know if I want to go back in there.”

  Priory stood. “You know what? I don’t care. I’m so damned tired I’d sleep on the floor.”

  “Don’t say that,” Jacey whispered. “They might arrange it.” When Priory made a move toward the back door, Jacey intervened, “Are you crazy? You’re not going back in the house, are you?”

  “They haven’t killed me yet.”

  “Probably still working on that,” Jacey muttered. With a sigh of resignation she followed Priory into the unknown.

  They reached the bottom of the staircase. “Come on.” Priory held out her hand in invitation.

  “I think it would be better if I slept on the sofa.” Jacey stepped back and put some space between them.

  “I haven’t got the spare room set up yet, but I think the bed would be more comfortable than the sofa. Besides, if you get scared during the night….”

  “No, I think it’s better for both of us if I take the sofa.” Jacey backed off and walked to her bed for the night.

  “Okay. I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.”

  Jacey watched Priory climb the stairs, her boss apparently showing little sign of disappointment. She couldn’t stop a casual glance at the source of her erotic fantasy. Damned ass! A minute later Priory returned with her hands full.

  “Sure you don’t want to change your mind?” she said as she handed over the pillow and blanket.

  “Nope. I’ll be fine here.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Jacey watched Priory leave. That was too easy. She thought Priory would at least put up a fight. After all, she had said she was interested, and only Jacey’s resistance had stopped any kind of intimate connection. In a way she felt a little disappointed. No, not disappointed, but hurt, maybe, that Priory thought she wasn’t worth pursuing.

  Jacey slipped off her shoes and settled on the sofa. As her head hit the pillow, an angry yell came from the first floor. “I knew it,” she muttered. Priory wasn’t finished with her yet.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Goddammit!

  “What?” Jacey hadn’t moved from the sofa.

  “They short-sheeted my bed!”

  Despite the predicament, Jacey giggled. She snuggled into the blanket and closed her eyes. The unwelcome visitors were proving to be devilish adversaries for her boss, and it seemed her revenge would be worth waiting for.

  †

  You’re losing your touch, Rhee.

  Hmmm? Rhea looked out the attic window at the street.

  I’m bustin’ my chops tryin’ to kick ’em out, and you’re fannying around playin’ nice.

  Aren’t you tired of it, Lanie? I know I am.

  Nah. We’re just not tryin’ hard enough. All that stuff used to be enough to kick their keisters to the sidewalk. This one’s stubborn.

  Would it be so bad if she stayed?

  Would it be…? Are you nuts?? She’s trouble with a capital T.

  Not if she had a girlfriend.

  Girlfriend? Who would have her?

  Dylan, you are so blinded by your adversary that you haven’t noticed the other one. They like each other.

  Well my ad … ad … advertisement is such a pain in the ass I’m surprised the other one is still here.

  Maybe they need a hand.

  I’ve barely got my limbs attached now. Why would I give her a hand? You gotta think these things through, Rhee.

  I … you know what? Never mind.

  Heh, just wait till she finds out what we did to the other sheets.

  †

  A warm breeze crossed her cheek. Jacey stirred and brushed the air away. The warmth returned, then disappeared; returned and disappeared with rhythmic regularity. Jacey swatted the air and cracked open her eyes. Two inches from her face was Priory, gazing right at her with a sly smile. Jacey startled and rolled away, but Priory stopped her inches from the edge of the bed.

  “Whoa!” Priory said with some amusement. “Don’t go.”

  “Wha…. Who…. Where…? What are you doing?”

  “Well, as you’re in my bed, I suppose I should be the one asking that question.”

  Jacey finally took in her surroundings. “What the hell…?”

  “Oh, come on….” Priory tugged on Jacey’s arm, dragging her closer. “It could be worse. Besides….” Priory smiled seductively at her.

  “I didn’t do this.” Had she? Jacey certainly had no memory of doing so. Had she used the bathroom and accidentally taken a wrong turn into Prio
ry’s bedroom? That explanation sounded so lame, even to her.

  “Yeah … sure.”

  Jacey was in trouble. How could she get out of this without embarrassment or physical violence? “Excuse me.”

  “Whoa! Don’t go,” Priory repeated.

  “I gotta pee.” Those three little words held the power of Zeus. Priory let go and watched her exit the bedroom. Now that she had her freedom, she really did want to pee. Jacey slipped into the bathroom and closed the door. “Oh boy,” she muttered from her seated position.

  Luckily, she was still half-asleep, otherwise her girls would be wholeheartedly yelling at her to take the opportunity handed to her on a platter. The toilet dripped.

  “It won’t work out.”

  Gurgle. Glug, glug, glug. Drip.

  “Because one of us has to be thinking straight.”

  Jacey flushed the toilet and washed her face at the basin. She looked into the mirror and studied the slightly flustered woman looking back at her. “Nothing good will come of this.”

  The cistern filled up noisily.

  “How do I know? I just do.”

  Jacey exited the bathroom and stood in front of the bedroom door. She could walk away and face the consequences later, or she could face Priory and tell her no. What she feared most was that instead of no, yes would come out of her mouth before she could stop it. Jacey sighed and headed downstairs, resolving herself to a sleepless night.

  As she plopped down on the sofa, Jacey’s mind continued to wander. The house creaked as the timbers settled. Every little noise made her jump. By the time she had found a comfortable position to lie in, she was ready to run.

  Chapter Eight

  Priory listened to the front door slam from her cosy snuggle in her bed the next morning. Despite Jacey’s reluctance, she’d set off on her journey back to Priory’s apartment. Unfortunately for Jacey, the boxes she had chosen to bring back the previous day were not the ones she needed immediately. The remaining boxes back at her apartment held items Priory needed for work on Monday.

  Jacey wasn’t pleased, or so Priory thought. The range of fleeting emotions that crossed her assistant’s face was mixed—from relief to outright annoyance. Priory couldn’t tell which emotion was the more dominant, but if the slammed door was anything to go by she’d say Jacey was angry.

  Oh well.

  Priory looked at the ceiling and tried not to think about what she needed to do today. Somehow, she just couldn’t dredge up the energy to move, even though she knew she had to. “The house isn’t going to unpack itself. Then again….”

  What was she going to do about her unwelcome houseguests? It wasn’t like she could kick their asses to the sidewalk. And if she could do it, it would have far more permanent ramifications for the ghosts than merely a sore butt. Did she really want to kill them again? For the moment she put the idea in the “too hard” basket.

  Priory kicked back the comforter, then rested. “I’m done.” Her brow creased. “C’mon, get your ass in gear. Things to do.”

  “Yeah, you lazy bum.” A low voice seemed to float over her head.

  “Don’t start.” Priory flung an arm over her eyes.

  “You have it so easy. In my day—”

  “Get out of my bedroom!”

  “I’m not in your bedroom.”

  “You’re pushing your luck, Casper,” Priory ground out. If she needed any incentive to get out of bed, that was it. She stomped to the door, threw it open, and then continued to stomp over to the bathroom, where she slammed the door shut in anger. “I’m gonna kill her,” she muttered as her pajama pants slid down her legs.

  Gurgle, plop, gurple, glip.

  “Yeah, I know. Pointless.” She sat down and let her mind wander as her body did its business. A spray of water hit her and she jumped up. She looked into the bowl and another spray erupted. “Hey! What was that for?”

  The water sloshed from side to side.

  “Stop it, Casper.” It continued to rumble. “I said stop it! It’s not funny anymore!”

  “I’m not doing anything!” the voice whined.

  Another voice entered the conversation. “What is going on?”

  “That … that … troublemaker friend of yours has been screwing with the toilet. Enough is enough.” Priory looked around for some evidence of the ghosts, but there was none.

  “I’m telling ya, I haven’t done anything to the damned toilet! It’s the toilet demon,” the first voice said indignantly.

  “Toilet demon?” Priory cried. “You have got to be kidding.”

  “Dylan, honey, it’s time to stop. You’ve made your point.”

  “How many times do I have to say it, Rhea? I didn’t do anything,” the first voice said.

  Priory shot visual daggers at the wall.

  “I’m outta here,” the one called Dylan said.

  “I’m sorry, Priory. She’s got it in her head that we have to have an empty house.”

  “Yeah? Well tell her from me I’m not giving up without a fight!” The room went silent. “Toilet demons, my ass.”

  The toilet gurgled.

  “Shut up!”

  Priory went down the stairs with as much annoyance as she could. Since Jacey wasn’t there, she couldn’t complain to anyone but herself, and somehow that wasn’t enough. God must have been laughing her ass off at the delicious dilemma Priory was in.

  Priory made herself a coffee and slumped into a chair at the table. She grabbed her cell and flipped through her messages. Somehow, she found herself on a search engine and she typed in “ghost removal”. Dozens of responses appeared and one or two held the possibility of fixing her problem. It couldn’t hurt.

  Moving with more enthusiasm, Priory trotted upstairs and changed. Hopefully, what she had in mind would work and, with some luck, things would be back to normal before Jacey returned.

  †

  Jacey entered her boss’s house once more and was again greeted with silence. How come every time Jacey went somewhere, Priory used it as an excuse to stop working? At this rate they’d never get her moved in. Maybe that was part of the plan.

  She heard a faint rattling and became acutely aware of her surroundings. She was pretty sure the area didn’t have rattlesnakes, but it was dangerous to assume. Jacey crept further into the house, straining to hear another noise.

  There it was again. It seemed to be coming from the back of the house. Perhaps the kitchen? Jacey approached the room with some trepidation. What was she going to do? Mesmerize the serpent with a tap dance and a show tune?

  The kitchen proved to be empty, but the living room was more fruitful. Oh Lord! What a sight! Jacey couldn’t have been more surprised if Priory was lying there naked inviting Jacey to jump on her.

  But Priory wasn’t naked. She was very much overdressed, in fact. The first thing Jacey noted was the neon-pink feathers sticking out of her hair, some hanging precariously by their prickly points, which had caught on her upswept hairdo. The source of the feathers, a feather boa, was swept around her neck. Priory was hunched over what looked like a sacrificial altar, complete with candles, bowls, incense stick, and an uncooked, plucked chicken on a plate. In one hand she had a carving knife poised over the sacrifice while she shook a pink baby rattle violently with her other hand. Resting on the table were two cardboard toilet-paper rolls dressed up in white fabric. If she didn’t know better, Jacey would have thought it may have been two voodoo dolls.

  “What are you doing?” Jacey could hear the shock in her own voice even though she tried really hard to keep calm. The mental instability item highlighted on her mental checklist slipped easily past the puke-green and moved into a volatile red, pulsing angrily in defiance.

  “This is my house and no mangy, moth-eaten, two-bit has-beens are going to take it away from me!”

  “Do you mean the ghosts?”

  “Of course I mean the ghosts! Who do you think I’m talking about? The neighbor’s cat?”

  Jacey shook her head. “
Back to my original question: what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Are you blind or something? It’s a voodoo ceremony.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jacey took a step back.

  “Okay, I was a little short on some of the essentials, so I had to improvise.”

  “I can see that.” Priory looked so damned cute in her disheveled feathered hair and her tailored Clive-of-India Bombay trousers and tied-off shirt that Jacey couldn’t suppress a smile. Before she could change her mind, Jacey reached into her bag and took out her phone to take a photo.

  Do you really want a relationship with a woman whose cheese has completely slid off the cracker?

  Her girls made a valid point. What if the ghosts pushed Priory into complete insanity? Did she want to be the one forced to pick up the pieces?

  But look at her … not everyone can pull off a look like that.

  Shame about the lipstick. Do you think she realizes it’s supposed to go on her lips?

  Jacey prayed that her boss had just been in a hurry applying her makeup, not that she couldn’t color within the lines.

  “I thought it was supposed to be a live chicken,” Jacey said, and shuddered. She was glad Priory had made that particular compromise.

  “And where was I supposed to get one of those? I was lucky to find this one. I had to defrost it in the microwave.” Priory poked at it with the knife.

  “What about this?” Jacey picked up a few Scrabble tiles.

  “I didn’t have a Ouija board.” Jacey was now sure her boss’s internal Scrabble board was missing a few e’s and t’s … and the occasional a and s. She shook her head in dismay. Priory had some wild imagination.

  “What are you hoping to achieve?”

  “I’m trying to get them out of here. The holy water didn’t work, so this is Plan B.”

  “Holy water?” How long had she been away? Had she crossed into some other dimension, where she’d felt as though she had only been away for a few hours when it had, in fact, been a few days? “When did you have time for holy water?”

  “Just after you left. I had to, err, borrow some water from the local church.”