Free Spirit Page 7

“You broke into a church?” Things were getting serious.

  “I did no such thing. It was Sunday. The front door was open and I asked God for some water.”

  “Where was the minister?”

  “Busy somewhere. I couldn’t wait.”

  “But Ms McAllister … Priory … this is getting way out of hand. It could get dangerous.”

  “Of course there’s some danger in getting something you want.”

  “Speaking of hand, how did you get the water back here?”

  “I’m not completely stupid, you know. I took a sugar bowl with me.”

  “A … sugar … bowl.”

  “What’s so strange about that?” she said indignantly.

  Jacey would have used something more sensible like a mug, but she wasn’t going to argue with a woman teetering on the edge of insanity. “Nothing … nothing at all.”

  “I think you’re making fun of me.”

  “Take a look….” Jacey found the picture she’d just taken and passed the cell over to Priory.

  “Oh.”

  “How about a coffee?”

  “Hang on.” Priory reached for the knife but stopped mid-motion. The chicken stood up on the plate, resting precariously on the ends of its drumsticks. It stayed that way for a moment before turning around and walking across the floor toward the kitchen, dripping its juices onto the carpet.

  The chicken stopped, backtracked to the plate, and grabbed the knife from Priory’s hand. It slipped the implement under its naked wing and walked off in disgust.

  “Veerrrry funny,” Priory yelled. “You want a piece of me, huh? Well I can take on you and your lousy chicken with one hand tied behind my back.”

  “Don’t tempt fate,” Jacey muttered. An image of a wrestling match appeared in her fertile brain: Priory, with one arm literally tied behind her back, valiantly fighting a plucked, headless chicken which slapped her in the face with its juicy wings and stomped on her chest with its drumsticks. The ghosts were nowhere to be seen in this little scenario, but Jacey suspected they’d be inside the chicken directing the fight.

  “You’re pushing your luck!” Priory was in a full-fledged hysterical rant and showed no signs of slowing down.

  Jacey left her screaming at the ceiling and sat on the bottom step of the staircase. “Oh boy.” What was she going to do? Would Priory be mentally fit enough for work on Monday? Judging by the present situation, she’d have to say no, so how far was she prepared to help her? She didn’t owe the woman anything, so she could do nothing and let Priory sort out her own problems. But…. It was the “but” that scared her in more ways than one. Jacey smiled. But … butt … it was the source of all her anxiety.

  Chapter Nine

  Jacey felt the chill before she saw the distortion of the air next to her. “Hey,” she said quietly.

  “Hello.” The voice was sweet and melodic and belonged to a heavenly apparition.

  The figure was a lovely young woman in her mid-twenties, of average height and with a cute pixie-like face. She was dressed in a slim beige woolen skirt that hugged her hips before gracefully streaming down to her mid-calf. Her short-sleeved shirt was a deep red with a sailor collar edged in white and tucked into the wide waistband of her skirt. Her low-heeled cream shoes with a dainty strap held delicate feet covered in those rayon stockings with, Jacey assumed, the seam up the back like Jacey always saw in the movies. Finally, her blond hair was gathered at her nape by a clasp, the riot of curls flaring out to touch her shoulders. This petite ghost looked very much a thirties woman.

  However, her much-taller-than-she-was counterpart who stood beside her was dressed … as a man. She was a very striking woman at that … with collar-length dark hair peeking out from under the sharp felt fedora perched rakishly on her head. Oh, there was little doubt that she was a woman. Besides her obvious female facial features, the woman was built like a brick shithouse. She wore a brown double-breasted suit with a wide burgundy tie visible between the lapels. The pinch-pleated pants hung loosely on her legs, as was the fashion of the day, with the wide cuffs touching her two-toned brown-and-white welts.

  Priory continued to yell at the ceiling. “Scared to face me, huh? I thought so!”

  “We … I didn’t mean for this to happen. Dylan is just doing what she thinks will protect me,” the petite ghost said.

  “Dylan?”

  The ghost almost blushed. “Yes. Dylan’s the … taller one. I’m Rhea.”

  It all felt a little surreal talking to a ghost. “How long have you been here?”

  “What year is it now?”

  “Two thousand and sixteen.”

  “Really? That long? Then about eighty years.”

  Jacey tried to do the mental arithmetic.

  “Nineteen thirty-five.”

  “Ahh. It’s unusual for both of you to be here together, isn’t it?” Jacey didn’t want to be insensitive. When she saw Rhea’s expression, she added, “Never mind. It’s obvious that it’s painful to talk about.”

  “No. I’m glad I’m not alone in this house. I suppose it’s the fact that our passing wasn’t even noticed.”

  “How did you…?”

  “Die?” Jacey watched Rhea think about the word. “We were both … strangled. Our bones are in the wall in the attic.”

  “How horrible.” Jacey’s words were inadequate. “Accident?” Somehow, she knew it wasn’t.

  “Accident? Sure,” Dylan said sarcastically. “And we boarded ourselves up in the wall afterwards.”

  Rhea stepped in. “We both worked for a mobster. Dylan was his driver and I was a singer. He told Dylan to woo me on his behalf, thinking she was a safe bet not to get involved with me. He found out and ‘eliminated the problem’. This was his grandmother’s house.”

  It was a heart-breaking tale, and a tear ran down Jacey’s cheek. A ghostly finger touched it and gently tried to brush it away.

  “Don’t cry,” Rhea whispered. “It’s a long time ago.”

  “But what could have been….”

  “We ended up with each other anyhow.”

  “But … but … you love each other and you can’t do anything about it.”

  “All this lovey-dovey stuff. I’m outta here.” Dylan faded out.

  A squawk came from the living room. “Ahhh, there you are. Think you’re so smart, huh?”

  Jacey looked at Rhea. “This is not going to work. You know that, right?”

  “Dylan can be a little….”

  “Stubborn?

  “Pigheaded.”

  “Priory’s the same. It’s not going to be pretty.” Jacey heard a bang come from the living room. “Let’s go referee this fight.”

  Jacey rose from the step and waited for Rhea to join her. They slowly made their way to what Jacey thought would be carnage. Priory and Dylan pranced around in a pugilistic pose, circling each other without throwing a punch. Not that it would do Priory any good, but she was valiantly defending her territory.

  The whole situation seemed ridiculous. Priory’s smudged lipstick now also covered her nose and forehead. A low growl emerged from Priory, her lips curling into a snarl. Her boss never looked so cute and Jacey had never been more enamored.

  Dylan, on the other hand, had removed her coat and hat. Her pant suspenders made a wide deviation around her breasts, looping around the outside of the impressive mountainous region. Perfectly shaped dark eyebrows met in an angry V, and her brown eyes sparked with rage. Jacey could see why Rhea was infatuated with her partner.

  “Don’t fight it,” Rhea whispered into her ear.

  “Sorry?” Jacey blinked and the romantic moment was gone.

  “Lanie and I only had a few hours together. Don’t waste the time you have. You never know what the future holds for you.”

  Jacey continued to watch Priory hopping around like some demented peacock, the pink feathers in her hair slowly falling out and floating to the floor. The buttons on her shirt started to pop, zinging across the room at warp speed
, and Jacey got an eyeful of Priory’s bra. Her smile widened as the costume slowly fell apart. If she waited long enough she’d get to see it all, including Priory’s elusive ass.

  “Why aren’t you stopping this?”

  “Well … look.” Jacey inclined her head toward the fight. Another button flew across the room and landed on the sofa. Jacey glanced sideways to see Rhea’s disapproving expression. “Fine.” Jacey took a step forward but stayed clear of the supposed fight happening in the center of the room.

  “Okay, girls. I’m calling time.”

  “Stay out of this, Ryder,” Priory growled. “This is my place and no … no…”

  “Ghost?” Jacey supplied.

  “…buttinsky is going to take over the place. That’s my job!”

  There was that word again. Butt. It was as if Priory could read her mind. “And what are you going to hit? Thin air.”

  “So? She started it.”

  “Rhee, this is the best fun I’ve had in years. I’m nearly tempted to keep her.”

  “Keep … me…?” Priory enunciated each word carefully. Jacey could feel the temperature of the room rising.

  “Dylan, please,” Jacey begged.

  “She’s right, Lanie. This has to stop.” Rhea said quietly.

  Dylan dropped her hands and backed away.

  Jacey was amazed that all it took to tame the restless spirit was a few words from Rhea. She watched Dylan give Rhea a loving look. It was then she realized that this was true love; a love that had overcome death and lived on. Rhea’s words repeated in her mind: “Don’t fight it.”

  Finally.

  You got that, sister.

  The girls in her head had been suspiciously quiet for a while, so now they decided to add their own opinions.

  You can be an idiot sometimes.

  “Stop it,” Jacey muttered to herself.

  “I heard you.” Priory was still worked up, but at least the fists were unclenched. “What are we going to do about this? I don’t want these … things … hanging over my shoulder twenty-four-seven.”

  “‘Things’? Did she just say things?” Dylan’s shape grew and darkened, casting a large, menacing shadow over Priory. “Listen here, buddy…,” Dylan announced ominously, “I’ve been playing nice up to now; don’t push it.”

  Dylan’s booming voice made her ears itch, and Jacey resorted to poking her fingers in them. “This isn’t solving anything.”

  Both combatants spoke simultaneously. “It’s my house.”

  “We were here first.”

  “True. But aren’t both points of view equally valid?” Jacey asked.

  Dylan floated over to Rhea’s side. “What did she say?”

  “You’re both right,” Rhea supplied. “I can’t say that this is Priory’s house because that would mean we have to move. We have nowhere else to go, except be laid to rest. I don’t know if I can stand leaving Lanie for eternity.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about evicting them!” Jacey said to Priory. “You must have a heart somewhere in that chest of yours.”

  Priory blinked.

  Oh crap. She had hurt her feelings. Jacey stumbled over her next words. “No! I mean … come on … you wouldn’t … you can’t…. Shit!” She left the room and took refuge in the upstairs bathroom.

  “Shit! Shit! Shit!” she hissed as she sat on the toilet seat. “You’ve put your foot in it now.” She had sabotaged any chance she had of a romantic interlude.

  The toilet started to make noises. Dribble, dribble, pop, pop.

  “Oh, we finally met the ghosts, and Priory was thinking about kicking them out.” Jacey let her head drop.

  The toilet leaked quickly. Gurgle, plop, grind, gurgle.

  “I know she can’t do that!” Jacey snapped. “And I told her so in a not-very-tactful way. She hates me now.”

  Dribble, dribble, dribble, gurgle.

  “Yes, she does. I saw it in her eyes.”

  The toilet went on a wild tirade, leaking water into the bowl with a titanic swish. Whoosh … whoosh. The water hit the lid with some force and made Jacey leap to her feet.

  “Hey! What’s your problem? I’m trying to save their butts.”

  There was a pounding on the door. “What’s going on in there?”

  It was Priory. There was no way out, but the toilet was right. Jacey had to face her demons … and Priory. She flung open the door.

  “What was all that noise?”

  “The toilet’s acting up.”

  Priory frowned. “Guess I’ll have to call the plumbers tomorrow.”

  Jacey looked at her feet. “Look, errr, I didn’t mean what I said, okay? I don’t want to see them just fade away. They love each other, and if you bury them, they’ll never see each other again.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “No, I don’t, but do you want to take that chance? I sure don’t.” Jacey stepped past Priory into the hallway. “Do you?” But she knew it wasn’t her decision to make. It was Priory’s.

  “I’ve just about had it from those two.”

  “Maybe now is not a good time to make that decision.”

  “Maybe, but they just keep pushing.”

  “What set off the voodoo ceremony?”

  “I was making the bed in the spare bedroom. The sheets had holes in them where they’d cut the eyeholes. It was the last straw. All I want is my house back. Can’t you see that, Jace? I just want my house and nothing else.”

  “Nothing?” Jacey was upset. Her boss had played a good game, but now the truth was out. Any romance was for the chase, not the love. “I’ll stay out of your way, then.” She descended the stairs, not once looking back, and walked through the house to the kitchen. The coffee pot shook in her hand as she filled it. All she had to do was get through the night, and things could get back to normal.

  †

  Priory took in the stiff posture of her assistant as she walked away. When Jacey was out of earshot, she muttered, “What did I do?”

  The toilet made a comment.

  “I what? I did not say I didn’t want her.” Priory reviewed the conversation in her mind. “All I said was that I wanted my house back and no … thing … else. Oh shit! That’s not what I meant!”

  Glub, glub, glub.

  “I’m not too late, am I?”

  Tinkle, squirt, drip, drip.

  Priory walked over to the mirror to gaze at herself. “Oh crap! You didn’t tell me I looked like that!” She plucked the two remaining courageous feathers from her hair and threw them to the floor. She filled the basin with hot water and plunged a washer into it, lathering it with soap.

  Slowly and methodically, she removed the lipstick that had somehow encased her entire face. When did that happen? Considering all that occurred during the ceremony, the lipstick was just a minor inconvenience. Walking, dead, plucked chickens, voodoo toilet-roll dolls, and a fistfight with a ghost had her entire attention. If she told her shrink about that she’d be in a straitjacket before she could say, “The toilet made me do it”.

  When she arrived in the kitchen, Jacey was seated at the table, her hands wrapped around a coffee mug. Jacey regarded her with a wistful look, something akin to sadness.

  “You okay?” Priory asked.

  Jacey shrugged.

  “Look, I’m sorry about that. It came out all wrong. Of course, you were included in that statement.”

  Jacey didn’t look convinced. Priory wandered over to the coffee maker and poured herself a drink. She swiveled around and leaned against the countertop. “We’re not starting out on the right foot, are we?”

  “No,” Jacey said with conviction.

  Priory could see this would now be an uphill battle. Any progress she had made so far was quickly eroding. “Can we at least call a truce?”

  “Maybe I should think about heading home. After all, it’s work tomorrow.”

  “Do you have to?”

  “I don’t have to, but I think it’s wise.
”

  “Since when have I ever been wise?” Priory gave her a half-smile, one side of her lips rising in an adoring curve. Jacey laughed. “That’s better. I don’t like seeing you sad, Jace.”

  “I really should go home. I have some housework that has been put off and….”

  Priory put down her mug and crossed the floor while Jacey spoke. She grabbed Jacey’s shoulders and pulled her to her feet, then planted her lips on her before Jacey could list all the reasons not to stay.

  As Jacey’s knees started to buckle, Priory pulled away. “Err. Ahh. Oh.” She was babbling like an idiot.

  Jacey was speechless. She remained still with her eyes closed. That was the most beautifully sweet kiss she had ever had. Even her girls had voluntarily shut up.

  O.M.G.

  Her mental checklist shifted Priory’s ass down to number two, the gold stars now shining brightly around the new number one in Priory’s pro column. That was not to say the ass was gone. It just had stiff competition from number one, and she was more likely to experience the newly ascended kiss than the ever-elusive ass.

  If you could plaster your lips on her ass, you could have the best of both worlds.

  Well obviously, but short of a lip transplant, it ain’t gonna happen.

  A girl can dream, can’t she?

  Yeah, but stop dreaming for the rest of us.

  Jacey shook her head. Her girls were dredging up a ridiculous image of a butt with lips. She opened her eyes and looked at Priory’s concerned gaze.

  “You okay?” Priory whispered.

  “Yeah. Fine.” She smiled shyly. “That was … Um….”

  “Wow?” Priory said wistfully.

  “Yeah,” Jacey drawled.

  Priory chuckled and pulled Jacey in for another. This time her lips made firmer contact and to Jacey it was heaven. She couldn’t stop her hands from wandering, and before she knew it, they were entangled in Priory’s hair. The kiss continued for some time, neither diminishing in intensity or enthusiasm. All thought of staying strong quickly faded and Jacey resigned herself to complications at work. She was lost and she knew it.

  When they finished, Jacey murmured, “You know this is a bad idea. Right?”

  “Yeah, but I’d rather cut off my right arm than stop.” Priory reached for her hand. “You can say stop, Jace. I hope to God you don’t, but I won’t push it if you don’t want it.” The words grated, they both knew it, but Jacey knew that Priory didn’t want her to go into this without reassuring her. All it would take would be one word.