Strange Neighbors (22 page)

   "No, of course not. Just the fact that you think I'm

doing it." She elbowed him.

   Sly grabbed her elbow faster than she could blink and his expression changed. His posture straightened and his eyes darkened. Suddenly, she didn't feel safe—at all.

   He leaned toward her and held her stare as he whispered. "I suggest you leave, immediately. There's nothing and no one in that building that concerns you."

   "Okay," she replied in a high voice that cracked. Then she turned tail and dashed for the nearest subway.

   After running two blocks, she slowed. Why should she be afraid and suddenly leave? She had never been intimidated into deserting a stakeout when tracking down a story before. Hell, she wasn't afraid of anyone or anything!

   Something was definitely weird there, though… not just the building, but also the fact that it came with a sly guy who seemed determined to protect it or its residents, or both.

   "I need a drink," she muttered out loud. Then she trotted to the subway that would bring her to her favorite watering hole. Maybe she could make nice with Kevin, too. Having about one friend, total, made her all alone in the world if she lost him.

   Somehow, she thought he'd forgive her. She knew he liked her—and not just as a good customer. He let little tells slip. Things no one else would notice. His pupils grew larger when he looked at her. He couldn't help giving her a smile from across the crowded bar every once in a while, even if he was busy with other customers.

   Oh, yeah. He liked her all right. Maybe it was time to explore that a little more. She had never been one to trade sexual favors for anything, but her liquor bill seemed to be growing out of control. That didn't mean her drinking was out of control. Not at all. Just that she either had to settle for cheaper dives or wait until she sped home to drink.

Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

CHAD FLOATED ABOVE MORGAINE AS SHE SAT AT HER desk, swiveling back and forth in her chair. She'd promised to help him communicate with the private detective—on paper. It was easier.

   "So I'm supposed to make a list of all possible enemies, no matter how small the insult or how insignificant the damage might seem to me."

   "Make a list of everyone you ever pissed off. Anyone who might have a bone to pick with you, no matter how ridiculous it may seem."

   "That's what the detective said. I know. It seems strange, since I gave him the best lead I had already. Somehow, I don't think my dry cleaner did it."

   "So I guess your dry cleaner goes on the list?" Morgaine picked up her pencil and asked, "What's his name?"

   "Wong. Dwight Wong."

   "You're kidding."

   "No. I made a joke about his name and voila… he's on the list."

   She chuckled, but wrote it down.

   "Morgaine, you're a good kid. Funny, I call you a kid even though I was about your age when I was bumped off. But as far as company goes, you're pretty good. Emphasis on the 'pretty.' I don't know why you choose to scare off guys with your harsh, gothic look or share your king-sized bed with your cousin instead of some handsome dude. I know you're not lesbians. Believe me, I've been waiting and hoping."

   Morgaine laughed. "Okay, so who else did you piss off?"

   Chad pondered for a minute. "Everybody."

   "Everybody? Come on, you couldn't have offended everybody."

   "Hey, after all this time together you know me, right? And you doubt it?"

   Morgaine shrugged. "I suppose I should put myself on this list, then."

   "You didn't know me back in the sixties, babe. Hell, you weren't even born yet. We're only talking about those folks I pissed off while I was alive—to get a list of suspects."

   "And he's going to chase down every one of these leads? Even Dwight Wong?"

   "I guess he wants to wight my wong."

   Morgaine rolled her eyes. "Okay. I believe you. You pissed off everybody."

   Gwyneth breezed in from the kitchen. "Would y'all mind sayin' annoyed instead of pissed-off?"

   "Why?"

   "That expression annoys me."

   "You mean it pisses you off?"

   "No, I mean it annoys me."

   Morgaine dropped her pencil. "You heard him, Gwyneth?"

   Gwyneth stood up straight. "I did! Jeezum crow, I heard the ghost."

   Her cousin jumped up and hugged her. "I knew you could do it. All you needed was to awaken the psychic within."

   "Oh, great. Now I have to watch my language in front of Ms. Southern Belle?" Chad grumbled.

   "If you don't mind," Gwyneth said, politely.

   "Give me a break, Belle. I'm dead and I'm pissed off about it. What are you going to do if I curse? Slap me across the face?"

   She crossed her arms and pouted.

   Morgaine patted her on the shoulder. "You'll get used to him. I did."

   "I suppose."

   "Now, where were we?"

   "We were about to write everyone's name—at least everyone you knew in the sixties—on this list." Morgaine picked up the pencil again and said, "So, go ahead. Name everyone you knew."

   "Fuck that. Look, I'll give you a couple of ex- girlfriends and everyone I owed money to. I can't remember the names of every cabbie and waitress I stiffed."

   "Fire away."

   "Arlene Lynch, Madam Kowalski…"

   "Madam?"

   "Not that kind of madam. A psychic, like yourself."

   "How did you piss… I mean, annoy a psychic?"

   "Easy. I told her she was a fraud. That no one could talk to the dead and her whole psychic act was bunk."

   Gwyneth and Morgaine looked at each other and raised their eyebrows.

   "Okay, okay. So I made a mistake. One of us had to be wrong. Just like people who believe in heaven and hell. The believers are gonna feel so faked out if they end up like me."

   A knock at the door interrupted the task at hand.

   Gwyneth answered it.

   Merry stood there with damp hair, wearing exactly what she was wearing last night.

   "Ah, the good ol' walk of shame." Chad smirked and floated toward the ceiling.

   "Merry. Nice to see you. Would you like to come in and set a spell?"

   "Yup. Nothing out of the ordinary here. Just a friend coming by to say 'Howdy.' Southern manners…"

   Gwyneth looked up. "What about Southern manners?"

   "They're not much different than WASPy Boston manners. If there's an elephant in the living room, you suddenly become deaf, dumb, and blind."

   "Elephant? What are you talkin' about? And by the way, I ain't dumb."

   Merry gave her a sidelong glance and looked as though she was reconsidering Gwyneth's hospitality. "Are you talking to Chad?"

   She brightened. "Yes! Isn't it excitin'? I just discovered I could."

   "Thrilling. Yawn. Learn to swear without the phone in your hand, and then we'll talk."

   "Oh, hush, you." She did a quick double take at Merry's wrinkled brow. "Oh! Not you, hon. Please, come in. I'll just have to ignore him."

   "That's what I have to do most of the time," Morgaine said as she left her desk and strolled over to the women at the door. "Otherwise people would think I was yelling at them."

"Is he that bad?" Merry asked.

   Morgaine shrugged. "Not really. He's just a little sarcastic. Come on in. Sit down. Let me get you something to drink. Do you like tea?"

   "Sure. But you don't need to go to any trouble. I was just wondering…" She took a seat on their flowered couch. Gwyneth sat next to her and Morgaine retreated to the kitchen.

   "What is it, hon?" Gwyneth asked.

   "You sound like you're talking to a six-year old, Belle."

   Gwyneth cringed, but ignored him.

   "I was wondering if you guys could tell fortunes? You know, like read palms or tea leaves or something?"

   "Oh, yes. We both read palms. Morgaine reads tarot and tea leaves. I'm still learnin' the meanin's of all the symbols."

   "That must be fascinating!"

   "Oh, it is."

   Morgaine called out from the kitchen, "Do you want us to read your tea leaves, Merry? I'm already making the tea and it would be a good chance for Gwyneth to practice."

   "Really? I'd love that!"

   Gwyneth winked. "I bet y'all want to know if a certain tall, handsome baseball player loves you."

   "Oh, no. I know he does." She smiled, sounding confident.

   "Can't you tell by the goofy grins on their faces every time they're together?"

   "Well, you'd better be careful, anyway." Morgaine called. "I've heard he's a heartbreaker."

   Merry cleared her throat. "Actually, I stopped by hoping we could schedule a date night? Since he doesn't like going out in public, I thought getting our fortunes told might be a cool thing to do right here in our own building. I'll pay you, of course."

   "Since I'm just learnin', I wouldn't feel right acceptin' y'all's money. Even though I'm so poor I can barely pay attention." She laughed. "Y'all can pay Morgaine, if she wants."

   "You bet your badonkadonk I want to be paid for it," came Morgaine's voice.

   Gwyneth giggled. "We're a little poor now that we've lost our customers who wanted noisy phone sex. But I won't charge y'all until I'm more confident."

   "Cool. Maybe Morgaine can read one of us and you can read the other?"

   "Okay. I think we can do that. But, for today, do you have a particular question you want answered? We usually start by havin' you make a wish, and then we try to say if it's gonna come true."

   "Yeah, there's something kind of bothering me. When I was in high school I had my fortune told by a psychic who said that someone was talking trash behind my back. And it was true. I'm kind of wondering if someone's been hanging around, spying on me and Jason."

   "Spyin'?"

   The tea kettle whistled.

   "Well, yeah—for lack of a better word."

   "I do declare! I'd rather jump barefoot off a six-foot step ladder into a five-gallon bucket full of porcupines than see anything bad happen to you."

   "I don't think that's necessary, but the situation scares me a little."

   Morgaine rounded the corner with a tray loaded with teacups, cookies, and a steaming tea pot. "You're not talking about Sly, are you? Because we know he won't hurt you. He looks scary and he hangs around here a lot, but he's a pussycat."

   That brought a guffaw from Chad. "Interesting description. A pussycat who laps up blood instead of milk."

   Gwyneth stuck her hand on her hip and stared at the ceiling. "Chad, are you still here?"

   "Yup."

   "Well, go away."

   "Make me."

   She rolled her eyes and looked defeated, mumbling, "Just remember that an arrogant bug is a cocky roach."

   Morgaine shook her head and sat beside Gwyneth. "Chad, will you at least be quiet so Gwyneth can concentrate on Merry's reading?"

   "I suppose…" Chad conceded with a sigh.

   Hoo. Hoo.

   "You too, Athena."

   Merry glanced around. "Who's that?"

   "Just our pet owl, honey," Gwyneth said.

   Morgaine wiggled to get comfortable. "Okay, I think we're good to go. Merry, drink your tea while thinking of your wish. You'll need to imbue it with your thought energy."

   As Merry sipped, Morgaine clued Gwyneth in on things to look for that would indicate a covert situation or someone operating behind the scenes unbeknownst to them.

   "The Ace of Spades pointing up, a bat, a bee, a duck… Of course, you have to see if it's in close proximity to another symbol. There may be something positive to neutralize the negative or there may be bigger clues to indicate real danger like a knife or crossed bones."

   Gwyneth nodded. "Okay, but if I forget, I'd better ask twice than lose my way once."

   "How do you know all this stuff, Morgaine?" Merry asked and blew on her tea to take another hot sip.

   Morgaine and Gwyneth looked at each other, some sort of communication passing between them. At last Morgaine said, "I think she can be trusted, don't you?"

   Gwyneth nodded. "If she can accept the existence of a ghost in her midst, she can probably accept a couple o' witches."

   Merry's eyes rounded. "Witches?"

   Gwyneth reached over and patted Merry's knee. "Oh, don't worry, darlin'. We're the good kind."

   "Actually," Morgaine continued, "we're what's called hereditary witches. Our grandmother was that odd woman who lived in the woods at the edge of town, cultivating herbs and making healing potions for anyone who came to her for help. Some didn't trust her and their kids gave our mothers a hard time in school, saying they were Devil worshipers and things like that. Nothing could be further from the truth."

   "Oh. Is that why you moved up here?"

   "Well, that, and I attended college here. I wanted to study herbal medicine. The money ran out long before I got to graduate. Still, I learned why Granny's medicine worked so well."

   "But you decided to stay."

   "Yes. I liked it. Summers aren't so sweltering hot. Gwyneth moved up here to help me pay the bills, and we decided to concentrate on Wicca. There's no degree needed, just dedication, study, and practice. Plus, healing with herbs and magic doubles a practitioner's chance of success."