Die Job by Lila Dare

Author:Lila Dare
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Penguin Group, Inc.
Published: 2012-01-02T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

I ARRIVED BACK AT MOM’s TO FIND FRED WILKERSON, Mom’s handyman, nailing plywood over the salon windows. Mom was starting to take Horatio seriously.

“Hi, Fred,” I greeted him.

“Gonna be a big blow,” he said, shaking his grizzled head. At least seventy, he wore denim overalls and work boots. A patch of stubbly white whiskers sprouted from his jaw where his razor had missed a spot. “I saw this morning that most of the boats have moved out of the marina.”

Leaving him to his work—whack, whack, whack went the hammer—I entered the salon. With some of the windows boarded up, it felt like a dim cave. “Are we closed?” I asked Mom, who was rearranging the bottles and tubes of Althea’s Organic Skin Care Solutions. The weather report played without sound on the television behind her. The swirly mass of clouds had moved closer to Georgia.

“No.”

“But we might as well be,” Althea said, emerging from the bathroom, “for all the business we’ve had this morning. You might want Fred to have a look at the toilet while he’s here, Vi; I had to jiggle the handle again. Why are you limping?” She stared at my foot.

“Didn’t Mom tell you about my adventure this morning?” I didn’t want to talk about the Lindsay incident, so it was easier to let her think I’d twisted my ankle in the sea.

“Yes, she did, and let me tell you, baby-girl, that was the stupidest damn thing you’ve ever done. And also one of the bravest.” Concern and pride warred on her handsome cocoa face. “Why, you don’t swim much better than a cat.”

“Thanks,” I said drily, helping myself to a diet A&W from the mini fridge.

“Facts is facts,” she observed. “I’ve never been one to mince words.”

Mom and I laughed.

“What?” Althea gave us a mock glare.

The door swung open and I glanced over, thinking it was Fred, but a stranger stood on the threshold. Almost six feet tall, she had glossy black hair that draped from a side part, almost obscuring one eye, and fell to mid-back. Pale skin, pale blue eyes, and lush lips made a dramatic contrast with her hair. Designer jeans and boots emphasized long legs. She’d wrapped a spangly silver scarf twice around her neck and the ends dangled to her waist.

“Hello.” Her voice was warm and throaty. “I’m looking for Grace Terhune.”

“That’s me,” I said, setting my soda on the counter.

“That’s Avaline,” Althea suddenly said. “Avaline van Tassel.”

“Who?”

Mom and I looked from Althea to the newcomer. She clapped her hands together and I saw she was wearing at least one ring on every finger. Blue, red, and green stones—surely they couldn’t be real gems?—twinkled even in the low light. “That’s right. How lovely of you to recognize me. Are you a fan of the show?”

“What show?” Mom asked.

“She’s the spirit whisperer,” Althea said. “And, no,” she answered the woman’s question. “I wouldn’t say I’m a fan. I don’t believe in that nonsense . . . talking to spirits and all.” She jutted her chin out in her characteristic way.

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