Mischief in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #2)(11)

Sabine took a firm hold on the dress, right at the zipper, and yanked as hard as she could, ripping the dress in two. “As long as your fashion quest doesn’t include this dress, I think we’ll be okay. I don’t think I ever want to see this again.” She tossed the dress in a box of rags next to the back door, and the light in the room dimmed. She took another look at the broken window. “Oh, no. Here comes the rain, and we left the window open upstairs.”

“You go get the window,” Maryse said. “I’ll get the rest of the boxes out of the line of fire.”

Sabine hurried up the stairs and into the already darkening attic. She felt the wall for the light switch, certain they’d left the light on when they’d gone after Helena. She found the switch and flipped it up and down. Nothing. Great. “Maryse,” she yelled down the stairwell. “Can you bring me the flashlight from the storeroom, please?”

“No problem. Be there in a minute,” Maryse yelled back.

Sabine inched into the room and started shuffling toward the tiny stream of light coming in the open window. She’d made it halfway across the room when lightning flashed across the sky and through the open window, striking a metal rack against the wall. Sparks flew from the rack as the sound of thunder exploded around her. Sabine lurched backward and tumbled over something big. The large object rolled with her and they both crashed to the floor, Sabine’s head banging against the hardwood planks.

Sabine had no idea how long she’d been out when she felt heat on her face. Opening one watery eye just a bit, she saw a single beam of light that seemed to stretch out infinitely in front of her. Oh my God. I’m dead. She clenched her eyes, squeezing the tears out, then opened the lids again.

And saw Helena Henry leaning over her, encased in the beam of light.

“I am dead!” Sabine cried.

“Oh, give it a rest,” Helena said. “You’re just as alive and strange as you were ten minutes ago.”

Sabine struggled to rise from the floor and felt a hand on her arm.

“Don’t move yet,” Maryse said. “You must have banged your head good. You were out completely.”

Sabine stared into the darkness behind the beam of light. It sounded like Maryse, but that couldn’t be if she was dead. Suddenly the attic light flickered on and a dim glow filled the room. Sabine blinked twice and looked up at Maryse’s worried face. Relief washed over her and she laid her head back down, hoping the dizziness would pass soon.

“I thought I was dead,” Sabine said. “The flashlight looked like a hallway…you know like those stories you hear from those people who died, then returned. And then I saw Helena. Jeez, I must have banged my head hard.”

Maryse peered down at Sabine and bit her lip. “You saw Helena?”

“Yeah, but I must have imagined it, right?”

Maryse motioned behind her and a couple of seconds later, Helena Henry stood right next to Maryse, peering down at her.

“Oh, no,” Sabine said. “It wasn’t my imagination. I see her…but what the heck is she wearing?” The hair was the same, all poufy and gray, and the streetwalker makeup looked just as it had in the coffin. Unfortunately, Helena’s outfit matched the makeup. The leather bodysuit, complete with cone bra, stretched in directions it wasn’t intended to, straining to hold in all of Helena. It was a partial success.

Maryse grimaced. “Helena’s going through an unfortunate rebellious phase in her fashion journey through the ages.”

Sabine blinked again and stared at the ghost. “What year did we all dress like hookers?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake!” Helena bitched. “I am not dressed like a hooker. Didn’t you people ever watch MTV? I’m wearing a Madonna outfit.”

“From the nineties, maybe, but that’s questionable,” Sabine said and rose to a sitting position.

“I’m working my way through the generations.” Helena crossed her arms and glared.

Sabine looked over at Maryse. “Thank God I missed hair bands of the eighties.”

“The seventies weren’t any better.” Maryse leaned in a bit and whispered, “Cher.”

Sabine rubbed her temples and groaned.

Maryse placed her hand on Sabine’s arm. “Do you think you can get up? We still need to call the police, and I’ll bet you’d like an aspirin about now.”

Sabine moved her head from side to side. “I think so. I don’t feel dizzy, anyway.”

Maryse offered her hand and helped pull Sabine into a standing position. She felt a rush of blood into her head and pressed at her temples. “An aspirin is sounding better and better.” She looked over at Helena and blinked. The cone bra was starting to blur. She stared harder but the ghost began to slowly fade away, until nothing was left at all.

“She’s gone,” Sabine said.

“Who’s gone?” Maryse asked. “Helena’s standing right here.”

Sabine clenched her eyes shut for a moment, then looked again. Nothing. “I can’t see her anymore. What does that mean?”

Maryse slowly shook her head. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it. Let’s get out of here.”

Sabine stepped forward and looked down at the trunk that had caused her fall. It was flipped over backward, the contents spilled out onto the floor. “Guess that was one way to get that thing opened.”