Mischief in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #2)(9)

Maryse looked up from an old steamer trunk that she was struggling to pull into the middle of the room. “Cool! I think they’d be thrilled.”

“Some of this material is fantastic, and so well-preserved. I might keep a couple myself and make something of them.”

Maryse nodded. “If anyone can make it wearable, you can. That pink would look good on you.” She pointed to a pretty calico dress.

Sabine held up the dress and studied the color. “I don’t know. This is the same color as that T-shirt I wore to that breast cancer walk in New Orleans last month. A picture of me, Mildred, and a couple others ended up in the newspaper and the shirt made me look all washed out.”

“None of you look good in the newspaper,” Helena said. “Look at that shot of Maryse the local paper had. Maryse looked like the running year of bad weather.”

“Well,” Maryse said, “the next time a ghost wakes you up in the dead of night because a man is crawling through your bedroom window to kill you, and you have to run down the street in your pajamas and bare feet, and you just miss dying by a half a second, then you can tell me how bad I look.”

“She’s got a point.” Sabine glanced over at the doorway, an idea forming in her mind. “Helena, are you planning on sticking around for a while?”

“Yeah, although the beauty shop is a hell of a lot more interesting than the two of you. Now, if Maryse would let me in her house when Luc was there…that would probably be something to see.”

“Not on your life,” Maryse said and glanced over at Sabine, who was holding up a large lime green dress with ruffles from top to bottom. “What’s with the gigantic ruffle thing?”

Sabine grinned. “I was thinking that Helena ought to wear it. Then I could see her. Or her clothes anyway.”

“Oh no,” Helena said. “I’ll wear a hat or something or a wristband, or even one of those cone bras like Madonna wore in that video, but I’m not wearing that monstrosity. No one over the age of four should ever wear ruffles, especially across their butt. And green? Jesus, I’d look like moving shrubbery.”

“I hate to admit it,” Maryse said and laughed, “but she’s right.”

“Probably so,” Sabine agreed, “but I’d still like to see it.”

“No way,” Helena said.

“You know,” Sabine said, “I could still work in that exorcism Maryse and I discussed before. You wouldn’t want me to sic the power of God on you, would you, Helena?” Sabine knew an exorcism wouldn’t do a thing to the ghost, but Helena still wasn’t sure.

“Fine,” Helena huffed. “Throw that damned thing toward the door.”

Sabine tossed the ruffled nightmare toward the doorway and grinned at Maryse as Helena grunted and complained while tugging.

“Are you happy now?” Helena asked.

Sabine took one look at the doorway, now totally eclipsed in a sea of jiggling green, and howled in laughter.

Maryse shook her head. “That is just wrong.”

Sabine wiped at her eyes, tears of laughter blurring her vision. “You ought to see it without Helena in it. Oh my God, that is just the funniest thing I have seen in forever.”

“That’s it,” Helena said. “I’m taking this thing off.”

And that’s when the sound of glass breaking downstairs made them all freeze.





[page]Chapter Three




Sabine froze, straining to hear any further noise from downstairs. She eased up beside Maryse, who was standing stock-still, her eyes as wide as an owl’s.

“What the hell,” Maryse whispered. “I thought the shop was locked.”

“It is,” Sabine said. “Do you have your cell phone? Mine’s downstairs.”

Maryse shook her head, her eyes wide. “I forgot it at home. Shit.”

“Oh hell,” Helena said. “I’ll go check it out. Not like anything can happen to me.” And with that, the green blob floated out the door and down the narrow attic staircase. Sabine peered after her, still not taking a breath.

There was dead silence for several seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Great. Just when Helena flapping her jaws would have been appreciated, she had to go silent. Sabine couldn’t take just standing there for another moment. She looked over at Maryse, who nodded. As quietly as possible, they began to creep down the stairs but didn’t make it two steps before the ancient staircase creaked, the noise seemingly amplified in the dead silence of the building.

They stopped short, but it was too late. A crash came from the storage room at the back of the shop and then a terrifying scream. Sabine rushed down the remainder of the stairs and rounded the corner in her upstairs apartment, grabbing a butcher knife from the kitchen counter as she took the next set of stairs down into the shop. She skidded to a stop at the back door, and Maryse stumbled into her from behind, sending them both sprawling.

Sabine hit the wood floor hands and knees first and felt a piercing pain in her palms. She jumped back up, looked at her hands, and saw tiny shards of glass embedded in her skin. Someone had broken the window in the door. Helena was nowhere in sight. Neither was the screaming intruder.

“It’s ten o’clock in the morning,” Maryse said, staring at the door. “It’s broad daylight, Sabine. I mean, I know this is the back of the building, but what kind of person would risk trying to break in right now?”