A Season of Angels (Angels Everywhere #1)(31)

Leah didn’t know where to start, or if she should. It wasn’t easy to admit her failings. “Andrew and I had a spat, is all. We both needed some time to think matters through so I left.”

“It’s nothing serious, is it?”

Leah shook her head, discounting her concern. “I . . . I don’t think so. We’ll be fine.”

Pam brought the china teapot to the table. “You’re sure?”

“We rarely squabble and it upsets me when we do.”

A series of short horn blasts interrupted their conversation. Although the sound was irritating there seemed to be a certain rhythm to it. Leah closed her eyes and listened carefully. If she hadn’t known better she’d swear it sounded like someone was tapping out “Hit the Road, Jack.”

Pam sent a curious look Leah’s way. “Doug must need my help,” she said, “he’s certainly being clever about getting it.”

“It sounds like . . .”

“ ‘Hit the Road, Jack,’ ” Pam finished for her, snapping her fingers as she walked toward the door. She stopped abruptly and turned around, looking puzzled.

“Is it Doug?” Leah asked.

Pam shook her head. “It’s coming from your car.”

This had to be some kind of joke. She set aside her tea and followed Pam. “Are you telling me my car’s making that weird sound?”

“It’s your horn,” Pam insisted. “Just listen.”

“My horn!” She joined her friend at the doorway.

“This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“You?” Leah laughed. “I better find out what’s going on here.” She grabbed her car keys and hurried across the yard.

“Mercy, stop that right this minute.”

Mercy whirled around to find Shirley hovering over the trunk of Leah’s car, her hands braced against her hips. Knowing she’d overstepped her authority, Mercy reluctantly complied. No doubt she’d done it this time and the archangel had dispatched Shirley to send her home.

“Did Gabriel send you?” Mercy demanded defiantly. If she was going to crash, she was going down in flames.

“No, I’m here to stop you before you get yourself into even bigger trouble.”

“I had to do something fast,” Mercy cried. “Andrew’s worried because he can’t find Leah.”

“What?”

Mercy should have known she’d need to explain. “Leah and Andrew argued this morning and now he feels terrible. He wants to talk to Leah but he doesn’t know where she is.”

“We’re not to get involved in any human’s life,” Shirley chastised. “By the way, what’s with that ridiculous song?”

“It was popular several years back, one Leah would recognize. I’m trying to tell her to hightail it home.”

Shirley folded her arms over her chest and impatiently tapped her foot. “You’re courting trouble with this one. By heaven, Gabriel’s going to be furious. Secular music, no less. You couldn’t have come up with something more . . . spiritual?”

“ ‘Swing Low Sweet Chariot’ just didn’t hack it. I was desperate. It worked, didn’t it? Look, Leah’s leaving now and two to one she’s headed home.”

“You’re placing bets now too?” Shirley said behind a smile. It wasn’t unheard-of for a prayer ambassador on earth assignment to return home with a few minor bad habits. Some angels were known to have found gambling appealing.

“Are you with the God Squad Police Patrol or something?” Mercy blurted out impatiently. Shirley had the luxury of having everything falling neatly into place with her prayer assignment. The last she’d heard, Timmy’s mother had agreed to date a fine, upstanding young man who’d make Timmy a great father.

She and Goodness should have it so easy. As for herself, Mercy was batting zero when it came to helping Leah, and from what she heard, Goodness wasn’t in much better shape. If anything, matters had gotten progressively worse. In the last report from Goodness, Mercy had learned that Monica Fischer had stretched the truth in an effort to seek out Chet Costello. For a woman who prided herself on rigid honesty this was not an encouraging sign.

“I don’t mean to sound so bossy,” Shirley explained, looking apologetic, “but Gabriel could have your wings for this.”

“My wings! I don’t think so.” It would take a whole lot more than tapping out “Hit the Road, Jack” on a car horn for that to happen.

“I’m only trying to help you.”

“I know, but . . .”

A whoosh of warm wind accompanied Goodness, who arrived breathless and impatient, with her feathers ruffled with indignation. “What is going on with you two?” she demanded.

“Shirley decided to appoint herself as my guardian and—”

“I was watching out for your best interests.”

“Stop! Both of you!” Goodness cried, tossing her arms in the air. “I had to leave Monica and Chet at the worst possible moment for this.”

“Not really, we were—”

Goodness cut her off by stamping her foot. “Shall we all get back to our jobs? Humans are trouble enough without the three of us squabbling.”