Dark Paradise (15 page)

Mala stares down into my eyes. “Do you think Lainey's spirit has been telling you to find me? That somehow you sensed her desire and acted on it but didn't understand what she wants?” She sighs, breaking the connection between us by looking away. “Hell, why am I even surprised, Landry? I don't know what she wants from me either, and it's driving me crazy too.”

“Maybe if we talk, we can figure it out.” I stand, holding out my hand. She gives my outstretched fingers a suspicious grimace like I've been playing in the dirt making mud pies but turns to head toward my truck. My shoulders lighten as if a huge weight has been lifted.

Mala stands in place when I open the door, then glances up at me with a tiny sigh. “Uh…I ran from a crazy stalker and rolled down a hill yesterday. I'm a little sore. Can I get a lift?”

My cheeks heat.
I get to touch her! Play it cool.
“Yeah, okay.” My palms tingle when my hands wrap around her narrow waist. When I lift her up, she lets out a small squeal, and I chuckle. “You weigh nothing but a minute.”

“Maybe compared to you,” Mala huffs, sliding across the seat.

I walk around to the other side and get in. We ride in silence for a couple of miles. I don't think either of us knows how to begin. Finally she asks, “What do you know about how Lainey died?”

“Dr. Rathbone's like family. He and my father grew up together, and they're still pretty tight. Anyway, Uncle Jay told us that Lainey had been murdered. He also said that her body had been found out here.”

Mala snorts. It's not at all ladylike, but it works for her. She catches my sideways glance and scowls. “Your uncle's not my favorite person. I'm sorry if that offends you, but he has the ethics of a night crawler. Figures he'd be the one to blab. Sheriff Keyes ordered his deputies to keep quiet about the case. So what else did he say? Did he have any ideas about how someone coerced a grown woman into the woods and cut her wrists without her putting up a fight? The wounds were perfect. No hesitation marks like she changed her mind like in a real suicide. I should've caught that myself when I found her.” She sounds grumpy about that. Like missing a clue is a major offense.

Okay, go careful. Don't give out too much.
“He said she'd been drugged.”

She gives a sharp nod. “That makes sense. What kind?”

“What do you mean?”

“What kind of drug did the person use? If it was some kind of prescription medication or an exotic poison, the police might be able to trace who purchased it through the pharmacy or shipping company. Narrow down the suspects a bit. How long had the drug been in her system? Long enough to knock her unconscious at another location so the person had to physically carry her to the spot where he threw her in the water? Or did the drugging take place later, once they'd already reached…”

God, she's intense. I'm not handling her questions well. I keep picturing my big sis on the autopsy table. My stomach twists, and I pinch my lips tight.
Please don't vomit again.

Mala catches my puckered, prune-faced expression. “Oh, I'm sorry.” Her hand lightly touches my tense arm. The heat from her palm warms my skin for a few seconds. Then she must remember I'm the crazed stalker and snatches it back. “This is your sister I'm talking about. I'm an idiot.”

I swallow hard. “No, don't say that. I asked for your help.”

“But my speculations aren't helping. They're just wild guesses with no evidence to justify them.”

I glance at her. Her voice trembles. Sincerity shines on her face. I tear my gaze away and turn onto the main road leading to town. “There's one thing,” I begin then finish in a rush, “I've been wondering how you found her. What did she look like? Did she look scared?”

Mala sighs, twisting her fingers together. “No, she appeared peaceful.”

My hands tighten on the steering wheel. “But we both know that's a lie. If she was peaceful, we wouldn't still be seeing her.”

“No, I guess not.”

“I had an idea. Your mom mentioned that psychic, Madame Rubine, channels the dead. I thought maybe we'd go see her.”

“Oh, I don't know. Did you also hear she's pretty pricey? I can't really afford to do something like that. Plus I don't really believe in all that mumbo jumbo.”

“You've seen Lainey, Mala. How can you not believe?”

“Easy. How often do I see her? Not very. So how can this Madame Rubine call up the spirits of every grieving person who throws their hard-earned cash at her? That'd be a lot of undead running around.”

“Come on, what would it hurt to try? I called her this morning. She has an opening at nine. Will you come with me? I guarantee it'll be more fun than grocery shopping.”

I pull out my sad-puppy look.

Mala studies my face for a long moment and sighs. “Okay.”

T
he mobile home looks like all the others in the Golden Garden Mobile Home Park, except for the fact that it's painted blue and white and boasts a large sign on the roof with a hand holding an eyeball in the middle of its palm. A robed woman stands in the front yard surrounded by a lush garden. She's youngish and wears her dirty blond hair pulled up in a scarf. Loose tendrils straggle around her chubby cheeks. Her large eyes have been lined with thick mascara and liner, but the rest of her face is free of makeup. A tow-headed toddler, wearing only his diaper, runs around her legs, avoiding her frantic attempts to corral him.

She waves to us when we pull in her driveway. “Hi there, ya'll are fifteen minutes early. I still need to get my boy next door to the sitter, but ya'll come on in.” She lunges for the baby, grabbing him about the waist. He squeals with glee as he's hoisted into her arms. She gives us a harried grin and heads toward the neighboring home.

I don't move from the seat when Landry comes around to open my door. Instead, I lean my head close to his and whisper, “This is stupid.”

“You've made your feelings clear on the matter,” Landry drawls, his raven-wing brows drawing inward.

I ignore the hand that settles around my waist. “Did you tell her why we need her advice?”

“Nope.” He gives a little tug, and I fall out of the truck into his arms. I inhale the spicy scent of his aftershave and catch my breath. Our eyes meet, and I try to read the emotions swirling in the smoky depths.

“Don't worry, I've got you,” he says with a small smile.

My hands flex on his broad shoulders. For the life of me, I can't think of anything to say in response. His silky hair brushes the side of my cheek as he slowly lowers my feet to the ground. I lean against the side of the truck, expecting to be released, but rather than moving back, he keeps his arms wrapped around me for a long beat.

Flustered, I take a small step to the side, breaking the connection. “Good. Okay, then. Let's go see what the spirits tell her about us,” I say, tone heavy with sarcasm, but my heart races like it has a mind of its own.

Landry gives me a breath-stealing smile. I let him walk in front of me and do a quick underarm sniff to make sure I put on deodorant this morning—yep, fresh as an orchid, but not for long. We await Madame Rubine's return in her front yard. Sunlight reflects off the white house paint. After five minutes, perspiration dots my forehead and soaks into my shirt. I fan myself with one hand, wishing for some shade and trying to sort through the confusing mix of emotions filling my mind about Landry. It doesn't help that my eyes keep returning to his firm backside, and my thoughts get wonky again.
Stupid brain.

Madame Rubine returns like a mini-hurricane. Frenetic energy crackles off her body as she dashes over to us. The riotous colors of the plants jumbled together in tiny garden beds mimic the patterns in her paisley satin robe. She looks like she imitated the wardrobe of a clichéd gypsy queen from an old movie. Everything about her screams fake, money-grubbing con artist. She'll play on our emotions and tell us exactly what she thinks we want to hear. I have to catch her in her web of lies so Landry, in his desperation, doesn't get hooked.

Ruby, for that's what she asks us to call her, leads us into her lair. The room doesn't give off the exotic psychic mojo I imagined. I guess the poor woman can't afford the heavy velvet drapes, brass chandelier, and ornate crystal ball to really impress. Instead, she has a trunk full of toys stuffed in a corner and lots of plants. The warm air holds the scent of fresh earth and thick moisture like a hothouse. Sconces holding a multitude of burning candles hang from the walls throughout the room. Their scents mix together to form their own special, stinky blend. Tears fill my burning eyes, and I scrunch up my nose to hold back the threatening sneeze.

“I'm so sorry, I must look a sight.” Ruby graces us with a sheepish smile that reveals deep dimples. She pulls the scarf off her head and fluffs up her blond curls. She reminds me of that little girl from those black-and-white movies. They even named a drink after her—Shirley Temple. Man, she's a cutie pie. Five minutes and she's already charming me into letting down my guard.

“Charlie, that's my little heathen, his daddy fed him doughnuts for breakfast. The sugar went to his head. He wouldn't settle down in front the TV long enough for me to get dressed this morning,” she says, and I catch Landry averting his eyes to the ceiling. Wonder what just passed through his head to make him blush like that?

Time to leave. I step closer to Landry, ready to make up some excuse.

Ruby flutters her hands in the air. “I could go throw on some sweats…but ya'll didn't come for my looks, did ya? Sit down.” She waves toward the table against the far wall, separated from the rest of the living room by a baby gate. She picks up a kettle. “Would ya'll like some tea?”

I hide my shudder, afraid to ask what sort of weird, psychedelic tea a medium might give her clients. I can totally see her tricking us into thinking our drug-induced hallucinations of dancing teddy bears are visions of the spiritual realm. I give Landry a warning shake of my head. “No, thank you, Ruby. Uh, I'm embarrassed to ask, but would you mind putting out the candles? I'm allergic to sage, and I think I smell that mixed in with the others.”

Ruby's cheeks turn bright red. “Oh, Goddess, I'm so sorry.”

Landry frowns and gives me a hard stare.

I shrug back, grab a tissue from the box on the table, and blow my nose loudly. “No, I'm sorry to be such a pest. I appreciate it though.”

I stand by an open window, dabbing sweat from my forehead with a clean tissue. No way can I survive without a breeze until this aroma factory of a deathtrap clears out a bit. Ruby snuffs the candles, then turns with a wide smile. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good. Please, have a seat so we can get started.”

Landry and I sit down at a round table covered with a thick red tablecloth.

“Give me your hands,” Ruby says, reaching out to us.

I lay my palm on top of hers, and Landry does the same.

“Now take each other's hands.”

Landry and I share another glance. He presses his thigh against mine, and I derive a bit of comfort from having his strong presence beside me. I draw in a deep breath, startled by my reaction to him, and take his hand.

Ruby smiles. Her hazel eyes close. Silence, but for our harsh breathing, fills the room for what feels like forever. I study Ruby's blank face. A minute crease forms on her brow then settles into deep grooves on her forehead. Her hand tightens around mine. “I see darkness,” she says, and sighs. Her head tips forward, and she groans. “Ya'll have questions, fears for your future together.”

I twitch, wishing I could take my hands back. My palms have gotten sweaty, but not nearly as moist as Landry's. Both of their grips keep me from pulling away.

“There's opposition to ya'll being together. Family? Mother? Father?” Her voice rises higher as if in a question then settles into authority. “They're not supportive.”

My hand tightens around hers then releases as I think about how disappointed Mama will feel once she finds out I've disobeyed her wishes. And Landry's parents? Well, I can only imagine the righteous reverend's displeasure if he learns his son has gone to a practitioner of the dark arts with the witch's daughter.
Muwahahaa.
I stifle a giggle at that random thought.

Ruby rocks back and forth, moaning as if in pain. “Ya'll have to fight to be together. It'll come down to a choice. Love for one another or love of family.”

I roll my eyes at Landry, about ready to burst out laughing
. Love for each other, ha!
But he's too busy nodding to notice. Ruby has sucked him in like a trapdoor spider and stuck him good. And poor Landry can't keep his big mouth shut.

“What about my sister?” He leans over the table, almost jerking me out of my seat.

Ruby's head tilts to the side, as if she listens to a voice we can't hear. “Your sister accepts and encourages the relationship.”

I shoot Landry my shut-up frown and ask, “Madame Ruby, will she be my maid of honor?”

Ruby frowns in thought then nods. “Yes, she will. All ya have to do is ask. She'll do anything for her brother. They're very close.”

Landry wilts in his seat.

I yank my hand from hers. “Wrong. Firstly, Landry and I aren't in a relationship for our parents to disapprove of. Secondly, his sister's deceased. That's why we came—to see if we could contact her spirit. Come on, Landry,” I say, tugging on his hand. “She's a fraud. She can't help.”

Ruby stands quickly. “I see the future. Not always is it clear, but what's coming in about the two of you is very strong. Your families disapprove, and ya'll have to choose whether to cave to their displeasure or stand up for one another. If ya don't fight, they'll destroy you.”

“Just give it up, Yoda. You've been caught,” I say.

“No, the only part I lied about was whether or not his sister would be your maid of honor.”

“Mala, wait. What if she's telling the truth?” Landry says, breathing hard.

“Don't be naive. If she lied about one thing then she could be lying about all of it, Landry.”

“Maybe if she knew more about what's going on, she'd be able to help.”

“Help her get one over on us better, you mean?”

Landry pulls out four twenties and lays them on the table. “I want you to contact my sister's spirit.”

Ruby shakes her head. “I can't do that. I'm sorry. All my information comes from my guardian angel, not the spirits of the dead.”

Landry pushes the money across the table, desperation written clearly across his face. “Please. Ask your guardian angel what it knows about Lainey. She's been haunting Mala. Tell me who killed her.” His voice rises with each word, and simultaneously the temperature in the room drops. His hand tightens around mine again, and his eyes glitter. “It's her, Mala. She's here.”

“Oh, crap,” I say, chilled. Mama's warning about contacting Lainey flashes through my head. Why hadn't I listened?

Ruby's eyes widen. “What's going on?” She loses her fake country twang for a northern accent similar to the one I've heard spoken on TV shows—
Jersey Shore
or
The
Sopranos
. Ruby isn't even from the South, but Landry doesn't notice that either.

“It's my sister,” he says, breathless. “It's Lainey.”

“No, Landry,” I say, heart pounding. “We should go. This is dangerous.”

“It's why we came.” He squeezes my hand so hard it hurts. I don't think he realizes. His eyes never leave Ruby's bloodless face.

“I came because I hoped Ruby was a real medium,” I tell him, trying to pull my hand free. “She's not! Look at her, she's terrified. Lainey's dangerous—unpredictable. I don't want her inside me again.”

“She can use me,” Ruby offers in a rush, and her eyes take on a frantic glitter. “My chakras are open. My mind and spirit are in tune.” Before I can pull away, she grabs my other hand and closes her eyes.

“Don't, Ruby. You don't understand—”

“Lainey, if you're here, give us a sign,” Ruby says.

The cold spot settles over the table, and the overhead light rocks back and forth. We look up to see the rope cord sway then dip as the light flicks on. And off.

“Oh my Goddess,” Ruby whispers. “Lainey, your brother wants to ask you some questions. Turn on the light once for
no
and twice for
yes
. Do you understand?”

Click, click.
“Yes,” Ruby translates. Her eyes roll back in her head, leaving only the whites of her eyes showing.

Landry stares at the light. “It's me, sis. Are you okay?”

Click
—“No.”

“Are you in pain?”

Click
—“No.”

“Do you need help?”

Click, click—
“
Yes,
” Ruby hisses, and a shiver runs down my spine at the alien sound. This isn't Ruby anymore.

A trickle of blood drips from Ruby's nose. The color drains from her face, leaving it a blank, ghastly mask. The blood thickens as it runs across her mouth. Her tongue darts out. The tip licks the blood from her lips, and a mirthless smile stretches her mouth wide.

“Landry,” I whisper. “This isn't right. Please stop.”

His hard gaze falls upon me. “Lainey, did Mala kill you?”

I gasp, frozen.

Ruby's sightless eyes focus on me, and I shiver. I can't meet her gaze. It takes all my strength not to run screaming from the room. Whimpering, I yank my hands from Ruby's and Landry's and back away from the table.

Landry's hard gaze follows. “Did she do it, sis?”

“No!” I yell.

Click
. “No!” Ruby convulses so hard her forehead smacks the table. She tumbles sideways out of the chair. When she hits the ground, her eyes open, and she gazes at us, unblinking. I stare at her in horror, too terrified to care if she needs help.

Ruby coughs, spitting blood from her open mouth. “The baby's crying,” she mumbles, sitting up with effort. “What happened? Where's my son?”

“Ask him. I'm done.” I shove through the beads blocking the front door and exit the trailer into the light. Warm air wraps around my body and soaks in deep. My stomach clenches with nausea, and I bend double, sucking in air to keep from being sick.

“Mala,” Landry calls.

I shoot upright then shuffle down the driveway on legs too shaky to run.

“Mala, wait!” He runs out of the trailer and catches my arm just as I reach the sidewalk in front of Ruby's trailer.

I twist my arm, but he refuses to let go. “Get away from me!”