Rose and Helena Save Christmas: a novella (6 page)

It took Rose a second before she realized Neely Kate was talking to the ghost.
 

Taylor’s brow shot up in surprise as she looked over her shoulder. “Are you crazy? You think sparkles are going to fix
that
?” She waved her hand up and down while pointing to the empty space behind her.

An indignant look washed over Neely Kate’s face. “Excuse me, but sparkles can fix just about anything.”

Taylor shot Rose a look of disbelief, but Rose just shook her head.
 

“It’s better not to ask.”

Taylor must have agreed, because she gave a small shudder as if to compose herself and said, “Why don’t we go check out your room.”

“Good idea,” Rose said.

Neely Kate trailed behind the two of them, looking like a crazy woman who was having a conversation with herself.
 
But Taylor’s mouth dropped open when she looked behind her. “Helena! You can’t hold those bags in public.”

Sure enough, two paper shopping bags hung in midair.
 

“I don’t care if she’s pregnant. You still can’t hold those bags!” Taylor snatched the bags away, but not before a couple with two kids walked by, their mouths gaping in shock.

“We’re practicing a magic trick,” Taylor said with a forced smile. “It’s looking pretty good, don’t you think?”

The family continued to the hotel entrance, and the elevator doors opened. Taylor shot inside, glaring at the empty corner as Rose and Neely Kate entered.
 

The doors closed and Neely Kate stuck out her foot and crossed her arms, not an easy task with the bags she was still holding. “Helena was just being nice. You don’t have to be so mean about it.”

Taylor stared at her in stunned silence, while Neely Kate turned to the empty corner. “I know just how you feel, Helena. My own family takes me for granted and doesn’t appreciate my efforts either.”

“What are you talking about?” Rose asked, still unnerved that her friend was talking to an empty corner. “Your grandmother appreciates you every Tuesday night when you take her to bingo.”

Taylor seemed to come out of her stupor. “Neely Kate, if you knew the trouble Helena brings with her, you might not feel the same way.”
 

Neely Kate turned up her nose and looped her arm with…nothing. “Don’t you worry, Helena. You’ve got me now.”

Taylor was back to the state of disbelief. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

“And I don’t see a cotton-pickin’ thing,” Rose mumbled.
 

The elevator doors opened and a maid pushed a food cart past the opening.
 

Taylor jabbed her finger toward the corner. “Don’t even think about it.”

Rose led the way to their room, with Taylor close behind. Neely Kate trailed several feet behind, talking in whispers.
 

“Does…Helena hang out with you all the time?”

“No, but she’s with me quite a bit. Her son lives here and he and his wife just had their first child, so she visits her grandbaby a lot. And she tends to get her feelings hurt when people tell her the truth. Then she leaves and pouts.”
 

“Can the grandbaby see her?”

Taylor nodded. “All her family members can see her. We all wondered if the ability would carry to the next generation, and it seems that it has.”

Rose wanted to ask more questions, especially if Neely Kate really had uncovered a paranormal gift that involved ghostly visitors, but they had reached their room. She pulled the key card out of her pocket and pushed the door. “Here it is.”

Taylor walked through the opening and looked around. “Did you go in or touch anything?”

“No, I saw we’d been burgled and we didn’t go in. I had Neely Kate call you immediately.” When Taylor glanced up at her, Rose shrugged. “I have some experience with break-ins.”

Taylor looked as if she wanted to ask, but instead continued her investigation. “Can you tell if anything is missing?”

The two young women moved around the room for several minutes. “I don’t see anything missing,” Rose said, her eyes bugging when she saw a floating lacy pink bra.
 

“I don’t think pink’s your color, Helena,” Neely Kate said, plucking the bra from thin air. “I think you’d look better in tangerine.”

“More like she’d look like a tangerine,” Taylor mumbled.
 

“Neely Kate,” Rose said, “if you’re done playin’ stylist to the dead, can you focus on the task at hand?”

Neely Kate gave her a blank stare.
 

“Do you see anything missing?”

“Oh.” She gave a cursory glance. “No.”

“So where does that leave us?” Rose asked Taylor.

“Well, it was obvious they were looking for something, and the timing of Madame Serafine’s death is too coincidental.”

Rose gasped. “I just remembered that someone tried to steal Neely Kate’s purse when we were walkin’ from the police station to lunch.” Her brow lowered with concern. “I think you’re right. The police think Neely Kate may have killed Madame Serafine. In my vision, a guy held a gun to Serafine’s back, saying they needed to go inside. Madame Serafine said she didn’t have any cash, but the man said he wasn’t interested in money.”

“And they weren’t interested in money here, either,” Taylor said. “There’s twenty dollars on the bathroom counter.”

Taylor turned to Neely Kate, who stood at the end of the bed wearing a skirt on her head. “Helena. What are you doing?” She listened for a moment. “It’s bad enough I’m forced to endure your bad taste in clothing, but at least no one else is subjected to it. Please don’t take advantage of this poor girl’s misplaced excitement and turn her into a mini-me.”

Neely Kate pulled the skirt off her head, giving Taylor a scowl. “Helena’s a free spirit and she needs to express herself. Clothing is her canvas. You’re stifling her creativity.”

“What exactly does this ghost wear?” Rose asked, putting a hand on her hip.

“Trust me,” Taylor said. “You don’t want to know.”

Neely Kate swiveled to the side. “Don’t listen to her, honey. I think you look beautiful.”

Taylor took a deep breath before blowing it out. “Neely Kate, Rose is right. You can play dress-up later. Did you buy anything at Serafine’s shop? Or take anything with you?”

She shook her head, her blond curls bouncing. “I wasn’t there long enough to buy anything. She literally pushed us out the door.”

Rose cringed, still feeling guilty that Neely Kate didn’t get the answers she wanted. But as Rose watched her friend, who seemed to be listening to nothing, she decided she
did
get an answer after all.
 

“Wait!” Neely Kate said, grabbing her purse and digging through it. She pulled out several objects and set them on the bed—lipstick, a can of Vienna sausages, her rhinestone-covered wallet. “This,” she said, pulling out a small red velvet bag. “Madame Serafine shoved this at me as she was shooing us out the door. She snatched it from the purple-haired sales clerk and said I needed protection. That this would help me.” Neely Kate squeezed the bag. “It looks like she was right. It’s protected me.”

“No,” Taylor said, taking the pouch from her. “You’re wrong. This bag is what got you into trouble. This must be what the killer is after.”

Taylor opened the bag and dumped the contents onto the bed—herbs, stones, a chicken bone—certainly nothing worth killing over as far as Rose was concerned.
 

“I don’t get it,” Taylor said. “Someone is after you for a reason, and I thought this had to be it, but I don’t see anything here that justifies purse-snatching or burglary, not to mention torturing Madame Serafine.” Her shoulders slumped. “It must be something else.”

Rose watched as both Neely Kate and Taylor turned their attention to the empty spot, their eyes wide.
 

Taylor looked angry. “What do mean, you took one too?”

Rose glared at the two women. “Since I’m the only one who can’t see or hear Helena, can someone please translate?”

“Helena’s just turned things upside-down. As usual.”

Chapter Seven

Taylor forced herself to maintain control. Losing it on a ghost was both inefficient and unproductive. “What if someone had seen a floating gris-gris bag? And why in the world would you take something like that? You bitched and whined the entire way to her shop and then you steal a voodoo item. How does that make sense?”

“It was dark outside and that street had hardly any lights. I didn’t figure anyone would see.” Helena put her hands on her hips. “And I thought it was candy. You know, how people put chocolates in cute bags and tie them up for party favors? The bag
was
red.”

“Red velvet is for protection,” Taylor said, “and furthermore…you know what, never mind. Where is the bag now?”

“I dropped it on the floorboard of your car. It rolled under the front seat and I didn’t want to retrieve it because you’d gripe like you’re doing now. Then I forgot about it.”

“All of you stay here,” Taylor said. “I’m going to get that bag.”

She left the hotel room, a million things spinning around in her head. The bag had to be the key. What other explanation was there for the attempt to steal Neely Kate’s purse and the search of their room? Unless Neely Kate made a habit of threatening every shop owner she came in contact with, Taylor had to assume the killer was looking for something that he expected to find in Serafine’s shop.

She scanned the street as she walked to her car, glad she’d been able to find a parking spot out front instead of having to use the dark garage. Several times that day, she’d had the feeling she was being watched, but had been unable to catch anyone in the act. It could be Detective Savoy and company, but it was far more likely it was Club Bad Guy.
 

She hopped in the driver’s seat and bent over to look under the passenger seat. Sure enough, just under the edge of the seat rested the gris-gris bag. She retrieved the bag, grabbing a phone charger along with it, and stuffed the bag in her pocket. Then she climbed out of the car, still clutching the phone charger in her hand. If someone was watching, they’d think she’d returned to her car for the charger. She hoped.

The hair stood up on her neck as she walked up the sidewalk to the hotel, and she knew the watcher was nearby. But was he watching her or waiting on another chance to try to snag Neely Kate’s purse?
 

She hurried back to the room and rapped on the door. Rose inched the door open a crack, then flung it open and waved her in. Taylor slipped through the door and pulled the gris-gris bag out of her pocket as she headed for the bed. “Pass me a towel from the bathroom,” she said.

Rose grabbed a hand towel and passed it to her. She unfolded it on the bed and turned the gris-gris bag over, dumping its contents onto the towel. The collective intake of breath said it all. In the middle of the herbs, rocks, and bones glittered ten huge diamonds.
 

Neely Kate grabbed one and held it up to the light. “It’s huge. Is it real?”

Helena stepped next to her and tilted her head from one side to the other. “It’s real all right.”

“Helena says it’s real,” Neely Kate gushed with excitement.

“How can she be sure?” Rose asked.

“Helena was quite wealthy when she was among the living,” Taylor said, “and then there’s the whole murder aspect. People don’t usually kill for fakes.”

“Yeah,” Rose said. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Of all the things I imagined,” Neely Kate said, “I never once considered diamonds.”

“Me either,” Taylor agreed. “I suspected drugs, but if the bags came from Africa, then it makes more sense.”

“Well, none of it makes sense to me,” Rose said. “If Serafine was smuggling diamonds, then why in the world did she just hand one of those bags to Neely Kate? That clerk was countin’ those bags when we walked in like she was doing inventory. She couldn’t have known which one had the diamonds when she grabbed one.”

Taylor nodded. “You’re right. She couldn’t have known which one had the diamonds. When you combine that with the torture angle, it leads me to believe that Serafine wasn’t in on the smuggling. Her shop was being used to get the diamonds into the country.”

“The clerk?” Rose asked. “But she was attacked too.”

“We don’t know that the clerk is the only employee,” Taylor pointed out.

“Well, someone had to order those bags,” Neely Kate said. “They didn’t just appear.”

“What do we do now?” Rose asked. “We can’t stroll down to the police station and hand a bag of smuggled diamonds to Detective Savoy. He’d put Neely Kate in the basement of Angola.”

“And I’m not goin’ to any basement,” Neely Kate said. “Horrible lighting for makeup, and the dampness makes my hair flat.”
 

“No one’s going to the basement,” Taylor said, “and definitely not one in Angola.”

“Well, what are we going to do?” Rose asked. “My boyfriend is an assistant district attorney back home.” She cast a worried glance toward her friend. “Maybe I should call him.”

Taylor shook her head. “That would be a great idea if you were back home, or maybe even in another state, but Louisiana cops don’t give a hoot about the assistant DA in their own precinct, much less from another state. All it would do is make Neely Kate look more guilty.”