Our Red Hot Romance Is Leaving Me Blue Read online

  She had explained what the Equalizers could offer and their fee, with which he had no problem, but she had added an unexpected expense—the services of a woman in El Paso who had “powers.” And Debbie Sue had even personally vouched for her. Compared to the El Paso woman’s fee, the cost of the services of the Domestic Equalizers was small potatoes.

  Justin was happy Debbie Sue had agreed to help him, but a psychic? Communicating with the dead? The whole thing was creepy. But was it possible? And if it were, what would he say to Rachel’s, uh…ghost?

  He remembered horror stories he had heard around a campfire as a boy. Movies he had seen came to mind. Poltergeist had scared the bejesus out of him when he was a kid.

  He knew reams of articles had been written about extrasensory perception, but he had read few of them. He had seen news stories and TV shows about charlatans who had taken advantage and collected enormous amounts of money from people whose common sense had been overpowered by profound grief. He knew of reported cases of people who claimed to have ESP, but he didn’t know anyone personally. Nor did he know anyone who had even relied on someone with this so-called God-given gift.

  Yet, for all of his skepticism, something from a mysterious place deeply buried within him told him the unexplained message on his refrigerator called for something beyond simple surveillance. Maybe hiring someone who claimed to be able to communicate with unearthly types could explain it for an earthly type like him.

  But spending so much money on something like a fortune-teller still gave him pause. It wasn’t the money, not really, because he had money to spare. He never discussed—and tried hard to not think about—the money that had been awarded to him by Rachel’s insurance company. His deceased wife had been insured by the law firm that employed her by a $250,000 double-indemnity life policy. The proceeds came via certified mail six weeks after the accident. Though he was the beneficiary, he hadn’t even been the one to make the claim. He assumed someone where she worked submitted it. That money, more than he had ever seen or hoped to see in his life, now lay untouched in several banks. The cost of the medium would scarcely make a dent in the total.

  He had to do it, didn’t he? What better option was there? But if he said he would pay for this, he could be cautious, couldn’t he? He could agree to bring the person claiming to have mystic powers to Odessa, spring for a nice hotel room and meals. He could even establish up front that before she and the Domestic Equalizers got their hands on any part of the proceeds from his dear Rachel’s death, they had to prove themselves to him.

  He turned away from the phone and started for the refrigerator for a Coke, but was stopped in his tracks. To his shock and astonishment, a new message glared from the refrigerator door.

  E P CAN HLP

  “Oh, my God,” he whispered as a shudder passed over him. He had just told Debbie Sue he would call back tomorrow, but he walked back to the phone. Holding the business card in his trembling left hand, he punched in the number and waited only two burrs before he got an answer. “Okay, I’ll do it,” he said. “Surveillance and the fortune-teller. But I’ve got conditions.” He outlined his expectations, then hung up.

  He returned to the table, picked up the pen and drew another box around $3,000, give or take.

  Debbie Sue disconnected and turned to Edwina.

  “What’d he say?” Edwina asked.

  “Not much. But he’s going for it. Surveillance and the fortune-teller. Those were his exact words.”

  “No shit?” Edwina said slowly. “I didn’t think he’d agree to it.”

  “I didn’t say he’s enthusiastic about it. He just said he agrees to bring Isabella and her granddaughter here. He’ll pay their room and board, but he’s got one condition.”

  Edwina huffed. “What does he want, a money-back guarantee?”

  “Sophia said her grandmother’s fee had to be paid up front, but Justin isn’t willing to do that. He wants her to prove she’s really got psychic powers before he pays her anything. He wants to, you know, kick the tires, take it for a test drive.”

  Edwina shot straight up from her seat. “Holy shit, Debbie Sue. Don’t you dare let Isabella Paredes tell me anything about my future. I said already, I do not want to know a damned thing about it. I do not want to worry about things before they happen. I’d rather handle them as they come. Don’t you dare use me as a guinea pig. And I’m as serious as a heat rash about that.”

  Debbie Sue patted the air with her palms. “Settle down, oh great one. You act like you’ve got a two-way radio plugged in to the spirit world. I’m the one she singled out and called by name, remember? How do you explain that?”

  Edwina dropped to her seat again and covered her face with her hands. “Hell, I can’t even explain why rap music is so damn popular. Or why boys are wearing the crotch of their pants down to their ankles. How can I explain how a psychic knows stuff?”

  Debbie Sue laughed. “When she gets here, maybe you can ask her about the rap music and the baggy pants. Then we’ll all know the answer to that. The point is, Ed, that she might be able to tell Justin something that will make him believe in her.”

  “You vouching for her wasn’t enough for him?”

  “Apparently not. But you heard me. I didn’t exactly give a glowing endorsement. Three thousand dollars plus expenses is a lot of money. I don’t blame him for being cautious.”

  “Oh, hell, me neither,” Edwina said.

  “I’ll work with him tomorrow on the details. And a room somewhere nice in Odessa.” Debbie Sue bit down on the tip of her nail, deep in thought. “Can you think of anything else?”

  “I’m afraid to think of anything,” Edwina said.

  The sound of an approaching car and the frenzied barking and whining of Jack, Jose and Jim, the Overstreet dogs, interrupted. “Buddy’s home,” Debbie Sue said and headed for the back door.

  Stepping out the back door, she let the screen door close behind her as she watched Texas Ranger James Russell Overstreet Jr.’s black-and-white cruiser creep up the quarter-mile caliche driveway. Her memory didn’t travel back far enough to recall when she hadn’t loved Buddy Overstreet. He had been in her existence for as long as she could remember. Sometimes she wondered if her life could go on if he weren’t a part of it. Not that their relationship didn’t require work and patience—more so on his part than hers, she readily admitted. She was stubborn and willful, even when she didn’t know it. And those were just the traits she would openly acknowledge. Her poor good-natured Buddy endured much from her.

  He came to a stop under the shed. He gave her a smile and a wink as he opened the car door and began gathering papers from the passenger seat. “Hey, Flash. I love it when you meet me.”

  Her being home and out of mischief was his preference, but not necessarily hers. Still, she loved being home before him. It gave her a feeling of being a pioneer woman greeting her man home from a hard day of hunting and warring. She smiled. “Hiya, Wyatt”—she often lovingly called him Wyatt Earp—“I’ve got beer in the fridge and a casserole in the oven.”

  “Good Lord. A welcome home and cooked food to boot. I must’ve done something right today.” He unfolded his solid six-foot, two-inch frame from the car’s interior. Lord, he was handsome in his starched white shirt and khakis. He wore his white Stetson at just the right set on his head.

  She walked to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and hungrily kissed him. Oh, yeah, she could pass up a supper of tuna casserole and feast on her husband’s kisses. That is, if Edwina were not inside the house.

  “Hmm, I like this,” Buddy said, one hand squeezing her bottom. “But I have to admit, it scares me a little. What’s up?”

  Debbie Sue pushed him away and gasped with feigned indignation. Just then, Edwina came out of the house and called out, “Hey, good-looking.” She walked toward them.

  “Well, hello, Ed. I didn’t see your car out front.”

  “I rode out here with Debbie Sue. Vic’s supposed to pick me up in about h
alf an hour. He’s coming in from the West Coast. Man, have we got a new case to tell you about.”

  Debbie Sue shot her partner a murderous look, but the woman was paying her no attention.

  Debbie Sue preferred briefing Buddy in advance on the activities of the Domestic Equalizers. He wasn’t crazy about the detective agency and was quick to either declare that something she and Edwina had committed to do was “too dangerous” or “over their heads.” She tried not to lie to him directly about the cases they took on, although she sometimes didn’t tell him everything she knew. In her mind, she always debated if a fib by o-mission was equal to a lie by co-mission. In Debbie-Sue logic, choosing to omit every detail usually won the argument and unfortunately, this caused her no inner conflict, though it sometimes caused great outer conflict between her and Buddy.

  Indeed Buddy had divorced her once for her hardheaded ways, and now that she had him back, withholding facts here and there seemed to make things go more smoothly between them. His learning of some of her and Edwina’s escapades and unintended consequences upset him much less after the fact than if he knew of them beforehand.

  “I’ll tell you all about it over supper,” Debbie Sue said, taking his arm. “Ed, why don’t you call Vic and tell him to come over here when he gets to town? Y’all eat with us tonight.”

  “Thought you’d never ask,” Edwina said. “I’m about one burned-to-a-crisp meal away from losing that man altogether.”

  “Thought Vic did all the cooking,” Buddy said.

  “He does when he’s home. But when he’s coming back off the road, I make an effort. It’s hard because I have to start by dragging all my shoes out of the oven.”

  Buddy laughed. “You kill me, Ed.”

  Edwina took Buddy’s other arm and the three of them walked toward the door.

  “I’ll wait until Vic gets here to tell you everything,” Debbie Sue said. “I don’t want him to miss it and I’m not sure I’d believe it if I had to repeat it.”

  Vic arrived on schedule and he and Edwina had such a charged homecoming, Debbie Sue was almost embarrassed. Through the meal, Debbie Sue, with Edwina’s help, explained the mysterious events in Justin Sadler’s house. Buddy’s comments amounted to mostly Hmm’s, a few Really?’s and twitches of his thick black mustache. Throughout the discussion, Debbie Sue stole glances at Vic. He didn’t even say Hmm and Really? She felt he was holding something back.

  After the meal, she and Edwina began clearing the table and carrying the dishes to the sink. Vic parked his massive hulk in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over his barrel chest, shoulder braced against the doorjamb. “Anyone, living or dead, who would carry on this campaign of harassment against this Justin guy for months is either desperate or extremely pissed off.”

  “Oh, absolutely.” Debbie Sue looked at Edwina with a wink and mouthed campaign of harassment.

  “And experience has taught me that situation can cause someone to get hurt,” Vic added.

  Debbie Sue’s scalp tingled. Shit. She knew where Vic was headed and Buddy would jump right on that wagon with him before it even had time to leave tracks.

  As if acting on cue, Buddy closed the refrigerator door and said, “I couldn’t agree more. That’s why I want you two to back out of this one, Flash.”

  “Good idea,” Vic said.

  “But, Buddy, I’ve already made a commitment,” Debbie Sue pleaded. “Justin’s depending on us to help him. That’s what the Equalizers are all about—not causing pain by uncovering secrets, but helping people with real-life problems.”

  To Debbie Sue’s astonishment, Edwina said, “I agree with Buddy and Vic. I don’t like getting involved with ghosts.”

  Debbie Sue turned on her partner. “Ed! You traitor.”

  Buddy leaned against the cabinet and heaved a great sigh. “Flash, there’s nothing about this that could be defined as a ‘real-life’ problem. It’s weird to the point of being ridiculous. It could make you two a laughingstock all over Texas. Remember how pissed off you got when that sheriff in Haskell called y’all clowns? I refuse to allow you to get involved in it.”

  “Yeah,” Vic put in. “Can’t you girls find something else to do?”

  A laughingstock? Something else to do? Debbie Sue gasped. These were the three people she dearly loved and who were supposed to love and support her. She couldn’t believe that after all the cajoling and reasoning she had done with Edwina, the woman had sided against her. And after all the talking, negotiating, begging and downright knock-down, drag-out fighting she had done with Buddy over his “forbidding” her to do something, she was stunned that he was taking this obstinate position.

  Oh, well, she could easily twist Edwina’s arm and make her change her mind. It was Buddy’s attitude that stung the most and he didn’t respond very well to arm-twisting. Planting her right fist on her hip, she looked up at him with the squint-eye and spoke slowly. “Clowns? You think what Ed and I do is laughable?”

  “That’s not what—”

  “You know what, Buddy Overstreet?” In spite of herself, Debbie Sue’s voice elevated a decibel. “If I end up wearing face paint, a fuckin’ rubber ball on my nose and juggling horse turds, I wouldn’t back out of this now.” She turned to Edwina. “You know damn well my word is my bond. You’re my partner. You’re supposed to support me.”

  The room fell silent. Debbie Sue swung her gaze to Buddy, her eyes boring deep. Vic cleared his throat.

  “Well, it’s been lovely, kids,” Edwina said breezily. “We should do it again sometime.” She picked up her purse and started for the door. “Vic, you ready to go, sugar buns?”

  “You don’t have to leave,” Debbie Sue said, not veering her eyes from Buddy’s.

  “I’m tired,” Edwina said, “and Vic’s been on the road for a week. We’re going home. Y’all have a good time. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Backing away from the argument momentarily, Debbie Sue and Buddy walked their guests to the door.

  “Y’all drive careful going back into town,” Buddy called out as Edwina and Vic reached Vic’s pickup.

  “Drive careful,” Debbie Sue echoed. “Enjoyed y’all having supper with us.”

  As soon as the door closed, Debbie Sue turned to her husband, one hand on her hip. “Now, where was I?”

  “You were on your way to bed.” Buddy scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the bedroom.

  She clung to his shoulders. “No fair,” she wailed. “You’re bigger and stronger. You’re taking advantage.”

  “I know,” he replied. “But I promise this conversation will have a better outcome if we’re naked.”

  seven

  The next morning, Justin walked out of his house, into the cool pleasance of the early hour. The rising sun showed as a bright orange ball hovering just above the horizon. Layers of mauve, lavender and gold swept the sky like brush strokes. He liked rising early and enjoying the quiet beauty as well as a brief respite from the unyielding heat that would come later in the day.

  He ambled toward the barn, a place he had largely avoided for a year. Debbie Sue had been wrong, accusing him of keeping Rachel’s horses penned up and never letting them graze. Sometimes he had done the perfunctory chores—feeding, watering and turning them out to pasture and returning them to their stalls at night. He had hired a farrier to come by periodically and check their feet. But most of the time, he had hired the teenager up the road to do the chores. He knew he should do more. Rachel had spent hours with the two horses.

  All this talk about the animals and Debbie Sue scolding him for neglecting them had made him feel guilty. He chastised himself for not paying more attention to them. Rachel had loved them so much and Debbie Sue was right. They too had lost someone they loved. What if he and Rachel had had a child? Would he have avoided it and neglected it in the same way just to avoid his own personal pain?

  A sliding bar secured the gate to the corral. Slipping it to the left, he opened the gate just wide enough to squeeze t
hrough, crossed to the barn and the two horse stalls. He filled a bucket with oats and dumped them into feeding troughs in the corner of each stall. The horses watched him with bored detachment, obviously understanding the routine and their roles better than he did. He couldn’t even remember their names. He had to admit he had never bothered to learn. His firefighting career and horse ownership didn’t complement each other.

  Inside the eight-by-eight tack room, a bucket of grooming tools sat on a shelf to the side of the door. Justin didn’t know the purpose of each tool, but he did know what do with the one he had seen Rachel use most frequently. He carried the curry comb back to a stall and started on one of the reddish-colored mares, talking in low, comforting tones. The mare’s ears pricked forward, her eyes wary. Rachel had said the ears and eyes of a horse were their most effective means of communication. He couldn’t keep from wondering what these animals would say to him if they could talk.

  He brushed the mare in earnest, dislodging weeks of dirt and debris. Her muscles rippled and twitched and she looked at him with huge, soft brown eyes. As he brushed, he began to feel better, doing something Rachel would want him to do. He didn’t know what had come over him. He had never been unkind to animals. From the time he was a small boy, he had always been the first to jump to the aid of a helpless creature. His mother had delighted family and friends with tales of how he saved a kitten that had fallen into an irrigation ditch and how once he had taped an entire box of Band-Aids on a scratch on his grandparents’ milk cow, that had promptly slobbered them off. He remembered lying in bed when storm clouds rolled through and crying for all of the animals left out in the open with no shelter.

  He labored vigorously, brushing the mare and concentrating only on the task at hand. When he finished one horse, he moved to the second. Debbie Sue had been right about one thing. He should have done this long ago. Not just for the benefit of the horses, but also for the release of his own pent-up emotions.