“Mother, there aren’t any more pickles!”
A woman with long dark hair wearing a black sequined gown strode in. I glanced at my jeans and sweater. With Zelda in velvet and this woman in sequins, I was grossly underdressed for the event.
Zelda gave her daughter a bored look. “Lemon, dear, this is Blissful.”
Lemon (strange name) eyed me from top to bottom. Then she turned back to Zelda. “Is she interviewing for the new maid position?”
I choked on a cough.
“No, Blissful sees spirits. She’s another medium,” Zelda informed Lemon. “Remember?”
Lemon’s heavily made-up face filled with recognition. “Oh, that’s right. The other medium. Nice to meet you,” she said flatly. “The pickles?”
“Ask Luis if he knows where some are.”
Lemon scoffed. “Luis is busy showing Traylor something in the pool house.”
Zelda touched her pearls. Literally. “In this cold?”
Lemon shrugged. “I don’t know. Ask Luis if you need to. All I know is that I saw them heading outside together.”
Zelda’s lips tightened into a smile. “Well, Lemon, I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure out that if you want pickles, track Luis down and ask him if there are any more. I’ll be in the room in a few minutes anyway. We have a séance to conduct.”
Lemon ducked her head, obviously embarrassed that her mother had spoken to her so harshly in a stranger’s company. If Lemon hadn’t mistaken me for a possible new maid, I might have felt sorry for her.
Might have.
“Fine. I’ll ask Luis.”
She stalked from the room, and Zelda turned to me. “Children can have such a hard time thinking for themselves, especially when they’ve had everything handed to them. No matter how grown they are.” She inhaled from her device and exhaled. “Do you have any?”
“Children? No.”
“I suggest you keep it that way. But then again, you don’t have the money to spoil them like I do.”
I cleared my throat. “Mrs. Zimmer—Zelda, what do you want, again? Why am I here? It obvious you’ve looked into me, but I still don’t know for what reason.”
“I have a proposition for you.”
Again with the propositions. First Lucky and now Zelda Zimmerman. Who would be next? Would Ronald McDonald walk through the door and need me tooffsomeone for him?
Joking, but with the way my luck was going, it wouldn’t surprise me one bit.
“What sort of proposition?”
“To be honest, my séances are losing some of their luster. They’re not the draw they used to be.”
“Your tricks are wearing off?”
That tight smile showed up on her face again. “I’m just not having as much luck as I used to calling the spirits.” She clicked off her device and swiveled her feet to the floor. Zelda straightened and stared at me with eyes like a cobra’s. “I think that’s because of you, Blissful Breneaux.”
“What?”
“I think, because all the spirits are attracted to you, that they’re leaving me. You must have some sort of ghost magnet in that violet head of hair. Used to be, I could snap my fingers and a spirit, along with a very naked Luis, would arrive.”
Ugh. TMI. Gross.
I thought about Luis’s fashion sense, and I wondered if Zelda knew what I knew about him.
