Chris Green - Only the Good Die Young

I think the contest would’ve lasted a lot longer, too—past dawn, past the breakfast that he had brought up to his room—if Constanza hadn’t knocked at his door a second time, announcing that the family had a visitor. A woman named Alicia who said that she was hand-delivering a parcel of vintage clothing for Farah, and she insisted on giving it to someone in the family before she left.

Knowing deep inside that something was off, I went downstairs before Gavin did.

And when I saw Amanda Lee sitting in the parlor, my ghost mouth almost hit the floor.

“Hello,” she said softly to me, just like we’d agreed to meet here and everything was copasetic.

I was still gaping as Amanda Lee folded her hands in her lap. She was wearing a smart linen business suit and tasteful bronze jewelry that looked antique-y. But her totally not Amanda Lee clothing wasn’t what really caught my attention. She’d done something to her face with makeup, and her flat cheekbones seemed even higher, her nose longer, her eyes bigger. And she was wearing fashionable thick-rimmed glasses. She’d even dyed her hair a dark brown and pinned it into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She was a businesswoman who faded into the woodwork.

So what do you say when someone has such balls of steel?

Before I recovered from seeing her here, Gavin walked in, and I sensed the hackles rising all over Amanda Lee at the sight of the man she thought had murdered the women she loved. But I’ll give this to her—she was a bitchin’ actress, and he didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

Rising from her seat, she nodded to Gavin, who remained at the entrance to the cream-and-marble parlor, greeting her and faintly smiling like he was waiting for her to explain her presence better than Constanza had done when she came upstairs to fetch him.

“I’m sorry to inconvenience you,” Amanda Lee said, laying on the Virginia accent that she’d shed during her years in SoCal. “But I don’t feel right about just leaving these one-of-a-kind pieces off with anyone, even if Ms. Edgett has already paid for them.”

She sent a discreet glance to Constanza, who stood just behind Gavin.

I think Amanda Lee’s portrayal of “Alicia” included a bit of snobbery, and Constanza only narrowed her eyes at her in return.

Gavin’s smile went tight before he planted his hands on his jeaned hips. “I’ll take the merchandise off your hands. Farah mentioned consulting with a new personal shopper, but I didn’t know she was having anything delivered today.”

“There’s a Chanel evening gown in here,” Amanda Lee said, emphasizing the designer and really pushing the snobby angle. “When Farah saw it, she could barely contain herself.”

I wasn’t big into fashion, but even I recognized “Chanel.” How had Amanda Lee gotten ahold of clothing of this caliber? More to the point, what was she doing with it here?

Gavin motioned to the wheeled dress rack near the sofa where Amanda Lee… er, Alicia was sitting. Garment bags hung from it.

“I would’ve trusted Constanza to accept these,” he said, turning to grin at the maid, who gave him a warm smile in return, then left the room.

Amanda Lee also smiled, but at the maid’s retreating back. Then she aimed the gesture at Gavin. Sugary lemonade sweet.

“I’m on a working vacation from out of state for a short time,” she said, “and when I attended the Locksley Foundation dinner last week, I heard about Farah’s weakness for vintage designs. She mentioned to one of my associates that she was fond of Chanel in particular, and word gets around. So when I came across this exquisite dress for a steal yesterday, I thought of her immediately and arranged a quick meeting. Would you like to take a look at it, Mr. Edgett?”

“No, thanks.” Polite, but direct.

Amanda Lee didn’t seem surprised when he didn’t say anything more. He was obviously waiting for her to take her leave.

When she began to head for the door, I was a smidge surprised. Surely she had more than this up her sleeve. And… yup.

She made a delicate show of sucking in a breath as she passed by me.

“Oh my,” she said.

Gavin slowed his steps, giving her a curious glance.

Amanda Lee seemed embarrassed as she said, “Pardon me, Mr. Edgett, but… well, my friends back home say I’m eccentric, so keep that in mind. However, do you have some paranormal activity in this house?”

My essence nearly flipped upside down. What the hell?

Gavin seemed just as stunned while she continued.

“Maybe it’s nothing, but I’m known for my psychic moments, and you have something out of the ordinary going on here. Haven’t you noticed?”

I could tell he was about to say she should get lost. As for me, I was about to pinch the fucking shit out of Amanda Lee like the world’s most furious poltergeist. What was she up to?

She wandered closer to where I was hovering near the sitting room’s doorframe. I slid up the wood like water going against gravity.

She said, “Its presence is stronger in some places than others. Is there a certain room where there are… odd… occurrences?”

He paused, his gaze going hard. I thought he was thinking about his bedroom in particular, but he wasn’t about to confide in this near stranger.

Ultimately, he only shook his head. “I haven’t noticed anything, Ms… .”

“Dantès. Alicia Dantès.”

The last name sounded familiar. I couldn’t say why, though. Frankly, I wasn’t in an analytical mood as I spread over the ceiling, waiting until Amanda Alicia Lee got her ass out of here so I could follow and read her the riot act.

Brusquely, Gavin walked through the foyer and to the door, which he held open for her.

Once outside, Amanda Lee put on a concerned face, then opened the purse she had slung over her shoulder and extracted a pad of paper, plus a pen.

“Mr. Edgett, I sense disquietude in you. So I say this in all earnestness—if you find that whatever is in your home is bothering you or escalates its activity, please feel free to contact me.” She handed him the paper. “I’ve encountered the supernatural before, and I know how disturbing it can be. Now, I’ve never dealt with activity on a large scale, but there’s certainly something here, and I’d be glad to help, even if it’s only to call up friends who do contend with matters of this nature on a regular basis.”

“Thank you, Ms. Dantès.” He didn’t seem impressed by the flaky psychic who’d just bashed into his life. “I’ll take care of the clothing for Farah.”

Alicia Actress paused, her smile fading, and I knew it was only a matter of superior self-control that kept the real Amanda Lee from revealing herself.

But then she turned on that lemonade smile again. “I appreciate your help. So sorry to bother you.”

As he closed the door, I slipped through. She strolled to a Mercedes I’d never seen before—a rental?—in the circular driveway, where a fountain splashed in the middle. I didn’t have the chance to see how Gavin reacted or if he threw away the paper she’d given him, because I was already beelining for her car.

Her windows were open, like she’d expected me and wasn’t going to make my grand entrance any harder than it had to be.

Once I was inside and she started the engine, I let loose. “Are you insane, pointing out that there’s a ghost haunting the house?”

“Not remotely,” she said, reverting to her regular speech pattern.

She wheeled around the driveway and down to the gates, which automatically opened for her. Farah had probably left “Alicia’s” name for Constanza.

It was only when we were off-property, driving oh so casually as she slipped off her glasses with her free hand, that she continued.