God, that would totally suck. For her, that would mean they’d take Ghost Whisperer off the air or something . . . how heinous.
As she pondered the potential for a Friday night disaster, Clyde finally asked, “Aren’t you even a little curious as to why Satan himself would send someone to terrorize you? That’s a pretty strong message he’s sending, if you ask me.”
Yes, she was curious. No. Yes. No. Delaney shook her head as though that might clear up her misgivings. She refused to delve into this any further. If Satan wanted her, he’d just have to get his spineless ass in gear and come get her himself. She wasn’t indulging, or for that matter divulging anything to, this Clyde.
Before she had the chance to voice her rather ballsy thoughts, Mrs. Ramirez appeared at the store door, pressing her round face to the glass and motioning for Delaney to open the door.
“Who’s that?” Clyde asked from on high.
“Crap. Mrs. Ramirez. She comes to help me in the store sometimes and she loves to play with the dogs. She cannot see you or there’ll be no keeping you under wraps. Disappear or something, would you?”
Clyde cringed, attempting to make his body smaller. “Do you have any idea what it took for me to do that the last time? I nearly burst a blood vessel.”
Mrs. Ramirez pounded on the door, shaking the handle. “Ju open de door, Mees Delaney. Ees locked.”
Delaney looked up at Clyde with a ragged sigh, hoping Mrs. Ramirez couldn’t see with great distance into the depth of the store. “Can’t you squeeze really hard or something? She can’t find you here or the whole block will know about it.”
Delaney went to the door, popping the top lock and sticking just her nose out. She faked a sneeze in the general direction of Mrs. Ramirez’s cherubic face. “I’m sick, Mrs. Ramirez. I’ve got it covered today. You go home.”
Her black eyes pierced Delaney’s with sympathy. “Oh, ju seeck. I come een an’ make ju soup, jes?”
“Jes, I mean, no. I don’t want you to catch it. Go home and come back next week. I’m sure I’ll be better then.”
Her brow furrowed with deep lines. She planted chubby hands on her stout body while the wind whipped her salt-and-pepper hair from its tight bun at the back of her head. “No. I come een an’ take care of de store an’ de babies. Ju go to bed.”
Delaney shot another fake sneeze at her and followed up with the best hacking cough she could summon. “I’m going to leave the store closed today, Mrs. Ramirez. Promise. Hurry up and go home before you catch something.” She sniffled for good measure.
“Ju sure?”
She nodded at her friend who was more like a grandmother. “Jes . . . er, yes. Thanks, Mrs. R. Give Alonzo a big hug for me, okay?”
Mrs. Ramirez ran a finger along Delaney’s nose, then turned to stroll away from the store, her luggage-sized purse swinging from her elbow.
Relief escaped her lungs in a whoosh of air.
“She gone?”
Now back to Clyde. “Yes, she’s gone. Okay, so I have a question.”
“Fire,” he said, stretching his legs back out, defining every last sexy muscle in them.
“If your mission is to capture me and get me to Hell, why would Lucifer send a noob who hasn’t learned his demon ass from his fire-breathing elbow? Dude, that’s just insane. Especially when you’re dealing with someone who knows the spirit world like I do, not to mention the talent for bullshit you demons are so gifted with.”
Now Clyde snorted, long and loud, making the notion of his ability to capture her seem even more preposterous. He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, but his eyes left her face and stared down at his toes. “If you know the spirit world, then you know sometimes it has no rhyme or reason. And Satan doesn’t need a reason to do anything. He does as he pleases.”
“So he sent you here with absolutely no backup? No heavy hit ters to help you out?” This made no sense.
“None of that matters now. That’s why I need you to listen. Satan sent me on a mission I have no intention of completing.” He looked around as if someone—someone they couldn’t see—might hear them.