La Vida Vampire

“Is Maggie ready to put the condo on the market?” Jenna demanded, apparently for the second time.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Jenna,” Shelly said. “Stop nagging Cesca about the condo. If you really want to make some money, sell that oceanfront house up the block. Those owners rent to the craziest people.”

“More spring breakers?” kindergarten teacher Missy Cox asked.

“No, a couple who yell at each other in some foreign language half the time. And talk about rude? They ‘borrowed’ the Berrys’ rowboat without asking permission. Gene was furious.”

“Who was furious about what?” Kathy Barker asked as she breezed into the kitchen with Daphne Dupree behind her. Kathy’s an artist, Daphne a pastry chef, and they both carried white bakery boxes. I smelled chocolate and lemon already.

“Never mind,” Shelly said, as the ladies set the boxes on the island counter. “Let’s talk about good stuff. Cesca, you first. How did your tours go this week?”

I doubted these ladies would hear differently, so I smiled and fudged. “Great. We had ghost sightings up the wazoo.”

Missy laughed. “One of my students was in your tour Monday. A little pistol named Robbie.”

“You’re kidding,” I said, smiling. “He’s adorable.”

“Not when he talks that loud in a closed classroom all day, but he sure was high on you and the animal ghosts.”

“We have animal ghosts in town?” Kathy asked and shuddered.

“We do,” I said. “Your turn, Kathy. How was the art festival in Deland?”

“I won a first place ribbon and even sold enough to make the show worthwhile. Daphne has good news, too.”

Daphne nodded. “Bridezilla Barbie’s wedding is over, and the cake from hell was a success, ” she said to a chorus of woohoos. “And we’re celebrating,” she continued, “with lemon cake and chocolate coconut bars. Eat up before we deal the first hand.”

While Maybelle and Nadine shared cute things their grandchildren had done, I sampled both goodies, grabbed my sweet tea, heavy on the ice, and was ready to play when Shelly called us to order. One table was set in Shelly’s dining room, the other in her small den.

Maybe it was the moon phase, maybe it was Jenna’s energy, but I had the heebie-jeebies all the time I played at the same table with her. It didn’t help my concentration that my cards were so-so until the end of the night. But when luck turned, it turned inside out. Shelly and I bid and made a grand slam in hearts—doubled—and I got to play the hand. What a rush. On a victory high, I car-danced to the Beach Boys’ greatest hits as I zipped home in my precious SSR. Maggie was out—

presumably with Neil—so I changed clothes and sprawled on the living room sofa to watch HGTV, then switched to TV Land to catch Night Court.

Maggie came in at half past midnight, dropped her purse on the Victorian side table, and flopped on the sofa with me.

“How was bridge?”

I clicked the TV off. “Shelly and I bid and made a doubled grand slam. How’d the new design go over?”

“I quit. Told that woman she had to decide what she wanted before anyone could finish the job. You should ’ve seen her Botoxic face. Scary.” She paused and shuddered. “On the up side, I have a new client in Gainesville, and I can focus on our Victorian more.”

“That reminds me. Jenna Jones, the Realtor in bridge club, may call you about the condo.”

“To buy it, list it, or show it?”

“List it or show it, I’d imagine.” I clasped my arms around my knees. “I told her I didn’t think the Victorian was close enough to finished that you’d want to put the condo on the market.”

“It’s not, but it may be in another month, depending on how much lead time I want to sell before we move. What do you think of Jenna?”

“She talks about house hunts and closings all the time, so it sounds like she sells like tourists buy Tshirts.”

“But?”

“Is there such a thing as being overanimated?”

Maggie laughed. “Thanks for the heads-up. You already take your landscape test?”

“Not yet. It’s matching garden designs with period home styles.”

“Timed or open-book?” Maggie asked around a yawn.

“Timed, but I know my stuff. Then I have a new book to start before I meet Neil to surf.”

“You feeling any better about Holland having a gun?”

“No, but out of sight, out of mind. I’m restless, though.”

“The new moon or the storm?” She does know me well.

I shrugged. “Both, I guess. I may go out for a walk later. Or ride my bike.”

“Take the cell, and be careful. That Holland guy may be harmless, but Stony isn’t.”

“No sweat. I have super senses.”

“Yes, when you use them.”

“Stop fretting. As long as Stony keeps eating garlic and jalape?os, I’ll smell him coming.”