Spirits Diamonds and a Drive-thru Daiquiri Stand Read online

  Spirits, Diamonds, and a Drive-thru Daiquiri Stand

  Pyper Rayne Series, Book 4

  Deanna Chase

  Bayou Moon Press, LLC

  Copyright © 2018 by Deanna Chase

  Editing by Anne Victory and Angie Ramey

  Cover Image: © Janet Holmes

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, business establishments, or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

  Bayou Moon Press, LLC

  www.deannachase.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  About This Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Deanna’s Book List

  About the Author

  About This Book

  Pyper and Julius are getting married. There’s a wedding to plan, dresses to order, and daiquiris to consume. But when an old curse rears its ugly head and ends in a murder, Pyper’s younger brother Bo is suddenly in danger of being charged with a crime he didn’t commit.

  * * *

  Now Pyper and her friends are racing against time to clear Bo’s name and neutralize the curse before it claims another life. With a little help from the ghosts of New Orleans, Pyper’s determined to save the day… and still find her perfect wedding dress.

  Chapter One

  “Get your ass out of that dressing room, Jade,” I called. “How can we make a decision if you won’t let us see what the dress looks like?”

  “She hates it. I know it,” Kat said with a sigh and pulled out a short, sparkling pink number that had a giant bow on the ass.

  I shook my head, practically scowling. “I’m not wearing anything with ass accessories.”

  With a pout, she returned it to the rack. A second later, her eyes lit up as she clutched a peacock-blue dress complete with a peacock-tail train.

  “Not as much as that one, I’m sure.” I wrinkled my nose. At this rate, we’d be in the running for the title of America’s Worst-Dressed Bridal Party.

  “I’m coming. Jeez. Give me a minute to get this thing on, would you?” Jade called from the dressing room. Her tone was short and there was no disguising the irritation.

  “That doesn’t sound good.” Kat grimaced and discarded the featured monstrosity.

  I glanced at the clock. It was just barely ten a.m. If our previous bridal preparations were any indication, we were in for a long day. We were at Nola Bridal in the Warehouse District and had just started our search for bridesmaid dresses for both my wedding and Kat’s. Unfortunately, knowing Kat, there was no way she was going to find what she wanted us to wear at the first store we visited. I, on the other hand, had already pulled a handful of vintage dresses. All Kat and Jade had to do was pick the ones they liked. I placed my dress choices on the hook of Jade’s dressing room door and then settled into an overstuffed chair as I waited for her to emerge.

  “This is… Well, see for yourself,” Jade said as she walked out of the dressing room.

  “Oh, wow,” Kat, said, her eyes wide. “That’s, um…”

  “Holy hell, what the heck are you wearing?” I asked, not even bothering to hold back my laughter. The rosettes lining the short skirt combined with the gold-trimmed, shimmering pink bodice and her protruding belly to make her resemble a Fabergé egg. On the rack, the dress had looked interesting. On Jade, it was a total mess.

  Jade glared at me. “The dress you urged Kat to have me try on.”

  “I can see that,” I said, still chuckling. “I meant that.” Pointing at her stomach, I moved my hand in a circular motion. “Did you swallow a beach ball while you were in there?” When we’d walked into the store, Jade—who was only four months pregnant—had barely been showing. But now her prominent baby bump made it look like she was ready to give birth at any moment.

  “It’s a pregnancy prosthetic,” Kat explained. “So we can see what the dress will look like when she’s ready to pop.”

  “Well, it certainly does its job, doesn’t it? Perhaps a dress that is more A-line and a little less ruffled?” I suggested.

  “Can’t you both just elope? Or put these weddings off until next spring when I’ll be post-baby weight?” Jade asked, turning to the side to eye her fake baby bump in the mirror. She sighed and waddled over to the nearest chair. Holding on to the armrest, she carefully lowered herself to the seat. But the moment her butt hit the cushion, the heart-stopping sound of fabric ripping rang through the dressing room area. “Oh no. No, no, no, no. This is not happening right now.”

  “Oops,” I said, fighting the urge to cackle. Leave it to us to put Jade in a dress that would leave her ass hanging out. “I think it’s safe to say that one’s a no.”

  Jade pushed herself up and looked at her exposed backside in one of the mirrors. “Well, it is now.”

  “Oh, dear.” The overworked bridal consultant rushed over, her concerned expression barely masking her irritation. No doubt she’d seen her fair share of ruined dresses after people of all shapes tried to stuff themselves into the size-six samples.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jade said, her cheeks turning bright red. “I’ll pay for the dress.”

  “No, no.” The consultant shook her head. There were bags under her mascara-smudged eyes, and she had an ink stain on her white blouse. Someone wasn’t having the best day. “It’s just a seam,” she added. “We can fix it.”

  “Are you sure? Because we can—” Kat started.

  “I’m sure.” The consultant’s lips curved into a smile. Her entire face lit up and the fatigue in her eyes vanished. The transformation made her appear ten years younger. “It’s not the first time we’ve had a blowout. I’m sure it’s not the last. Really, don’t give it another thought.”

  “That’s kind of you,” I added, guiding Jade back over to the dressing room. “We’ll just get her out of this thing before there’s any more damage.”

  “And before anyone else sees my lace thong,” Jade whispered to me.

  I snickered and positioned myself behind her to keep her from showing off her goods.

  “Wait!”

  Jade and I both turned to see a petite blonde emerge from the front of the store holding a— Was that a wand? I peered at her, taking in her easy smile and the tiny laugh lines around her eyes. She wore a formfitting cotton T-shirt, a long flowing cotton skirt, and had a daisy tucked behind one ear.

  “Hi. I’m Esme, the shop owner.” She held out her hand to Jade.

  “Hello.” Jade’s eyes widened as shook the woman’s hand and a faint current of light skittered over her skin. “You’
re a witch.”

  “So are you,” she said, her eyes glittering.

  “Brilliant, Jade.” I grinned. “I’m sure the wand wasn’t a dead giveaway.”

  Kat laughed.

  “It’s not as if modern witches run around casting all their spells with wands, now do they?” Jade said, giving us a flat stare.

  “No, not usually,” I agreed. “But this is New Orleans, so anything’s possible.” Including the ghost who was following the witch. She was an older version of Esme with wrinkles around her eyes and thinner lips. And judging by her 1970s-style feathered hair, I guessed she was the witch’s grandmother or great-aunt.

  Esme waved the wand in question. “This is just to help me refine my power. Watch.” She turned Jade so that we could all see her profile in the mirror, then she moved to stand behind her. She pressed the tip of the wand to the dress at the bottom end of the tear and said, “Threads of a feather, mend together.”

  A spark of light rippled over the fabric as it magically mended itself back together. “Good as new,” she declared with a friendly wink.

  “Impressive. Delicate.” Jade turned in the mirror, inspecting the witch’s spellwork. “How did you do that?”

  She shrugged. “Years of sewing with my nana, I suspect. All I have to do is visualize what I want the fabric to do and it does it.”

  I told her all those lessons would pay off, the ghost said. Now look at her. She owns a dress shop and doesn’t have to depend on any man to pay her bills.

  I smiled at the ghost and nodded.

  You can see me? she asked, astonished.

  “Sure. I’m Pyper and I happen to be a medium,” I said. “Anything you’d like me to tell her?” I hadn’t always been able to see and talk to ghosts. But after sharing my body with another soul who could, I’d sort of inherited her ability. For a while, I’d hated letting anyone know what I could do. People were either freaked out by my ability or obsessed with contacting their loved ones. It could be a real hassle sometimes. But since Esme was a witch, I figured she’d be able to take the news in stride.

  “Who’s here?” Esme asked, glancing around the dressing room.

  I raised my eyebrows at the ghost, waiting for her to answer.

  Her grandmother, Tess. You tell her I told her so about practicing.

  “Grandmother Tess is here. She’s proud of you, Esme. And also she wants to say, ‘I told you so.’”

  Tears formed in the witch’s eyes even as she let out a laugh. “Yes, she did. And you were right, Grams. Thank you.”

  Jade squeezed Esme’s arm and disappeared into the dressing room. Kat started looking for something more appropriate for a seven-months-pregnant bridesmaid, and I relayed Grandmother Tess’s words of wisdom to Esme until finally her grandmother demanded Esme show me the vintage dresses in the back.

  “But those are dresses your family wore,” Esme said with a gasp. “You said they were special.”

  They are. But they aren’t doing anyone any good just hanging in storage. Tell Esme to sell them. Rent them. Do something with them, anything other than let the moths get them. The ghost paused and eyed me. Didn’t I hear you say you’re looking for 1920s vintage?

  I nodded. “Yes. My fiancé has a connection.”

  Good. You pick the one you want first… as a thank-you for connecting me with my granddaughter again.

  “That’s really sweet, but you don’t have to—”

  Yes. I do. The ghost floated over to her granddaughter, wrapped her translucent arms around her, then rested her cheek on the other woman’s head. Love you, little girl. You do what Pyper says.

  “Yes, Grams,” Esme whispered.

  My eyes widened. “Did you hear her?”

  Esme shook her head. “No, more like the feeling I used to get when she was being bossy. She gave me an order, didn’t she?”

  I chuckled and filled her in, feeling weird about ordering her to show me dresses she’d never intended to sell.

  “That sounds just like her.” Esme shook her head in mock exasperation, then grinned as her eyes sparkled. “All right then. Let’s go. I think you’re really going to love these.”

  “I’m going to look at wedding dresses,” I called to Jade, who was trying on her sixth dress of the day.

  “Okay. I’ll be here trying on Kat’s next round of God knows what,” she called back, her tone light and full of humor. No doubt the reunion of Esme and Grandma Tess had pulled at her hormone-laden heartstrings.

  “Hey, when you’re done showing me the wedding dresses, can you pick a few bridesmaid dresses that have some bling and would look good on a pregnant lady?” I asked Esme. “Otherwise Kat is going to have her try on everything in the store.”

  Esme visibly shuddered. “Kat’s that kind of bride?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. You don’t even want to know how many cakes we’ve already sampled.”

  “Got it. Will do.” She opened a door that said Stockroom—Employees Only and waved me in. “This way.”

  I followed her through a maze of garment bags until we ended up at another closed door marked Vintage. Esme pushed the door open, revealing a cedar walk-in closet with about a dozen dresses, each of them displayed with care.

  “Oh my goodness,” I said with a small gasp. “They’re all gorgeous.”

  “Take your pick.” A smile tugged at her lips as she waved her hand, inviting me in.

  I stood in the middle of the room, my eyes wide as I took in the flapper-inspired beaded wedding dress. It was knee-length and had a plunging neckline with matching ivory satin gloves. Next to it was a high-necked, formfitting lace number that looked like it belonged on a movie star. But the one that really caught my eye was the one tucked into the corner with an intricately beaded bodice and high-waisted tulle skirt that had delicate pearls sewn into the fabric. The look was so incredibly romantic I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

  “It has a matching cape,” Esme said, a smile in her voice.

  “I’m that obvious?” I asked as I moved toward the dress, already knowing it was the one. If it didn’t fit, I was going to have to have someone spell me into it because nothing was going to stop me from wearing it on my wedding day.

  “You have the look. You know, the one every bride gets when they find the dress of their dreams.” She grabbed the dress and the garment bag behind it. “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  Five minutes later, I was standing in the dressing room with tears in my eyes. Tears. Me, Pyper Rayne, crying over a wedding dress. Who would’ve guessed? I was the girl who dyed her hair unnatural colors and wore corsets with ripped jeans and scuffed motorcycle boots. Currently I had a bright purple streak in my dark hair. Most would call me edgy or outrageous, not romantic. But in the vintage dress, I felt all the emotions a woman would expect when she finally decided to marry the man of her dreams.

  “Oh, Pyper,” Jade gushed, her eyes wet as she sniffed. “You’re gorgeous. It’s perfect.”

  “It really is,” Kat said, her tone awed. “I can’t believe you found your dress in the first store we walked into. Why can’t I ever manage that?”

  “I just have a really good idea of what I want, I guess,” I said, still staring at the incredible dress. How was I going to force myself to get out of it? I’d never felt as elegant as I did in that moment.

  “We should probably try on the bridesmaid dresses Pyper brought us earlier,” Kat said. “See which ones go best with hers.”

  Jade nodded, and the pair of them divided up the waiting dresses and disappeared into the changing rooms.

  I held my phone up to the mirror, snapped a couple of pictures, and then reached for the zipper, forcing myself to return to my normal clothes. And just as I zipped up my ripped jeans, my phone vibrated in my back pocket. The screen flashed with a picture of my brother.

  Bo was seventeen, and I’d just met him a couple of months ago and taken him into my home. It had been scary, taking on the responsibility of raising a teenager, but so far
everything had been mostly smooth. Thank the gods. I had no idea what I’d do with a troublemaker.

  “Hey, kid, what’s up?”

  “Pyper? I need your help.” His voice was strained and he sounded slightly short of breath. “It’s important.”

  A chill ran through my body as I froze in place. “What is it? What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said quickly.

  “You’re not sure?” I echoed, fear and adrenaline suddenly rushing through my limbs. Without even thinking, I started heading toward the checkout counter of the shop. “What does that mean?”

  “I’m at Reagan’s apartment, and we were just hanging out when there was a loud boom and bolts of magic crackled over the walls.” He was careful to keep his voice calm, but his words were rushed and laced with a faint trace of panic. “Now the front door and the windows are sealed up and we’re trapped.”

  “Just you and Reagan?” I asked, handing the dress to Esme.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Don’t touch anything. I’m with Jade. We’ll be right over. Text me the address.”

  He let out a long breath, and I could almost see him running a worried hand through his dark hair. “I will. Thanks.”

  “No need to thank me, kid,” I said softly. “It’s what big sisters are for.” It still felt weird to call myself his sister, but there was no denying I’d already fallen in love with the sullen teenager. And the idea that he was magically sealed in an apartment by some unknown force had my stomach in knots.

  “That’s what I hear.” His tone was melancholy now, and I knew he was thinking of his other half-sister, Mia, the one who’d practically raised him and had passed away.