Blown To Pieces (PTO Murder Club Mystery Book 2) by Katie Graykowski Read Free Book Online Page B

vials of holy water off the altar, popped the tops, and shoved a tube on each of her fingers. She didn’t seem to notice. This close to Donnalee, I noticed that her game of Draw the Eyebrows on Her Face had resulted in two black smudges under her eyes. With the vials on her fingers and the black under her eyes, she looked like Freddy Krueger had been drafted by the NFL.
    At least Donnalee no longer drove. Monica had taken care of that by throwing both sets of Donnalee’s car keys into Lake Travis, removing her car’s distributor cap, and slashing her tires. Monica never did anything half-ass.
    Eloise Dunlap ran into the room, tripped over the mosquito net, and almost caught my shirt on fire, but I have very quick reflexes. It’s all the caffeine I drink; it makes me jumpy...thank God.
    I knelt down and helped her up. “Let’s get you seated. Is your spirit guide the Skor bars or the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups?”
    I couldn’t remember the spirit guides by their names, so I went by sugar preference.
    “Thank you, dear. The Reese’s.” Eloise smiled vacantly up at me. She could see and hear, but her memory left a lot to be desired. Still, she wasn’t much of a danger to herself and others, so who was I to judge?
    Life in the séance world was as risky as bungee jumping...at least in this house.
    “Everyone, take your places.” Astrid flourished a big-diamonds-on-every-finger hand, and most of us took our seats. Donnalee floundered in the corner.
    “Ms. Donnalee, let me give you a hand.” Haley felt her way around to the opening of the mosquito net and helped Donnalee to her chair.
    Astrid glared at me as I sat down. I would have helped Donnalee find her chair, eventually. Watching her bump into the wall, back up, and bump into the wall was funny. I couldn’t afford to pay for entertainment so I had to take what I could get.
    Haley took her seat.
    “Join hands.” Astrid took Donnalee’s hand before she could knock any Skors bars into the candelabra and light them on fire. Candy wrappers are surprisingly flammable. You’d think something containing precious chocolate would be flame retardant; then again, the candy company probably hadn’t accounted for spirit guides on a sugar high. The rest of us joined hands. “Close your eyes and reach out with your mind to the astral plane.”
    Monica and I refused to close our eyes or hold hands. Rebellion was so much fun.
    “Sebastian, come to me, old friend.” Astrid started rocking back and forth.
    I jammed my eyes shut. All of those sequins rocking back and forth were enough to trigger epilepsy or brain fever. Okay, now I understood the whole eyes-closed thing.
    “Come to me, my dear Sebastian. I need your help.” Astrid’s voice rose in a fake-accented crescendo worthy of community theatre.
    Really, she had missed her calling. Perhaps I should steer her in the direction of the Lakeside Players. I’d heard their version of Kinky Boots was amazing.
    “Goo-day mate.” Astrid’s British accent turned slightly Australian. Sebastian Sidebottom was here. “Just out throwing with me mates.”
    Or it could have been “out mowing the gates.” Sebastian’s accent was part Liam Hemsworth and part Daffy Duck.
    Astrid finally stopped rocking back and forth. “Got a Largest Boomerang competition tomorrow.”
    Since Sebastian had supposedly been beheaded in a horrible boomerang accident, I’d have given up the sport if I were him. Then again, he was imaginary, so I guessed he could do whatever he wanted.
    Vesta pulled a crumpled piece of paper out from underneath the table and unfolded it. “We need your help finding Big Tommy Prather.” Her voice boomed out and bounced off the walls.
    For clarity’s sake, Astrid always assigned a spokesperson to converse with Sebastian. She used to do it herself, but everyone kept getting confused by who was talking, and all of the fake accents had been incomprehensible, which I’d thought was a plus.
    “He’s not