Free High Spirits [Spirits 03] by Alice Duncan Page A

board.”
           It had been Mrs. Kincaid who’d been responsible for my career, in a way. She’d given Vi an old Ouija board, and I’d been making a living off it ever since. Therefore, out of a sense of obligation, I always tried to oblige her—and heck, I liked her, too, even if she was a dizzy broad.
           “Of course. Try to calm down, and I’ll see you at ten.”
           “Thank you so much, Daisy. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
           I didn’t either. When I turned with a sigh to go back to the table and clean up the breakfast dishes, Billy looked displeased. My heart crunched. Gesturing at the telephone on the wall, I murmured, “Mrs. Kincaid.”
           “Yeah. I heard.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how you can put up with those people, Daisy. Most of them are dimmer than a burned-out light bulb.”
           “I know it. But they’re rich. I guess intelligence isn’t a prerequisite for inheriting gobs of money.”
           “Huh.” He gulped coffee. “Too bad, if you ask me.”
           “I don’t know.” I stacked our plates and carried them to the sink. “It wouldn’t make any difference to us if God required brainpower before he handed out money.”
           “I don’t think God’s in charge of money.”
           “Probably not.” In fact sometimes I didn’t think God gave a hoot about those of us languishing on earth. Since Billy already thought I was wicked, I didn’t share that thought with him. I suppressed a whole bunch of sarcastic comments in those days.
           “Listen, Daisy, I don’t like you hanging out with Mrs. Kincaid.”
           Lifting a wooden bucket into the sink and turning on the hot-water tap, I said, “I knew that already, Billy. It’s not news to me. If you can tell me how to make as much money as I do telling fortunes by working as a housemaid, I’ll listen, but I’ve got to tell you I don’t relish getting housemaid’s knee.” I was trying to keep the conversation light.
           Billy didn’t buy it. “All those rich people are turning your head, darn it. You’re getting to where you aren’t satisfied with your station in life any longer.”
           Dumbfounded, I whirled around, my hands dripping soap bubbles. “ What?” I was sure I’d misunderstood him.
           “You heard me.”
           “I heard you, but I don’t believe you.” I was so shocked, and his allegation was so absurd, I actually started laughing. It was an improvement over the stew I’d been in after Mrs. Kincaid’s call.
           “It’s the truth.” Billy didn’t like it when I laughed. He started getting surly, actually, as if he knew he was being unfair but wouldn’t apologize. “And it’s not funny.”
           I should have been used to his moods by that time, but I wasn’t. My laughter stopped as abruptly as it had begun. “It is too funny. And it isn’t the truth! Darn it, Billy, you know as well as I do that performing for wealthy people is my job. I’m not dissatisfied with my station in life . Whatever that is. You sound like an English detective novel, for crumb’s sake!”
           “Right. Is that why you go out with Harold Kincaid all the time? For your job? Don’t be ridiculous. Your head’s getting turned by all that money and all those expensive cars.”
           “Harold?” I goggled at my husband. “You’re jealous of Harold?”
           “I’m not jealous of anybody,” snapped Billy.
           He was lying. He was jealous of everyone who took me away from him. I knew it was only because he was in such sorry shape, but it sure could be a pain in the neck.
           “Darn it, Billy, Harold and I are friends ! I should think you’d be glad I’m friends with somebody like him. I could be running around with someone considerably less safe than Harold, you know.” My face felt hot.