Got To Get You Into My Midlife (Good To The Last Death #15)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

The décor might have been over-the-top, but the wedding ceremony was every kind of perfect.

Gramps aka Mr. Johnson floated on the altar with Alana Catherine by his side as his best woman.

The smile of excitement on his mostly intact face lit up the room more than the fairy lights on the walls.

Gram giggled like a schoolgirl the entire time I walked her down the aisle.

She wasn’t nervous. She was sure and delighted to be making it official.

In the midst of all the uncertainty, it was a stunning affirmation that the present counted the most.

I’d never witnessed so many Demons smiling at once in my life.

They’d come unwillingly. Gideon had called in a favor and brought them here as guards to watch over Jennifer, Alana Catherine and Shitty Ritchie—the future Higher Power.

In a short amount of time, the Demons’ presence was both normal and welcomed.

It was surreal. And again, proof that Demons were not always the bad guys.

Heck, I knew more Angels that were horrible and evil by a long shot.

I caught Gideon’s eye as I delivered Gram, in all her ghostly beauty, to her beau, and he winked.

It made me tingle all over. My man was the only one for me.

I felt a contentment in my soul. My husband, my daughter, Gram and my sister were all here.

I missed the family and friends who couldn’t be with us, but was grateful for the ones who were.

I was a little teary as I took my place next to Gram, but they were happy tears. Gram had walked me down the aisle very recently. Now, I was returning the favor. As unsettling as life had been lately, this was a beautiful moment that I would cherish for the rest of time.

Candy, in her gaucho glory, almost made it through officiating the ceremony without dropping an f-bomb.

But then again, it wouldn’t be a Candy Vargo performance without a bit of profanity in the mix.

I did groan when she said that the fuckin’ groom could now kiss the fuckin’ bride.

However, Gram and Gramps ignored her as they snogged like two randy teenagers.

Well, if the randy teens were ghosts without corporeal bodies, and their heads went right through each other’s.

Ahh, well. It was the thought that counted.

Sadly, Candy wasn’t done sticking her own foot up her ass.

After the kiss, when she pronounced the dead couple as Mr. and Mrs. Fuckin’ Jackson, I thought Gram would have a stroke.

It wouldn’t have done her in since she was already deceased, but she wasn’t pleased.

Candy tried to make it up to her, by spanking her own ass so hard it would probably leave bruises, but Gram told her to go wash her mouth out with soap.

Candy obliged and was coughing up bubbles for the next hour.

“Daisy girlie,” Gram said as she hovered next to me on the couch and watched as everyone danced. “This is one of the best days of my life… or, rather, death. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I kissed her papery cheek. As the Death Counselor, I could physically touch the dead. Her skin was cold and dry, but it felt heavenly to me.

Gram giggled. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to take Mr. Jackson’s name, but I’m thinkin’ bein’ Mrs. Jackson is just fine and dandy.

Of course, we’re not using the “fuckin’” part that Candy Vargo blurted out like a dang fool durin’ the ceremony.

But my Mr. Jackson said I could do whatever I wanted. That man is a gem!”

“I’d have to agree,” I said, then pried a little bit. “Umm… Gramps told me that you guys have pet names for each other.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” she inquired with a naughty little grin.

“He did,” I said with a laugh. “Care to share?”

Gram gave me the pursed lip look that I’d seen a lot throughout high school when I’d tried to negotiate a later curfew. “You sure you wanna know, Daisy girl?”

“Do I?” I asked hesitantly. Now the old woman had me unsure. “Will I be scarred for life if you tell me?”

“Possibly,” she said with a laugh. “How ‘bout this… let’s just say that Mr. Jackson’s pet name has something to do with temperature and male genitalia, and mine has to do with texture and my rump.”

“Mmkay,” I said, trying not to laugh. I failed. “Kinda sorry I asked.”

“Welp, you should be,” she said with a cackle before she flew back to the dance floor to cut a rug with Mr. Jackson.

I smiled as I watched Shitty Ritchie do the Hustle with Alana Catherine and Jennifer. The Trinity was together and alive. We’d keep them safe until the present Higher Power could be removed. There was no other option.

Candy plopped her sorrily dressed and probably bruised butt down next to me on the couch. “Overheard your conversation with Gram about them pet names, and I got some thoughts.”

Soap bubbles punctuated her every word. It was hard not to laugh. The fact that she was about to chime in on the pet names was terrifying. But far be it from me to not ask questions that I didn’t want the answers to. “And?”

“I’m thinking Gramps’ pet name is either Hot Dick, Flaming Cock or possibly Warm Penis.”

“Kill me now,” I muttered.

“And Gram,” she continued. “Gram is either Squishy Ass, Smooth Bahookey, or maybe Shiny Sphincter.”

“Pretty sure I’m dead,” I said with a groan. Decades of therapy would not be able to remove what Candy had just overshared.

“Anyhoo,” Candy said, pulling a soapy toothpick out of her mouth and licking it. “Let me know if you come up with any others.”

“Will do,” I said, lying through my teeth. I wasn’t going to touch that discussion with a ten-foot pole. Ever.

When Candy boogied onto the dance floor, Jennifer joined me on the couch. She was all Hustled out.

“You okay?” I asked. She seemed like she was having fun, but I wasn’t sure.

She’d agreed to Gideon wiping all knowledge of her from Dip Doody’s memory—the man she loved too much to marry.

Heartbreaking didn’t cover it. But she refused to let the human love of her life die due to her now being a card-carrying Immortal, and the future Higher Power. She was beyond amazing.

“I will be,” she told me. “But right now… in this exact moment, I’m happy—real dang happy.”

“I love you,” I told her.

“Right back at you, Daisy.”

We sat together and watched the joyful chaos. Shitty Ritchie was now standing on Gideon’s head. I didn’t think that would end well, but the Grim Reaper was laughing. June and Charlie were slow dancing to a fast song and the Demons were grooving to the beat.

“I think I see something,” Jennifer said cautiously.

I leaned forward. Seeing for Jennifer was very different than it was for the rest of us.

“Talk to me,” I said, feeling trepidation.

Her brow creased in thought. It looked like the Botox had finally worn off. “It’s not clear like Heather’s G-string, or Candy Vargo wanting a ferret farm. It’s vague. Kinda fuzzy.”

“Okay,” I said, reaching for her hand. “Tell me what you can make out.”

She nodded slowly then spoke. “It’s a person. Can’t rightly tell if it’s a male or a female. It’s strong and angry. It wants revenge.”

“It sounds like the Higher Power,” I pointed out.

“I thought so too, but it’s not,” she said with conviction. “It might be worse.”

“Worse than the Higher Power? What in the hell could be worse than the present Higher Power?”

She shook her head. “That’s what I don’t know. I mean, it could be my imagination running away with me.”

“Could be or might not be,” I told her. “We need to tell Gideon, Charlie, Tim, Candy and Heather.”

“After the reception. Not now,” she said. “Let’s have a good time.” She stood up and extended her hand. The opening notes of the Chicken Dance blasted from the speakers and everyone cheered. “May I have this dance, my friend?”

I took her hand. “Absolutely. I thought you’d never ask!”

Never count your chickens before they hatch. It’s bad luck.

The Chicken Dance was over. We’d made it through Uptown Funk, Dancing Queen—featuring Gram, Marry You and Sweet Caroline before we took a break for cookies and champagne.

The mood was cheerful and the alcohol was flowing freely.

Gideon had insisted he be present for Alana Catherine’s first champagne.

We’d missed all the firsts. I supposed her getting a little tipsy was one we could treasure.

The Universe was blessing us on this fine day… until it decided it was done.

The blast of magic was unexpected. The walls and the roof of the house fell and the wedding decorations were singed to ash. The furniture went up in smoke—all of it. We were now standing on the cement foundation of the house.

It was bad. However, the arrival of the uninvited fake Tom Hanks was horrifying.

With a flick of his hand, most of our guests vanished. I spotted them hanging in the trees about a football field away. Shit was hitting the fan fast.

The only people left were the Trinity, Gideon, Candy Vargo and me. Our odds of taking Tom Hanks down had just gotten slimmer.

“My invitation must have gotten lost in the mail,” Tom Hanks said silkily. “Tsk, tsk, I didn’t realize how rude you people were.”

It looked like Tom Hanks. It sounded like Tom Hanks. It definitely wasn’t Tom Hanks. It was the Higher Power, and It wasn’t happy.

“Why are you here, fucker?” Candy Vargo demanded. She was glowing so bright I had to look away.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” It snarled. “You know exactly why I’m here. I’ve come to murder the competition… with an emphasis on the murder part.”

Tom Hanks threw Its head back and laughed. No one joined him.

Alana Catherine stepped forward. I almost wet myself. Gideon moved to step in front of her, but she held up her hand. He stopped and watched warily. He had gone full Demon. His downy black wings had burst from his back, and his eyes sparked blood-red. He was almost as scary as Tom Hanks… almost.

My fight-or-flight response reacted as well. My fingertips spit flames, and my eyes burned gold. I was ready to go to war if necessary.