Bonefire of the Vanities

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Bonefire of the Vanities Page 13

by Carolyn Haines


  “You know nothing about mistreatment.” Yumi’s voice was soft. “Life is hard. Always hard. Now, excuse me, I must see to the shopping.” She stopped at the back entrance. “There’s leftover salmon in the refrigerator if you think the cat would like some. Cats are good. They’re hunters.”

  * * *

  While I poured tea, Tinkie, who’d recovered the sheets without incident, made the bed like a professional. I’d never suspected she knew the meaning of hospital corners. When we were all gathered around the white wicker table in a sunny nook of the suite, Tammy dropped her bombshell.

  “I don’t want to upset you, Marjorie, but Chasley stopped by my house yesterday and demanded that I give him Pluto.”

  “Oh, dear!” Marjorie’s hand went to her throat. “Did he threaten you?”

  “Not in so many words, but he made it clear he intended to have the cat in his possession. He said he would be back with a court order. He said I had no right to the cat. He made it clear he would come back with the full artillery of the legal system. That’s why I was so desperate to get Pluto to you. I was afraid he’d win custody and…” She faded to silence.

  “And he might kill Pluto,” Marjorie finished. “Chasley is furious because I suspect he did something awful to his own sister. Yet he inspires distrust in strangers. You think him capable of destroying a creature I love? A cat, a child. It’s a matter of extremes, isn’t it?”

  “He might never harm Pluto,” Tammy said. “I just didn’t want to risk it. He knows the cat is your heir. Whoever controls the cat controls the money. To be honest, Marjorie, I wasn’t comfortable in that position. If something had happened to you, I would have been lost.”

  Marjorie laughed. “I doubt that, Madam Tomeeka. You underestimate yourself. You would have managed the cat and the money, and you would do good with it.”

  Marjorie had a keen take on my friend. Tammy Odom had no use for riches. She was a woman who made a difference in the lives of people she met. Personal gain wasn’t a term she comprehended.

  “At any rate, Pluto is safe here with you. I hope you both leave this place soon.” Tammy caught my eye above the rim of her teacup and signaled she needed to speak with me alone.

  Tinkie caught the motion. “Tammy, could you and Sarah Booth bring up the rest of Pluto’s things?”

  “Absolutely.” I wasn’t overly fond of tea to begin with.

  We hurried out of the suite. Once we were outside by her car, Tammy pulled me close.

  “I don’t like this. Chasley let it slip that he knows more about Heart’s Desire than the average person. I think there’s something between him and the Westins. Something … dark.”

  That made perfect sense. Of all people, Chasley knew the way his mother suffered guilt over Mariam’s death. He would also have the ability to feed information to the “medium” about his dead sister, about her dress, her demeanor. Details only a family intimate would know. If Chasley was the bastard Marjorie suspected him to be, this all dovetailed nicely.

  “Is he as bad as Marjorie lets on?”

  “He’s so damaged. He couldn’t contain his dislike of Pluto. He’s jealous of a cat, because his mother loves it. Such a desperate need for love can push a person to do terrible things. I believe he would harm the cat.”

  Tammy’s expression told me there was more. “Spill it.”

  “Chasley is incredibly handsome and charismatic, Sarah Booth. And he’s coming here to see his mother. He said he wanted a psychiatric evaluation. I believe he intends to have Marjorie committed. Sarah Booth, if she claims to have seen the ghost of her daughter—”

  “They’ll commit her.” The deviousness of the entire plot became crystal clear.

  “Also, if Chasley injured or killed Pluto, that would be it for Marjorie. She’d be pushed over the edge.”

  She spoke the truth. “How can we protect Marjorie? She’s determined to do this. The séance is tonight.”

  “Keep her away from Chasley. He’ll attempt to provoke her into doing something she’ll regret.”

  “Do you know what it is?”

  “If I knew, I’d have a better idea how to stop him.” Tammy opened her trunk and unloaded a litter box, food, toys, plush blankets, and grooming utensils.

  “What’s that?” I pointed to a spindly rubber toy.

  “Laser light kit. It sends little red dots of light flashing around the room. Pluto loves to chase them. He’s so damn smart, he’s figured out the pattern and anticipates where the light will show up next.”

  That was one wily cat. And my equally clever friend had avoided my question. “What is it you know and aren’t telling?”

  “Sarah Booth, I had a dream.”

  This was not good. Tammy’s dreams were symbolic and unclear, but if we could figure out the meaning, we’d be ahead of the game. Otherwise, tragedy might be our next visitor.

  “What did you see?”

  “At first I saw the gate here at Heart’s Desire. I’ve never been here, so I had no clue about the gate until a little while ago. I recognized it the moment I drove up. Then I was in a hallway here, inside this house. The hallway was dark and narrow. There was a sense of being underground or with something heavy above me. At the end of the hallway was a door to the right.”

  She was perfectly describing the basement of Heart’s Desire and the hallway to the séance room. “Is that it?” I prompted.

  “You were standing in the hallway, Sarah Booth. You were afraid. There was a knocking along the walls. I couldn’t see what it was, but it terrified you. You tried to run, but you fell down.” Tammy gazed into the distance. “I’m sorry, the dream still upsets me.”

  “It’s okay.” I put a hand on her shoulder though she was taller than me. “Tell me.”

  “The thudding sound grew louder, and you know how focus shifts in a dream. In a blink, I was at the base of a staircase and the thudding had gotten much faster.” She inhaled and steadied herself to finish. “Out of nowhere this body came tumbling down the stairs. It was all covered in the same shade of lavender blue in Marjorie’s room. It was like a peignoir, all lace and fluff and frills. But when it stopped at the foot of the steps, I realized it was a woman. She was dead.”

  I hitched a hip onto Tammy’s car to digest what she’d told me. “You think she’s going to die here, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “Did someone push her down the stairs?”

  She held my gaze but didn’t answer.

  “Can I prevent this?” It wasn’t a matter of could; I had to stop it.

  “I don’t have any answers, Sarah Booth. That’s why I’m so upset by all of this.” She picked up Pluto’s necessities. “Be careful. You and Tinkie both. There’s danger in this house. Lots of it. Whether it’s supernatural or human, it doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, you’d be just as dead.”

  We started toward the house.

  “Before I forget, Harold asked me to tell you Roscoe is all you said he was. Harold had to retrieve him from the dog pound. He ate all Mrs. Hedgepeth’s chrysanthemums she put out two days before. It’s still too hot to plant fall flowers, and they would have died anyway, but honest to god, Mrs. Hedgepeth acted like Roscoe devoured her only grandchild.”

  “I warned Harold the whiskered little imp was rotten.”

  “Oh, Harold is delighted. He’s paying at least a hundred dollars a plant but said it was worth every penny to drive Mrs. Hedgepeth nuts. He hasn’t forgiven her for having Sweetie Pie picked up that time.”

  “I need to speak to Harold.” Cece had brought me info on Heart’s Desire, but I had a few more questions.

  “Oh, something tells me you’ll be seeing Harold sooner than you ever anticipated.”

  Before I could press Tammy for more information, the door of the servant’s bunkhouse flew open and Amanda struggled out, dragging what looked like a duffel bag big enough to contain a human body.

  “I won’t take any more crap off that bitch,” she mum
bled as she lurched toward us. She was so engrossed in hauling her belongings, she failed to notice us.

  “Amanda, are you okay?” I asked.

  She almost jumped out of her skin. “No, hell no. I am far from okay. That crazy bitch Yumi threatened to cut off my fingers if I ate a snack. I didn’t have time for lunch. I was busy. We’re not allowed to have food in the servants’ quarters. I got some leftovers from the fridge and sat down to eat and she snuck up behind me and told me I was fired for stealing food.”

  So that was the genesis of the argument I’d heard. A set-to over a freaking snack. She turned back to her chore, hauling the bag toward the employee parking.

  “Hold on a minute.” I blocked her path. “We have some tea and cookies in Marjorie’s room. Come on up and have a snack.” It would fry Palk if he found out Marjorie was feeding the help, or even the fired help. Too bad.

  Amanda gave her bag a giant yank. The strap broke and she landed right on her ass in the middle of the back drive. It was the final straw. Her eyes screwed shut and her mouth opened and a loud “wah-h-h” came out. She reminded me of Lucille Ball, caught in some mad scheme by Ricky.

  “Honey, don’t you cry,” Tammy said. She had the milk of human kindness. I had a classic mental reference box of old television shows and movies.

  “Hey, come on, Amanda. It’s not that bad.” I grabbed one arm and Tammy got the other and we lifted her to her feet.

  “I wanna go home,” Amanda said. “I can’t take it anymore. Everyone here is so damn mean.”

  While we stood in the wilting heat on asphalt, a dark blue Maserati wheeled to the front of the house. We all dropped everything and ran to get a better view of the impeccably dressed man who exited the car. He was movie-star handsome—chiseled jaw, rugged looks, sharp blue eyes. He gave the car keys to Palk. My immediate reaction was to wonder if he was a good kisser. Whoever he was, he radiated sex appeal, even to a gal with a ring on her finger.

  “My bags are in the trunk,” the man said. “Take them to Mother’s room.”

  Palk was a bit taken aback. “Is Mrs. Littlefield aware of your arrival?” he asked.

  “Oh, she will be any minute now. I suspect I’ll be a surprise.”

  Chasley! Chasley had arrived at Heart’s Desire.

  “I told you he was a handful,” Tammy said.

  “You didn’t say he was a blond god.”

  “Inside, he’s ugly as a wart hog. And you keep that in your mind.” Tammy pinched my arm. “You better run upstairs. He intends to stay in his mother’s suite of rooms, and Marjorie needs to be ready to hold the line.”

  “You’re right.” The back servants’ staircase would give me an advantage. “Be careful going home, Tammy. Amanda, get with Cece Dee Falcon at the newspaper. She can help you find another job.”

  With that, I ran. Chasley could not get into Marjorie’s rooms. He would set his mother back in her recovery. And even my most married partner might be vulnerable to his matinee-idol good looks.

  10

  Winded and sweating like a hard-ridden horse, I slammed the door and turned the lock.

  “Dammit! Saint Jude in a chariot!” I wanted to say something more succinct, but Tinkie had been working on me about my cursing.

  “Sarah Booth! Whatever is wrong?” Tinkie rose slowly from the table, where she was sitting with Marjorie.

  “Chasley!” I uttered the name with such horror, I might as well have said plague or Satan.

  Marjorie stood up, her teacup falling to the table with a crash. “He’s here? At Heart’s Desire?”

  “He told Palk to bring his bags to your room. He intends to stay here.”

  “I think not.” Marjorie recovered her dignity with amazing speed. “He will stay elsewhere on the premises if he dares to remain.”

  There was a light rap at the door. I froze. Tinkie swung it open to reveal Chasley with Palk at his heels like a trained dog.

  “Is that so, Mother? I thought you’d want me here for your reunion with Mariam.”

  The cruelty of his remark was such that I reacted without thought. I slapped him as hard as I could across the handsome face. The shock of the blow traveled through my elbow and into my shoulder. Beside me, Tinkie gasped. Palk dropped Chasley’s bags and looked as if he might flee. Chasley held his ground as a red handprint bloomed on his cheek.

  “You will not speak to your mother in that way.” I was so angry, my fear fled. And common sense, too.

  “Well, so Mother has people who defend her.” Chasley’s voice was soft as silk as he assessed first me and then Tinkie. “Are you paid to be here, or do you truly care what happens to my mother?”

  Pluto took that moment to announce his presence. He strolled, or some would say waddled, up to Chasley, looked directly into his gaze, held it for three beats, and then lifted his front paws to Chasley’s expensive pants. He hooked in his claws and then pulled back, an action so deliberate, no one could mistake it.

  “You terrible little beast!” Chasley reacted with a kick at Pluto, which Tinkie countered with a very unladylike knee to the groin. In less than five seconds, Chasley was on the floor moaning. Tinkie grabbed the cat and slammed the door.

  Electric blue sparks crackled in Tinkie’s eyes. “If Chasley attempts to come in this room, I will see to it that he’ll never be able to procreate.”

  “Tinkie!” I was scandalized. She was the head of Delta society. She’d been born and bred to make men feel like conquering heroes, not eunuchs. Outside the door, I heard Chasley moaning. Palk murmured encouragement to get him to his feet.

  I faced Marjorie. It was one thing for our client to talk bad about her son, but another for my partner to damage his manhood. “We had to do something, Marjorie.”

  “Oh, fiddle-dee-dee. She didn’t hurt him. He meant to kick Pluto. He got what he deserved.” She straightened her shoulders. “His intentions are to fight me. I never thought Chasley would come here. I thought I would be safe. Obviously, he means to have a confrontation. I’ll happily oblige. I should have done this decades ago.”

  “We can’t go through with the séance tonight.” I had to reason with her. “If Chasley gets wind of this, if he has evidence you’re trying to talk to the dead, he can have you institutionalized.” There. I’d said it. “He’ll gain total control of your money.”

  “I’m not crazy.” Marjorie dared us to contradict her.

  “I don’t think you are. Tammy Odom is a good friend of mine. She has prophetic dreams. She sees the future. I have my own—” Holy cow. I’d almost admitted to Jitty.

  Tinkie rounded on me. “You have your own what?” Her blue eyes narrowed. “I’ve known for a long time you had a secret, Sarah Booth. Now, tell us.”

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell Tinkie. There were times when I ached to confide in my friend, but what I shared with Jitty was … private. Our bond, our relationship, was not for others to know. If I told, Jitty might disappear. And damn it, I’d come to rely on her. “I have my own set of issues with calling on the dead. You know I’d love to talk to my parents.” I hated serving my best friend a half truth.

  “Oh, Sarah Booth, I know how much you miss them.” Tinkie hugged me, which loaded the guilt even heavier on my shoulders.

  “I do, but the point is, most people don’t believe in mediums or departed people or spirits hanging around. If it came to a mental competency hearing, with the right judge, the right circumstances, Chasley can use this against Marjorie.”

  “She’s right,” Tinkie said. “Marjorie, we can’t give him this ammunition.”

  Marjorie’s chin came up right on cue. “I won’t pass up a chance to talk with Mariam because Chasley might use it against me. I came here to do this, and I won’t be deterred.”

  Oh, great. Now she decided to show the starch in her backbone, when twenty-four hours earlier she was ready to lie down and die.

  A thunderous knock at the door made Tinkie jump.

  “Dinner is served in twenty minutes!”
Palk boomed without opening it.

  “Do I have to go down?” Marjorie asked. Some of her resolve appeared to melt away.

  “Yes,” Tinkie and I said in unison. “You have to face Chasley.”

  “Will you come?” she asked.

  “Tinkie will. I’ll stay here with Pluto.” I didn’t trust that Chasley couldn’t get to the cat, and I never doubted he meant to see that Pluto went to the domain over which his namesake ruled.

  “You’re better at observing people,” Tinkie said. “You go down. I’ll stay with the cat.”

  I didn’t agree with her assessment, but I did want to watch Chasley interact with Brandy and Sherry. And I wanted another chance to scope out Sherry. Except for her séance the night before, I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her. Tinkie believed in her sincerity, even if she still had uncertainties about her talent. I was harder. I hoped to discover if she was a charlatan who ripped off grieving people in the worst kind of way. Tonight would be my chance to evaluate her.

  “Let me change into a fresh uniform,” I said grandly, making Tinkie and Marjorie chuckle. It was a laugh we all needed.

  Our belongings were still in the bunkhouse, and while I was in the servants’ quarters, where Palk insisted we stash our bags, for the sake of expediency, I took a shower and changed. On impulse, I tapped at Amanda’s room. There was no answer, but the door was locked.

  I returned to the main house as the guests were being seated. Sherry and Brandy had taken their traditional seats at the head and foot of the table. Chasley was seated beside his mother, which clearly did not please her. Dinner was roasted duck, sweet potato salad, green beans in a vinaigrette, and a pear tart. After serving Marjorie, I stood behind her chair, awaiting her slightest whim. She was the only one with a personal servant, and she played it to the hilt, requesting that I unfurl her napkin, serve her plate, cut up her duck. She had quite the sense of drama.

  The two country music singers were more than amused by the show. They watched as I wiped the bottom of Marjorie’s water glass before she drank so it wouldn’t accidentally sweat on her.

 

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