"I don't want to talk to anyone." I sank into the passenger seat of my car. Tinkie had the keys and refused to yield them.
"That's today. Wait until tomorrow. I think a photograph of the two of us at Coleman's bedside would play well. We'll have more cases than we can shake a stick at."
"You are the optimist, aren't you?" Something was up with Tinkie. She was her old bubbly self. "Did that doctor give you some kind of happy drugs?" "Absolutely not."
"Then what's wrong with you? You're positively perky." "Sarah Booth, I'll tell you all about it tomorrow, after you've had a chance to rest up."
26
I sat in the barn, listening to Reveler munch his grain. For the first time since Coleman had been shot, I felt my heart settle to its normal position. Sweetie Pie curled at my feet in the hay, and I leaned back against a bale and closed my eyes, inhaling the lingering scent of summer that had been baled in the dried grass. The hospital would call me as soon as Coleman regained consciousness. The doctors and nurses were still under the misimpression that I was his wife, so they swore they'd call. All I could do was wait. And hope that everything would be okay.
"Not everyone you love is going to die."
There was the rustle of silk, and I didn't have to look to know that Jitty had joined me. Never before had she left Dahlia House to venture to the barn. Jitty, with her elegant wardrobe and otherworldly beauty, was not interested in farm life.
"Slow night at court?" I asked, keeping my eyes closed.
"The intrigues of society pale beside the needs of family."
I sat up and looked at Jitty shimmering in the dim barn light. Her gown was truly spectacular, a pale champagne with gold stitching. "I'm okay," I assured her. "You look ready for an audience with the king. Why don't you go on about your business? I'm truly fine."
"Pride is the most dangerous of all the sins, Sarah Booth."
She'd called my bluff, so there was no point lying. Jitty knew me too well, and she could hear the hurt in my voice. "Okay, I'm as fine as I can be with Coleman lying in a hospital bed."
The ball gown rustled provocatively. "Let's take a walk."
Jitty had never been one for voluntary exercise. I rose slowly, forcing Sweetie to stretch and yawn. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
She may have left the court behind, but she was still mysterious. I supposed it was the prerogative of a ghost. I followed her out of the barn and into the chill night. I noticed the Christmas garland I'd used to decorate the banister of the back steps. The holiday was only a couple of weeks away, and I hadn't bought the first gift.
Instead of heading to the house, Jitty turned beside the barn, directing me toward the back pasture. My curiosity was piqued, and I fell in step beside her. It would do no good to beg her for information. Jitty had all the time in the world and wouldn't be hurried.
We followed along the fence, our way lighted by millions of stars and a half-moon strong enough to cast shadows. It was a beautiful, crisp night, and I inhaled the cold air.
"When your mama was worried or tired or unsettled, she'd come out here," Jitty said. "She had a special place where she said she could think more clearly."
I hadn't thought of that in a long time. My mother was a great one for tramping over the land when she was upset. She often said the land was where she found the things that were important, and that a walk over the property cleared her head. My mother had loved Dahlia House and all the land surrounding it with deep passion. When I'd first come home from New York City, I'd almost lost the property to the bank. I'd understood then how much my mother cared for this place, because I felt that love, that connection, as real as blood. Now, strolling beside Jitty, I felt it again.
Walking among the moon shadows cast by the trees, I put aside my fear and felt the comfort of the land. Here was where I belonged. When all else failed, this land was still here, alive and growing, sustaining.
"I knew you'd feel better out here," Jitty said.
"How did you know?"
"It's always worked this way for the Delaney women."
Now that was an interesting twist. The land had been in my father's family, yet it was my mother who'd fallen under its spell. "Only the women?"
She shook her head. "Not only, but most deeply. When things were at their worst during the War Between the States, there were times when Alice wanted to quit. She could have gone back to Charleston, West Virginia, where she had a sister. But she couldn't leave this place. She'd dreamt the dream of the land, and she couldn't leave."
"Is that why you're here, Jitty?"
"This was never my land." She chuckled softly. "No, I stayed for Alice. I loved her like a sister. And now I stay for you."
As we walked side by side, I considered the gift of her presence. She nagged and tormented and prodded, but I'd come to count on her being at Dahlia House. In a sense, she was my family.
"Thank you," I said.
"Keep walking. There's something for you to see."
We passed the family cemetery, the stones cold and gray in the winter night. This is where I thought we'd stop, but we didn't. We walked in silence until we came to a grove of old oaks, limbs spreading out to touch the ground. Acorns crunched underfoot, and the air was cold and pure.
I'd played here as a young child, drawing lines in the dirt to outline my "house," and building roads and dirt towns to gallop my plastic horses over and through. Sometimes, I'd leave my toys, and when I came back the next day, they would be moved, as if some other child had played with them.
"This is the fairy spot." I smiled as I said the words.
"I thought you might remember," Jitty said.
"I loved it when Mama brought me here. In the cool shade."
"This was one of her favorite places on the entire plantation. She found a lot of comfort here."
"She'd let me play while she sat on that tree limb." I pointed, and for a moment I almost saw her, dark hair tied back in a scarf, red lips smiling when I told her about the fairies. She never felt the need to refute my stories, had never tried to make me toe the line of acceptable beliefs. She'd always encouraged me to play and dream. My smile matched the ghost of hers.
"It's a very special place," Jitty said. "There's not a lot of difference between fairies and ghosts."
"Your point is well-taken." I took a seat in the crook of a swooping limb. "Why did you bring me out here?"
"Your mama was a remarkable woman."
"She was, but we didn't have to come out here to agree on that." Jitty normally preferred to have our discussions in the comfort of the house.
"She's never left you, Sarah Booth."
The lump in my throat was instant. "Oh, but she did. She and Daddy both." I'd been twelve when a car accident had claimed their lives.
Jitty shook her head, beautiful pearl earrings dancing in the moonlight. "No, she's here with you now. Both of your parents are here."
The tears I'd bottled up for so long began to fall. "I want them to be alive." And then I realized the genius of Jitty's walk. "I want Coleman to live. I can't bear it if anything happens to him." I was sobbing outright.
"Whatever happens with Coleman, you'll be okay."
I was instantly furious. "That's not good enough. I'm tired of losing everyone I love. I'm tired of death. I'm sick of the pain. Coleman would be in his office, tending to business, if he hadn't tried to save me."
Jitty sighed. "Loving someone means allowing him to be who he is, Sarah Booth. Coleman did what he wanted to do. It's not your place to judge him or yourself."
"Coleman can be whoever he wants, as long as he's alive." I would give him up. I would let him go, if only he wouldn't die.
There was sadness in her voice. "Death is only an extreme form of change."
"Call it by any name you wish, but it is an ending, a conclusion to being here with me. My parents are gone. Coleman is seriously wounded. He could die, and then he'll be gone from me."
Jitty walked slowly through the clearing,
turned, and came back to me. "He's going to be okay."
There was something in the way she said it that chilled me. "Okay? What does that mean?"
"He'll survive the gunshot."
"Survive?" Jitty was playing coy at a game I didn't understand.
"He'll recover from the wound."
I felt the pressure of additional tears. "Are you sure?"
She nodded.
"Thank goodness." Relief swept over me like a gentle wind. "Thank goodness."
"The bullet didn't strike you, Sarah Booth, but you were wounded nonetheless. Keep that in mind. You have to heal as much as Coleman does."
"I'll be fine as long as he's okay."
Jitty only stared at me a long moment and shook her head. "Coleman will not die."
We started back toward the lights of Dahlia House, walking side by side. I could tell by the furrow in her brow that she was worried. "I'm okay," I assured her.
We made it to the barn in silence. "You are the hard-headedest woman I've ever met," she said at last.
"You promise Coleman will be okay?"
She nodded. "Quit worrying about him. There are other things you should turn your attention to. I've learned some things at court."
"I'll bet. What? Excess is best?"
Her smile was sad. "Hardheaded and sarcastic to the end, aren't you?" Her stare became a challenge. "Change is inevitable, Sarah Booth. The art of living is not merely to accept change, but to embrace it. The revolution is coming."
I thought about the little I knew of the French Revolution. It had been a bloody coup fueled by the hunger of the people and the excess of the court. The common man had been aroused to overthrow the monarchy. A lot of people had died. "Don't linger at the ball too long, Cinderella. You'll come home with your head in a basket."
She flickered dimly. "Remember, change is inevitable. It's part of living. Even royalty must bend to change." And then she was gone.
I awoke to the pounding of tiny fists against the front door—and kicking. Tinkie was impatient. Or I'd been deeply asleep. I'd taken one of Dr. Martin's little magic sleeping pills, and I'd turned into a log.
"I'm coming!" I grabbed a quilt off the bed and wrapped it around me as I ran to open the door. Tinkie, dressed in a faux fur-trimmed sweater and leather pants, rolled her eyes as she walked past me.
"It's about time, Sarah Booth. I was freezing my butt off waiting for you to get up and open the door. What's for breakfast?"
I was so glad to see Tinkie, safe and sound and hungry, that I didn't bother to point out that I'd been in a drug-induced coma because I was worried about Coleman. "How about egg sandwiches?" The pickings in my refrigerator were pretty slim since I hadn't been to the store in two weeks.
"Sounds great. There's probably some cheese tucked away in the fridge somewhere, too." She preceded me into the kitchen and started to put on a pot of coffee. I sat at the table.
"I haven't heard a word from Coleman." With Jitty's assurances and Dr. Martin's magic pills, I'd fallen into such a deep sleep that I'd forgotten to worry.
Tinkie turned and frowned. "That's strange. They called me about an hour ago and said they'd called you first."
"How is Coleman?" To heck with the technicalities.
"Up and hungry. He's going to be just fine. In fact, if you'll put some clothes on while I fix breakfast, we'll drive over to visit him."
"Yes!" I danced around the kitchen, my quilt cape flapping behind me. Tinkie tried to look disturbed, but then she smiled.
"This is going to be a wonderful Christmas, Sarah Booth. Just you wait and see."
I didn't have a single doubt. Coleman was going to be fine. Tinkie and Oscar were back on track. Sweetie Pie was circling the table, hoping for a scrap of something to fall her way. Not that her bowl was empty, but human food was always preferable.
"Shall we call Cece?" Tinkie asked.
"Sure."
"Then why don't we just go to Millie's for breakfast, and we can drive to Clarksdale from there."
"Sounds like a plan. Have some coffee, and I'll be changed in a jiffy." Well, not exactly a jiffy. I planned to apply a little make-up, at least. If Coleman was recovering, I didn't want to frighten him back into unconsciousness.
I sprinted up the stairs, turned on the shower, and dragged my favorite black jeans and a jade sweater out of the closet. In a moment I was soaping and scrubbing. I finished in record time, tied my hair back with a scarf that matched my sweater, and bounded down the stairs to meet Tinkie at the door.
"Should I call Coleman?" I couldn't wait to talk to him.
"I think a visit would be better. He can just open his eyes and see you staring down at him, all aquiver for his recovery. That'll be his dream come true."
I slapped her shoulder lightly as I walked around the Caddy and got in the passenger seat. "Where's Chablis?"
"She's with Oscar." When she said her husband's name, her smile softened.
"Things okay in that department?" Her expression told me enough, but I wanted to hear her say it.
"Things are good. We had a long talk last night, and we resolved some issues that had been between us a long time."
"Oscar is somebody." Never in my wildest dreams had I thought that one day I'd be defending Oscar Richmond, wealthy banker. But there was more to Oscar than met the eye. The depth of his love for Tinkie had touched me.
Tinkie spun down the driveway and turned toward Millie's. She glanced at me. "I have something to tell you."
The way she said it made my heart flutter. "What?"
"While you were in recovery with Coleman, I scheduled an appointment for a breast biopsy with Dr. Martin. He's going to do it Wednesday."
"Thank you, Tinkie." I reached across the seat and squeezed her hand. "Thank you."
"I'm perfectly healthy, but I owe it to Oscar and you and my friends to put your minds at ease."
"You don't owe it to us, but I'm glad you're doing it." I felt as if I'd been released by some heavy weight.
"I know I'm perfectly fine, so there's no reason not to do this."
I didn't care how she'd rationalized it as long as she took care of it. "I'll drive you over."
"Oscar's going to do it."
I nodded. "Perfect. Once that's taken care of and we get Coleman home, life will settle back into a normal pattern."
She laughed. "You are an optimist, aren't you? The only normal pattern around you is chaos and lots of danger."
Although I didn't react, her words cut me to the quick. What she said was true. In the past year, I'd found myself in several life-threatening situations, and wherever I went, my friends tended to follow.
"Did I say something wrong?" She pulled into the parking lot at Millie's and stopped the car.
I shook my head. "I have a lot to think about."
"About Coleman getting shot?"
I nodded. "I rushed out to Virgie's to save you because I wanted to show you I could come to the rescue. It was my fault Coleman got shot."
Her laughter was full and merry. "You are such an egotist, Sarah Booth."
In the space of twelve hours, I'd been called hard-headed by Jitty and now an egotist by Tinkie. What was this, Kick Sarah Booth Day? "Why would you say that?" I asked.
"Because it's true. You think everything that happened is because of you. Coleman was there to save me, too. I'm not chopped liver, you know."
It was true. Had I not even been involved, Coleman would have risked himself to save Tinkie. Even though she'd insulted me, I felt marginally better. "But you wouldn't have been held hostage were you not working with me."
"Maybe, maybe not. I might have started a PI agency on my own. Or I might have insulted Virgie in some other way. But that's not even the point, Sarah Booth. Sometimes you are so dense!"
Add dense to the list of insults. "What is the point?"
"You are a vital part of my life. And Coleman's. But you aren't the sun that we revolve around." She circled her finger around her head. "It isn'
t all about you. How can it be that you made me see that about my breast lump, and Oscar see it about his concern for me, but you can't see it yourself!"
"But if I'm responsible—"
"Good lord!" She sucked in her lip and let it pop out in a gesture that made men so weak-kneed they had to sit down. "If I was nominated for a medal for solving this crime, you'd never consider thinking that you were somehow responsible. You don't try to assume credit for my actions, so for goodness' sakes, don't try to assume the blame."
Tinkie had a way of making things clear to me. 'You're right."
"The same is true for Coleman. He chose to be there. He chose to provoke Virgie to give Humphrey a chance to escape. He made a choice and acted on it. You're simply not involved."
"Okay." I felt a good bit better. In fact, my ego had shriveled, and my appetite had returned. I was starving. "Let's eat and then go see Coleman."
"At last, you say something with merit." She got out of the car and led the way to a back table at Millie's, where Cece was already waiting for us.
"Dahlings," Cece said, waving her coffee cup. "Congratulations! I've been fielding calls all morning long from newspapers across the nation. Everyone wants an interview with the two daring private eyes who nabbed a serial killer."
Millie brought two steaming mugs of coffee and gave both me and Tinkie a hug. "Good work, ladies. The Delta is a safer place now that that homicidal maniac is behind bars."
"Thanks," Tinkie and I said in unison as we sat down.
"I got a statement from Coleman's doctor this morning," Cece continued. "He's going to make a full recovery. No permanent damage at all."
My grin went from ear to ear. "That's wonderful. When can he come home?"
"Tomorrow."
"That's even better." I had a sudden vision of him installed in my bed at Dahlia House while I made chicken soup and kept him warm.
"We're going to visit him when we finish here," Tinkie said.
"So, tell me everything." Cece brought a pad out of her purse. "True crime is not generally the province of the society pages, but I'm going to angle the story at two female private investigators." She frowned at me. "Sarah Booth, if you'd just upgrade your wardrobe a bit, I could make this a fashion article."
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