Chapter 20
B
ernice picked the perfect day to stay home. After Saturday night's creep show, Toots didn't want her there. She didn't want to be responsible for causing her to have a heart attack.
They'd actually had to use smelling salts to bring Ida out of whatever sort of trance she'd been in. She swore she had no memory of writing, no memory of passing out. Toots wasn't sure if she believed her or not. What she was sure of was that there was nothing funny about it anymore. It was all too real.
Toots finished making the first pot of coffee, then stepped outside for a smoke. She and Sophie hadn't been smoking nearly as much as they normally did, which was probably a good thing. Even though she liked to smoke, she knew it wasn't healthy. At sixty-five, almost sixty-six, Toots figured quitting at this stage of the game would be nothing more than slow torture.
“What are you doing up so early?” Sophie asked.
Toots almost jumped out of her skin. “Damn you! Don't you ever sneak up on me like that again. And for your information, I get up at five every day, sometimes earlier. I'm smoking.”
“Well don't be stingy,” Sophie said.
Toots removed a cigarette from the package and lit it with the tip of her own. She passed the cigarette to Sophie.
For once, they were quiet, each lost in her own thoughts. The previous night still lingered in the early morning air. It was as if Thomas were still lurking around, just waiting for their next move.
They sat that way for a few minutes longer; then Toots stood and stretched. “I'm going inside. The coffee is ready.”
Sophie followed her back to the kitchen. “Pour me a cup, too. Add extra sugar. I need a spurt of energy.”
Toots dumped the contents of the sugar bowl into Sophie's cup, thinking it would serve her right for sneaking up on her. She carried both cups to the table. “You think Ida will be okay?” Toots asked. “She really gave me a scare last night.”
“Me too. I think that physically, she's fine. I don't know if this will have a residual effect on her mental status. I sure as hell wouldn't want to send her back into the land of germs.”
“I really believe Ida is truly over that now. What do you make of the writing?” There. She'd said what had been bothering her all night. It wasn't the fact that a spirit had entered her house; she could live with that. It was the fact that Thomas's ghost, or whatever the heck it was, had said, “My daughter. My daughter. My daughter.”
Sophie took a deep breath. “I think Thomas went to the grave with a lot of secrets. I feel sorry for Ida, but don't you dare tell her I said that, or I will kick your saggy butt.”
“You won't have to keep that promise,” Ida said as she entered the kitchen. Normally, she wasn't an early riser, so both Sophie and Toots were surprised to see her up already. “I don't want you to feel sorry for me, either. So there.” Ida poured herself a cup of coffee and joined them at the table. “Mavis says she'll be down later. She's making arrangements for a small factory to produce her mourning clothes. She's really cornered the market. I bet Mavis is going to end up being a rich old woman just like we are.”
“I can't believe you actually referred to yourself as an old woman,” Sophie said.
“If it's any consolation, I don't think like an old woman.”
“None of us do,” Toots said.
“You need to quit avoiding the subject. I think we need to talk about what happened last night,” Sophie said.
“I don't like you when you're serious,” Ida said.
“Me either, but I really want to discuss what happened last night. This isn't some silly prank, Ida. This is for real. You want to see those papers you scribbled? I have them right here.” Sophie got up and walked over to the counter, where she'd left them before joining Toots for a smoke out on the porch. She placed them on the table, in front of Ida.
Hesitantly, Ida reached for the papers. She scanned them, then shoved them across the table. “It doesn't make sense. We never had a daughter.”
Sunlight filtered through the kitchen windows, casting a golden glow on the polished wood floors. The scattered red and green throw rugs were faded, their color dull from too many washings. The red cabinets needed a new coat of varnish, too.
Toots got up to refill their cups. “Anyone want a bowl of Froot Loops?”
Ida and Sophie declined her offer.
Toots removed a large box from the pantry, took the milk out of the refrigerator, then grabbed a bowl and spoon, bringing them to the table. “Don't watch me eat. It makes me nervous.”
“Whatever,” Sophie remarked before directing her attention back to Ida. “I really think this is something we need to look into. You said Thomas died from eating tainted meat. Did the authorities ever check the source where the meat came from?”
“Of course they did. It was that nasty butcher shop where they washed old chicken and repacked ground meat.”
“Who did your grocery shopping?” Toots asked.
“What is this? The Spanish Inquisition? I bought groceries. Sometimes. I had a housekeeper, Lucy. She would go to the market now and then. We dined out most of the time. With Thomas's work, it was a requirement. The police asked me all these questions. They were satisfied with the answers. As horrid as it sounds, I had an autopsy done on Thomas. His intestines were full of that E. coli bacteria. He'd been sick for about a week. He'd just returned from a business trip. I can't remember where, but at first he thought he had the flu. Then he remembered he'd eaten that steak right before going away on his last business trip. Why would anyone want to do away with Thomas? He was a bit dull, but he was a very good husband and an excellent provider. Thomas didn't have a lot of friends, at least none that I know of, but he was very well respected in the medical community. You're making too much of this.”
Sophie shook her head. “Remember, you're the one that wanted to do this. You're the one who about jumped out of her skin when you saw those words dripping on your bathroom mirror. You're the one who asked me if I would try and make contact with Thomas. I did, and now you act like it's nothing. Well, it is something, and you need to acknowledge that.”
“In fifty years of friendship, I don't think I've ever heard you talk that long without cussing or making fun of someone. I am sure this is a new side of you. And, like Ida, I'm not sure I like you this way,” Toots said.
“I second that.”
“Joke around all you want. What if something really did happen to Thomas? Do you want that on your conscience? I know if it were my husband, I would want to know.”
“And what if it did? What are we supposed to do about it now? I don't know if I can stand an investigation of this sort.”
Toots wasn't going to say it, so Sophie figured it was up to her. “What do you think those words
my daughter, my daughter, my daughter
meant? Do you think Thomas was giving you a message? Is it possible he has a daughter?” There. It was out in the open. Sophie wouldn't be the least surprised if Thomas had left a daughter somewhere along the way. Many times, she and Toots had had their doubts about Thomas's fidelity.
Ida looked as though she had been slapped in the face. “Don't you think that if Thomas had a daughter, I would know? I certainly don't remember giving birth to a child. Don't you think that is something I would remember?”
Sophie wanted to shake some sense into Ida. “I know that
you
never gave birth to a child, Ida. I'm not that stupid. Is it possible that Thomas could've had a child with another woman? Maybe when he was younger, before you met? Didn't you have a whirlwind romance right out of college?”
“I was working as a photographer when I met Thomas. His company actually hired me to do freelance shots for some brochures they were printing. We hit it off right from the beginning and married a few months later. What's the big deal? We were married for nearly forty years. Not many can say that these days.” Ida tossed her hands up in the air. “What is it you want me to say?”
“I don't want you to say anything. I just want you to acknowledge what happened last night. I want you to accept there may be a possibility that Thomas does have a daughter out there somewhere.”
“Okay, for the sake of argument, let's say Thomas does have a daughter. What am I supposed to do about it? Welcome her into my home with open arms? Sing her a lullaby?”
“Don't think I'm nosy by asking this question, but it needs to be asked. Just how many millions did Thomas leave you when he died?” Sophie asked.
Flustered, Ida answered, “I really don't know. I would have to ask my banker. Certainly there is enough to live on for the rest of my life without worrying about my next meal. Why do you ask?”
“Because if Thomas does have a daughter out there somewhere, she might want to get her hands on Daddy's pocketbook. Are you getting the picture now?”
The stricken look on Ida's face was pitiful. It was clear that she'd never given any thought to the possibility of Thomas having been unfaithful.
Chapter 21
T
oots placed a call to Abby as soon as Ida and Sophie went upstairs. Even though it was three in the morning in California, Abby picked up on the first ring.
“Hi, Mom. What are you doing calling me at this obscene hour? Did you and Sophie get into a fight?” Abby asked.
“I've been up for hours and knew you would be, too. Like mother like daughter. I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you. How is man's best friend?”
“Chester is heartbroken. Ever since you whisked his woman away, he's done nothing but pout.”
“I didn't realize dogs pouted. I learn something new every day. Poor Chester. He and Coco were quite the couple. Have you been to the beach house to see Chris yet?”
“I was there the other night. He invited me for dinner. I brought Chester. We had a great run on the beach. I met his college buddy, Steve. Nice guy.”
Toots could hear the happiness in her daughter's voice, and her heart swelled with pride. Abby was the best daughter a mother could ask for. She'd been easy from the beginning. Three hours in labor, she came into the world with a little cry. At two months, she slept through the night, and at nine months, she took her first step. Toots remembered every single milestone of her daughter's life. Mothers were supposed to take note of that stuff.
“It sounds like you're getting along just fine without me, which is a good thing because I may be here longer than I thought.”
“You
live
in Charleston, Mother. Of course you're going to be there for a while. Los Angeles is just your . . . hangout.” Abby laughed.
“How are things at
The Informer?
” Toots knew already, of course, as she checked her e-mail daily. As the power behind LAT Enterprise, it wouldn't do for her to miss an e-mail. Who knew when something super-duper important might happen that would require her attention?
“Great. We're ranked at number two now, just below
The Enquirer.
Not a bad place to be in this business. Though I have to admit, I'm running out of stories for my column âGhostly Encounters.' I doubt I'll ever top the Marilyn Monroe thing, anyway. Vampires are all the rage in Hollywood now. I need to search for a Dracula look-alike.”
Toots smiled. “It's all those crazy movies, and I absolutely refuse to watch them. When I was a young girl, I was terrified of vampires and werewolves. Bela Lugosi, I'll never forget him. He starred in the first Dracula movie.”
“Mom, is there something you wanted to tell me? It's late, and I'm tired.”
“Oh, Abby, I'm sorry. You should hang up on me when I ramble. No, there isn't anything I wanted to tell you. Just wanted to hear your voice. Night, night.”
“Good night, Mom,” Abby said, then clicked off.
She'd rambled on so much, she'd forgotten to tell her about the bakery. It would keep until later. Before she could change her mind, Toots placed another call. This one to Chris. Just in case there was something to this Thomas poison theory, she wanted to make sure Ida was out of harm's way.
Five rings, then his voice mail picked up. “This is Toots. I have a favor. I always say that, don't I? And I love you.” She hung up the phone, slightly annoyed at herself. It seemed the only time she called Chris was when she needed a favor, a bit of legal advice. She made a note on her ever-present mental shit-to-do list to stop asking Chris for favors all the time. He really would think of her as his wicked stepmother if this continued.
After seven, Toots hurried upstairs to shower and dress. She hated wasting one minute of her day. She wasn't sure what the girls had planned, but whatever they had, it was bound to be something out of the norm.
She dressed in a faded pair of Levi's she'd owned forever. A dark green blouse complemented her auburn hair. She pulled her hair up, securing it with a dark green hair clip. More blush than normal, as she looked washed-out, tired. Who wouldn't, she thought, after last night? A swipe of coral lipstick, and she was good to go.
Downstairs, she was greeted by Mavis, who was about to take Coco out for a stroll.
“Want to come with us?” Mavis asked.
“I'd love to.”
Again, Mother Nature had worked her magic, Toots thought as she and Mavis dragged Coco to the back lawn. The azaleas and camellias painted the landscape with an array of brilliant colors. Magnolia and oak trees provided just enough shade from the sun. Toots couldn't imagine a more serene place. It was spring, a time of renewal, and new beginnings. She inhaled the misty morning air, catching a whiff of her favorite night-blooming jasmine. Mother Nature's perfume.
Content to sniff and inspect the variety of shrubbery, Coco led them along a stone pathway Toots and Abby had constructed when she was in high school. Each stone had its own story, a memory. Toots wouldn't have traded the old rocks for solid gold.
“I don't know when I've seen you this happy,” Toots commented.
“I don't think I've ever been this happy!” Mavis exclaimed. Her sparkly blue eyes shimmered with excitement. “I'm really a totally different person than that potato-chip-eating, soap-opera-watching, obese woman that I was a year ago. I don't even have the same thoughts anymore. I suppose that's a good thing.” Mavis chattered away, and Toots simply listened. A quiet moment with a dear friend on a day exploding with possibilities was one to treasure forever.
Coco spied a squirrel in an oak tree, stopping to growl, revealing tiny white teeth and pink gums. Toots was sure that Coco was more frightened than the squirrel.
“No, Coco,” Mavis said. “Mind your manners.”
The back door slamming jolted Toots and Mavis to attention. Sophie came running down the path, portable phone in her hand. Huffing and puffing, she held the phone out for Toots. “It's Jamie. She says it's an emergency.”
Toots took the phone from Sophie. “Hi, Jamie. What's up?”
“It's a disaster, a total and complete disaster! The place was ransacked, with flour dumped everywhere! My baking sheets are ruined! The display case was shattered! I don't know what to do! I called the police. They came and wrote a report. They said no businesses in the area had been vandalized except ours. I guess I just need a shoulder to cry on. I really don't know what to do.”
“Oh no. Are you at the bakery?” Toots asked.
Sobbing, Jamie answered, “Yes. I had to let my apartment go. I wanted to tell you, but it didn't seem appropriate after all you've done. I've been camping out in the kitchen at night, scrubbing up in the ladies' room. It's not that bad, really. Or at least it wasn't until this . . . this catastrophe!”
Toots remembered thinking right after Leland died how boring her life was, that she needed some excitement. It seemed she was getting her wish and then some. “Stay there. I'm on my way. And, Jamie, don't worry. I'm very good at fixing things.” She gave the phone back to Sophie. “I'm going to the bakery. It's been vandalized. If you want to come along, meet me out front in ten minutes.”
Toots raced back up the stone path as though her life depended on it. Inside, she grabbed her purse and cell phone, found Ida pouring coffee in the kitchen. “I'm going into town. The bakery's been trashed. If you want to go, meet me out front in ten minutes.” Toots said this as she raced through the house, searching for her car keys. Finding them on the counter, next to the creepy scribbled papers from the previous night, she scooped them up and raced to her Lincoln. She looked at her watch. She'd give the girls the allotted ten minutes; then she was leaving. She slid behind the wheel, waiting, thinking again that it was a good day for Bernice to stay at home. If she got wind of the bakery incident, the whole haunted-witch-ghost theory would be rehashed again and again. Toots didn't even want to go there.
Mavis, Ida, and Sophie, along with Coco in her carrier, came out the front door with one minute to spare. Toots hit the automatic unlock button. Sophie rode up front, with Ida and Mavis in the backseat. Mavis placed Coco's carrier between them.
Toots broke the speed limit, crossing her fingers that a patrol officer wasn't hiding in a copse of trees, as they were known to do. They all remained quiet on the ride to the bakery, each content with her own thoughts.
Half an hour later, Toots lurched the giant vehicle in between a compact car and a Harley. She practically sprang out of the car. The girls trailed behind.
The door was locked, and Toots tapped on the glass. She cupped her hands against the glass, trying to look inside to access the damage. What she saw made her cringe.
Jamie hurried to unlock the door. Toots was amazed that it hadn't been shattered. Poor Jamie looked deflated. Her perky blond hair was dull, flattened against her head. Azure eyes were shadowed. She was covered in flour. Had the situation not been so disastrous, Toots would've laughed. Not giving it a second thought, she wrapped her arms around Jamie, just as she would if it were Abby.
“Thanks for coming so quickly.” Jamie raked a dusty white hand through her hair. “I've cleared a path, but be careful. There's broken glass everywhere.”
Toots assessed the damage as she followed Jamie through the bakery. Hundreds of pounds of flour looked like volcanic ash. Cookie sheets were crunched in half; giant wooden spoons, which Toots knew were used for making pralines, were shattered like Pick-Up Sticks. The large display case was completely destroyed.
“This is the worst.” Jamie pointed to a giant mixer in the corner of the kitchen. “This is the best money can buy. I paid twelve thousand dollars for this piece of machinery. How an eight-quart commercial mixer with a high-torque direct-drive transmission, steel gears and shafts could be so easily destroyed is beyond me. Whoever did this must've had an ax or something.” Jamie shook her head as she showed Toots what was left of a Vollrath commercial mixer. Though she didn't know that much about commercial kitchen products, Toots knew quality when she saw it, and this fit the bill.
“There's more,” Jamie said. “Here.” She stopped in front of two giant ovens. Each held at least a dozen baking sheets. “This is another major expense. The two of them cost more than I'll earn in the next two years.”
Tears brimmed in the young woman's eyes, streaking down her face and leaving silvery ribbons from the light dusting of flour still on her face. Jamie blew her nose on an apron, tossed her hands in the air. “We're totally ruined. Totally ruined.” Jamie plopped down on a wooden chair and bawled like a two-year-old.
Toots stooped down to Jamie's eye level. She brushed a strand of sticky blond hair from her cheek. “Jamie, I've always said things can be replaced, but people can't. This is fixable, trust me. I'm very good at fixing things, and people, too, sometimes.” Toots looked to Sophie, Ida, and Mavis, who remained in the front of the bakery, out of harm's way.
“She is. She's helped every one of us. This will be a breeze for our dear Toots,” Mavis added. “And we're going to do whatever we can to help, too. Right, girls?”
“You're damn straight,” Sophie said, sounding more like the old crude Sophie they all knew and loved.
“I'll do whatever I can to help, too,” Ida chimed in, though she didn't sound as if her heart was in it, but she had other things to worry about. Like a dead husband who might've met his maker too soon.
“Now dry up your tears. We're in this together. Remember, I'm your partner, too. First, I want to know how you managed to sleep through this if you've been living here,” Toots said, not out of nosiness, but out of curiosity.
“I spent the night at the YMCA. I'm so ashamed, but I needed a real shower, and they're free. I guess I should be thankful, but if I'd been here, maybe I would've been able to stop whoever did this.” Jamie started crying again. “Now not only am I out of business, but I'm gonna have to find a place to stay while I take care of this mess.”
“What about your insurance?” Ida asked.
“It will cover some of the damage but not enough to make a difference, certainly not enough to get the place back in operating condition. I can get my old job back at Publix. Thank God I left on good terms.”
Toots was thinking. She needed a plan. She'd helped Mavis out of her dilemma, and so far she remained free. She hadn't heard anything on the news and hoped that this Mr. Jay C. King would accept the ten grand she'd left behind and forget about it. That material Mavis used was a bit on the ugly side as it was. Toots felt sure there wasn't a massive demand right now but knew that there would be soon because Mavis's Good Mourning line was on its way. She felt it in her bones.
Okay, she had a plan. “Did you get a copy of the police report? We'll need that to file the insurance claim.”
What she didn't voice was that she was glad she hadn't been here when the police arrived. Who knew? She could be on their local most wanted list. She made a mental note for her shit-to-do list. Call Henry at the bank. If anyone would know if an arrest were imminent in the warehouse break-in, he would. He might also be suspicious if she was too inquisitive. She'd play that by ear. Later.