Chapter Sixteen
The shrill ring of Sabine’s cell phone cut into their conversation, and Sabine flipped it open, desperate for any possible distraction. Her mind was overloaded, her emotions overwhelmed. This was so much more confusing than she’d thought it would be. And so much more dangerous. She glanced at Beau and Raissa, who were studying her with matched looks of concern, and pressed the Talk button.
“Sabine?” Catherine Fortescue’s voice was the absolute last one she expected to hear at the moment, and the last one she was prepared to speak to.
“Ye-yes.” Sabine pointed to the phone and signaled to Beau and Raissa.
“Sabine, this is Catherine Fortescue. I hope I didn’t call too early.”
“No, Catherine,” Sabine said, trying to keep her voice calm. “I’ve been up for a while.”
“Good, then that means you’ve gotten the message from Mr. Alford about the test results. I can’t tell you how pleased the family is to have Adam’s child with us. I’m sorry we had to jump to legal proof so soon after our first meeting, but now all that unpleasantness is behind us.”
“I understand,” Sabine said, “and I told Mr. Alford that I’d expected to take the test. It wasn’t an inconvenience, I assure you.”
“Thank goodness. I was a little concerned. It’s all so tacky, really. But the reason I called is that we’d like to meet with you to get to know you better and to start working on some of the more unfortunate legal work required to set up your trust fund.”
“Oh no,” Sabine protested, “I already told you I didn’t want any money.”
“The Fortescue estate is quite clear on the rules for heirs. You’re the firstborn child of a firstborn child, and that comes with certain privileges, as well as obligations, I’m afraid. While I certainly have the utmost respect for your wishes, we really don’t have much choice in the matter. Of course, you’re free to do whatever you’d like with the money once the fund is established and transferred.”
“Of course.” No point arguing. She’d just deal with it later.
“If you’re available, we’d love to have you over tonight for dinner.”
Deciding the best possible decision at the moment was no decision, Sabine said finally, “I need to check my schedule at the shop first. If that’s okay, can I give you a call in the next hour or so and let you know for sure?”
“That will be fine,” Catherine replied. “And please feel free to bring your detective friend. Mr. Alford says he has a reputation for being quite a specialist at this sort of family dynamic. He might be able to lend some advice.”
“Thank you. I’ll let him know.” Sabine said goodbye and closed the phone. Beau and Raissa were brimming with impatience. “Catherine wants me to go to dinner tonight to ‘get to know me better and start the legal work for my trust fund.’ ” She looked at Beau. “You’re invited.”
Beau shook his head. “I don’t like it.”
“Nobody likes it,” Raissa pointed out, “but it does present an opportunity for the two of you to get a closer look at the Fortescues in a somewhat manageable environment. The sooner you find out what they’re hiding, the sooner Sabine’s life might get back to normal.”
Beau stared at Raissa as if she’d lost her mind. “How the hell is that manageable? Possibly confronting a killer on his own turf? Especially that turf—isolated doesn’t even begin to describe the Fortescue estate. That’s the quickest way to ensure a call to the coroner in my experience.”
Raissa shrugged. “So go about your normal business and wonder if today is the day, or if it’s going to happen in Sabine’s apartment, or her shop, or this hotel. Since Sabine’s poisoning never got out and Sabine herself hasn’t mentioned it to the family, whoever took that shot at her probably thinks the entire thing was dismissed as accidental. Same with Mildred’s accident in Sabine’s car.”
“Great,” Beau said. “So he’s not on the defensive. Instead, he’s looking for another opportunity to strike.”
Raissa shook her head. “If it is a Fortescue behind this, do you really think he will take a shot at Sabine while she’s on the family estate? Talk about bringing down the house of cards, unless of course he is insane, but then it’s not going to matter where you are or what you’re doing, he’s going to keep trying. And most likely get more desperate. This dinner might be an opportunity to do a little spy work. Especially if one of you could get out of the Fortescues’ sight long enough to do a little snooping.”
Beau blew out a breath and looked at Sabine. “I still don’t like it, but Raissa’s right. We can’t lock you up in this hotel room and wait for another bomb escapade. And at least I was included in the invitation so you don’t have to make up some excuse to bring me along. Not to mention that I’m guessing they won’t be put off forever.”
Sabine nodded and glanced over at Raissa. The psychic mouthed the word “Helena,” and all of a sudden Sabine understood exactly why Raissa was suggesting this was a great opportunity to snoop. And what could possibly be a better weapon than the spy no one could hear or see?
It was inching toward evening and Helena Henry sat propped up on the bed in Sabine’s hotel room, eating her third moon pie since arriving ten minutes before. Sabine wasn’t sure whether she should be amazed or disgusted. However, a critical review of Helena’s current outfit—some leather/spandex, studded combination reminiscent of eighties hair bands—gave Sabine pause. Despite eating the gross national product in carbs, fat, and sugar, the ghost was right. She hadn’t gained a single pound.
Maybe jealousy was a more appropriate emotion, although Sabine wasn’t quite ready to trade in her life for a permanent, calorie-free binge. She looked over at her half-eaten lunch of plain turkey sandwich on the dresser. Yet.
“So are you clear on what I need, Helena?”
“Yepfft…marphmellows sticking…wait.” She chewed a couple of seconds more, then swallowed twice and took a huge breath. “Man, that’s good. I haven’t eaten moon pies in forever.”
Sabine narrowed her eyes at Helena. “Where exactly did you get…no, never mind. It’s better if I don’t know. Do you understand the plan?”
“I’m a bitch, not a moron. I hitch a ride with you and that sexy detective to the nutso house, then take a look around and see if I can find any skeletons in their closets.” Helena straightened up. “Hey, do you think they really have a skeleton in the closet?”
“I hope not. But anything you find that looks suspect, you report immediately back to me. Just no yelling, and for God’s sake, no eating while you’re there.”
Helena frowned. “No one said anything about not eating. Damn. Rich people always have fancy food when they have important company. What could be more important than a long-lost granddaughter? Maybe I could sneak a dessert or a dinner roll?” She gave Sabine an expectant look.
“Absolutely not! I am not going to play distract-people-from-the-floating-roll all evening. You will sneak and snoop and get dirt on these people as if you’re searching for a bottomless pot of red beans and rice. I don’t think I should have to remind you that this is a matter of life or death. And you of all people ought to know what an iffy thing death is.”
Helena sighed. “Fine. You don’t have to go all guilt trip on me. It’s not like I want you stuck here with me. Now, that detective would be a whole other story.” Helena’s expression brightened. “Hey, I don’t suppose there will be a little truck hanky-panky?”
“You don’t suppose right,” Sabine shot back, but the disappointed look on Helena’s face was too comical for her to maintain her stern stance. Finally, she smiled. “But if you’re really good, I might see what I can do about a big pot of gumbo when we get back.”
Helena clapped her hands. “Whoohoo! Can we have beer, too?”
“I don’t know. Can you get drunk?”
“I can try.”
Sabine grimaced. “That’s what I was afraid of.” She was about to follow that up with the no alcohol rule when Beau knocked on the connecting door and poked his head in.
“Are you ready?” he asked. “I thought you were talking to someone on the phone.”
Sabine forced a smile. “Just hung up. Give me a sec and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“Everything okay with Mildred?” Beau asked.
Sabine nodded. “It’s all settled. Maryse is going to stay with her tonight, for which I will officially owe her a trip to New Orleans for a manicure and pedicure because she has to sleep in the stinky hospital in a lumpy recliner.”
“Not exactly a bad deal. I thought you women loved a pedicure.”
“I love pedicures, and if I wasn’t having one with Maryse it would be a good deal, but she takes picky to a whole new level. There was this incident a couple of years ago with a bottle of Purple Passion polish and the local police…” Sabine shook her head. “No, I don’t even have time to explain. I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”
Beau grinned and closed the door behind him.
Sabine gave Helena a stern look. “You will be quiet on the ride over there. I’m not going to give him any reason to think the insanity is hereditary.” Helena nodded and pulled another moon pie from the box. Sabine snatched the pie and the box from her hand. “And no food. It’s not invisible like you, remember?”
Helena climbed off the bed and cast a wistful glance at the moon pie box. “You’re such a grouch, Sabine. What is it about you and Maryse?”
Sabine grabbed her purse and tucked her cell phone in a side pocket. “Gee, I don’t know. There’s that whole someone’s-trying-to-kill-me thing, or the I-can’t-live-a-normal-life-in-my-own-house and my-friends-are-getting-caught-in-the-fallout thing, and hey, we could always throw in getting-haunted-by-the-constantly-bitching-and-eating-ghost-of-the-nastiest-person-I-knew-in-real-life part of the equation.”
“Well, if you put it that way,” Helena grumbled and headed out the door and down the steps to the lobby.
Sabine followed, praying that this whole thing didn’t blow up in her face. Praying that she’d even be around tomorrow to pray.
The drive to the Fortescues was painfully long and silent. Sabine was afraid to say anything lest she give Helena a reason to start sounding off and blow their cover. Beau was suspiciously silent and appeared to be in deep thought. Over what, she had no idea. At this point, it could be anything—her situation with the Fortescues, her earlier cancer announcement, the new information Raissa had provided, their lovemaking the night before, this fall’s football lineup.
She sighed and rested her head back on the seat.
Beau looked over at her. “Anything wrong?”
“Aside from the obvious, no. I was just thinking that a full night’s sleep last night might have been a good idea given what we’re doing now. My mind’s all fuzzy.”
“Whoohoo!” Helena sounded from the back of the car. “Why weren’t you sleeping? Details, woman, I want details. You can start with the bottom half and work your way up.”
Sabine closed her eyes again and clenched her jaw. Do not respond. Do not even look at her.
“I know what you mean,” Beau said. “This whole thing was bizarre to begin with and it just keeps throwing angles at us that I didn’t see coming and can’t seem to fit to anything else. I wish it would all clear up. I have this overwhelming feeling that we’re missing something, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out what.”
Sabine straightened in her seat as they pulled through the massive iron gates of the Fortescue estate. “Well, you’ve got a couple of minutes to figure it all out. Otherwise we’re back to Plan B.”
“There’s a Plan B?”
Sabine looked at the opposing structure and felt a cold shiver rush across her. “Yeah, stay alive.”