“Have you ever had Sophie mad at you? Trust me. It’s easier to go along with her. Mostly because she’s usually right. But if you ever tell her I said that, I will never speak to you again.”
She laughed softly, the corners of her green eyes creasing. Although in her sixties, she could easily have passed as my sister. She remained slender but with curves in the right places, and still carried the poise of the opera singer she had once been. Despite being estranged from me for most of my life, she had become an integral part of it and I couldn’t imagine my life without her. “When do the stars get here? I can’t wait to meet them.” She sounded like a giddy schoolgirl.
“I don’t know. As of last week, Harvey and Marc were still working on script changes and changing the filming schedule. Harvey is blaming it on us because of all the delays last December. He said the changes are meant to keep the project on budget, but I have no idea how and they don’t find it necessary to keep us informed.”
My mother frowned. “I told Rebecca to let Marc know that I’m happy to open my house for the stars to stay in. We’re so close by. I haven’t heard back.”
“You probably won’t. I think Marc would like all access restricted, especially from anyone related to Jack. They’ve temporarily converted our carriage house to dressing rooms and with strict orders that no one is allowed to go near them.”
She sighed, reaching up a gloved hand to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “How did it go with Jack last night?”
“Fine. And no, we’re not ‘together’ together.” I took a deep breath, still feeling the sting of Jack’s words. “He said he’s already forgiven me.”
“But that’s never been the problem, has it?”
I looked at her, realizing I shouldn’t have been surprised. Although her sense of touch connected her to the spirit world, her ability to read my thoughts was simply due to a heightened maternal acumen. “No. It’s the trust issue.”
She turned to look back toward my father. If I’d thought she’d give me guidance on what I should do, I’d have been wrong. “You’ll figure it out, Mellie. Love really does always find a way.”
I wanted to tell her that she might be wrong, that Jack and I might still love each other but that wasn’t a guarantee we’d stay together.
“Hello?”
We both turned to the garden path that led from the front of the house, where the tall form of Detective Thomas Riley appeared. He wore his usual beige raincoat, a detective’s nod to a uniform, and he was in need of a hair trim. Although, if pressed, I’d admit it made him look even more ruggedly handsome than usual.
He waved to Jack and my father before turning to us.
“Good morning,” my mother said, and kissed him on each cheek. “It’s been too long. Did you come to see Jayne?”
A flash of pink suffused his cheeks. He and Jayne had become an item right after she’d moved to Charleston because she’d inherited her house on South Battery—along with a rather nasty spirit. Then an argument and Anthony Longo had come between them, ending the relationship. But, my mother and I agreed, not permanently.
“No, I’m afraid not,” he said. “I came to see Melanie.” He pulled out his phone and looked at the screen. “Her text came in around three thirty this morning, which I think accounts for the garbled bits, but after I translated it, I think it said that she wanted to see me.”
I looked at the screen, trying not to squint and glad I wasn’t wearing my glasses so I couldn’t see all the typos. “Yes—sorry. Sometimes when I can’t sleep and I think of something, I go ahead and type a text so I don’t forget. I usually wait until morning to hit send, but I might have been half asleep. I hope it didn’t wake you.”
“No worries. I was up anyway. And I was in the neighborhood this morning and decided to drop by. What did you need to see me about?”
“It’s about the cold case you were working on—Adrienne Hall.”
“I was surprised when Veronica mentioned you were helping her with that.”
Detective Riley had reason to be surprised. His argument with Jayne had been about her desire to go public with her own abilities, to advertise about helping people, the exact opposite of what I wanted to do with my own “gift.” Even our mother had been on board. But the detective had been staunchly against it, saying he’d agree only if she’d go incognito. He wasn’t eager to make Jayne a target. I couldn’t say I disagreed.
“Yes. But just this once. I promised her because she’s my friend, and I really want to help her. Then I’m done.” I held up a finger while I looked around. “Does anybody else hear that?”
“Hear what?” my mother asked, tilting her head.
“That song. It sounds very tinny—like it’s coming from someone’s headphones.”
“That’s funny,” my mother said. “I don’t hear the music, but my feet want to tap out a steady beat.”
My eyes widened with realization. “Hang on one second and let me go get what I wanted to show you.”
I dashed inside to the kitchen, where Jayne was feeding the twins while Mrs. Houlihan stood at the stove, accidentally dropping bacon bits onto the floor for the three dogs.
“Mother wants to see you,” I said to Jayne. “She’s out in the back garden. I have to run upstairs and get something. Mrs. Houlihan, could you please finish feeding the twins?”
“Of course,” she said, beaming at JJ and Sarah.
I kissed the tops of their heads—barely missing a clump of scrambled eggs mixed in with JJ’s thick hair—then ran upstairs to retrieve the Discman and the yearbook. When I returned to the garden, Jayne stood awkwardly in front of Thomas while attempting to form a comprehensible sentence. Growing up in the foster system and being a career nanny had not taught her how to relax or hold a conversation with the opposite sex.
“You’re standing here. With shoes,” she managed to say to Thomas before shooting me an accusatory glance.
“I am,” Thomas said with a grin. “It’s good to see you again, Jayne. It’s been a while. Are you and Anthony . . . ?” He didn’t appear able to finish the question.