“Then who did?”
“Hasell.” I said the name without thinking. It was probably because her time of death was frozen on both our phones that made me jump to the most obvious conclusion. “Maybe she’s trying to tell us something.”
“I guess that would be weird coming from anybody else but you.” Even though her voice trembled a little, I thought I could hear her smile, too. “Do you want me to play with it a little? See if I can make some sense of it?”
“Yes—that would be great. And I’ll do the same as soon as I feed the babies and put them to bed. Call me if you figure anything out.”
“Okay. And you do the same.”
We said our good-byes and I quickly packed up my briefcase to leave. My mother had convinced me that it made sense to bring comfortable walking shoes so I could walk to and from work on days when I didn’t have to drive clients anywhere. I slipped on the pair of flats she’d bought for me, and headed toward the lobby.
“Good night, Melanie.”
I looked up in surprise at Jolly, who still sat behind the reception desk, smiling brightly. “What are you still doing here?”
“Just cleaning up some things. Making my lists for tomorrow.” She stood and came from around her desk, holding what looked like a large photo album. “And your husband dropped this off for you about an hour ago.”
“Jack was here? And you didn’t come get me?”
“You told me that if he stopped by to tell him that you were out with clients. And with your car being gone, he didn’t even have to ask.”
“Oh,” I said weakly, reaching out to take the album, recognizing it as one of Button’s albums Sophie and I had brought over to the house on Tradd Street for Jack. “Did he say why he wanted me to have this?”
“He just said to call him when you were ready to look at it. He’s been trying to reach you, but he says you blocked his number so he couldn’t.” She sent me a reproachful look. “You didn’t really, did you? Of all the—”
“Thanks, Jolly. Good night.”
“You’ll want this,” she said, digging into her large purse and pulling out an empty plastic garbage bag. “Otherwise the album will get wet and ruin the photos inside. You don’t have your car, remember? Or you could call Jack and see if he could come pick you up. It will give you time to clear the air before you get home to the family. And you can apologize for blocking his number.”
She ignored my glare, focusing on putting the album in the bag, while I tried to call Jack again, hanging up before it could go to voice mail. The windows rattled from a series of thunder cracks, the sky letting loose with bullets of rain. “It’s not that far,” I said, pulling up the hood of my raincoat and tucking in my hair. The wind howled, letting me know that an umbrella would be useless.
Jolly moved to the door to open it. “Hurry up before the streets flood again and you have to swim home. I’d come with you to help, but I’m heading in the opposite direction.” As I neared, she sniffed the air. “I like your perfume. Smells like roses.”
“I’m not wearing any.” I didn’t add that I didn’t smell roses, either. “Maybe my housekeeper is using a new detergent.”
“Or you have a guardian angel,” she said with a small laugh.
I took a step toward the door, but she didn’t move, preferring to stand staring at me, a frown forming deep creases along the sides of her mouth. “Tell Jayne to be careful.” She began rubbing her neck as if it were raw with bruises. “And your mother. At least I’m thinking it’s your mother. She looks just like you but is thinner and has a bigger chest. I’m getting bad vibes.”
I forced myself to breathe in and breathe out, my mind trying to work its way through what Jolly had just told me. “Bad vibes?”
She nodded. “Yes, I just learned that last night in my online class. It’s when you pay attention to your instincts and allow them to take you deep down to your real feelings. It’s my first time doing it, so you’ll have to let me know if I was accurate.”
“Sure,” I said through stiff lips. “Good night, Jolly. See you tomorrow.” She opened the door for me, and with my briefcase and wrapped album held tightly against me, I headed out into the pouring rain.
My mother greeted me at the door, taking my coat after I’d dropped my load on the kitchen floor by the door. “You look like a drowned rat, Mellie. It’s a good thing the dogs aren’t here or they’d probably chase you.”
“Thanks, Mother,” I said, kissing her cheek and then those of the babies who were sitting on a blanket on the floor. Their little arms and feet were busy batting at various toys dangling in front of them from a toy mobile on a stand, and I was apparently not enough of a distraction to make them want to stop. “Where’s Dad?”