Ham Bones

by Carolyn Haines

  “Gabriel.” Graf put his hand on Gabriel’s arm as if to restrain him. “Hear her out.” He turned to me. “Why would she do such a thing?”

  I told him about the palsy she’d been diagnosed with, about the effects, and the ultimate conclusion. “Renata didn’t want to die like that, Graf. And I don’t blame her. Everything she’d worked so hard to become was going to slide from her grasp, degree by degree. She couldn’t have swallowed food. She—”

  “She never mentioned she was sick. She said she was going to retire and live the good life on an island paradise. She said—” He turned away. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, the truth had finally caught him.

  “One of the aspects of the disease is that it makes the person irrational. For some reason, Renata wanted to punish me, and to some extent, Graf, too. She set it up to look like I’d killed her. Robert Morgan helped her do this. I think he must have loved her very much.” As I spoke those hard words, I suddenly wondered how much of an accident Morgan’s death might have been. Had he, too, simply chosen not to live? “I am sorry.”

  I had no desire to hurt Gabriel more, or to malign Renata. Had I walked in her shoes, no telling what I might have done. But I wanted him to know the total truth, so that my name would be cleared completely in his thoughts. Doubt and bitterness can ruin a person’s life, and I didn’t want Gabriel to shoulder that in regard to me.

  Graf came and put his arm around me. “How did she get this disease?”

  “No one knows. Like so many other unfair things in life, it happens to someone out of the blue. Or at least the medical experts don’t know the reason yet.”

  Gabriel leaned against the fender of the Porsche. He was pale, and when he rubbed his forehead, his hand was shaking. “That doctor she was visiting in Los Angeles. He wasn’t doing plastic surgery, was he?”

  I shook my head.

  “She was sick, and she didn’t tell me. She made me believe she was abandoning me yet again, going off to her secret place on Tahiti. So I’d hate her. She did that because she knew she was going to die, and she didn’t want me to know.”

  It may have been the last act of kindness Renata was able to perform. “She was trying to protect you, Gabriel. She was your big sister.”

  “You could have gone to prison for something you didn’t do.” He sat up taller. “That’s terrible.”

  “That didn’t happen. I’m okay.” Now who was lying to the man?

  A cold wind gusted down the street and dead leaves swirled around us. The storm was getting closer. The leaden sky promised cold rain and the howling of wind. I desperately wanted to be at Dahlia House. “I have to go. There are things that must be done, and I have to get busy.”

  “What about the screen test?” Graf asked.

  “I don’t know.” I couldn’t make that decision right then. I couldn’t.

  “I’ll check on you later tonight.”

  I nodded and walked away before I couldn’t contain my tears.

  Lightning forked across the dark sky and I stood in the barn with Reveler and Miss Scrapiron. Sweetie had caught the scent of a rat in the hayloft and was busy tunneling her way through the sweet-smelling bales I’d stored.

  Reveler arched his neck and leaned across me to gently nibble Miss Scrapiron’s mane. He was grooming her, a gesture of friendship. The animals were unperturbed by the thunder and lightning that signaled the impending rain. When it hit, it came with a roar, echoing off the tin roof of the barn and creating an ear-ringing din. Rain sluiced from the roof like waterfalls.

  The storm was wonderful, fresh and clean. I loved the smell and the sound, especially when I was safe and dry and standing between two horses that munched hay in such a comforting manner.

  Sweetie set up a howl, and I hoped the rat escaped. After my experiences, I had pity for all creatures trapped by fate.

  Reveler lifted his head, ears pricked forward. Something outside the barn had caught his attention. I strained to see into the darkness, and I caught my breath when a large form stepped from the shadow into the light.

  Coleman threw back his rain slicker and walked toward me.

  If I’d had a gun, I might have shot him. Since my only weapon was words, I chose to hold my ammunition.

  “I owe you an explanation,” he said. “And a lot more.”

  I’d waited two weeks for this, but suddenly I didn’t want to hear it. I’d made my decision. I’d stepped down a path that no longer ran parallel to Coleman Peters. Right or wrong, I wasn’t turning back. I shook my head. “You owe me nothing, Coleman.”

  “Connie is—”

  I held up a hand to stop him. “Please don’t say another word. I don’t want to hear it. I can’t. I can’t consider the many factors that go into your behavior. I can’t think about Connie’s tumor and your obligation to her. I’ve been a fool.”

  If I’d shot him, the effect couldn’t have been more painful. He took a breath. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Oh, I would doubt myself in the future. I would question this decision, and my truth would shift and skitter around in my heart. But I hung onto what I’d come to feel was my truth. Doc was right. Love couldn’t save anyone, least of all me and Coleman.

  “Sarah Booth, you’re breaking my heart.”

  One look at his face, and I knew he wasn’t lying. Coleman wasn’t a man who spoke the words a person wanted to hear. “I know. I’m sorry.” I swallowed anything else I might have added.

  “I only want you to hear one thing. I charged you with the murder because the district attorney was making noises about calling in the Mississippi Bureau of Investigation. I charged you to keep the case from being snatched out of my hands. Had the case gone to them, I wouldn’t have been able to investigate properly. I was afraid you’d end up in jail for weeks while they put together a case based on emotion and supposition. I had no faith they’d get to the bottom of it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” One sentence. One brief phone call could have helped me guard myself from the hurt that had finally broken my heart.

  “It had to look like I meant it. If there’d been one glimmer that we were in collusion of some sort ...”

  “Yet you risked it all at Harold’s party.”

  He took two short breaths. “I saw you up on that stage, and I knew I’d lost you. You’re too fine an actress not to give it your best shot. You were born to act, Sarah Booth. The realization that you were gone—I lost my head. I thought if I could make you understand how much I loved you, somehow, magically, things would change.”

  I didn’t try to stop the tears. We’d been star-crossed from the first. Only a fool would have given us a chance, but it didn’t stop the pain. I turned into Reveler’s neck and sobbed. When I looked up again, Coleman was gone.

  The phone was ringing when I walked inside. Caller ID told me it was Tinkie, so I picked up.

  “Are you okay?”

  Somehow, she knew. Tinkie had that radar that comes with close friendship and love. “I am.”

  “I got a call from Graf. He’s worried about you.”

  “I don’t want to see him right now.”

  “I understand. And he does, too. You know, he loves himself a lot, but I think he has big feelings for you, too.”

  A smile pulled at my mouth. Tinkie had a way of putting things. “Feelings aren’t always good things, Tinkie.”

  She hesitated. “I’m meeting Bobbe and her husband the rock star, Kristine, and Gabriel at The Gardens for a drink. Would you join us?”

  “They’re all still in town?” I figured they’d all be far from Zinnia.

  “They decided to stay until you were cleared.”

  I found another reason to tear up. “That’s amazing.”

  “You’re amazing, Sarah Booth. Whatever happens, I’m right beside you. I’ll swing by and pick you up, if you’d like.”

  The storm had passed. Sweetie was in the kitchen eating broiled chicken tenders. The only thing I really wanted was a long ho
t bath and my bed. “Can we meet for breakfast tomorrow with Cece and Millie and all of them?”

  “It’ll have to be early. Bobbe has a morning flight out of Memphis and Kristine and Gabriel will head out on that cross-country drive.”

  “And Graf?”

  “I get the impression he’s not leaving Zinnia without you.”

  “In the morning then. Bright and early.” I loved her even more because she didn’t ask about Coleman. She accepted that I knew what was best for me, even if she might disagree with my decision. “I love you, Tinkie.”

  “Right back at you.”

  I climbed the stairs and went straight to the bathroom to draw a tub. I was leaning over the old claw-foot bath when I noticed a second reflection in the water. Jitty looked like she was going to a ball.

  I turned slowly, taking in the beautiful dress and the elegant way Jitty wore it. She looked as if she’d stepped out of a picture from the past.

  “Another ball?” I asked.

  “Hard to give up the habit once it grabs you. Nothing like a Virginia Reel to set a girl’s heart to going pitter-pat.” She sat down on the toilet, her skirts rustling and crowding me back against the wall.

  “You knew all along that Renata killed herself, didn’t you? That’s why you told me the story of great-great-grandmother Alice and Bethelyn Caldwell.” I’d given that story some thought after Coleman left me in the barn.

  “I suspected.”

  “Couldn’t you just have come out and told me?”

  “You knew all along, too, Sarah Booth. You knew Renata had grown forgetful and erratic and bitter. Bobbe told you that her expression had become brittle, that she didn’t show emotion when Kristine threw water on her. You knew. You just didn’t want to believe that someone so young and vital could be dying.”

  “Death is no respecter of age. I know that. My mother was only a few years older than I am now when she died.”

  “Intellectual truth isn’t nearly as real as heart truth.”

  I got up and went into my bedroom. Lying across my bed was the beautiful white dress from Le Chic. Beside it were the sling-back shoes and a beaded white purse. Tinkie had been at work.

  There was also a note, and I picked it up and read it.

  “Good luck in Hollywood, Sarah Booth. Knock ’em dead, and then come home to your family. Love, Tinkie, Cece, and Millie.”

  Beside the note was an airline ticket, booked for the day after next into LAX. It was open-ended on return.

  I picked up the dress, and the light from the bedside lamp caught the tiny crystals embedded in the material.

  “That’s a mighty fine dress to sashay around Tinseltown in.”

  “Tinkie has exquisite taste.” I couldn’t look at Jitty. I hung the dress in the closet and felt the pressure of tears. “I don’t think I can leave.”

  Jitty’s laughter was gentle, like the rustle of leaves in the sycamore trees on a bright summer day. “You’re not leaving us behind, Sarah Booth. We’re all in your heart.”

  “Jitty, if I go out to Hollywood, and I really need you, will you come?”

  She pondered my question. “This is my home, Sarah Booth. My bones are out there in the cemetery with the rest of your family. I don’t like to be too far from my bones.”

  I caught the glint of the devil in her eyes. She’d never cared about bones before now. “You’ll come. If I really need you, I know you’ll come.”

  She shimmered, translucent as she began to fade. “Remember, you set out to let go of the past.”

  “Why is it that life never turns out the way I think it will? I did set out to let go of the past. I meant to leave behind all the sadness of loss, but all I’ve done is lose Coleman.”

  “And found a dream.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Only time will tell, Jitty.”

  “Give my regards to Halle Berry. I think we look something alike, don’t you?”

  Her laughter echoed softly from the walls of my bedroom. I undressed, sank into the bath, and let the warm water wash over me. There were decisions to make, details to attend to, and dreams to spin.

  But for this one night I was going to sleep in the bed of my childhood in the room where I’d once been safe from all dangers and bogeymen. For one more night, I’d pretend that the past was alive, and it was a place where I could hide. In the morning, I’d deal with whatever I had to.

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

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  Copyright © 2007 by Carolyn Haines

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

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  ISBN: 978-0-7582-7483-0

  First Kensington Hardcover Printing: July 2007

  First Kensington Mass Market Paperback Printing:

  June 2008