She spun around in front of the mirror. Seeing that this was as good as it got, she hurried downstairs to take care of the pooches before leaving. Mavis and Wade were in Charlotte, attending a convention for the owners of funeral parlors, so she’d volunteered to care for Coco, since Frankie was really her dog now. He spent more time with her than with Phil; but lately that was her own doing, for she’d not bothered to answer his calls. Briefly she had a thought: What if Phil took Frankie away from her when she broke it off with him? She’d become so attached to the little wiener dog that she had started letting him sleep at the foot of her bed.
The dogs were lounging under the kitchen table, their favorite place when the kitchen was empty. Bernice was at Robert’s, no doubt searching for recipes. Sophie and Goebel had been called out on their first big psychic investigation job. It was for a young couple who had just purchased an older home and thought it was haunted. Ida had returned to Wilmington to record another segment for The Home Shopping Club, and was due back later in the evening. She’d send her a text message letting her know she had the house to herself, at least for a while.
Toots found the poached chicken, which Mavis had prepared for the dogs, in the refrigerator, along with instructions on how long to heat it in the microwave. “You two are treated like children,” Toots commented as she placed the bowl of chicken in the microwave for ten seconds—Just to take the chill off, the note read. She laughed. They were all madly in love, except for Ida, and their careers had blossomed and taken them all places they would never have imagined in a million years. Life was good, except for the lie she carried with her.
Toots scooped the warm chicken into separate bowls for the dogs; then she rinsed and refilled their water bowls. When they were finished, she opened the back door in the kitchen. Both dogs raced out so fast, Toots thought they might actually take off and fly away.
“Three minutes, you two,” she said, closing the screen. She’d let them sniff, do their business, then give them their nightly treat. By then, it would be time for Phil to pick her up.
Ten minutes later, with the dogs settled for the evening, Toots stepped out onto the veranda. Pleasantly warm, the humidity zilch, Toots thought it was a totally perfect evening. Her night-blooming jasmine scented the warm evening air; the azaleas were in full bloom, their array of colors a burst of brilliance against the deep green shrubbery. She gazed down the winding path, still in awe of the majestic oak trees that bowed over the road leading to the house. This was home. She inhaled the fresh scent of newly mowed grass, courtesy of Goebel, who had developed a new passion for gardening. Just wait until they get “the purple plantation,” she thought. There were so many wildflowers, shrubbery that dated back to when the house was built, and the giant angel oak trees. He would have plenty to keep him busy. Toots couldn’t wait to view his handiwork. Of course, all of this wouldn’t take place if he didn’t buy the house. Hell, she thought about giving it to them for a wedding gift, even though they hadn’t really set a date. They simply said they were engaged, and for now that was enough.
Headlights coming down the drive brought her back to the present. She followed the lights around the curve; and when the car came into view, she realized she’d made a mistake. It was not Phil. While she did not know much about cars, she knew enough to know the purplish red sports car that stopped in front of the house was a classic. A man, someone she didn’t recognize, got out of the car, waiting while the convertible top closed. Another set of headlights directed her away from the sports car. Phil’s reliable silver Mercedes crept down the drive. He stopped far enough away from the car so there could be no question of his car even coming close to this swanky ride.
Dressed in charcoal gray slacks, with a silvery blue shirt, Phil reeked of sexy, Toots thought as she watched him walk over to the veranda. His brown hair looked wet from his shower, and she thought about that time so long ago on their first date when they’d showered at Diamond Head. The night Abby had been abducted. She’d been in such a hurry to leave, she remembered baring it all in front of Phil as she’d hurriedly dressed. He hadn’t seen her nude since. Maybe now was the time, she thought as she felt a familiar pull in the pit of her belly. Abby was right. She still had desires, and right now, Phil Becker was her total focus.
He kissed her cheek, and she inhaled the clean scent of Dial soap and his spicy aftershave. She closed her eyes for just a second, savoring the moment. “I have a guest, and I have no clue who he is,” she said, nodding to the man who was now removing luggage from the passenger side.
“You really don’t know who he is?” Phil asked, his voice a bit stiff.
Toots shook her head. “I guess I should find out, huh?”
With Phil at her side, she walked down the steps and down the drive to the flashy car, which she saw was a Porsche 911, an older model. A classic, she guessed. The man was bent over, searching inside one of the open pieces of luggage, when Toots spoke. “Excuse me?”
“Tootsie?” The man stared at her, apparently baffled.
Toots felt her heart skip a beat. “Daniel Alan?”
He immediately wrapped Toots in a bear hug. He squeezed her so tightly, it took her breath away. She kissed him on both cheeks, pulled his face away so she could get a good look at him, and then kissed him a second time.
“The one and only,” he said.
“This is the surprise of the year. I can’t believe you’re actually here. You don’t look like yourself. . . .” Toots paused, afraid she might’ve insulted him. “I mean, you look fantastic—just not the Daniel I’m used to seeing.”
Taller than she remembered, and certainly thinner than he’d ever been, she raked her gaze up and down, then back to his face. Glossy black hair, now speckled with gray, twinkling cobalt eyes. Daniel Alan is hot, she thought as she smiled at him.
“It’s been a long time,” he said, as if it explained the physical changes.
Phil cleared his throat. “Toots?”
She whirled around. “Oh, Phil, I’m sorry. I am just so shocked to see this young man.”
Phil shot a look Daniel’s way. “And you’re going to introduce me when?” he asked in a tone that let her know he was not happy with the turn of events.
Flabbergasted and a little embarrassed, Toots shook her head. “Phil, I’m sorry. I’m still floored. Daniel, meet Dr. Phil Becker.”
The two men shook hands and gave one another the typical male proverbial nod of acknowledgment, each unsure of where he stood.
“Daniel, Dr. Becker . . . Phil,” she said, letting him know this was not her doctor. “Phil saved your mother’s life last year.”
If there had ever been a stunned moment in Phil’s relationship with Toots, it was then. Relief flooded over him like a ravaging waterfall. He’d thought this handsome, much younger man might’ve been more than a friend to Toots. And he’d been right, just not the kind of friend he thought. He felt as giddy as a kid going to the prom. He shook Daniel’s hand so long that Toots had to pry him away.
“It’s good to meet you finally,” Daniel said. “Mom told me all about you in her letters, and, of course, she can’t sing enough praises, since she believes you brought her back from the dead. I just want to thank you both.” Daniel stepped back, tears shimmering in his dark blue eyes. “I haven’t been the best son. I had to come home to see Mom.” He raked a hand through his glossy hair. “Is she here?”
Toots was in a semi state of shock over the change in Daniel. She was finding it difficult to carry on a normal conversation.
“Your mother is next door with her new friend, Robert,” Phil informed him.
Perplexed, but in a good way, Daniel asked, “Mom has a male friend?”
Toots was surprised that Bernice hadn’t mentioned Robert in her letters, but she must have had her reasons. Should Phil have kept this quiet? It didn’t matter. Daniel was here, and he would meet Robert soon enough.
“Your mother has so many friends—some you know, some you don’t. It will take
weeks for her to introduce you.” That was stretching the truth a bit, but Toots still felt very protective of Bernice. They were as close as sisters, and that would never change. Daniel hadn’t been a perfect son, she knew, but he was here now. That had to count for something. Now the question was: Would Bernice have a heart attack when she saw the new and improved version of her long-lost son?
“Then let’s get started. I drove all the way from Seattle. I’m ready to call it a day,” Daniel said. Toots sneaked a peek at the license plate. Sure enough. Washington State. Bernice never told her she knew where Daniel was, but Toots figured she must have had her reasons. Bernice didn’t have to reveal every secret to her.
“Oh, damn me and my lack of manners. I imagine you’re tired and hungry. I can help with the tired part, but the hungry . . . Well, if you remember, I’m not much of a cook. Phil and I have dinner reservations. I suppose we can add one more person?” She directed her question to Phil. While thrilled that Daniel had come to visit his mother after all these years, Toots didn’t see this as a reason to postpone her evening.
“No, no, you all go ahead. I just want to see Mom, catch up, and maybe have a shower. I drove with the top down most of the way. I’d forgotten how hot it is in the South,” Daniel replied.
Toots wanted to remind him that summer was just around the corner, but she didn’t. If he stuck around long enough, he would soon find out. “Phil, would you come in and fix Daniel an ice tea while I call Bernice?” Toots asked, turning to go inside, expecting the men to follow. She wasn’t sure if Bernice and Robert were bouncing away on his new mattress. No way was she going to say this to Daniel, so a phone call was best under the circumstances.
“I’ll just grab my bags,” Daniel said. He took the smallest piece of luggage, and Phil carried the larger one inside. The two men set them next to the staircase.
“I’ll get that tea,” Phil called to Toots as she raced upstairs.
“Wonderful! I’ll be right back,” she replied when she reached the top of the stairs. Once inside her room, she used the house phone to call over to Robert’s. She hoped Bernice wasn’t taking her advice just now, because it wouldn’t be the greatest time to get frisky with her pal.
Three rings. Four. Five.
They’re probably going at it hot and heavy, she thought. Eight rings. She was about to hang up, when a breathless Robert answered the phone.
“Good, you’re there.” Toots voiced her thoughts before filtering them.
“Toots? That you? Why are you calling? Is everything swell over there? You need to speak up. I can’t hear you.” Robert chattered on like a Chatty Cathy doll.
Poor Robert, he needed a hearing aid and was too vain to admit it. Toots cupped her hand over the phone, speaking louder than normal. “I need to talk to Bernice. It’s important.”
“Come on over. We’ve just finished making the bed with those new sheets. They are so soft. Bernice wants a pink set. I’m going to give them to her for Christmas this year. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Toots hung up the phone. At this rate, she could slip out the side entrance and tell Bernice in person. Quickly, before Robert realized she’d hung up on him, she raced downstairs and out the side door that led to the potting shed, which Pete, her gardener, used to work in before he retired.
With her heels sinking into the grass and slowing her down, Toots removed them; then she ran the rest of the way. She banged on the front door. “Bernice! It’s an emergency ! Open this damn door, or I’m going to kick it in!” she shouted as she continued to pound on the door. Hell, they were both losing their hearing. “Bernice! Get your ass out here now!”
The door swung open. Flushed, Bernice looked like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Toots was sure the cookie jar was Robert’s new mattress, with the new sheets. “Thank God!” Toots said.
“What in the hell are you in such a tizzy for? Robert said you hung up on him. That’s rude, Toots. Even for you. I thought you had manners, but, apparently, I was wrong. Now, what’s so important that you have to come over here and interrupt us?”
Toots raised a brow. “So you are screwing Robert! I knew it!”
Bernice took a deep breath; then she rolled her eyes. “You nasty old woman. I am not screwing Robert. Now. We’re trying a new recipe. He just bought that new conduction stove, and we’re trying it out.”
Toots didn’t care if they were doing “it” on top of the new conduction oven. “Bernice, I want you to listen to what I’m about to tell you, and I do not want you to interrupt me. Do you understand? This is important.”
Bernice crossed her arms. “Go on.”
“Do you feel okay? You haven’t had any chest pain lately or anything I should know about?”
“No, Toots, I haven’t. If I had, I’m sure Dr. Becker would’ve told you already.” Before having her surgery last year, Bernice had given Toots power of attorney, and Toots was privy to her medical history. It still pissed Bernice off to no end.
“He hasn’t. Now listen up. I don’t have a lot of time. Phil and I have dinner reservations at eight o’clock.”
Tapping her foot, Bernice said, “I’m waiting.”
Shit, Toots hated this, but once Bernice was over the initial shock, Toots knew she would be the happiest woman in the world. She just didn’t want the news to send her friend’s fragile heart into another attack. Taking a calming breath, Toots burst out, “Daniel is at the house.” There, she’d said it!
Bernice continued to tap her foot. She pursed her lips, making her resemble one of those wrinkled-up potato-faced caricatures she’d seen at the Cracker Barrel.
“Did you hear what I just said?” Toots demanded loudly, no longer caring who overheard.
“Yes, I did.”
“Well?” Toots leaned as close to Bernice as she could without touching her.
“You’re a mean woman, Toots.”
“Son of a bitch, Bernice! Your fucking son is sitting at my kitchen table, sipping a glass of sweet tea, as we speak, and you’re calling me mean?”
Right before her very eyes, Bernice turned fifty shades of red, then settled on white. “What did you just say?” she muttered, her words barely audible.
“You heard what I said,” Toots repeated.
“You’re really serious, aren’t you?”
“If I weren’t serious, do you think for one minute I would trudge across the lawn wearing these?” She held her green heels up in the air.
Bernice dropped her hands to her side; then she brought them up to cover her mouth. “Oh, my God. For once, you’re not pulling my leg! Woo-hoo!” Bernice shouted, and pounced off the porch like a gymnast bolting off a balance beam.
Toots cackled and took off across the lawn after her.
Chapter 17
Goebel and Sophie parked her newly purchased SUV next to a gray Volvo. “This place feels creepy,” Sophie said.
Goebel hit the key fob unlocking the hatchback. They’d purchased new equipment as soon as they had received the final certificate of occupancy for their new office space for Psychic Investigations. They discussed their plans in private before revealing them to Toots and the gang. Once they were out in the open, it had only been a matter of weeks before they’d located an office and set up shop. Though business wasn’t booming, Sophie didn’t care. For the past five years, since Walter’s death, she’d been having the time of her life. Thanks to the $5 million in life insurance she had received upon his death—the payoff on a policy that she’d worked her ass off to pay for—she didn’t have to worry about finances. She’d invested some of her newly acquired funds; and despite the initial decline in the stock market, she had almost doubled the value of what she had been paid by the life insurance company.
Goebel, being the man of honor that he was, the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with—come hell or high water, marriage or not—had insisted on footing all the expenses when they decided to go into business together. Sophie purchased the S
UV with her money because she didn’t want to continue borrowing Toots’s vehicles. She’d had magnetic signs made up last week with her and Goebel’s pictures, and their business name spelled out in a freaky bloodred scrawl: PSYCHIC INVESTIGATIONS.
Goebel removed three large cables of electrical cords from the backseat. He really didn’t think Sophie needed any of the equipment, but it looked good for the clients. A square black case that held most of Sophie’s electronic gadgets was a must, she’d said. There were meters that measured electromagnetic fields, infrared video cameras, and the ghost box, which she still used, saying that it picked up voices from beyond. Another bag contained holy water, several branches of dried sage, and three cigarette lighters.
Between the two of them, they were able to carry all the equipment to the clients’ front door.
“You ready for this?” Goebel asked before ringing the doorbell.
“Always,” Sophie replied; then she stretched on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.
“Hey, none of that, or we won’t make it past the front door,” Goebel said; then he kissed the top of her head. “Now let’s get this show on the road.”
After the young couple called, Goebel did a bit of investigating on the history of the old place. The mansion located on Legare Street had originally been built in the early eighteenth century. Once a boarding school for daughters of wealthy South Carolina cotton and rice planters, admittance to the elite school meant that one had attained the highest social standing. The school was run by a Frenchwoman, Madame Veronique Louise Barteau. She was known for her firm discipline and strict guidance. Most of all, the girls left Madame Barteau’s School for Young Ladies prepared for their social roles as members of high society. All married within months of leaving the school.
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