Dream a Little Scream

by Mary Kennedy

  “And then sometimes I would just dunk the top of the cupcake into the bowl of frosting,” I admitted as the memory of my mother’s kitchen came into focus. “If I was in a hurry.”

  Ali and Dana nodded their heads sadly. I think they realized they had their work cut out for them. “I can see we have some catching up to do,” Ali said soberly. “That’s okay, we have a couple of days before the cooking classes start. Dana and I can walk you through it.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll pick it up really fast,” Dana said. I don’t think she believed a word of it, but it was nice of her to be encouraging.

  • • •

  “Did you say Lucinda was coming over early tonight?” I was making a fresh pitcher of iced tea and vacuuming the living room in preparation for the Dream Club meeting that was starting in twenty minutes.

  “Yes, she has something she wants to show us. She didn’t want to talk about it over the phone. She said it was something of a surprise and it may—or may not—be significant.”

  “How mysterious. Did she seem worried or upset?” I found myself wishing Lucinda had given us a hint and wondered if her surprise had something to do with the case.

  “No, not at all.” Ali shrugged and lifted Barney off the sofa. “But you never know with Lucinda. It could be nothing; she might want to show us some new drapery fabric. Or it could be something important.” She moved Scout from the armchair to the rug in front of the fireplace. The cats seem to sense when we’re having company and immediately snare the comfiest spots in the room. I always have to go over the furniture with a roll of tape before guests arrive.

  I left a quick message for Noah and arranged some raspberry thumbprint cookies on a plate along with tiny squares of German chocolate brownies. If the brownies were a hit, I planned on adding them to the menu downstairs.

  Noah was something of a puzzle. I hadn’t heard from him in the past few days, and he hadn’t answered my last couple of texts. Was he busy working a case, or was there something going on in his life?

  I was debating what the next step with Noah should be when I heard Lucinda coming up the stairs. I always leave the downstairs door unlocked for our Dream Club guests, and Lucinda called out a cheery hello when she reached the landing.

  “I have something to show you,” she said, her eyes shining with excitement. She pulled a yearbook out of a paper bag. “This was quite a surprise. You never know what you’re going to find when you go poking around in the attic.”

  “What is it?” Ali said, hurrying over. She motioned for Lucinda to take a seat on the sofa and poured her a glass of iced tea.

  “One of my friends taught at Centreville High School, and we retired at the same time last year. She wanted me to see some photos of her retirement party, and she also brought along an old school yearbook. I took a few minutes to leaf through it, and who do I see but William Giles!”

  “William Giles?”

  “Edward Giles’s nephew,” she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Remember when Edward talked about that weird nightmare he had about his nephew? This is William, the nephew. He even looks a lot like Edward, doesn’t he? A young version of Edward.”

  “Are we sure this is the same William Giles?” Ali asked.

  “Yes, of course I am.” Lucinda raised her eyebrows and there was a slight edge to her voice. “Look. William wrote about the most influential person in his life, and it’s none other than his uncle Edward Giles.” She paused and locked eyes with me. “Our Edward Giles,” she said. “William was the class valedictorian and they printed his graduation address in the yearbook.”

  “It sounds like Edward was instrumental in him getting into college,” I said, my eyes scanning the speech. “He’s been involved with him every step of the way and guided him into a career.”

  “Keep reading,” Lucinda said with a cat-that-swallowed-the-canary smile. “Look where William did his college internship.”

  I read the next paragraph and my mind did a cartwheel. “‘Next year, William Giles plans to be an intern at Sonia Scott, Inc. He’s looking forward to working in her broadcast division and will be a crew member on her TV show.’”

  “Edward’s nephew worked for Sonia and he never said a word? How is that possible?”

  Lucinda shot me a puzzled glance. “Well, you know we agreed that he’s reticent,” she said mildly. “I suppose he doesn’t want anyone to know his business.”

  “But this is important,” I sputtered. “I can’t believe he sat here listening to us talk about Sonia’s murder and he never volunteered this information.”

  “Why should he?” Lucinda countered. “It couldn’t possibly be relevant to the case.” She hesitated. “Besides, his nephew isn’t working for Sonia’s company anymore. He was only there for a very brief time.”

  “How do you happen to know that?” Ali asked.

  “I spoke to his former teacher, of course. She read all about it on TMZ. Apparently they wrote a rather unflattering story about Sonia and described her as a diva. They mentioned William Giles as an example of what happens when Sonia blackballs someone.” TMZ? Lucinda never fails to amaze me. She sipped her iced tea. “I was hesitant to mention this, because one should never speak ill of the dead. At least that’s the way I was brought up—”

  “Yes, yes.” I cut her off. The rest of the Dream Club would be here shortly, and I wanted Lucinda to cut to the chase. “Lucinda, I don’t mean to be rude, but please go on with your story.” I tapped my watch. “The rest of the group will be here any second and I’d like to hear why he left Sonia.”

  “Well, that’s the part that’s a bit unsavory,” she began.

  “Unsavory?” Ali exchanged a look with me.

  “I mean, it makes Sonia sound rather unkind. Not a very nice person,” she said, shaking her head. “It seems that William was working on a technical crew and hoped to become a lighting designer. I think that’s what they’re called. Of course, the competition is fierce in television; there are very few jobs open.”

  “Yes, I know,” Ali said, sneaking a peek at the kitchen clock. “But what happened?”

  “Poor William made a mistake in rehearsal. Somehow he pressed the wrong buttons and the whole set went dark. It wasn’t a live show; it was just a rehearsal, you understand. So it wasn’t a complete disaster, but Sonia went absolutely ballistic and fired him on the spot. She said that the episode would have to be reshot and since it was nearing the end of the day, the cast and crew would be paid overtime. What a mess for William. He was so apologetic. He begged her to reconsider, but she went storming off to her dressing room to cool down. That was the last he ever saw of her.”

  “It sounds dreadful,” Ali said sympathetically. She pumped up the pillows and sat on the sofa. “It must have been a terrible blow to an ambitious young man. Of course, everyone has some setbacks in their career. I suppose he went on to find another job in television?’

  “Oh no, my dear, that’s the whole point of the story. He never could get another job. Sonia was very powerful, you see. She told him he would never work in broadcasting again, and she was right. She blackballed him. Very vindictive of her. She made sure that no one hired him. It must have been devastating for him.”

  “That’s awful,” I burst out. “Anyone can make a mistake.”

  “Not if they want to keep working for Sonia’s company,” Lucinda said, raising her eyebrows. “There’s no forgiveness, no going back.”

  24

  A few minutes later, everyone gathered in our apartment, and the meeting began. All the members, including Detective Sam Stiles, showed up tonight. She arrived a few minutes late, gave an apologetic wave, and squeezed in next to Persia.

  I half expected Edward Giles not to make an appearance, but he was right on time and snared a seat next to Lucinda. He cast shy glances at her from time to time, and it was obvious that he was attracted to her.
I was wondering how I would broach the subject of his nephew and his association with Sonia’s company when Lucinda beat me to it.

  Without preamble, she opened the yearbook and showed it to Edward. “Edward,” she said quietly, “I was surprised to learn that your nephew William worked for Sonia Scott.” She smiled at him. “It must have been an exciting experience for him. I was surprised you didn’t tell us about it.”

  Edward looked at the yearbook photo, turned beet red, and began to sputter. “How did you—” He broke off and rubbed his chin with his hand. “Yes, he did,” he said, his tone angry, defensive. “It wasn’t for very long, though. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.” He quickly grabbed a glass of iced tea and chugged half of it.

  Everyone stopped chattering and stared at him. Usually we have a few minutes of socializing before getting down to business, but the group members seemed to sense that something important was happening. Etta Mae licked her lips and leaned forward in her chair, straining to hear every word. The Harper sisters exchanged a puzzled look, and Persia sat back with a self-satisfied expression on her face as if she’d known what was coming. I was surprised at her reaction and decided to ask her about it after the meeting. Sybil lifted her shoulders in a shrug and reached for a cookie, her expression serene. Maybe she’d seen the whole thing in a dream? As a dream-hopper, she certainly was capable of dropping in on one of Edward’s dreams.

  Lucinda didn’t let him off the hook, and I decided to sit back and enjoy the show. “But, Edward, it’s so exciting. Not many people have the opportunity to work in show business. You must be so proud of him. Where is he working now? Did he leave Sonia’s and start work on another television show?”

  Edward let out a long slow breath and clenched and unclenched his fingers. “He’s working in a bank,” he said shortly. “And no, there’s nothing exciting about it, except the pay is good and he has a real chance of advancement.” He set his iced tea back on the coffee table and looked directly at Lucinda. “Yes, I’m very proud of him. That young man has suffered some serious setbacks and could have let himself spiral down into depression, but he pulled himself together and made a different life for himself.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear,” Lucinda said brightly. “All’s well that ends well, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose so,” Edward said grumpily. It was clear Edward wasn’t going to say another word about his nephew, despite Lucinda’s prodding, so Ali called the meeting to order and asked if anyone had anything to report.

  “Tell us about the cooking classes,” Etta Mae said. “I saw a flier on a bench in Forsyth Park. Can anyone come?”

  “Yes, of course,” Ali told her. “And there’s no charge, not for the classes or the supplies. I think it will be fun!” she added in a burst of enthusiasm. “Be sure to pick up a sign-up card as you leave tonight, if you’re interested. The classes are filling up so quickly, and we’re keeping them small, because we want to give a lot of personal attention to each student.”

  “Well, I think it’s a fine idea,” Etta Mae said. “Your baked goods are excellent,” she said, biting into a lemon tart. “And as you know, I come from a long line of Southern cooks, so that’s high praise indeed.”

  “Etta Mae,” Minerva said suddenly, with a keen expression on her face, “what’s the latest with your case? Or do you have one? I remember you said Persia was going to arrange a meeting for you.”

  “Yes, she did,” Etta Mae said, smiling her thanks at Persia. “Persia really came through for me. I met with one of the attorneys at her firm yesterday morning and he was very encouraging. He wants to look into the case a little more before giving me his opinion, but he said I have every reason to feel positive. And he’s not charging me; that’s the best part.”

  “Adam Lloyd is taking the case on a contingency basis,” Persia explained. “If he wins the case for Persia, he takes a percentage of the settlement, but if he loses, then she doesn’t owe him a penny.”

  “That seems like a smart way to operate,” Edward interjected. “When William left Sonia’s company, I thought of sending him to a lawyer specializing in employment issues, but he wouldn’t hear of it. I suppose he just wanted to get out and put the whole nasty business behind him.”

  His tone was so bitter that Rose Harper looked up in surprise. “Good heavens, did something go wrong when he worked for Sonia? I thought he left to take another opportunity.”

  There was a long, uncomfortable silence. “Well, I probably shouldn’t discuss it,” Edward said, his mouth turned down in a scowl. “But since the cat’s out of the bag, he didn’t leave under ideal circumstances. Let’s just leave it at that.” He lifted up his glass and then set it down with a thump. “That woman—that woman,” he said, his voice shaking with anger. “She changed the whole course of William’s life and destroyed everything he’d worked for.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” Rose said softly.

  “I’ll never forgive her, never,” Edward added, his voice heavy with emotion. “William is a fine young man and he believes in letting bygones be bygones, but I don’t share that view.”

  “An eye for an eye,” Persia said knowingly.

  “That’s right!” Edward looked at her in surprise. “That’s exactly how I feel. William worked so hard to achieve what he wanted, and he chose a very competitive field. When he left Sonia’s show, he left under a cloud.”

  “What happened?” Dorien asked bluntly. Tact has never been her strong suit, and she made no effort to soften her tone.

  “I’d prefer not to get into all that,” Edward said. “Let’s just say William made a small mistake, the kind of thing anyone could do, and Sonia was furious. She fired him on the spot.” I glanced at Lucinda. The story certainly jibed with what she’d told me earlier.

  “Sonia was a very powerful woman,” Sybil said thoughtfully. “I suppose she wouldn’t give him a reference for another job?”

  “Right you are!” Edward burst out. “Not only did she refuse to give him a reference, she made sure he never worked in television again. All those people know each other, you see, and connections are everything. A word from Sonia could make or break someone’s career.” He snapped his fingers with such a loud cracking sound that Barney woke up from his nap with a frightened squeal. “His career went right down the drain, just like that,” Edward said, staring morosely into his glass.

  There was an awkward pause and I was at a loss for words. Finally, Ali broke the tension by saying, “That’s horribly sad, Edward. I wish we could help you and especially William. Is there anything we could do?”

  “No, no, that’s quite all right.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I just have to learn to accept it the way William does. Please forgive me,” he said earnestly, looking at Lucinda. “These are just the grumblings of an old man. Let’s go on with the Dream Club. I could use a change of subject and I’m sure everyone else could, too.”

  We immediately moved on to dream reports, but I found myself staring at Edward, remembering the strange, disconnected expression on his face when Sonia collapsed in the shop. His expression was so blank, it was almost as though he was willing himself not to react.

  Could he possibly be someone we should consider as a suspect? Until Lucinda found that yearbook, I never thought Edward had any connection with Sonia, and even now, I still found it hard to believe that he would be capable of murder. And how would killing Sonia help his nephew? It wouldn’t change a thing. It sounded as though Sonia had done as much damage to William’s career as she could and her blackballing him had a permanent effect. There was no way to undo it.

  Etta Mae also had a strange look on her face that day, I remembered. A small, gloating smile that twisted her features in a way that made me shudder. I couldn’t tell if she was surprised, or if she was just happy that something had happened to a woman she considered her archenemy. I still wasn’t certain Etta Mae would have
a strong enough motive for murder. Did it really help her case that Sonia was dead? It seemed that Etta Mae was going forward with her lawsuit against the company, and thanks to Persia, she even had a good lawyer on her side. So any anger or resentment she felt at the time should have dissipated by now.

  The dreams tonight were nothing out of the ordinary. Sybil did one of her dream-hopping experiences and talked about a troubled young girl who was torn between two boys in her high school class. “High drama,” Sybil said with a self-deprecatory laugh. “You’d think I’d find a way to drop in on something important. This poor girl was completely obsessed over whether she’d make cheerleader and which boy would ask her to the prom.”

  “You really have no way to control it, do you?” Etta Mae asked. “Because this is a skill I sure would like to learn. If I knew what people were dreaming about, I’d know what they were thinking. I’d have a huge advantage over them,” she said with a cackle.

  “I don’t think you can learn it,” Dorien cut in. “It seems like it’s some sort of gift, like being psychic or clairvoyant. You either have it or you don’t.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do if I had that gift,” Lucinda said. “I think I’d feel overwhelmed with the responsibility. Sybil, do you ever know the people whose dreams you visit?”

  “Sometimes.” Sybil shifted uncomfortably and I immediately thought that maybe she had dreamt about someone in the room.

  “Wow, I didn’t know that,” Dorien said. “Do you ever tell them?”

  “Oh, heavens, no,” Sybil said, flushing. “That would be too embarrassing. What if they thought I did it deliberately? I don’t do it on purpose,” she added quickly, “but I wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea. They might think I’m stalking them.”

  “Oh, well, I didn’t think of that,” Dorien countered. “I suppose it could be awkward.”

  “Very,” Sybil said tartly and folded her hands neatly in her lap to signal that the conversation was over and she wanted to move on.