Bone-a-fied Trouble

by Carolyn Haines

  “Roger! Tabitha is here at my invitation,” Charline said, stepping between the two. “And she’ll be my houseguest for several days.”

  “I’m fascinated to see how Ms. Kingsley works,” Roger said. “I’ll stick to her like a burr to make sure she has everything she needs.”

  Tabitha wanted to stomp Roger Long’s arrogant foot. She’d taken note of his expensive boots and oh-so-casually expensive polo shirt and jeans. Instead she smiled. “Mrs. Long is lucky to have someone who looks out for her…well-being.”

  He shot a curious look at her, reading between the lines as she’d intended him to do. “I hope you don’t fill Aunt Charline’s head with stories of ghosts lurking about. My grandmother was a wonderful lady who lived her life to the fullest. I don’t believe regrets would keep her hanging around here.”

  “Then why do you suppose both your aunt and uncle sense her here? With some urgency, I might add.” She waited.

  “Because they miss her. We all miss her, but her spirit isn’t lurking about. You can take that to the bank, along with whatever money you’re bilking out of Charline and Samuel.”

  Tabitha forced a smile. “Oh, Suellen is here, Mr. Long. Never doubt that, but my sense is that she’s here because she cares for this family. Perhaps there’s some unfinished business, but certainly not out of regret.” She decided to take a big risk. She touched her forehead lightly with her fingertips. “She wants me to tell you that the missing woman is okay. Not safe, but okay for the moment.”

  His reaction was everything and more. He pulled back from her as if he’d been shocked.

  “See, Raj. You were worried about that young woman who didn’t show up for work. She’s okay. That should relieve your mind.” Charline patted his arm. “Will you be here for dinner tonight? Samuel’s grilling some Gulf shrimp.”

  “What time?”

  “Six o’clock for cocktails, then dinner.” Charline linked her arm with his. “Tabitha will also be our guest. As I mentioned, she’s staying here until she finds a suitable property to buy.” Her one cocked eyebrow brooked no disagreement.

  Tabitha expected Roger to resist, but he only smiled. “How wonderful. I look forward to tonight and more revelations from the spirit world. Revelations anyone could know by spending three minutes in town.” He shot her a sidelong glance. “Now I need to head up to the co-op to put in a fertilizer order and then return to the offices to finish up work.”

  “He’s a lovely young man when he isn’t being officious,” Charline said, giving her nephew a hard look.

  “He’s only looking out for you.” Tabitha supplied the expected response, though she wasn’t sure at all that Roger had anyone’s interest at heart except his own. She’d met his level steel gray gaze and could read nothing behind his eyes.

  “Until tonight,” he said and kissed his aunt’s cheek before he left. The front door closed with a solid click.

  “Let me get us some tea. The weather is a bit on the raw side, don’t you think?” Charline asked.

  “Yes, the wind is cold, blowing over this open land. The vista of the Delta is startling and a little unsettling.” The land was so open, so windswept and free of houses.

  “Have a seat. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” Charline disappeared down a hallway and Tabitha examined the parlor. It was another stunning room with velvet drapes that puddled beside windows designed to open onto the front porch like doorways. The old plantation homes had been constructed to allow for air flow, the only relief from the terrible heat of the summers.

  When Charline returned, she carried a formal tea service, beautiful china cups, and a basket of dried fruit scones. She placed the tray on the coffee table and poured the tea.

  “I feel I should explain about my nephew. He comes across rather…harsh. But he’s really a good guy. Raj earned his nickname because he’s something of an autocrat, in the best sense of the word. He’s taken over the running of the plantation, which is now all high-tech and crop futures, big equipment and high finance. It’s very different from the farming that Samuel grew up doing. Raj worries about Samuel and me. He tells us all the time we have to keep up with cell phones and technology and computers. He doesn’t want us to fall behind and be isolated. I agree, but it’s just too much sometimes.”

  “Is he Hannah’s son?” Tabitha needed to confirm all the family connections. She’d suspected that Roger Long had wrested control of the plantation from his uncle. He’d managed to put himself in charge of all business decisions. And very possibly all of the employees. Trudy had worked for Roger, and Tabitha was slightly heartened to know that Roger had at least mentioned a missing employee.

  “It’s a long story.” Charline sighed. “Hannah is Samuel’s half-sister and nearly twenty years younger. She was an unexpected child—Big Sam had an affair and Hannah was the result. Suellen and Big Samuel adopted her, but Hannah even refused to take the Long name when she was grown. She’s a Sellers. They tried hard and doted on Hannah when she was young, but when she became a teenager, she refused to see them. She was spoiled rotten and never forced to face the consequences of her actions. Raj is Hannah’s son, but I have no idea what kind of relationship they have. Let’s just leave it there. Now, what can I do to help you with the reading?” She put her teacup aside and cleared a portion of the coffee table.

  Tabitha pulled her focus back to the job at hand. She’d make this reading convincing. She’d already been invited into the bosom of the household, so she needed to cement her position with this first display of her ability.

  “I’ll do a tarot reading and see if we can make initial contact with Suellen,” she said, shuffling the beautiful deck of dragon tarot cards and laying out a Celtic Cross spread. She’d learned the technique of reading the tarot months ago from the best card reader in New Orleans. Tabitha and Trudy had always had an interest in the tarot cards and the working of those who could touch the spiritual realm. Tabitha had explored her abilities, and Mama Bettite had told her she had real talent. She’d urged Tabitha to train to use her gift. Tabitha had never intended to read professionally, but she was glad now she’d gained enough skill to pass herself off as a psychic. At least until she found her sister.

  “I’m nervous,” Charline confessed.

  Tabitha wondered if there was a reason, but she flipped over the first card, the Ace of Swords. “Someone definitely has a message for you. This is a card of communication, of secrets, and messages from the past,” she said, pointing to a card. She placed another. “And this message is crossed by the knight of swords. There is someone, a physical person, who is in the way of this important message. It’s about something that happened not long ago.” She watched Charline closely. “Something involving…this can’t be right, but it looks like a missing person. Suellen wants you to help find her.”

  Charline’s eyebrows lifted quickly. “Really? If it’s the young woman who stopped showing up for work, I can’t see how that has anything to do with me. I can’t even recall her name.”

  Tabitha frowned. “Was she somehow related to you or Samuel or this plantation?”

  Charline sat back in her chair, her face going blank. “No, just one of the office workers.” Her fingers pulled at the edge of the linen napkin she’d placed on her lap. “Young people today come and go. It isn’t like it was when I was a young woman and a good job was something to hang onto. What does this have to do with Suellen? That’s who I really want to connect with.”

  Tabitha checked herself. She’d tried to jump ten steps ahead, and in doing so, she’d rattled Charline. Patience. She had to learn patience. All of her work would be for nothing if she didn’t take her time.

  “Let me see.” Tabitha bent to study the cards. “Suellen has tried to contact you in the past. There was a broken mirror?”

  “Yes!” Charline gasped. “It fell right off the wall.”

  “That was Suellen, though she didn’t mean to break it. She was trying to get Samuel’s attention. She wants to te
ll him...” Tabitha put her hand over the Ace of Cups in the place of the past. “She loves him. He was always the source of her heart’s love. She wants him to know she is safe and happy. She’s showing me a picture of a field, green with a crop. It’s not corn. Not soybeans.” She hesitated, playing it out. “Maybe cotton. It’s a different crop. She wants Samuel to look at a new crop for the land.”

  “That’s incredible. Roger was just talking about a new crop.” Charline stood up. “Suellen loved this farm. She knew as much, or more, about farming than any man in the Delta. Samuel will pay heed to her suggestions. Samuel isn’t involved with the day-to-day operation now, but this is something he’ll want to hear.” She sighed. “He’s missed having Suellen to consult with, and Roger will be delighted to have his proposal confirmed.”

  Tabitha felt a twinge of real remorse. Charline Long was a nice person, a decent person who loved her family and heritage. What Tabitha was doing, playing on that love and loss, was wrong. But she’d already crossed that line long ago. She was willing to do whatever it took to find her sister. The last place Trudy was seen was in the corporate offices of Long Agricultural Products, and Tabitha had a sneaking suspicion her sister had lied to her about her reasons for moving to the Delta. She’d been working in the front office as a receptionist, until she disappeared two weeks earlier. One way or the other, Tabitha meant to find out what had happened to her.

  Chapter Two

  The narrow road disappeared on the horizon, a straight path that cut east to west across the Long acreage. Roger pressed the gas pedal on the big v-8 dually he drove on farm business. He’d been to town and was loaded with a ton of fertilizer he had to deliver to a spreader truck in the north acreage. But first he headed to the office, driving through the back fields that he loved to tour and check out.

  This year’s crops were planted and the gamble on a new type of cotton had been taken. His grandmother, Suellen, would be proud of him for taking the risk. Farmers didn’t need to go to a casino to scratch a gambling itch. Everyday life for a farmer was a huge gamble that depended on sun and rain, control of pests and fungi, and the ability to harvest when the crop was ready and not a day before or after. Timing, luck, and weather—a farmer controlled none of those, but lived or died by them.

  He tried to focus his thoughts on the company budget, but every time he got one tangle squared away, he found himself thinking about the young woman who’d invaded his aunt’s home. Something was up with Tabitha Kingsley, psychic medium. He’d heard about her at Millie’s Café when he stopped by for breakfast and the morning gathering of local farmers. Stories of Tabitha were all over town. She spoke with dead people. She saw the future. Right. Just another bloodsucker preying on the desire of the living to have one more word with the dead to assuage some guilt they held.

  Well, he’d about had it with people trying to take advantage of his kind-hearted aunt and uncle. Charline and Sam would give anyone the shirt off their backs, but they’d grown up in a time when folks were more trustworthy, more responsible for themselves.

  He stopped at the business office of Long Agricultural Products, not half a mile from his uncle and aunt’s home, and stepped into the warmth of the office. The empty desk where Trudy Wells had sat made his temper rise. The little butterfly in amber paperweight, the ceramic pig pen holder—it was all a reminder of Trudy. She hadn’t worked for him for very long, but she’d been astute and smart. She’d had a bright future with Long Agricultural as a lot more than a receptionist. She’d seemed to be settling into the routine of Sunflower County and her work at the office. She’d eagerly taken on more tasks aimed at research and had done a fine job. The other employees had taken to her. So where had she gone?

  Worry and aggravation made him sound gruff. “Ellie, start the search for a new receptionist.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ellie, who was his personal assistant, swallowed. “Right away.” She hesitated. “Any news from Trudy? I hate to hire someone else if—”

  “She left without any word. Just find someone else.”

  “It’s going to be hard. She was really smart about the plants and those new chemicals. I wonder why she’d just up and leave like that.”

  Roger realized that part of his anger was at that fact. “Yes, she was an asset. She had a future here, but she left. I’ve given her time, and I have to accept that she isn’t coming back. Replace her.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ellie turned on her heel and started to her office.

  “And have Eddie bring the fork lift to the warehouse. More fertilizer will be delivered in an hour.” He swept past her into his office and slammed the door. The first thing he did—before his curiosity about Tabitha Kingsley got in the way--was call the local sheriff’s department to report that a bloodsucker had leeched onto his aunt and uncle. He wasn’t surprised when Deputy DeWayne Dattilo explained that as long as Charline and Sam invited the woman into their home, there was nothing the law could do. The local sheriff, Coleman Peters, was out of town with his girlfriend, Sarah Booth Delaney. The two deputies, DeWayne and Budgie, were capable men, but they followed the letter of the law. Good enough. He’d handle it himself.

  He went straight to the Internet and looked up Tabitha Kingsley, psychic to the suckers. He found a professional website that included a number of testimonials to her abilities to bring peace and solace to those grieving the loss of a loved one. It also said she’d worked with local law enforcement in New Orleans to solve cold cases. He stopped reading there and eased back into his chair. Zinnia already had one private detective agency—in fact he’d considered hiring Delaney Detective Agency when Trudy first went missing. But he hadn’t. Now, though, he might need someone to look into both Tabitha’s appearance and Trudy’s disappearance. He wasn’t psychic, but he definitely felt there was a link.

  He stood up, the desk chair slamming backwards into the wall. Just another example of his bad temper for the office help to chew on and discuss. He grabbed his jacket and left again. He needed to check the new cotton crop. The weather had been good and the plants should be peeking out of the soil. A cold snap was forecast, and the wrong weather now could kill the tender young plants. This experimental crop was a real gamble—he’d paid a fortune for the seeds, even though Trudy had voiced concerns about the new crop. But the only way to stay afloat in farming was to risk and risk more.

  He found peace out in the fields. He longed for the time when Samuel made the business decisions and he worked physical labor. Those days were clean, without the murkiness of money, employee needs, trying to balance his labor force, profit, and payroll in a way that proved fair to everyone. Everything was simply bigger than he’d expected.

  Add Trudy’s unexplained disappearance to the top of the pile. What in the world had she gotten herself involved in? He didn’t want to believe her disappearance was somehow connected to his cotton, but a niggling worry in his gut told him he couldn’t rule out that possibility. Of the many regrets he had in the past year, Trudy was at the top of his list. There had been inconsistencies in her story. He should have sent her packing the day she showed up asking for work and pretending she knew anything about being a receptionist. But she’d jumped at the job and worked so willingly, throwing herself into Long Agricultural. Water under the bridge. He couldn’t undo what he’d done. Now he had to work.

  * * *

  So, Tabitha Kingsley has ingratiated herself into the Long household. Just as Pluto suspected would occur. One thing you should know—Pluto claims his residence called Dahlia House is haunted. Excuse me while I scoff. Pluto has been sippin’ the mint juleps! Perhaps everyone in Sunflower County is a bit barmy. Both owners of Long Hall are seeing things. I wonder if they’re hearing voices. Nonetheless, Pluto does have a mystery to resolve, and he thinks someone here in Long Hall has information about what has happened to Trudy.

  Trudy’s behavior isn’t consistent with her love for the little marmalade cat. Pluto tells me that Vesta is insistent that Trudy would never dump her. Trudy�
�s absence can only be attributed to foul play.

  I’ve seen Vesta—a foxy little fluff tail—and I have to agree. No one in her right mind would abandon such a magnificent feline. Some evil is afoot. I must act quickly, too. My humanoid, Tammy Lynn, brought me over to Zinnia while she’s attending an indie bookseller conference. We’re staying at the Prince Albert, but around this little burg, it’s easy enough to catch a ride, especially when there are vehicles that proclaim Long Agricultural Products on their doors. I am, after all, trained in logical deduction.

  My logic tells me that I’ve learned all I can here in Long Hall. Tabitha has gone to get her belongings to move in. Charline is in the kitchen, supervising the menu for dinner. I’m going to try for something to eat. If I get booted out, then I’ll walk to the agriculture offices about a half mile away. I should go back to the hotel. Tammy will be out of her meeting soon and she’ll let me pick from room service. A small sample of warm sole in a light cream sauce would give me renewed energy for the work. How to convey that to Charline Long?

  She’s taken aback to see me in her kitchen, but she isn’t angry. More like curious. Yes, she is stroking my fine black fur. And she is asking me if I’m hungry. I’ll give my most pitiful yowl and it is working like a charm. She’s raiding the fridge for some…chicken parmesan? Yes, that will do nicely. One thing about these Southern ladies--they know fine dining, or at least they hire a cook who does. This is delicious and will sustain me in my quest.

  Before I skedaddle from the “big house” and head back to the hotel, I need to stop off at Long Ag offices. That’s where Vesta said Trudy worked. That’s the last place she was seen. A good detective knows to pick up the trail where it ended. If there’s anything to be deduced, I shall discover it and thus begin the journey of finding the missing Trudy.