Dream a Little Scream (22 page)

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.

The other dreams were fairly mundane and Sam Stiles had nothing to share. “When I'm under a lot of stress, I tend not to dream,” she said wearily. “It's like my brain wants to shut down completely and give me a few hours of oblivion. Does anyone else feel that way?”

“Oh, heavens, yes,” Lucinda said. “It can go either way. When I'm upset, I have these awful ‘rescue' dreams. There are always cats or puppies in trouble, and it's up to me to save them.”

“Probably from your days at the Academy,” Persia noted. “The kitties and puppies probably represent your former students.”

“That could well be,” Lucinda said. “And sometimes it goes the other way. When I'm really troubled by something, my head hits the pillow and I go out like a light for eight hours straight. I always feel so much better when I wake up.”

“I have the same experience,” Sam piped up. “It's almost like my brain reboots itself, like a computer. I wake up energized, ready to take on the day.”

“I don't suppose you can tell us any news about the investigation?” Dorien asked. Her tone was polite and conciliatory. I think she's a little afraid of Sam. Sam can be just as blunt and direct as Dorien, and she's not afraid to tell Dorien off if she feels she's stepped over the line.

“Afraid not.” She threw me a quick look, and I wondered if she planned on staying after the meeting and giving us an update.

“Oh, speaking of poor Sonia,” Minerva said, “I completely forgot that I have some photos of the book signing to show everyone.”