Wishbones (25 page)

"You say that as if it were so simple." The anger was gone and he was left with sadness again.

"Change is the hardest thing, for human or animals. Even plants have difficulty, and many can't survive it." I felt the corners of my mouth tug upward, but it was merely the ghost of a smile. "But the most amazing thing is that we keep trying. As long as we're alive, we continue to try. So we have to find Estelle and make sure she has all the help we can give her, if she chooses to try."

He put his arm around my shoulders and moved back the way we'd come. "You're a wise woman, Sarah Booth."

I laughed, and this time it was full and real. "Not me. I happen to have some very smart friends."

He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "But you listen to them, and that's what makes you wise. Now let's head back to the house and find Jovan. I'm sure she's wondering where I am. I can't leave all the packing to her."

But as we rounded the hedge in the garden, I realized Jovan wasn't worried about packing. She stood on the balcony of my room and stared down at us. Her expression was blank, but when she noticed my gaze on her, she turned and went inside. She'd witnessed Federico putting his arm around me and whispering in my ear. She couldn't know that he was talking about something innocent. From her vantage point, I doubted that the gesture looked anything except guilty as sin.

I started to tell Federico, then stopped. He had so much on his mind. And besides, I couldn't be certain Jovan was the jealous type. After all, she'd been spending mornings, evenings, and nights acting opposite Graf in scenes from which I was excluded.

That didn't exactly equate to a private walk in the gardens, but it was Federico's call. If he wanted to tell her, he could. I was going inside to pack. If Tinkie got the nod for Chablis to head home, Tinkie would fly back to Zinnia with the dustmop in the morning, and Graf and Sweetie and I would hop the private jet to L.A.

As soon as this film was wrapped, I was heading back to the Delta for a dose of down-home common sense and some of Millie's cooking. I was fairly certain the problems in the Marquez mansion stemmed from Estelle. She was somewhere on the premises, pulling pranks and still trying to sabotage her father's film. Like Carlita, she wasn't ready to change the patterns of her behavior, and I wasn't willing to spend my time trying to solve a mystery that would have no real resolution.
Estelle was the only person who could stop her personal crash and burn.

"Chablis!" I hailed the returning heroine. Tinkie parked in front of the mansion and carried the little moppet, all done up in fashionable hospital white, into the foyer where Graf, Sweetie Pie, Federico, and I waited.

"When Sarah Booth does her next film, you must bring Chablis to Hollywood," Federico said, stroking the pup's silky ears. "Now that Sweetie Pie has a role in a film, we must cast this darling creature."

Tinkie beamed, though I couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever risk Chablis on another trip again. The dustmop was healing, but it was a close call.

"I made her some chicken and rice," Graf said.

He'd disappeared into the kitchen and threatened me if I tried to enter. But Graf, cooking comfort food for a dog?

"I'm skeptical," Tinkie said, voicing my exact thoughts. "You're a good man, Graf, but I don't buy this at all." She bustled past him, Chablis in her arms.

We weren't far behind, but when I heard her exclamation, I had to give Graf a kiss. He was a man of his word. Two doggie bowls of chicken and rice were on the counter, warm to the touch. He'd even washed up the mess he'd made cooking.

"If Sarah Booth lets you get away," Tinkie whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, "I will have her put in the mental institution we've been threatening her with."

"She can't shake me this time," Graf assured her. "We're a team. Better together than either is solo."

How is it possible that words that can bring so much pleasure can also bring pain? I'd thought the same could be said of Coleman, but it hadn't panned out. And each time I found myself drifting to the past and my feelings for Coleman, I was cheating Graf.

"Is something wrong?" Federico came up beside me and
spoke so softly that neither Graf nor Tinkie heard him. They were busy hand-feeding Chablis. Sweetie Pie was scarfing her food down in fine Delaney tradition.

"I'm fine," I said. "It's hard to leave here."

"Once you're back in L.A., the work pace will keep you so busy, you won't have time to miss Petaluma."

He was right, of course. "I think I'm going up to my room for a quick shower," I told the gang. "Graf, since you're playing chef tonight, rustle up some vittles so we can all eat on the patio and enjoy the last evening here."

"Your wish is my command." He nodded his head like a certain television genie and I ducked out of the room and hurried upstairs. I wanted the water pounding down on me to wash away my self-destructive tendencies. I cheated my own happiness by clinging to the losses of the past. If I had to have a lobotomy or an exorcism, that was one pattern of behavior I intended to break.

I'd gathered fresh clothes and turned to go into the bathroom when I caught a glimpse of a figure standing on my balcony. My heart hammered against my chest, and my fresh clothes slipped to the floor. I almost ran back to the kitchen, but I didn't. It was Estelle, and she wasn't going to get my goat this time. She couldn't get past me; the door--or jumping twenty feet to the ground--were the only ways out of my room.

"I'm not afraid of you," I said. I walked toward the balcony. So my knees were a little weak; my voice was strong and steady. "If you've got something to say to me, you'd better come on in and say it."

The figure didn't move, and it took me a few seconds to realize it was dressed in a floor-length gown of fine gray silk, with a high-necked, fitted bodice and flaring full skirt. The dress rustled in the breeze that was coming off the ocean.

The figure turned toward me and I saw pale skin, hair in a chignon. My mouth was suddenly dry. This wasn't the woman
in red. This was another figure entirely, and one that seemed to fade and shimmer in the dying light of day.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Quinton. I want Quinton. He loves me, you know. The children see him in the stables. He's waiting for me."

Try as she might to imitate a Victorian governess from one of the scariest movies I'd ever seen,
The Innocents,
Jitty couldn't completely lose her Southern accent. A desire to wring her neck came hand in glove with the knowledge of what she was up to.

"Damn it, Jitty, you scared me."

"I'm a ghost, Sarah Booth. It's in the job description."

I picked up my clothes and turned back to the bathroom. I didn't have time for her antics. "I'm heading home tomorrow."

"To Zinnia?"

There was such hope in her voice that I stopped and turned back to face her. "To Los Angeles. But once I'm done with this film, I'm going to Dahlia House. I need a break from all of this movie hustle and bustle."

I could see that my explanation did nothing to soothe the wound I'd so innocently inflicted. She'd really thought I would give up this movie in midstride and head home. "Why are you on my balcony?" I asked.

"I was thinkin' of perception. You know, how you can see somethin' and another person can see the same exact thing, but if you both tell it, you each have a different story."

"And?" She'd given up all attempts to speak like a governess. Her voice was rich and soft and lilting with the soft "g" endings that made a Southern drawl so appealing.

"You're packin' up to leave Costa Rica. I've never known you to leave a case half-finished."

It stung a little, which let me know she'd hit an exposed nerve. "First of all, I'm going to L.A. to finish a job that I'm committed to do. Secondly, this isn't 'a case.' No one is paying
me to straighten out Federico's daughter. I did what I could, but now it's time to move on."

"Are you so certain that Estelle is the perp?"

I hated it when Jitty used television language. She sounded like such a phony. "Estelle may or may not be 'the perp' but she damn sure has motive, means, and opportunity. She's at the top of the suspect list."

Jitty remained on the balcony, the sheer curtains lifting and falling around her in the breeze. Even in her governess garb, she was beautiful.

"That's what I mean about perception, Sarah Booth. Maybe, for just one minute, you should try lookin' at this from her point of view."

"I would if I had any idea what her point of view might be." But I was already talking to air. The balcony was empty. The curtains billowed once and then hung straight. Jitty was gone, and I was left with a feeling of dissatisfaction.

My hair was still damp from the shower, and my mind was on Jitty's message as I locked the door of my room and started for the staircase. The lessons from my haint were always cryptic, but this one had me puzzled. How did Marlon Brando as Quinton, the horse master in a movie based on a delicious short story, relate with anything that was happening around me?

I'd forgotten all about my "moment" in the gardens with Federico, but obviously Jovan had not. She waylaid me at the foot of the stairs.

"Is there something between you and Federico?" she asked.

At least she had the guts to come to me to get an answer, and I gave her points for forthrightness. "No, Federico is my boss. I'm concerned about his daughter." I matched her look for look. "I saw you on the balcony of my room." I checked my impulse to ask her why she was there. It would be more interesting to see what she volunteered.

Jovan's smile was amused. "Your door was open, and I heard something, like someone shuffling around. Creepy. Since Federico and I both have had that virus or whatever it was, I went in to check on you. I thought you might be sick."

I knew what happened next. "But the room was empty."

"Yes, the room was empty, and as soon as I went to the balcony, the noise stopped. I checked the bathroom and around, but I couldn't find anything. It had to be a water pipe or something in the walls." Her blond hair caught in one of her beautiful earrings, and she tugged it free. "It was so eerie. I honestly thought someone was there. Maybe the ghost that everyone is talking about."

"And then you glanced out and saw me and Federico in the garden."

She nodded slowly. "You looked pretty cozy. Federico and I are together because it suits us, but if he's developing a new interest, I don't want to be the last to know."

"Like I said, we were discussing his daughter. He's worried about her, and for good reason." No matter that we'd sealed all the secret corridors we knew about, there were others. There had to be. Old houses made strange noises, but it also seemed that someone floated through that house like it was a poltergeist honeycomb.

"The little bitch is working him." Jovan showed her first spark of Nordic heat. She was usually so cool, so unemotional, but Estelle had been pushing her buttons, too. While she might not show Federico her true feelings, she had no such reservations where I was concerned. "Estelle is a manipulative, dangerous woman," she continued. "I've told him he should stop all contact with her. Every time he gets worried and upset, she wins."

Estelle was manipulative. But dangerous? Yes, that, too. She'd hurt Joey, Jovan, Tinkie, and Chablis. And me. I could easily have drowned. "If we find her before tomorrow, I think Federico will put her in a facility for medical care. He's afraid she's going to harm herself."

"Instead of a country club mental institution, I'd rather see her sit in jail." Jovan frowned. "I hate to sound like a shrew, but she could have killed me. And your friend was hurt, as well as her dog."

I nodded in agreement. "To be honest, I don't think we'll discover Estelle before tomorrow. And once we're out of this house, she has no reason to bother us again."

"Tell that to Suzy Dutton." Jovan's blue gaze held mine for a moment before it broke. "I'm afraid, Sarah Booth. If she killed Suzy in Malibu, she might try to harm me again. Or you. Or someone on the film like Joey. He was lucky he didn't break his neck."

"We don't know that Suzy's death involved Estelle in any way."

"Right. It's just a coincidence that Federico's ex-girlfriend is dead and everyone on this film has been hurt." Her face shifted into shock. "Except for Graf. Nothing bad has happened to him."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. I didn't intend to be rude, but what she was implying was ridiculous. "Only women and teenage boys have been injured. Graf is a strong man. Perhaps that's why he hasn't been targeted. And you're forgetting Federico. No one has pushed or slugged him." I moved past her. I was ready to join my friends in the kitchen. Chablis was home and I needed some pampered pooch kisses.

"Federico may have been a victim, too. I'm thinking someone tampered with our food. We had seafood delivered and he and I both have been sick."

That brought me up short. Sick was one thing, but if Estelle, or someone else, was poisoning the food, it could also be deadly. Or it could merely have been a mild case of accidental food poisoning. Seafood and sun were a breeding ground for bacteria. "We should have had that food tested."

"I know, but Federico threw it away." Jovan walked with me toward the kitchen. "Look, we're leaving in the morning. If that's the end of all of this, I say let it go. Estelle is nuts, but she's also Federico's daughter. But what if this continues in Los Angeles? What then?"