Getaway Read online

  “Of course, Dolly. Give your mother my love.”

  Sophie looked at Toots, Mavis, and Ida. From the expressions on their faces, it was obvious they, too, wondered just exactly what kind of relationship the two women shared. They didn’t have to guess for long.

  “Ted hires my staff from outside. Dolly’s been with me for twenty-six years.”

  Apparently, money could buy a private staff in an upscale assisted-living facility.

  Sophie looked at her watch again. A few minutes before two. She wanted to hear Margaret’s story before it was naptime.

  “Dolly’s a great cook,” Sophie said.

  “Yes, and a friend, but I suppose one might think it odd to have a black woman as a friend.”

  Four sets of eyes stared at her.

  “Why would you think that? We have friends of all different races—black, Hispanic, and Asian.”

  “My father came from a long line of people who owned black men as slaves. Even after those days, my father’s attitudes were such that I was forbidden to speak to the black men who worked for him on the plantation.”

  “Tell me your story, Margaret. I need to know if anything”—Sophie didn’t want to come out and use the words murder or suicide, so she went with the best she could come up with—“violent happened at Dabney House?”

  Margaret’s expression went from happy to dejected in seconds. She nodded. “I will tell you what I remember, but it’s been so long, I’m afraid most of my recollections are simply fragments from bits and pieces of what I can remember. If you want to hear an old woman talk, then I have all the time in the world.”

  “Wheel me over there.” She pointed to the sofa-and-chair grouping. Sophie pushed the wheelchair, surprised how easy it was to move. Poor Margaret was nothing more than a little bag of skin and bones.

  “Where to start? I suppose I should start at the beginning. Or what I think is my beginning.”

  “Please do,” Sophie begged. Toots, Mavis, and Ida gathered around Margaret, eagerly waiting to hear her story.

  “Dabney House belonged to my father’s family. Passed from one generation to the next. In its prime, we grew some of the juiciest peaches in the South. My mother made the best peach jam in the world. She was famous for her chicken stew, too. My father ran the plantation with a strict hand. Men who’d devoted their lives to my father were fired for no reason if it suited him. I never saw this. Poor choice of words. I was not living at home any longer. When Mother gave birth to a second child, Ted Dabney’s mother, my father sent me away to live in Massachusetts, where they had one of the best schools in the world for the blind. I was five or six at the time. I didn’t mind leaving Dabney House, but I hated having to leave my mother and sister behind. You see, my father was a mean old man who only cared about himself. He usually stayed drunk, and he was a mean drunk. Mother was quiet because she knew what would happen if she wasn’t. We all feared him. He could be a tyrant one minute, but when he wanted something, he treated us with such kindness that we could almost forget that wasn’t his true nature. Mother was a cripple—did Ted tell you that?”

  Sophie and Toots looked like the air had been knocked out of them. “No, he didn’t. Was she born that way?” Sophie had to know.

  “No, Mother was a beautiful woman when she was young. She had the silkiest hair I’ve ever touched. She used to let me brush it when we were alone. Mother was the one who taught me how to read in Braille. To this day, I have a great passion for the written word, but that isn’t what you came all this way to hear, is it?”

  Sophie didn’t answer.

  “Mother had a terrible fall one night. It was the evening of her first anniversary.”

  Sophie looked like she had been poleaxed. That’s the connection, she thought. Florence came to me on the evening of my and Goebel’s first anniversary. Now things are starting to make some sort of sense.

  “She fell down the stairs in the main hall. From what she told me, she thought she would die. Her doctors said she would never walk again. She was a proud woman, and couldn’t imagine spending her life in a wheelchair, dependent upon my father for her every need. When her bones healed, she forced herself to walk. Every day, she would walk up and down the stairs. At the top she always looked down, and cried. One day she let me walk with her. I remember she held my hand so tight I thought it would break, but she was just trying to protect me. That day, I asked Mother why she always cried when she stood at the top of the staircase. She said it didn’t matter anymore, but I begged and pleaded with her to tell me. This part I remember very clearly, like she told me about it yesterday.

  “They had a dinner party with friends, to celebrate their first anniversary. I can’t remember their names, but Mother said she was eager for them to leave. But my father drank all through dinner, and things started to get unpleasant, so Mother went upstairs to prepare for bed. She had a surprise for my father. She wanted to tell him as soon as their guests left, but he was already in a drunken rage when they left. Mother never even got a chance to tell them goodbye.

  “Apparently my parents had words. They fought. Then, when my father had had enough, he pushed Mother down the staircase. Her legs and arms were broken, but she fought, and she lived. I asked her why didn’t she just die. Of course, I was a little girl at the time, and I didn’t understand death. Mother explained to me that her special surprise was me. She was pregnant with me when my father tossed her down the stairs.” A single tear fell from Margaret’s eye. “I’m sure that fall caused my blindness.”

  “I am so sorry, Margaret,” Sophie said. Using the pad of her thumb, she wiped the tear from the old woman’s cheek.

  The dreams, the visions, Ida’s possession made complete sense to her now. Florence’s husband, Theodore Dabney, the man whose name she called out as she was toppling down the stairs, pushed her, and she was pregnant with her daughter, who was born blind.

  Her house needed a cleansing. For the first time in days, Sophie felt confident that she could remove the evil from Dabney House.

  Margaret had worn herself out telling her story. Sophie, Toots, Mavis, and Ida left when they saw she’d fallen asleep in her wheelchair, but before she left, Sophie placed the silver baby bracelet in her hand.

  Chapter Ten

  “I can’t believe you did all of this in twenty-four hours, you sweet man.” Sophie toured her kitchen. The cabinet doors had been replaced with replicas of the originals. The pantry was still lacking a few of the custom-built shelves, but there was no sign of the destruction she’d seen day before yesterday. The kitchen floor sparkled like liquid gold. Goebel had been able to buff the scratches from the floor, saving them from having to replace it, too. Margaret Dabney had walked across these floors, and Sophie intended to treat them with kid gloves from now to eternity.

  “This is perfect, Goebel. I don’t know how you managed to accomplish this in such a short time, but you did, and I’m so glad.”

  When she had left Pine Shadows yesterday, Sophie called Goebel to give him the short version of Aunt Maggie’s story. They had discussed what she would have to do to rid their home of Theodore Dabney’s evil spirit.

  And now it was time.

  She put several bunches of sage in a bag, along with three bottles of holy water that had recently been blessed by Pope Francis. She wore her rosary around her neck for protection. Daniel and Ida were on their way. Sophie felt that Ida needed to be here during this purification.

  “Is there anything else you need?” Goebel asked.

  Sophie smiled, the first genuine smile she’d actually felt in several days. “I have more than I’ll ever need, but to answer your question, I’ve plenty of cleansing supplies.”

  “It’s good to have you back, Soph. I don’t like it when you’re unhappy.” Goebel wrapped his arms around her, kissed the top of her head, then patted her on the ass.

  She pulled away from him, laughing, “So that’s why you’re so happy to see me. Always have sex on the brain, huh?”

&n
bsp; “That’s one reason, but not the main reason. I’m just happy to be alive and to have you as my woman.”

  A loud knock on the front door startled them both. “Ida’s here.”

  “I’ll let her in. Tell Daniel hello, and he can come back another time. Why don’t you go with him? I think it’s best if it’s just me and Ida today.”

  “Okay, but you keep your cell phone in your pocket and call me if you feel frightened or uncomfortable in any way.”

  “I will,” Sophie assured him.

  “Promise?”

  “Cross my heart promise.” Sophie drew an imaginary X over her heart.

  “I feel like I should say ‘break a leg’ or something, but that wouldn’t be good, huh?”

  “No. Florence Dabney wouldn’t approve at all,” Sophie said to her husband’s back as he left to answer the front door.

  “Sophia, where are you?” Ida called out from the living room a few moments later.

  “In the kitchen.”

  “Well, it certainly looks better than the last time I was here. Now how long is this going to take? I have several meetings with my chemists. We’re making a new formula for our concealer.”

  “That’s wonderful. Maybe Toots can toss her Maybelline.”

  Goebel came back to the kitchen. “Daniel and I are going to the Sweetest Things, save you a trip. I know Toots wants to send Margaret a box of Jamie’s pralines. Do you have that address?”

  “Call Toots, she has it. Now, go on before Jamie sells out.” Goebel left with Daniel, leaving Sophie and Ida by themselves with whatever spirits still occupied the house in which Theodore Dabney had almost killed his wife and unborn child.

  “Are you sure you’re up to this, Ida? It can wait if you’re not ready.” Sophie didn’t want to wait a minute longer than necessary. She wanted the spirit of Theodore Dabney gone from her house for good.

  “I’m more than ready. I haven’t whacked out yet, though I have to admit I’ve been fearing I would, and that I’d do it in front of Daniel. I would just die if that happened. Daniel is a young man. He could have a number of women if he chose to, but he chose me. I want to make sure he continues to be pleased with his choice.”

  “You’re back to your old slut ways, I see. Daniel isn’t young, Ida. He’s in his late fifties, for heaven’s sake. And for the record, you look much younger than he does. It’s unlike you to sell yourself short. You’re rich, beautiful, and smart. Daniel would be a total idiot to walk away from you.”

  Ida smiled at her. “You really do love me, don’t you?”

  Sophie looked at Ida, and together they bubbled over with laughter. In the nearly sixty years they had known each other, this was a first for them.

  “Are you ready to get this show on the road?”

  “More than you’ll ever know.”

  “Follow me.”

  Sophie scooped up her supplies and headed upstairs.

  “I want to start in the séance room first, since that’s where I first felt a presence.” Taking a bundle of sage from her supply bag, she lit the end with a match and aimed the white smoke away from her. She went from corner to corner, top to bottom, spreading the smoke in every nook and cranny. “You will leave my home in peace. There is no need for you to stay behind. Your daughter knows what you did to her mother, your wife, and to her. She says that she forgives you, but only if you cross over to the other side.” Sophie waved the sage around the room a second time.

  Next, they went to the attic. Sophie was shocked when she saw that the trunks were gone. The attic had been completely cleaned out. Goebel again. She loved that man. He hadn’t wasted one minute while she was in Charlotte. She lit another bundle of sage, sending the white puffs throughout the attic. “Theodore Dabney, you have to cross over to the light. Your daughter forgives you, so move on.” She fanned the smoke throughout the attic a second time. When she finished, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. This time she lit two bundles of sage, waving them up and down the length of the walls, across the windows, inside the cabinets, any open space that she felt had been touched by the evil soul of Theodore Dabney.

  Next was the pantry. With the two remaining bundles, she ran them up and down the walls as she’d done in the kitchen. She opened the doors, allowing the purifying smoke to spread throughout the space. When she was finished with the sage, she started over again, only this time she took the vials of holy water.

  First, she sprinkled the water in her séance room. Again, she found herself in the attic, then back to the kitchen. Sophie felt she needed to do something special to let the woman who she now knew was Margaret’s mother know that she had gotten the message intended for her. She said a prayer, then stood at the top of the staircase. One step at a time, she stopped to sprinkle the holy water. When she reached the last step, she looked back up at the staircase. A beautiful bright ball of light danced up and down, and side to side, then it flew down the stairs, swirled in front of her and Ida, then shot back up the stairs like a rocket. The glistening ball stilled, then slowly diminished, right in front of their very eyes.

  A lightness that she hadn’t seen or felt before permeated the house. Sophie had Ida follow her to each room. When nothing happened, Sophie knew that Theodore Dabney had crossed over to the bright light. He’d been a miserable, mean man who knew he was responsible for crippling his wife and blinding his daughter. He’d been hanging around in search of a way to ask for forgiveness.

  Sophie watched Ida just to make sure this was as real as she believed it was. Gone were the dark half-moons beneath her eyes. Her face sparkled, her eyes glistened like two diamonds.

  Yes, Sophie could safely say her work here was complete.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I don’t have to give you a reason, George. I’ve changed my mind. I am not selling. No, no, and no. I have two grandchildren who may have inherited their mother’s reporter instincts. They might need a job. What kind of grandmother would I be if I snatched the opportunity away from them before they even had a chance to decide if it’s what they want to do professionally? So, there you have my answer. No, I will not be selling the Informer anytime soon.” Toots hung up the phone.

  “Are you sure you want to keep it?” Phil asked her.

  “Yes, I’m sure. Josh is doing a fantastic job running the rag, so as long as I own the place, I get first dibs on the papers. Did I ever tell you how I used to hoard the papers, then read them from cover to cover every Friday night while I soaked in my Jacuzzi tub?”

  Phil held Frankie in his lap. “I think you forgot to mention that story.”

  Toots laughed. “I’m not that woman now. Though I still like to read the tabloids, I don’t have time to devote an entire evening to them. I have grandchildren, and Abby, and Chris. The Canine Café. The Sweetest Things, and Jamie. I have friends that I love more than you can imagine. I’m so blessed. What more could I possibly need?”

  Since Sophie had given her house and Ida the all-clear sign, they were all giddy for one reason or another. Bernice and Robert were so excited over their upcoming marriage that Toots accused them of acting like virgins. They all laughed, even Robert, who’d mellowed out just a tiny bit.

  “I know something you don’t have, Toots,” Phil said. He held little Frankie in his lap, rubbing the top of his head. This pooch had played an important role in bringing them together, and Phil thought it only fair that he was here with them to share his news with Toots.

  “You do? What would that be? I have so much, Phil, really. I want for nothing.” Toots’s words were sincere; she meant everything she said.

  Phil stood up, taking Frankie off his lap and adjusting the pooch in his arms so that he was comfortable. “You don’t have one of these.” He lifted Frankie high in the air.

  “But I thought you said Frankie belonged to both of us. You’re taking him to New York with you, aren’t you?” Toots’s eyes pooled with tears. Just when life was nearly perfect, he had to ruin it.

  “Toots, what are yo
u talking about?” Phil asked.

  “Frankie. You’re holding him in the air like he’s a prize, which we both know that he is, but I thought we were sort of sharing him. Co-owners.”

  Phil burst out laughing. “Come here. I want you to pet Frankie one more time.”

  Toots’s heart sped up. “What do you mean ‘one more time’?”

  Hating Phil right now more than he could possibly imagine, Toots still loved Frankie, and if this was the last time she was going to get to love on him, then she was going to take full advantage of the situation. “Let me hold him.”

  Phil gently passed the little weenie dog to her. Frankie growled. Toots rubbed him between the ears, then turned him over to tickle his soft little belly. “What is this?” A small white square was taped to his belly. “What’s wrong with you, Phil?” Toots carefully removed the white square from Frankie’s belly. He growled again.

  “Here, boy,” Phil said, handing the little pooch a handful of treats.

  “Open it, Toots.”

  “This?” She held out the small white square.

  “Yes, that.”

  Toots used her fingernail as a letter opener. Surely this isn’t what she thought. She looked up at Phil, who wore a grin the size of Earth. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  She needed a minute to reroute her thoughts. This path hadn’t been opened for a long, long time. Suddenly, she felt like she’d been wrapped up in a silken cocoon of euphoria. “I’m stunned. I had no idea.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “So now that you have an idea?”

  Toots chuckled. “Well, that’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

  “Woof!” Frankie’s bark was so unexpectedly loud, they both jumped.

  “It’s beautiful, Phil, but I don’t know . . .”

  He placed a finger over her lips. “You don’t have to answer me now. We’ve got plenty of time.”

  “I hate to remind you but we’re both over seventy. I’m not sure that constitutes plenty of time. Of course, you being a doctor, and me being a smoker, it’s only logical that you would have more time than I do.”