Murder on the Candlelight Tour (23 page)

On Tuesday I braved the traffic, and drove out to Lumina Station with its charming boutiques and cafes to do my Christmas shopping.

My first stop was Bristol Books where I bought Anne Rice's latest book for Jon. He was addicted to the vampire series. I've never read them myself. Right now, I felt like I had enough ghouls in my life. For Mama I selected two pretty picture books, one on roses, the other on lighthouses. An armload of history books for Binkie. Before leaving, I ducked into the mystery section and grabbed a handful of paperbacks for myself.

At R. Bryan Collections, I arranged for a Wardrobe Consultant to visit Mama at Magnolia Manor to assist with the purchase of her spring and summer clothing.

I stowed my books in the trunk of the car and strolled into Centro Cafe for a large glass of juice and a California wrap. Sunshine beckoned me out of doors. I carried my food packets to one of the many porches where I settled in a white rocker. Sheltered from the wind in my cozy corner, I watched the fountain play in the sunshine.

Stiff breezes from the coast whipped skirts and ruffled hair in the parking lot. A woman getting out of her SUV held down her bright auburn hair. Melanie. I waved to her but she didn't see me. Her companion got out of the passenger side. Lisa Hamilton. Were those two joined at the hip? Lisa's platinum hair blew away from her face, then swung back into place perfectly.

I waved again and called to Melanie but she was busy fighting the wind and perhaps its noise prevented her from hearing me. I couldn't very well get up and go to her with my hands full of food.

I watched as she and Lisa went into Fathom's Bistro. Those two were becoming as thick as thieves. You're just being petty, Wilkes, I scolded myself. So Melanie has a friend, so what? Be happy for her for once in your life.

Finishing my lunch, I debated whether I should go into Fathom's to seek them out, but it seemed like it might be awkward, even if she was my sister. They'd feel they had to invite me to join them. I deposited my paper wrappings in a trash barrel and walked over to the Fountainside Fine Art Gallery. The gallery was beautifully appointed with pale blue walls and light hardwood floors. Original paintings by local artists were prominently displayed. A lovely watercolor of a Banks Channel scene attracted my attention. I wanted to buy it, but who would I give it to? Melanie and I usually give each other scarves and sweaters. Feeling I was making a mistake, I left the gallery without it.

At Jennifer's I found a beautifully beaded soft white cashmere sweater for Melanie, and a super-soft cream-colored shawl for Mama. At that point, I and my charge card were worn out, so I returned to my car. Melanie's Lexus was gone.

After locking my packages in the truck, I hesitated a moment. I still hadn't bought a present for Nick. I returned to the Fountainside Art Gallery. The watercolor seemed to say, "Buy me for Nick." I did. He'd once confided that it was his dream to live on a houseboat on the Waterway. Until he could make that dream a reality, he'd have the painting to look at.

Back in the historic district, I drove past Palace Street and saw something that caused me to hit my brakes. Luckily, the driver behind me had good brakes too and didn't rear-end me. His horn was in proper working order as well. I powered down my window to apologize, but he whizzed by, horn blaring, middle finger pointing skyward.

Driving around the corner, I pulled over to the curb. Looking like futuristic beasts, two yellow bulldozers lazed in the sun next to the rental houses. No one was around. The machines were unmanned, just sitting there, waiting for Joel to get the zoning variance he seemed to think was assured. Then they'd start up with a roar.

"Over my dead body!" I vowed.

The next day, I drove to the airport to pick up Mr. Dorfsman's grandchildren. I was happy for Mama. Mr. Dorfsman was a nice man and could provide the male companionship that had been missing in her life since Daddy's death.

I've never been pinned, or engaged, or involved in a torrid love affair. I wasn't even sure that I loved Nick, but my feelings for him were the closest I'd ever come to being in love. Surely, in this great big world, there was someone meant for me.

Melanie arrived in a whirl, dressed in tight faded jeans with soft suede butterscotch boots and a matching suede jacket. Her hair was bound back at the nape of her neck. I was wearing boots too with my long tube skirt because we'd had a hard freeze last night and the ground was cold.

"Am I late?" she asked.

"No. They haven't announced the plane's arrival yet."

"Why do I always let you get me involved in these crazy schemes? Here we are meeting people we don't even know and they don't know us. What are we supposed to do? Hold up one of those cardboard signs that says 'Mr. Dorfsman's Grandchildren'? Why do I always feel like I'm playing 'Ethel' to your 'Lucy'?"

I gave her a long look. "Melanie, you sure are cranky these days. You're not pregnant, are you?"

Her creamy complexion turned stark white. I thought she was going to drop. "Pregnant?" She blinked, then starting counting on her fingers. "No. Can't be." She punched my arm. "Don't ever scare me like that again, Ashley Wilkes, you hear."

The passengers from New York must have arrived while we were sharing this intimate moment, because all at once I heard a loud screech, "Ashley Wilkes! It can't be you!"

I'd know that voice anywhere. I whirled around to see a large woman bearing down on me.

"Kiki? Kiki, is that you?"

"We're here to meet--oh, no, it can't be--you're Scarlett's daughter?"

"You're Mr. Dorfsman's granddaughter?"

She was laughing, doubled over. "If you mean 'Rhett,' he's my mother's father. We're here for the wedding. I can't believe this. Your mother is marrying my grandfather in a mock wedding ceremony. And we're all going to be the little bridesmaids. Ain't life grand?" She threw her arms around me and hugged me to her oversized bosom.

Everything about my former college roommate Delores "Kiki" Piccolomini is over the top. She's almost six feet tall. She's big-boned, and there's a lot of meat on those bones. She's got the biggest brown eyes I've ever seen, and the fullest red lips. Her clothes stand out, colorful and flamboyant, but they suit her. For four years she'd been my best friend. I love her.

I wiggled out of her grip. Melanie was staring at Kiki like she was an alien from outer space. They had never met. The few times Melanie and Mama had come to see me in New York, Kiki had been out in New Jersey. Oh my gosh, visiting her grandfather!

I introduced them and Kiki grabbed a startled Melanie in a bear hug. "Any sister of Ashley's is a sister of mine," she said, her voice raspy and New Yorkish.

Melanie was speechless.

Behind Kiki, a man cleared his throat. Kiki reached around and pulled him forward. "You remember Ray, don't cha, Ashley?"

I extended my hand, feeling pleasantly surprised. Ray was Kiki's brother, older by one year. Melanie was watching us, as fascinated as if we were live theatre. I was eighteen when I'd met Ray. Throughout my years at Parsons, I hadn't seen much of him, he'd been studying at Stanford. I do remember Kiki telling me that he had applied to the Wharton School of Business. After graduation I returned South, and despite my best intentions, Kiki and I lost touch.

Melanie was sizing up Ray. I could see the wheels spinning in her brain. I knew just what she was thinking because I was thinking the same thing: Ray was a hunk. Ray was a male version of Kiki. The features that made Kiki exotic made Ray extraordinarily handsome. He was an inch or two taller than Kiki. His eyes were just as large and liquid, his lips just as full and sensuous. He exuded the same warmth and joie de vivre.

"What have you been doing? We've got to catch up," I said to Kiki.

"Haven't you heard? I'm the decorator to the stars."

"Oh no, you're that Delores!" Delores, Decorator to the Stars, the trade magazines called her. I never made the connection. "You're the one who decorates all those houses in Hollywood for famous movie stars, like Jennifer and Brad."

She spread a hand over her large bosom. "In person. I even give them readings." Kiki was the mistress of Tarot card readings.

"You're famous. She's famous, Melanie. Surely, even you've heard of her."

For once Melanie was flustered. "I can't say that I have."

"Now wait a minute here," I said. "Mama said Ray was a wizard. What's that about?"

Kiki snorted. Her loud peals of laughter rang through the atrium. People stopped to stare at this larger-than-life woman, dressed in flowing garments of brilliant purple and gold, in the throes of a fit of wild humor. She grabbed her belly.

Ray too got caught up in the merriment--when he wasn't pounding Kiki on the back.

After a coughing spell, Kiki cleared her throat and said, "They call Ray the 'Wizard of Wall Street.' He's the youngest futures trader to have his own seat on the Stock Exchange. What did your mother think, that he was some kind of Harry Potter?" She was off and giggling again.

Melanie, on the other hand, was quivering from the top of her auburn head to the tip of her butterscotch boots. A twenty-six year old member of the New York Stock Exchange who was also incredibly handsome? This was so much better than a forty-year old real estate developer who had to borrow money from her.

She smiled at them, and her dazzling smile disarmed the Piccolominis. Reaching up a hand, she unloosened her hair, and shook it so that it swirled around her shoulders. Then, looping an arm looped through Ray's, she led him from the terminal, her voice pouring over him as warm as syrup left out in the sun. "Mama said to show you some Southern hospitality, Ray Sugah, and I always do what my mama says."

29

The first card up was The Tower, the picture of a tall stone edifice on a rocky coastline above a boiling sea. The sky behind the tower was black and ominous. Poseidon was rising from the water, his tail whipping the waves into a froth. In his outstretched hand, a trident was aimed directly at the tower.

"I think the tower represents Joel's hotel," I said.

"You see in the cards what you need to see," Kiki replied.

Kiki is the mistress of the Tarot so I was in expert hands. If anyone could get to the root of the tragic events occurring in my life, it was Kiki and her Tarot cards.

Melanie had whisked Ray away from the airport in her Lexus. I'd driven Kiki into town to The Verandas where they'd stay until the day after Christmas when the bed and breakfast closed for a few days.

"You and Ray can move into my house then," I'd offered. "I have plenty of room."

Ray had arranged to have a rental car delivered to the B&B and it awaited us when we arrived. Melanie and Ray were parked in front of the Italianate mansion. "I'm taking Ray to lunch and for a drive around town," Melanie informed me through her lowered window. To Ray she said, "We've got one of the finest historic districts you'll see anywhere."

"Why don't you take Ray over to Palace Street and show him the bulldozers?" I quipped.

For an instant Melanie's smile faded but she recovered quickly. "Oh, pooh, you are such a silly. We'll meet you back here in a couple of hours so Ray can drive Kiki out to Magnolia Manor." Turning to Ray, she explained, "Ashley loves to tease. You must be so anxious to see your dear grandfather." They were off.

I helped Kiki carry her bags inside and get registered. Then we went to my house. On the drive in from the airport, I'd told Kiki all about the murders in my library. How Rachel's murderer had attacked me as he fled. She'd cringed when I told her about digging up the body in the backyard.

"What I need is a house blessing."

"I can do that," she declared.

"You?"

"Yes, me. I'm a Wiccan high priestess."

"You're a what?"

"A Wiccan high priestess. A witch, but only in the best sense. Some call us goddesses."

"You mean you cast spells, stuff like that?"

"I cast spells. I make charms and magical potions."

"Can you make a love potion?" I asked, scarcely breathing.

"Is there someone you want to fall in love with you?"

"Oh yes. If I could be sure of him, then maybe I could let go with him." I told her about Nick, how he threw himself into his work, how we quarreled when one of his cases involved me. "Can you do it?"

"Yes," she said thoughtfully. "But I want you to think carefully about this and be sure it's what you really want."

"I will. I'll give it a lot of thought. Are you saying you can't undo a spell once it's been cast?"

"It can be reversed, but it ain't easy, kid." From a tote bag at her feet she withdrew a small object wrapped in tissue paper and dropped it in my lap. "I want you to wear this for protection."

"What is it?" I asked suspiciously.

She laughed. "Nothing that will hurt you. It's an amulet. It'll protect you. Here I'll show you."

She took the gift from my lap and unwrapped the tissue paper. I glanced over to see a tiny blue cloth pouch stitched together with blue thread, attached to a long blue cord.

"It smells like herbs," I said.