Wishbones (12 page)

In my room, I picked up my script and plopped into the comfortable, overstuffed chair covered in lush rose velvet. I
wanted to be letter perfect for filming tomorrow. Several other actors were coming in for scenes, and it was a big day of shooting.

By the time I was satisfied with my rehearsal, dusk had fallen outside. My mother had called it "the blue hour," and I understood why. While dawn, with the pinks and roses of a new day, was promising, there was something about the fading of light from the sky that made me sad. Another day was ending, another cycle concluding.

Moving out to the balcony to stretch and take a breath of the fresh, wonderful air that blew in from the ocean, I saw movement in the gardens.

A slender figure in a red dress moved through the shrubs. My body tensed and I was on full alert. Somehow Estelle was back on the grounds and playing her games. I wasn't about to let her mess up Millie's dinner.

Sweetie and Chablis were nowhere to be found--gone with Graf, I presumed. The dogs had taken up with him, and while it did my heart good to see that Sweetie Pie had a father figure, I was a tad jealous. Especially in moments like this, when I needed my hound for a tracking job.

To my astonishment, the figure beckoned me.

"You bet your sweet ass I'm coming down," I mumbled, putting my words into action. "I'll be there before you can say Essie Mae Woodcock."

I slipped on my athletic shoes and crept down the stairs and into the blue dusk. From the kitchen I could hear Cece telling a story to some of the enthralled crew. My friends were hits with everyone, and I didn't want to disturb the joy of the evening. I'd have a few words with Estelle and convince her to let us finish the filming. If she left us alone, we'd conclude faster and get out of her mother's home.

The guard wasn't at the front door, but I assumed he was patrolling the grounds. Or sleeping. Obviously he wasn't keeping Estelle away.

My feet crunched on the shell drive as I jogged toward the gardens. Graf and I had explored them several times, finding alcoves where hibiscus grew in vivid shades and the sweet perfume of blossoms I couldn't identify seemed to drug the air. These were our secret canoodling places, and we sought them out when the urge to make out came upon us strong and irresistible. It was juvenile and naughty and thoroughly delicious.

I entered the garden. In places, the hedges were seven feet high, creating a wall of green that seemed impenetrable. But there were paths, small fountains, ponds and statuary throughout the five acres of formal gardens. I headed toward the place I'd last seen Estelle signaling me, a small clearing with a bench, a statue of Pan, and a fountain that babbled in clear, high notes. It was one of our favorite nooks.

"Estelle." I called her name as I jogged. I was eager for the confrontation.

The night fell softly around me, but in places the gardens were lit. I moved steadily west, or at least that's what I hoped. When I came out at the edge of the cliffs that led down to the ocean, I was a bit surprised. I hadn't thought I'd gone so far.

There was no sign of the woman in red, or Estelle, if that was who it was. No indication that she'd ever been in the gardens at all. Of course, she could be hiding beneath any hedge, laughing at me.

The chilling sense that someone was behind me made me spin around. "Estelle!" She was beginning to piss me off. "Come out and quit this foolishness."

The only sound was the soft cooing of a dove nesting somewhere in the tall shrubs. "Damn it, Estelle. This is getting old. Come out and talk. We'll be leaving in a few days so you can have the house to yourself."

No answer, no response. Even the dove fell silent.

"Great." I'd worked up a sweat jogging for no good reason.
But I was careful to keep my back to the drop-off. Jovan and Suzy Dutton had both been pushed. Suzy was dead, and Jovan was lucky.

And I was hungry, and I wanted to spend time with Graf and my friends. Before I left the gardens, I went to the edge of the cliff. In the pale moonlight, the waves, carrying a hint of green phosphorescence, were spectacular roaring onto the sand. Wild, savage, untamed, the ocean was the most mysterious of all earth's elements to me.

I was about to turn away when I saw the woman in red. She was below me on the sand, her right hand motioning to me. She touched her lips as if she meant to keep a secret.

"Damn it!" I spoke aloud. "I'm getting damn sick and tired of this bullshit." She was really pissing me off. I headed for the steep stairs that led to the beach. As far as I knew, there was no way off the beach except the stairs. I'd have her trapped, and then I meant to have a talk with her. I was sorry her mother was dead. I was sorry that she was so angry at her father that she'd ruin his career. But above all, I was tired of her playing dangerous games that could seriously harm some innocent person.

With a full head of steam, I charged down the steps and onto the beach. I was panting and sweating, even though the ocean breeze was cool. Far in the distance the woman beckoned me on. No matter how far I went, she was still ahead of me.

Either she was walking at the edge of the water, or she was a ghost. The fact that she left no footsteps registered on me with a chill.

In the distance, the waves pounded the rock formation shaped like a castle. White spray foamed over even the tallest outcropping, one that looked like a turret. It seemed she was going there, and I meant to catch her.

I put on a final burst of speed, so intent on catching her that I raced past a grove of trees that clung precariously to the cliff
wall. With long, slender trunks, they seemed to reach out toward me in the moonlight, swaying in the breeze and causing shadows to dance and skitter on the sand.

The woman in the red dress ran ahead of me, stopping momentarily to turn and make sure I was following. I was gaining on her, and my anger was steadily increasing. Once I got hold of her--if it was Estelle, and I was pretty certain it was--I meant to shake some sense into her.

Dodging through the trees, I sprinted. I never heard anyone behind me. Not even a whisper of sound to alert me. The last thing I remembered was a blinding pain in my head and I dropped into unconsciousness before I hit the dirt.

The cold awakened me. That and the taste of salt. When my eyes opened, it took me a few moments to realize what had happened. Cold salt water washed over my feet and retreated, while spray doused my face and body. I couldn't move my arms or legs, and my only company was a million stars that winked in a perfect velvet night and the empty stretch of beach. High above me, on the cliff, I knew the lights of the mansion were warm and welcoming. But I was a long, long way from safety.

I was tied to the castle rock on the edge of the ocean.

Bad enough, but it got worse. The tide was coming in.

My first attempt to yell taught me that the pounding of the surf completely drowned me out. No one would hear me, and with each wave that smashed on the rocks below, the water inched higher and higher.

I'd never stayed on the beach long enough to determine if the rock was completely submerged by the tide. I'd never asked anyone. Unless I managed to get myself untied, I was going to find out the hard way.

"Help!" I screamed. "Help!" No one could hear me, but there wasn't anything else I could do.

From my blind side came the sound of a deep, warm
chuckle. Whoever had knocked me unconscious and bound me to the rock was hanging around to watch--and laughing about it.

"Untie me, you bastard." I sounded like Linda Blair in
The Exorcist.
"When I get loose, I'm going to cut your gizzard out and fry it up with some bologna."

My only answer was another warm laugh.

It was impossible, but I knew that laugh! "Jitty?" I didn't dare to believe it. I'd never known Jitty to leave Dahlia House. In my hour of need, had she come to save me?

"You sure know how to get your ass in hot water, or cold water in this instance."

I couldn't see her, but I knew it was her. "Untie me, Jitty. Thank God you came! I knew you wouldn't really leave me. Not when I needed you."

"You need something, but it may not be me." She shimmered into being sitting on one of the rocks not two feet away. She wore an eye-popping bikini and diving tanks and gear and she carried a spear gun and a huge knife. Halle Berry as a Bond girl.

"Cut me loose, and then tell me what in the hell you're doing with diving gear. You grew up in the Delta. Nobody in the Delta scuba dives."

"Sarah Booth, you're forgetting that I'm noncorporeal, as you keep insisting when you explain the rules of the Great Beyond to everyone." She smiled. "I can't untie you or cut you free."

"Then do something else! I don't care how you do it, just get me off this rock."

"I'm here to give you comfort."

"You're here pissing me off as payback for leaving Dahlia House."

"I'm not that kind of ghost, Sarah Booth. I'm not into extracting revenge. But I will say tick tock, Sarah Booth. You aren't getting any younger and if you don't pop out a
young-un, what will happen to Dahlia House? I just don't see you on the baby track in Hollywood and that's been worrying me."

The nice Jitty, so tender and kind when I'd been heartbroken about leaving Dahlia House, was gone. Bad Jitty was sitting in front of me.

"I won't be alive to spawn if you don't help."

"Calm down, Sarah Booth, you won't drown."

The instant she said it, I did calm down. "How can you be so certain?"

"I know your friends. They'll go to your room and when you aren't there, they'll hunt for you. When they open the front door, Sweetie will bound out into the night and track you. They'll follow. Trust me, it's a done deal."

The water had risen to my waist, and I could only hope that Jitty had the wisdom of her years. If nothing else, she'd calmed me enough so that I was thinking clearly. With the water soaking the ropes that bound me, I might be able to get some stretch out of them. I began to wiggle my feet.

"That's my girl. You ain't no quitter, Sarah Booth. Remember that."

"Thank you, Jitty. For coming. How did--"

"Don't ask and I won't tell. That's the policy in the Great Beyond." She leaned closer. "It's like I told you, I'm never too far away. If you really need me, I'll come."

She was starting to fade. I didn't want to be left alone. "Jitty! Where are you going?"

"I got a date with a handsome man. We're gonna play 007. You're not the only member of the Delaney family who can hang out with stars."

She was gone. Just like that. Infuriating and terrifying all at once. And with her went all of my false courage. I was going to drown!

The sound of baying drifted to me, and my hope rose so rapidly that I gave myself a headache. It was hard to hear with
the surf crashing around me, but I distinctly heard a hound--my hound. I'd recognize Sweetie's voice anywhere.

"Sweetie! Sweetie Pie!"

Her lovely bark rode the wind to me.

Mixed in with the bays and the surf, I heard voices. Graf called out to Tinkie and I also heard the Spanish accent of Daniel Martinez. They were drawing closer--and with no time to lose. The tide was rising rapidly now, up to my chest. I focused on wiggling the ropes until I finally got one foot free.

I used that to push myself higher up the rock, hoping that the abrasion of the rope against the rock would free me.

"Sarah Booth!" Graf was running toward me not twenty yards behind Sweetie, who was in a dead gallop.

"Here! On the rock!"

"Get down!" Graf hollered.

For one split second I wanted to beat him. "I'm tied to the rock. Hurry!"

I didn't think he could run faster, but that spurred him on. He was beside me, half running, half swimming. He didn't waste time but went underwater to find the knots that held me.

When he came up sputtering, I could see that he was terrified for me.

"Martinez, hurry! Bring a knife."

Tinkie didn't wait for Daniel. She snatched the knife from his hand and ran like a track star. I'd seldom seen Tinkie exert herself physically--the only running Tinkie did was in "running the Club" or "running Oscar's life." But coming toward me across that night-shaded sand, she was pretty damn spectacular.

She was beside me in a moment, and as soon as she gave Graf the knife, he dove into the water and cut the rope. In seconds I was free and we were all swimming toward shore and an impromptu welcoming committee that waited on the sand. Millie, Cece, and the dinner guests had all come to see what was happening on the beach.

And right behind them was a horde of photographers and reporters.

"Oh, shit," I said, gripping Graf's arm. "We'd better think fast. If word about this gets out, it'll be all over the place and the movie will tank."

Graf reacted quickly. He swept me into his arms and brushed past everyone. "She's fine, she's fine. She just got caught in the current. She's perfectly fine."

A cheer went up and Cece and Millie fell into step beside us. We marched triumphantly through the reporters, my arms around Graf's neck and my gaze upon "my hero." I was really getting the hang of the acting business.

"You may fool those other reporters, but you aren't fooling me," Cece whispered as soon as we were clear of the crowd.