Breaking the Chain (4 page)

             
He watched her out of the corner of his eye as they covered the short distance to the grocery store. From the look on her face, he was sure she knew more about what happened than she was letting on. He just hoped that this time whoever it was calling her wasn't somebody who'd been dead for a hundred years.
             
             
           
    

7
             
 

Sadie tucked the straps of her purse into the crook of her arm and grabbed her battered suitcase by its cracked leather handle. "I'm ready. Let's get."
             
"I'm right behind you," Justine said, eyeing the room for forgotten items. Satisfied they'd left nothing behind, she pulled the door shut and twisted the handle.
             
"Why did you lock the door? Ain't nobody gonna go into the room and steal our stuff."
             
"I don't want anyone stealing something after we leave and the hotel charging us for it," Justine said, guiding her into the elevator. "This way we don't have to worry about it." A loud "ping" announced the lobby, and as the two women stepped from the elevator, she pulled Sadie to one side. "Why don't you wait on the front porch for the taxi while I check out," she suggested. "I won't be long."
             
"It better get here quick. I want to get to the plantation before dark."
             
"Don't worry. It won't be dark for hours." She patted Sadie's shoulder with one hand and pointed to the front entrance with the other. "The taxi stand is right outside that door."
             
Sadie shuffled forward. As she stepped onto the porch, a taxi drew to a halt near the curb. Motioning with her cane, she called to the driver.
             
Justine caught up with them as the driver stowed Sadie's battered and worn suitcase into the trunk. "Here's the last one," she said, handing him another.
             
"Where to ladies?"
             
"Maison de Fleur plantation, please," Justine said.
             
"You ladies guests there?"
             
"Not exactly."
             
"Well, you're in for a real surprise. It's been fixed up real nice."
             
"What do you mean, fixed up?" Sadie asked.
             
He peered at their reflections in the rear-view mirror. "Haven't you heard? Somebody bought that plantation and turned it into a hotel or something."
             
Justine leaned forward. "You don't by any chance know who bought it, do you?"
             
"Some old lady and her niece. I don't know much about it, except that the niece and her husband are running the joint."
             
"The niece that's running it. Her name wouldn't be Mary Corbett, would it?"
             
He scratched his head. "I don't know. Why you asking all these questions about the plantation? You a reporter or something?" He twisted so he could see their faces. "No, I guess not; you both too old. You ain't planning on making no trouble for them, are you? 'Cause if you are, you can just get out right here."
             
"Lord, no. We used to live in the house and wondered who bought it, that's all," Justine answered. "We've come back to visit for a few days."
             
"Well, in that case I guess it's all right. I thought you looked familiar. Say, didn't you used to live there before old Mr. Ventereux died?"
             
"Yes. I was the housekeeper."
             
"Ain't nobody's business why we going there," Sadie interrupted. "You keep your eyes on the road and quit asking nosey questions."
             
"Well, if that's the way you want to be, then fine," he sniffed. "I'm not one for sticking my nose where it don't belong."
             
Justine was glad when the outline of the plantation loomed in the distance. As they drew closer, she let out a gasp. Instead of a sagging porch with rotted beams, stately columns framed the front of the house. A new roof, adorned with dormer windows framed the second and third stories, and a fresh coat of paint replaced the peeled and cracked exterior she remembered. Pale yellow shutters called attention to the long, vertical windows in the front of the house and a new verandah, complete with porch swings, beckoned visitors to while away the afternoon in the shade. As they stepped from the cab, the heady aroma of rosebushes wafted toward them, intertwined with the smell of cut grass.
             
"Looks a lot different, don't it?" the driver grinned.
             
"Lordy, lordy, Sadie, would you look at this place?" Justine murmured. "It's a miracle. I never imagined it could look so beautiful."
             
"Rumor is they spent a fortune restoring this place," the driver continued. "Seems like the old woman's loaded and money was no object." He held out grubby fingers. "Speaking of money, that'll be thirty-five dollars, please."
             
"Thirty-five dollars? You ain't nothing but a highway robber," Sadie squawked.
             
"I beg your pardon. It's a long way out here, and most drivers charge fifty bucks to bring folks out. I'm giving you a discount 'cause you old and used to live here, but if my generosity ain't appreciated..."
             
"I'm so sorry Sadie's hurt your feelings," Justine interrupted. "She's having a hard time with the trip. We really do appreciate the discounted rate." She counted out forty dollars and placed the money in his hand. "Here's your money, plus a tip," she soothed. "It was nice of you to do that for us, and we are grateful."
             
"Well, I won't be doing it a second time, you can count on that," he grumbled, getting into his cab. "This is the last time I do something nice for old folks. Kindness just ain't appreciated no more."
             
"Don't stand there gawking. It's hot out here and I want a drink of water," Sadie ordered as the taxi rumbled down the drive. "Go knock on the door and see who's home."
             
"You better learn to be a little nicer to folks," Justine warned. "One of these days I won't be here to smooth things over for you. Where will you be then?"
             
"Same place I always been--rights here."
             
"Well, it wouldn't hurt you to be kinder," Justine continued.
             
The door opened and Mary stepped onto the porch. "Can I help you..." she began. "Oh my God. Justine! Sadie! I can't believe you're here!"
             
"Well, we ain't no ghosts," Sadie sniped. "Ain't you gonna ask us in, or is you too good for folks like us now?"
             
"I'm sorry. Please, please come in. It's just that I'm surprised to see you."
             
Dark glittering eyes, framed by bushy eyebrows, raked her face. "You ain't surprised," Sadie said. "You knowed we was coming."
             
Mary paused in the hallway. "I knew you were going to come, but I didn't think it would be this soon."
             
Jack's voice boomed from the rear of the house. "What is it honey, guests?"
             
"Jack, come quick. You'll never believe who's here. It's Sadie and Justine!"
             
He appeared in the doorway, wiping his hands on a towel. "Good God, so it is. Would you believe we've been trying to figure out a way to contact you for weeks?"
             
"Well, we're here now," Sadie said. She turned to Mary. "You and I got to talk, child."
             
Justine patted Sadie's arm. "I know you need to talk to Mary, but let's wait until we get settled. Okay? I doubt if anything's going to happen in the next thirty minutes or so." She glanced at Mary. "I'm assuming your invitation to stay at the plantation was genuine?"
             
"Oh, yes. Let me show you to your rooms. Jack, would you please take their bags up to the second floor?" She turned to the two old women. "Is the second floor all right? The stairs aren't that steep, but if you'd rather be on the first floor, I'm sure we can find something."
             
"I ain't climbing no stairs," Sadie declared. "Ain't you got no rooms down here?"
             
"It's no problem, Sadie. We have two bedrooms at the rear of the house, but they aren't as nice as the ones upstairs."
             
"Don't care about no fripperies," Sadie said. "I'm here 'cause you gonna need me, child. Spirits done told me so."
             
"The rooms are just down the hall. I'm sure you'll want to freshen up after that long taxi ride. Have you eaten? I'll be glad to make something for you."
             
"That would be nice," Justine said. "Sadie was in such a hurry to come, we missed lunch."
             
As she left the two old women, Mary wondered what Sadie had to tell her that was so urgent. Something had prompted the two old women to come to the plantation. She could only hope that this time Sadie's message wouldn't be a portent for disaster.

             
           
    
8
             
 

             
Streaks of lightning filled the sky as Elizavon picked up her glasses for the third time in as many minutes. When they fell off once again, she reached for the intercom line to the cockpit. "Can't you fly this plane any better? I've nearly been thrown out of my seat."
             
"I'm sorry, Ms. Phelps. We're in the midst of a severe thunderstorm and no matter what I do, I can't avoid the turbulence." He cleared his throat. "I was just getting ready to tell you that we'll need to make an unscheduled landing to wait out the storm."
             
"Why didn't you tell me this sooner? We could have turned around and gone back to the plantation."
             
"I thought we'd be out of the bad weather by now, but this front's bigger than the forecast indicated. If we turn back, we'll still have the same problem, so waiting out the storm is our only option."
             
"And just where do you propose to land, Mr. Dykes? On top of somebody's house or against the side of a building?"
             
"No, Ms. Phelps. I've checked the map, and it looks like there's a decent landing strip just outside Roanoke. It's about ten minutes
airtime
from where we are, so we won't be too far off course. I was trying to contact the air traffic control tower when you called."
             
"I don't care where you land this damn plane, just get us out of this turbulence. Now." Elizavon folded her hands in her lap and leaned back as the plane banked to the right. Streaks of lightning continued to flash across the sky and claps of thunder roared in her ears. Attuned to the plane's every move, she felt the slight thump of the wheels as they contacted the runway. Well, at least they hadn't crashed into a building.
             
Leaning forward, she peered out the small window on her right and noted that a thick curtain of black obscured the surrounding landscape. That was odd. Why couldn't she see the air control tower or terminal? It wasn't raining that hard...
             
"Why is it so dark?" she demanded. "I don't see any runway or tower lights. Where the hell are we?"
             
"We've had to make an emergency landing on a small runway outside Roanoke's main airport," Dykes explained. "I think that last bolt of lightning struck one of our engines, and I didn't want to take any chances. I radioed the main control tower and they guided me to this emergency runway. They're sending a car to pick us up."
             
"You'd better be able to fix the damage," she warned. "We'll discuss this incident once we get to Boston and I've checked out your story. I've been flying for over twenty years and never had this kind of problem before."
             
"It's a bad storm, Ms. Phelps. And it wasn't on the forecast or radar screen before we left St. Francisville. I'm going to check the engine. I'll let you know when the car gets here."
             
"Well, I'm certainly not going out in the rain. That's what I pay you for. Good money, I might add." She peered out the window. A small beam of light bobbed up and down as Dykes climbed out the plane. Moments later she heard the bang of metal striking metal, and wondered what he was doing. The noise was almost rhythmic, like something she'd heard before, but before she could place the sounds, they stopped.
             
The cone shaped beam from his flashlight swung left to right, then up and down. What on earth was that idiot doing? She unbuckled her seatbelt and stomped toward the exit, but paused when the glare of oncoming headlights gleamed in the distance. Dykes must have seen the lights and was trying to guide them to the plane. Maybe he wasn't as asinine as she thought.
             
There were two cars, not one. She watched as he walked over and leaned in the driver's window. The driver of the second car joined him. A few minutes later he returned.
             
"Well?"
             
"I spoke to the driver and he'll drive you to Roanoke, which is about thirty minutes from here. The other guy's a certified mechanic, and he's gonna help me take another look at the engine. I can get whatever parts we need from their warehouse. This rain's supposed to let up by morning, which means I can work on the engine as soon as it gets light. If we're lucky, we can be back in the air before nine."
             
"You better have me back in the air sooner than that." She dismissed him with a wave. "Get my luggage. I'm still trying to decide if I'm going to take the cost of a hotel room out of your salary, since this is your fault."
             
"Yes ma'am." He grabbed an umbrella held it over her head. "I'll see you in the morning, Ms. Phelps."
             
"How do you expect me to return?" she asked. "Sprout wings and fly?"
             
"I've made arrangements with the driver to pick you up at 8:30. He'll bring you back here. If there's any problem with the repairs, I'll let you know. Everything's been taken care of."
             
"Well, don't think I like this one bit. Consider yourself lucky you still have a job."
             
He watched her car disappear into the darkness, then headed back to the plane. Even with the rain pelting down, there was still much to do. It was going to be one hell of a long night.