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Authors: Fern Michaels

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Chapter 18
B
ernice arrived at 4:00
AM
, only to discover Sophie, Mavis, and Toots gathered in the formal living room, their sewing machines humming away. Coffee lingered in the air, and someone had made toast. Bernice could smell it.
“What in the world are you doing up early, sewing? You keep straining your eyes like that, and you'll all be blind before you reach the ripe old age of seventy.”
Toots looked up from her sewing. “We just started an hour ago. We all woke up early and decided to get started. The post office closes at noon, and these packages have to go out this morning. We figured the more we had ready to ship, the happier Mavis's customers will be. Plus, I promised Jamie I would bring you all down to the bakery for a treat. She's been dying to meet you.”
Bernice shook her head from side to side. “No way, José. I saw what happened to that fat man. I'll stay here and have a bowl of Froot Loops, thank you very much.”
Toots rolled her eyes. “If that old building is haunted, which I seriously doubt, it isn't her doing. The building was left to her by her grandmother. She's simply a young woman trying to make a living. And she certainly doesn't look like a witch. She's a blond-haired, blue-eyed pixie. You will all adore her. She kind of reminds me of Abby.”
“Then I can't wait to meet her,” Mavis said. “I might even try one of those pralines you're so fond of.”
“Have you talked to your daughter since you purchased this . . . sweet shop?” Bernice asked. “She might want to know what her mother is up to.”
Toots hadn't, but she would. “Abby is busy running a newspaper right now. I'll call her this afternoon, after I take Mavis in to see Joe.” Something told her Abby and Chris would be just fine without her right now. Call it a mother's intuition. Toots would know if Abby needed her; plus she would call. She was a smart girl.
Just like her mother,
Toots thought and laughed out loud just as Ida came downstairs and joined the others.
“Mind telling us what you're laughing at?” Ida said, a slight tilt to her perfectly shaped mouth.
“I was thinking about Abby and Chris. There's a spark between those two, just like there was between John and me.”
“I sensed that, too,” Mavis said. “Chris is such a sweet boy. I think he would make a suitable mate for Abby, don't you?”
Sophie sputtered and sputtered, coffee flying all over the piece of material she had on her lap. “Earth to Mavis. This is the twenty-first century. You sound like someone from the eighteen hundreds. ‘A suitable mate.' ”
Mavis mopped up the spill with a baby wipe, a trick she had learned from George. Said it was an old secret in the dry cleaning business. And all this time they'd been spending a small fortune on dry cleaning, Sophie thought, when a three-dollar box of baby wipes would do the trick.
“You know what I mean,” Mavis said sweetly.
“I've always hoped they would get together,” Toots said.
“Something tells me you might just get your wish,” Ida added. “I've seen the way they look at each other.”
“Stay in touch with your daughter,” Bernice said, then scurried out of the living room and into the kitchen.
Immediately, Toots knew why Bernice was so abrupt. As usual, her son had never called. She found her in the kitchen, scrubbing countertops that were already spotless.
“He didn't call, did he?”
“Does he ever?” Bernice continued to scrub the counters with a vengeance. “I never thought he would act this way, turn on his very own mother. Well, maybe that's the wrong way of saying it. He just plain forgot about me. Running all over the country, trying to find himself? I wonder how many trips it's gonna take before he learns that he is who he is no matter where he goes.”
Toots grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the table. She opened the back door, then lit up in the kitchen, something she rarely did. Bernice needed to talk, and she needed to smoke. Concessions must always be made for whatever the circumstance.
Toots inhaled, loving every ounce of nicotine that ruined her lungs. “It's his generation. They're strange. Family and home don't mean as much to them as it did to our generation. Even Abby couldn't wait to escape to the big city after she graduated from college. I guess what I'm trying to say is, take what you can get, when you can get it, because I don't see future generations making a change.”
Bernice nodded. “You're right. I'll be okay. I just need a while to pout, bitch, moan, and groan. I'm at the I-feel-sorry-for-myself stage now. I'll be fine. Go on and help Mavis finish those clothes. I'll bring in fresh coffee when it's ready.”
Toots knew she'd been dismissed from her own kitchen, but that was okay. It was Bernice's way. They'd been friends since Abby was five. They were more than friends, Toots thought as she went back to the formal living room. They were family.
The next five hours they stitched, pressed, and packed. They had more than enough material to fill Mavis's orders, but not enough womanpower. Toots suggested Mavis contact a manufacturing company, because something told her Good Mourning was going to be big, very big. Mavis said she had a few contacts in California. After seeing forty-seven more orders on the Web site that morning, Toots figured she'd better start making phone calls. As much as she wanted to jump in, this was Mavis's gig. She'd fronted her the ten thousand dollars, but Toots knew as soon as Mavis had the cold, hard cash in hand, she would return the money. For Mavis, it was a matter of pride, so Toots would accept the money, albeit reluctantly.
Now, if they got away with stealing the material, they would be good to go. Toots was afraid to listen to the local news for fear their theft would show up on it. Telling herself to forget about it, she put last night's wild, crazy event behind her. She had places to go and things to do.
At ten, they had the boxes packed and ready to be taken to the post office. That left them all an hour to shower and change and get ready for the ride into Charleston. Toots couldn't wait for Jamie to meet her dearest friends, and she couldn't wait for those dearest friends to meet her new business partner.
With a stop to deliver the packages to the post office, it was past lunchtime by the time they arrived at The Sweetest Things. Unlike her last visit, Toots viewed the bakery with the eye of a partner instead of the consumer. Half a dozen customers lingered around the display case. Melted butter, sugar, and rising dough gave off a pleasing scent. When Jamie saw her and her friends, she came flying out of the kitchen, flour dusting the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Her hair stuck up in tufts like tiny bird feathers. Her blue eyes sparkled like sapphires.
“These must be the godmothers. I've heard so much about all of you.”
Toots made quick work of introducing her friends to Jamie. Once they'd all gotten past the introduction and formalities, Jamie sat them down and served them her most delectable pastries, petits fours, and pralines. Sticking to her die-hard rules, Mavis had only one praline. Toots had three pralines, two chocolate-chip cookies, one slice of red velvet cake, and a large glass of milk. This place would ruin her figure if she stuck around. Being a silent partner was a very wise decision on her part. As much as she loved sweets, she would be like the blueberry girl in
Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.
After they finished gorging themselves on Jamie's pastries, she showed them the kitchen, then showed Toots the books, the dollars coming in, and what was going out, plus what her future expectations were. She was pleased with the figures so far, even though it had been only a day since word started circulating via the grapevine that the fat man had had clogged arteries and had acted against doctor's orders by even being in line at the bakery while awaiting surgery to open those same arteries up. All things considered, Toots was very satisfied with her decision to buy into the bakery. Her gut told her she was straight on.
“Jamie, you're the best baker in the world, but don't be offended if I don't show up too often. Another day like this, and I'll turn into a diabetic.”
Jamie gave Toots a hug, thanked her several times for her trust and support, and gave Sophie, Mavis, and Ida hugs as well before they left. Knowing they wouldn't have an opportunity to do this anytime in the near future, Toots decided to take her friends on a tour of Charleston. She drove through the Battery, down Rainbow Row, and ended at the slave market. She parked the car, and for the next three hours they roamed through the stalls, buying all sorts of silly things. Mavis bought three bottles of hot sauce, telling them hot sauce acted as an appetite suppressant. Sophie bought a deck of tarot cards, and Ida purchased a sleep shirt, a tacky purse, and a silver necklace she knew would turn her neck green within an hour of putting it on. Toots bought nothing.
Been there, done that,
she thought.
On the ride home, they were all quiet, each lost in her own thoughts. Sophie had another séance planned for that night. She promised that this time they wouldn't be disappointed.
Chapter 19
A
s Sophie, Toots, Ida, and Mavis prepared for the evening's séance, a hint of trepidation filled the air.
“I'm not sure if we should go through with this. If we're able to contact spirits, and they have the ability to manipulate the objects around us, I'm afraid something might go horribly wrong,” Ida said as they placed the candles around the table.
“You're the one who wanted to make contact with Thomas. This was your idea. I'm just the medium, that's all,” Sophie said.
“But what if what he said was true? What if he was really poisoned by something other than tainted meat? Then what?” Ida asked.
“Then I will call Chris. He won't laugh at us. He's seen what's gone on at the beach house. It's too bad all that expensive equipment Sophie invested a small fortune in didn't reveal anything. If it had, we'd have our own TV reality show by now,” Toots said.
“Are you sure this is safe? I wouldn't want to open any of those . . . portals you two are always discussing,” Ida said.
“You read my mind, Ida,” Sophie said. “I called the woman in California who I bought the book from, and I told her our situation. She gave me some advice. In the book it says we have the ability to contact a specific spirit. We need to eliminate the chance that it could harm us. Even if the person was family in life, he or she could be malicious in death. The book has specific instructions on how to make sure that if any spirits come through, they will not be able to harm us.”
“How do we do that?” Ida asked.
“In the book, there is a chant we can say to assure that no spirits harm us and only come forth with good intent,” Sophie explained.
“What is it? Something like ‘Dear dead people, please don't choke us to death'?” Toots said, laughing.
“No, it's nothing like that. It's whatever we want it to be. Just consider it something like a prayer that protects us from evil and evil actions,” Sophie explained again. She was so serious that the others blinked. This was a different Sophie.
Ida lit the candle in front of her and placed it in the center of the table. “I'm hesitant to believe that, but the book did work last time, so I'm willing to give it a shot. Maybe this will set my mind at ease.”
“Sophie, do you think you could add something to the effect of ‘Please don't mess with my clothing, since I don't want to ruin any more mourning clothes,' ” Mavis pleaded.
“We don't need to wear mourning clothes this time around,” Sophie told her. “Just remember, this is something I've never tried before. Again, you all have to be willing to have the bejesus scared out of you.”
“You're so eloquent,” Toots said. “Are you sure you know what you're doing?”
“Yes, I'm sure, or at least as sure as one can be given the circumstances. You don't have to sit here and participate. I'm not going to force you. If you're chicken, then just leave. Frankly, I think we should expect just about anything. Remember, we are here to contact Thomas. We want to find out who and why and if he was murdered. We might not like what we hear. He could've been murdered by someone we know, possibly someone in this room.” Sophie cast an evil eye in Ida's direction.
“Don't even say that!” Ida exclaimed. “As far as I'm concerned, Thomas died of food poisoning. If anything other than that happened, I certainly had no involvement. I can't believe you would even think such a thing, let alone say it.”
“I know you didn't kill Thomas. I just think we need to get ahold of our emotions until we're finished. No matter how upsetting it can get, we need to hold ourselves together so we can find out the truth,” Sophie said seriously.
Mavis walked around the room, checking the candles, closing the drapes, and making sure the air conditioner vents were directed away from the table. “Okay, Sophie, it's set up the same way as before. Are you ready to do this?”
They each took their usual seats around the table, all traces of their earlier silliness locked away. Though this had started out as fun and games, it had turned into something very serious and possibly very scary.
“This is something new I'm going to try, so don't laugh,” Sophie said. “In order to communicate with Thomas in a way we can understand him, the book says we should use a method known as psychic writing.”
“What the hell is psychic writing?” Toots asked.
“Well, it's where a loved one of the deceased concentrates and thinks of the person she wishes to communicate with while holding a pencil and scribbling in circles on a piece of paper. The book says that if the spirit comes through, it has the ability to manipulate the writing and get its message across. Ida, that means you're going to have to do this. Are you up for this?”
“Yes I'm up for it, but I'm hesitant to think that it will work. What am I supposed to write so that the spirit will guide my hand and deliver a message?” Ida asked.
“
You
don't write anything at all.
You
just need to concentrate and scribble in circles.
The spirit
will channel his or her energy into you, and it's supposed to trigger your subconscious into writing the message. We just need a pad of paper and a pencil. The book says that the graphite in the pencil helps energy flow through you and allows the spirit to communicate in words rather than moving water glasses.”
“This might sound crazy, but it just might work. I have a leather binder that belonged to Thomas. He took it everywhere with him on his business trips. I even think there's some old paper left in there. If he's going to come through, that definitely would be the object he would write on. He used to sit in bed at night dictating notes for his secretary to type.”
“That's not a bad idea. Why don't you run upstairs and find that? Then we'll get started,” Sophie suggested, displaying none of the goofiness and sarcasm involved in her normal way of communicating. This was becoming more important to her. If she could help those on the other side, then she was going to do everything in her power to do just that. Maybe this was her true calling in life. And hadn't Madame Butterfly told her she had a gift?
Sophie flipped through her guidebook while waiting for Ida to locate Thomas's binder. Mavis ran to the kitchen to check on Coco. Toots reclined in her chair, looking as relaxed as a cat sunning herself in the window on a warm day.
“Here it is.” Worn, aged from years of use, the leather-bound binder still held several sheets of legal paper. Once yellow, these had whitened with age, the paper now brittle and delicate.
“Is everyone ready to get started?” Sophie looked at Ida, then at Mavis, and lastly at Toots as they returned to the séance room. All three nodded in the affirmative.
“We need to hold hands. Ida, you just hold Mavis's hand and keep the pencil in your right hand. When we are finished with our protection prayer, start scribbling in circles and don't look at the pad no matter what happens,” Sophie instructed.
Ida reached for Mavis with her left hand while holding the pencil in her right hand. Sophie reached for Toots's left hand, while Toots linked her right hand with Mavis's left hand. Once they were in position, Sophie began her prayer.
“To our highest power, we ask for your protection from benevolent spirits, and ask St. Michael the Archangel to watch over us and protect us from malevolent spirits who might want to inflict harm upon us. We are here to summon the spirit of Thomas McGullicutty.” Sophie bowed her head as she spoke.
“Thomas, we received your message, and we know your death is suspicious. We are here tonight to find out what caused your early exit from this earthly realm and sent you into the afterlife before your time.” Sophie began to chant in a whisper, “Please help us help you. Please help us help you.”
The others caught on quickly and began to chant. “Please help us help you.” They repeated this several times. Ida's hand poised on the paper, she began to scribble, her eyes closed.
“Thomas, if you have a message for us, please come forward,” Sophie said in a soft voice. So out of character was her behavior that Toots opened her eyes just to make sure it was really Sophie speaking in such soft, melodic tones. It was.
Sophie continued to request that Thomas make an appearance. “You've appeared to us before. You must have a reason now. You can reveal the cause of your death. Tell us now so we may be able to find justice for you and you can have peace.”
Toots peeked at Sophie again. She was into this. Big-time. And it was scary. Big-time.
“Oh my gosh!” Ida cried, scaring them all. “I feel like . . . like someone has plugged me into an electrical outlet!”
In a low, almost seductive tone, Sophie said, “Focus, Ida. Focus on Thomas. Keep your mind open.”
Ida nodded. “I feel some type of supernatural energy rushing through me.” Continuing to keep her eyes closed, she scribbled in circles.
“Continue to think about Thomas,” Sophie encouraged.
Ida's hand went wild across the paper. She was writing so fast, Sophie was afraid she might be pretending just for show. Then she saw the terror on her friend's face and realized that not only was Ida afraid, but she no longer had control of her hand. That was beyond anything she'd expected.
Suddenly, the temperature in the room dropped at least twenty degrees. Someone not of this world was definitely in the room with them. Sophie opened her eyes and scanned the room. Though she couldn't actually see anything, she could feel a spirit. It was an unhappy spirit.
Ida suddenly began to write in a precise motion. Left to right. Left to right. Sophie peered at the paper. The words
It's Thomas
were slashed across the page at least a dozen times, if not more. She took a deep breath.
This is truly serious,
she thought.
Okay, I can do this.
“Thomas, thank you for making yourself known. We know your death was unexpected. Is there something you want to tell Ida?” Sophie paused, waiting for a response.
Ida's writing slowed; then suddenly she began to write so fast, the sharp edge of the pencil tore the page. Not wanting to lose a word, Sophie quickly slipped a fresh sheet of paper in place of the tattered one.
In a quick fluid motion Ida started writing again.
My Daughter. My Daughter. My Daughter.
Over and over, Ida continued to write these words.
“Thomas, do you know who poisoned you?” Sophie asked. She peered at the sheet of paper. Ida was still writing the words
My Daughter. My Daughter. My Daughter.
Quietly, so low they could barely hear her, Ida said, “I can feel the energy leaving my body. Ask. Him. Who. Killed. Him.” Ida spoke each word as though it were painful, as if she were struggling to speak.
Sophie caught Toots's attention. She mouthed, “We need to stop.”
Toots nodded in agreement.
“Thomas, you may leave now. We have your message. We will speak to you again.” She almost said, “We come in peace,” but decided this was too serious for her offbeat humor.
Ida's hand went limp, as though the bone had simply liquefied. The pencil fell out of her grasp, rolling to the floor.
Mavis gasped, jumping out of her chair and knocking over the candle in front of her. Ida went completely limp, falling back into the chair's cushions. Toots ran around the table, hoping to catch Ida in case she started to fall. Sophie grabbed the papers Ida had written on before they were destroyed.
Tonight they'd opened a doorway.
Exactly where it would lead them, they had no clue.

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