Page 24 of The Lady on Esplanade
She took a step down, making me realize that I was blocking her way.I turned and headed to the bottom of the stairs, still holding the doll.I approached the cabinet where I’d seen Christopher put her, and then I paused.A familiar set of wet footprints led across the marble tile of the foyer before coming to a full stop at the bottom of the stairs.
Camille appeared not to have noticed, as she walked past me and into the parlor.I shoved the doll back into the cabinet and hurried to follow her.The sound of something clattering onto the floor behind me made me turn.I darted my eyes around, expecting to see someone.Or something.But the foyer and staircase appeared empty.Which, as I’d long since learned, didn’t mean they were.
“Aren’t you coming?”
I swung around at the sound of Beau’s voice from the doorway.
“You’re usually like a boll weevil in a cotton field when there’sfood on the table, so I was sent to see if anything was wrong….”His voice tapered off as he spotted the footprints.We both noticed the small object lying on the floor near the last set.
Remembering the sound of something hitting the floor behind me, I bent to retrieve the object.Holding it up, I said, “It looks like—”
“An earring,” Beau finished.He took it from me and shook it so that its myriad gold circles within circles would clink softly together.
Our eyes met over the earring.“I’ve seen it before,” I said.“Twice.”The first time had been in Jackson Square.The second, in front of my house when the fortune teller had come to see me to tell me that Beau needed to talk to her.“It’s Madame Zoe’s.But I think your mom brought it for you to see.”
“No, that can’t be right.She’s not talking to me tonight.I could have sworn that was what was supposed to happen, but my mother hasn’t passed on any messages as far as I can tell.”
“That’s not true.”I tapped the earring, making it shimmy.“This is a message from Adele.Maybe she got tired of trying to get through to you, so she’s trying me now, in a way I can understand.And I think she’s trying to tell us that you need to go see Madame Zoe.”
“Are you two joining us?Mimi sent me to come find you before the food gets cold.”Camille stood in the doorway, her beige sweater making her nearly blend in with the wall.
Beau’s fingers instinctively closed around the earring, hiding it from sight.“Yeah—sorry.”
He placed his hand on the small of my back, leading me forward, but not before I noticed that the footprints that had been there just seconds before had completely vanished.
CHAPTER 8
“Why do you enjoy torturing me?”I asked as Beau secured my seat belt where I sat behind the wheel.We were on our way to see Honey Meggison and Joan Wenzel to find out if the doll I’d found in their previous home had once belonged to their missing niece, Lynda.If the doll was worth anything, it would belong to Honey and Joan.Whether or not it was valuable, if it had been Lynda’s, it should remain with them anyway in the hope that they might one day return it to her.Regardless, I was eager to get it out of my possession.The not knowing where it would show up next had begun to unnerve me.
Unfortunately, the doll had disappeared from the demilune chest again while we were at dinner, before I’d had a chance to show it to Mimi.Despite a search, the doll had failed to materialize.It seemed as if it could reason on its own and knew better than we did where it belonged.The very thought made me shudder.I knew the doll would show up again sooner or later, so Beau and I continued with our plans to visit the two sisters to confirm ownership, so I’d at least know whose mailbox to shove it into when it decided to make another appearance.
The other disappointment of the evening was Adele’s failure tocommunicate with Beau despite all his machinations to make it happen.He remained in the dark as to why she remained earthbound.
“I wouldn’t call making sure you are proficient in a life skill torture.”Beau reached toward me and snapped the bright red rubber band on my wrist.“Remember what this means.”
“I know, I know.Fear can’t win,” I said, repeating the words he’d said to me when he’d given me the rubber band from his own wrist.He’d used it to remember what his dad had taught him—that whether we felt afraid didn’t matter.What mattered was that we didn’t allow our fear to get between us and our objectives.My only argument was that my becoming a proficient driver was more Beau’s objective than mine.
“You’re getting your own car—remember?”he said, reminding me that I really should make it my goal.But bad memories of my first motor vehicle accident, when I was a newly licensed driver back in Charleston, still made me freeze at the wrong moments, like when approaching a four-way intersection or merging onto the interstate.Despite all the encouragement and lessons Beau had given me, I still couldn’t erase the trepidation I felt when getting behind the wheel of any vehicle that had an engine or more than two tires.
“Not that I want it.It’s sort of being dumped on me.”
“You poor thing.A classic Ford Mustang convertible in pristine condition.I don’t know how you’re holding up with that kind of burden.”
Ignoring him, I adjusted the rearview mirror, letting out an involuntary shout as the mirror reflected the rear seat.Following my gaze, Beau turned to see the doll sitting up like an actual child, its blue gaze focused straight ahead.
My eyes met Beau’s with the unasked question.
“I didn’t put her there.”He reached back and grabbed the doll.She expelled a subdued “Mama” when he tilted her forward, which was more terrifying than cute.
I held up my hands.“I promise I didn’t have anything to do withit, either.Trust me.”I pointed to my backpack, which I’d tossed on the passenger-side floor.“Put it in there.At least we have it to show Honey and Joan.”
Beau nodded as he shoved the doll into the backpack and zipped it closed, unceremoniously pressing down on the head to get it to fit.Valuable or not, neither one of us wanted to look down and see that face peering up at us.
I turned the key, my nerves jumping at the sound of the engine rumbling to life.My phone connected automatically to the Bluetooth, prompting the unsettling realization that I spent way too much time with Beau and his truck.Only relatives and the best of friends should have automatic connection rights to Bluetooth and Wi-Fi.I was definitely not a relative, and although I wasn’t sure how to classify our relationship, we certainly weren’t the best of friends.
I had just made it to Carrollton Avenue when my phone rang and Sarah’s name came up on the dash screen.I hit the Answer button on the steering wheel.“Hey, Sarah.I’m driving and this is hands-free, but I think Beau might have a heart attack if I don’t focus on the road.Actually, I might have the heart attack, but whatever.Is this quick, or do I need to call you back?”
“Does that mean Beau’s there?”she asked.
