Mischief in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #2)(70)
Beau grinned and closed the door behind him.
Sabine gave Helena a stern look. “You will be quiet on the ride over there. I’m not going to give him any reason to think the insanity is hereditary.” Helena nodded and pulled another moon pie from the box. Sabine snatched the pie and the box from her hand. “And no food. It’s not invisible like you, remember?”
Helena climbed off the bed and cast a wistful glance at the moon pie box. “You’re such a grouch, Sabine. What is it about you and Maryse?”
Sabine grabbed her purse and tucked her cell phone in a side pocket. “Gee, I don’t know. There’s that whole someone’s-trying-to-kill-me thing, or the I-can’t-live-a-normal-life-in-my-own-house and my-friends-are-getting-caught-in-the-fallout thing, and hey, we could always throw in getting-haunted-by-the-constantly-bitching-and-eating-ghost-of-the-nastiest-person-I-knew-in-real-life part of the equation.”
“Well, if you put it that way,” Helena grumbled and headed out the door and down the steps to the lobby.
Sabine followed, praying that this whole thing didn’t blow up in her face. Praying that she’d even be around tomorrow to pray.
The drive to the Fortescues was painfully long and silent. Sabine was afraid to say anything lest she give Helena a reason to start sounding off and blow their cover. Beau was suspiciously silent and appeared to be in deep thought. Over what, she had no idea. At this point, it could be anything—her situation with the Fortescues, her earlier cancer announcement, the new information Raissa had provided, their lovemaking the night before, this fall’s football lineup.
She sighed and rested her head back on the seat.
Beau looked over at her. “Anything wrong?”
“Aside from the obvious, no. I was just thinking that a full night’s sleep last night might have been a good idea given what we’re doing now. My mind’s all fuzzy.”
“Whoohoo!” Helena sounded from the back of the car. “Why weren’t you sleeping? Details, woman, I want details. You can start with the bottom half and work your way up.”
Sabine closed her eyes again and clenched her jaw. Do not respond. Do not even look at her.
“I know what you mean,” Beau said. “This whole thing was bizarre to begin with and it just keeps throwing angles at us that I didn’t see coming and can’t seem to fit to anything else. I wish it would all clear up. I have this overwhelming feeling that we’re missing something, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out what.”
Sabine straightened in her seat as they pulled through the massive iron gates of the Fortescue estate. “Well, you’ve got a couple of minutes to figure it all out. Otherwise we’re back to Plan B.”
“There’s a Plan B?”
Sabine looked at the opposing structure and felt a cold shiver rush across her. “Yeah, stay alive.”
[page]
Two hours later, Sabine was mentally and emotionally drained as she’d never been before. Catherine and her ideas about “proper” behavior for a Fortescue, Frances’s interruptions with scripture that didn’t apply to anything they were speaking of, William’s uninterested silence, and Alford’s mild annoyance had gotten on her last nerve. In fact, it was more likely the last nerve was gone, too, and now they were eating away at bone.
Dinner had been an elaborate affair, served by the enthusiastic Adelaide, and while Sabine had to admit the food was fantastic, the atmosphere was so…oppressed, she guessed was the best word…that it made it difficult to enjoy the meal. Finally, the last dish was cleared away and they left the stiff, formal dining hall for the relative comfort of the living room. Alford excused himself, claiming he had some documents to review for a client meeting the following morning. Sabine didn’t think he was telling the truth for a minute, but since contemplating the fuzz in her navel would be more interesting than hearing Catherine drone on any longer, she could hardly blame him for escaping. After all, he had to deal with the family far more than she did and had probably heard Catherine’s opinions every week for the last twenty or thirty years.
A couple of times Helena had popped her head into the room, but only long enough to shake her head at Sabine and pop back out again. Sabine was growing dreadfully afraid that she was enduring this insult to her entire life for nothing.
They had just settled in the living room with coffee and Catherine was droning on about the high-end, dresses-only clothing store that Sabine should open when Adelaide hurried into the room, interrupting Catherine’s monologue on “proper fashion for heiresses.”
“Mrs. Fortescue, a storm is moving in something fierce and there’s a leak around one of the library windows. It came up so sudden-like, I’m afraid we didn’t even know until quite a bit of the floor was soaked.”
Catherine frowned and left the room. She returned a minute later, a grim look on her face. “Adelaide is right. I can’t see an inch beyond the hallway window. The living room is so well insulated we couldn’t hear a thing.” She looked at the housekeeper, her agitation obvious and unusual for the normally ultra-composed woman. “Have you checked the news? Where is the storm coming from?”
Adelaide shook her head. “Can’t get any signal on the television. As soon as we realized it was raining, we tried. I got an old radio up in my room. You want me to get it?”