Mischief in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #2)(81)

They ran back into Frances’s bedroom and Beau looked over at the stricken Adelaide. “Adelaide, I need you to watch Catherine for a bit. I’ll send the police as soon as I can notify them, but in the meantime, I need you to stay here and keep watch. Can you do that?”

Adelaide nodded fearfully. “I think so. Do I have to use the gun?”

Beau shook his head. “Not unless you know how.”

Adelaide blew out a breath. “I know how. And I’m a sight better than that ghost.”

Helena huffed. “Look who’s talking shit now. You were all frozen like a pack of steaks until I got here.”

“Helena, we all know you saved the day,” Sabine said, “now I need you to stay here with Adelaide and make sure nothing else happens. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sabine nodded to Beau and they hurried out of the room.

“But I’m getting a piece of that chocolate cake,” Helena yelled after them.



Mildred sat in her hospital bed, staring at the static on the television and wondering if the worst of the storm was blowing over, or if this lessening was only a lull. She was worried about Sabine, about this dinner with her “family.” Mildred was old-fashioned in a lot of ways, but family wasn’t one of them. Blood didn’t make someone love you. It didn’t make someone treat you right. Not a single one of the people she considered family was related by blood, but when it came to family, Mildred considered herself the most blessed woman in Mudbug.

She had two beautiful daughters, who were fast becoming the women she always knew they’d be. They had integrity. They had respect for themselves. They cared about others and never even blinked at self-sacrifice for each other or for Mildred. They were her greatest joy, and when she was feeling a little vain, her greatest accomplishment.

She smiled as she thought of them, how they’d shown their character even in such trying times, and she knew without a doubt that no matter what happened, her two girls would survive and thrive. And that peace of mind was worth more to her than any amount of money in the bank.

“Lord have mercy!” Maryse burst into the room, both hands full and dripping water from every inch of her and the bags she carried. “It’s a doozy out there.”

Mildred glanced out the window and nodded. “I thought it was slacking off some.”

Maryse dumped the bags on the floor and shook off her raincoat. “It is now, but when I left the hotel it was a torrential downpour. I deliberated between bringing your bags or just starting to build an ark right there in the middle of Main Street.” She grinned at Mildred and tossed her raincoat onto the tile floor of the bathroom and grabbed a towel off a shelf next to the door.

Mildred laughed. “That would be a sight, wouldn’t it? An ark in downtown Mudbug. And can you even imagine getting two of everything on board?”

“Yeah…two idiots, two fools, two rednecks…the hardest part would be narrowing it down to which two. And I don’t care if they’re God’s creatures, I’m still not taking snakes.”

“That’s my girl,” Mildred said. “I just wish Sabine were here instead of with those people.”

Maryse lifted a duffle bag from the floor and wiped it with the towel, then handed the bag to Mildred. “Sorry about the wet part—couldn’t be avoided. And I’m with you on the Sabine thing. I know the Fortescues are her family, but everything’s been wrong since she found them. Well, and I guess even before.”

Mildred nodded and waved one hand at the window. “Like the calm before the storm.”

Maryse’s eyes widened. “Shit. I didn’t even think of it that way. And I hope your poetic expression isn’t lining up with our atmospheric conditions.”

“Have you heard from her?”

Maryse bit her lip. “No. Cell phone reception’s been spotty though, with the weather. Even if she tried, I don’t know if she could get through.”

“I don’t feel right. I don’t want to trouble you, Maryse, but I’m worried. I feel like something big is about to happen. And not something good, but I can’t put my finger on what.”

“Or why, or who, or how.” Maryse sat on the edge of her bed, a worried expression on her face. “I feel it, too. Been feeling it for a while, but the truth is, tonight it all seems intensified somehow. I thought maybe it was just the storm. You know, like some creepy horror movie.”

“The ‘dark and stormy night’ introduction. Makes for a great gothic tale, but a nerve-racking reality.”

She sighed. “You know, it was always so easy for me to dismiss Sabine’s beliefs about things we couldn’t see. Not that I ever dismissed her or thought any different of her for believing. I just couldn’t make that leap myself.”

Mildred nodded. “I know. I have the same hesitation, but the older I get, the less inclined I am to say ‘never.’ It tends to come back and bite you.” She paused for a moment, thinking about her next words, the best way to say them. “I know something has been going on with you and Sabine lately. Something that is bothering you both and that you don’t want to tell me about. Maybe when all this has settled down, you’ll think about letting me know.”

Maryse looked stricken, and Mildred knew she’d hit a nerve. “We’re not trying to leave you out or make you feel unimportant, Mildred. I promise you.” She laid her hand on Mildred’s. “But you’re right. There have been some things happening to us that, well, we didn’t really think you’d take the right way…or take at all.”