Betrayal - Fern Michaels [126]
As fast as they had come, the other eleven orbs disappeared.
Sophie removed the bottle of holy water from her pocket. She proceeded to dump its contents in Ida’s face. Within a split second, Ida jolted back to reality.
Sputtering, wiping the remains of the holy water off her face with the back of her hand, Ida sat up, leaning against the chair’s legs. “I believe Thomas has returned from the grave to haunt me.”
Toots spoke, fright making her words shaky. “You may be onto something.”
For once, Toots, Mavis, and even Sophie nodded in agreement.
Chapter 1
The beach house, Malibu
Sophie Manchester sat on the deck, staring out at the Pacific and watching the reflections off the waves as the sun rose behind her. She rose, turning to the east, and watched a giant ball of fire floating above the mountains. Vibrant yellow, orange, and a dozen hues of pink, it appeared like a rosy blush-colored wine splashed across the sky. She crushed her third cigarette out in the giant shell she and Toots used for their ashtray, then began pacing back and forth across the ocean-facing deck. The view was out of this world, but it could have been the Taj Mahal for all the attention she paid it. Haunted by last night’s events, she wondered if she’d opened a door that was meant to remain closed. She’d heard Walter’s voice; she would know it anywhere. The question was, should she continue to experiment with the unknown? There was no way in hell she would admit it, but she was now truly frightened of the ability she had to make contact with the other side. It was one thing to get through to Hollywood’s dead stars. It was a totally different ball of wax when it came to ex-husbands and neighbors who might still be alive. Madame Butterfly had told her many years ago that she had a special gift, but Sophie had always shrugged it off as a bunch of mumbo jumbo. She wasn’t so sure anymore.
Mavis, all 146 pounds of her, carried out a tray filled with an ungodly amount of healthy food, a carafe of fresh-squeezed orange juice, and four steaming mugs of coffee.
Placing the food-laden tray on the patio table, Mavis said, “I knew I would find you out here smoking those nasty old cigarettes. Are Toots and Ida up yet?”
“I heard Toots stirring around when I woke up. Nothing from Ida,” Sophie said flatly. “She’s probably still in shock after last night.”
Ever cheerful, Mavis observed, “Well, that was quite an experience. I don’t know that any one of us will ever get over it.” Mavis proceeded to empty the tray, placing the plates and cups on the table. “I’ve made steel-cut oats with fresh blueberries, and sliced pineapple with whole-grain toast, minus the butter, of course. I do believe you will like this fresh sugar-free strawberry jam I made last week. I saw this recipe on the Food Network, one of Paula Deen’s shows, but I made a few healthy substitutes. She uses so much butter, it’s a wonder that sweet little woman hasn’t suffered a major coronary from all that unhealthy cooking she does. Though I do enjoy her show.”
Sophie rolled her eyes, grabbed a mug of coffee, and carried it back to her lounge chair, where she sat down and lit another cigarette. “Why do you watch her if her show cooks nothing but fattening, unhealthy food?”
Mavis sat down at the table and stirred blueberries in her oatmeal, then took a healthy sip of orange juice before answering Sophie. “She’s such a dear woman. She reminds me of Toots. You know, sweet and silly, a little bit on the ornery side but with an air of sophistication. I would love to go to her restaurant in Savannah, Georgia, sometime before I die. Plus, I would have a chance to see those old graveyards from as far back as the eighteenth century. I think I will add that to my life list. What about you, Sophie?”
Sophie blew out a funnel of smoke and took a sip of coffee. “Actually, there are a few