Betrayal - Fern Michaels [128]
Toots nodded in agreement. “Stop trying to change the subject. I want to talk about what happened last night.”
Sophie swallowed her pineapple, took a drink of coffee, then lit up. “I was as shocked as the rest of you. I think I’ve opened up a portal for our dead husbands. I did some heavy-duty research on the Internet last night, after I went upstairs. I know it sounds nuts, but I don’t have any other explanation. You got any bright ideas?”
“Isn’t that supposed to be evil, like a place for demons to come and go? Take over someone’s personality, their soul?” Toots asked.
Sophie shook her head, her dark brown hair wrapping around her face. She tucked the loose strands behind her ears. “You’re talking about demonic possession. I don’t believe we have anything like that going on here. It’s like I said, I think our exes are coming back to . . . I’m not sure what they’re coming back for. Maybe they just want to frighten us. I don’t have any other explanation.”
Toots was quiet for a moment. “I suppose if Leland should decide to . . . make his presence known, I’ll have to explain why I didn’t bury him with his expensive bottle of scotch. The old coot was cheap in life. I doubt that’s changed in death. Maybe he’s stuck in between, you know, waiting for whatever it is they wait for to help them cross over to the other side. Or in his case, he might be waiting for a U-Haul to bring his fortune to his grave site.”
Toots took a deep drag from her cigarette. “In his case it might be that he’ll return for all that money he left behind.”
Sophie laughed, but her heart wasn’t in it. “I suppose if Walter and Leland crossed paths, they could . . . Hell, I don’t know. Maybe Walter’s looking for Leland’s bottle of scotch that you were supposed to bury with him. Could be his liver’s been revived.”
Coffee spewed from Toots’s mouth as she uttered a hearty guffaw. “Only you would think of something like that at a time like this.” She wiped her mouth with a tissue from her jeans pocket.
All traces of humor gone, Sophie inquired, “What is that supposed to mean? ‘At a time like this’?”
“You know what I mean. This séance ordeal. Last night. Do you suppose there is a connection of some kind, something we’re missing?” Toots asked.
“I thought of that, and I’m coming up as empty-handed as you are. I think we need to try another séance tonight. We’ll try to duplicate last night’s séance as closely as possible. Same time, same candles. We’ll wear the same clothes, the whole deal.”
“Something tells me Ida isn’t going to be game for this a second time,” Toots said.
“Then we’ll just have to make sure she is game,” Sophie shot back.
“Explain exactly how we’re going to do this. I doubt that Ida will ever want to sit in on one of our séances again. Now that she’s seen Thomas, and before you say anything, no, I cannot believe these words are coming out of my mouth, but it is what it is, so how do you propose we convince her to come to another . . . performance?” It amazed Toots how she accepted these . . . peculiar entities as part of their normal, everyday life.
“We could threaten her. With something extremely germy,” Sophie said, a huge grin on her face.
“That’s a terrible idea, especially after all she’s been through!” Toots lit another cigarette. “Just what kind of germs are we talking about here?”
“Something the seagulls would ignore.” Sophie laughed. “Maybe an unusually smelly dead fish. A dirty diaper. I see people tossing disposable diapers into the water all the time.”
“That’s beyond disgusting. I can’t believe we would even consider doing this to poor Ida given what she’s been through this past year. I don’t know if she’d be able to withstand something so vile,” Toots said.
The sliding glass door opened. “Poor Ida, what? I heard what you said! What are you two up to?”
Sophie and Toots had the grace to appear chagrined.
“We