Sara Mason Mysteries Collection

Chapter 6

The March rains hadn"t fallen all night. Sara was already up. The sun shone brightly. Tule fog had vanished, but frost laid down a blanket of sparkling white in the very early hours.

While orchard, field crop, and equipment maintenance went on all year, when the weather began to clear in March, more and more farm vehicles glutted the levees.

Sara stayed busy with remodeling plans. No former acquaintances sought her out. After thirty years of being away, a whole new generation of residents had evolved.

Gravel crunched. Someone honked. A curious dream about a man pointing to something dissipated from memory. She had been having that evocative dream off and on for the last several years. She thought the dream would change or vanish after having moved across the country, but it seemed to have followed her. Light footfalls ran up the concrete steps at the side of the house, and someone knocked at the porch off the sitting room.

“Sara? Sara May, you up?”

Sara crossed the sitting room and stepped into the entryway. Through the stained glass window of floral and birds, Daphine"s dark hair shone like sheen in the bright morning light.

“Hi, Daph,” she said as she opened the porch door. She and Daphine hugged again, like schoolgirls.

Daphine"s sharp classic features held the years well. Her sea green eyes still sparkled. She walked in talking and shrugged out of her jacket as it rustled with the sounds of rich, soft leather. Her sweater and brown pleated slacks accentuated her flat stomach and slender figure. Like Daphine, Sara, too, stayed slender from all the outdoor activities she enjoyed in Puerto Rico, and her hair remained sun-streaked.

“I can"t believe you bought this creepy old place,” Daphine said as her gaze darted about. She slipped back into her jacket. “How you gonna keep this behemoth warm?”

“Lucky for me, the Talbots installed an elaborate heating system. It was the newest thing they did before… All I have to do is bring it up to code.”

“Or wear winter clothes indoors.”

“You always were a clothes hound.

Daphine stepped back and looked her up and down. “What about you, Miss Designer Jeans.” She smiled and got a far-away look in her eyes. “You know what I remembered about us just now?”

“Tell me,” Sara said. “Since I"ve remembered things I haven"t thought of for decades.”

“Your mom used to collect cast-off clothes to make those country style braided rugs to sell.”

“Oh, my goodness!” Sara shook her head. “You remember that family with all those kids?”

“We used to sneak clothes from the rummage bag to give to them before your mom could shred them into strips to braid.” She shook her head. “What memories.” They stood a moment, studying one another. Finally, Daphine said, “I want to see this place again.”

“Bought one big old house.” Sara forced a crooked smile. “Had to hire a cleaning team just to remove the build-up of dust and rat droppings.”

They stepped into the sitting room. Daphine studied the antiquated fireplace. The room contained few furnishings, an old but comfortable sofa, a chair, and one end table.

“Compliments of the Aldens,” Sara said. “To hold me through the renovations.”

“Buck and Linette did well with their retirement home.”

“With all those antiques and that swimming pool?”

“Buck said he didn"t care that some of the neighbors—our own classmates, mind you—gossiped about the way he remodeled that historical place.”

“Now it"s my turn,” Sara said. “And I don"t care what people say about what I do to this house either.”

Daphine looked up like she expected grand lighting in a house of that design. Capped off wires hung out of the scrollwork in the center of the ceiling where a fixture once hung.

“Missing,” Sara said. “Used to be a chandelier in the dining room, this room, and the parlor.” She pointed toward the front room of the house.

“Oh, it"s the parlor now?” Daphine asked, feigning a hoity-toity attitude and flipping her hand in the air. “I have a living room at my house.”

Sara laughed. The empty house gave their voices a hollow quality. “This old castle will look like a showplace when I"m done.”

“If you don"t end up jumping out of your shorts.”

Sara regarded her with a keen eye. “If there"s a ghost hanging around, it"s about to get evicted.” She remembered learning about the voodoo and magic phenomena that permeated the diverse cultures of the Caribbean. Such practices were real, and she had even attended one such event. Sara wasn"t afraid of ghosts, but she needed to proceed with caution.

“Remember, they think that"s old man Talbot"s spirit floating around,” Daphine said. “He was never found.”

Sara had heard the story more than once. “I"m not about to abandon my dream because of rumors.”

“Talbot was much loved,” Daphine said. “Did you know that?”

“Heard a few things.”

“Anywhere he found a mug and a chair, he sat and talked about Delta politics, coffee grinds, or gold panning. Always with humor.” Daphine looked around. “Let me see the house. I looked at it when it was on the market years ago.”

“I take it you believe in ghosts.”

“Well, I didn"t, but a few years ago, I was driving by on a clear night….”

“And?”

Daphine"s eyes opened wide. “I saw a light floating around inside here.”

“The house was boarded up, wasn"t it?”

“Yeah, but that"s what made it scary. Dim light filtered through cracks of some of the window boards. No one was supposed to be inside.”