down,” Laura said, assuming the lady-of-the-manor role.
Jilly watched Guy while he passed his eyes over a vast chandelier dripping with clear prisms and too big for the room. She caught hold of his hand and pulled him over white marble tiles shot with gold veins, to soft white carpets. Later she’d tell him she also disliked the ostentatious decor at Edwards Place.
“Are you hungry, Guy—Jilly?” Laura asked. She appeared tired and marks of strain showed around her mouth. “I think I finally am. I couldn’t have eaten anything earlier. What a shock.”
“You must have felt helpless,” Jilly said.
“I did.” Laura spread her arms. “Blood everywhere and poor little Edith in the middle of it. I feel light-headed again.”
“You sit down at once,” Jilly said. “I’ll go see if I can make some sandwiches.”
Laura put her hands on her hips. “You’ll do no such thing, stepsister-in-law.” She giggled. “Is that what we are? I’ve been trying to figure it out.”
“I guess,” Jilly said. She had to look at Guy, whose expressionless face gave away how much he disliked this house and the people in it.
“Well—” Laura tapped the toe of a pink leather sneaker “—I do believe I like that idea. Now, both of you sit down here.” She stood behind a white damask couch, one of several similar pieces in the room, and patted the cushions.
Jilly felt the slightest resistance from Guy as she followed Laura’s instructions. They sat down and Laura went to a blond marquetry desk to pick up a phone and press a button on the intercom. “Pizza, please,” she said, smiling. “I know, Mrs. O, this is late, but it’s one of those evenings when you get a craving. It’s all been such a strain. There are three of us. Maybe there’s a little somethin’ sweet for after the pizza? Bye-ee.”
When Laura put the phone down, Jilly smiled at her. For the first time she felt some warmth toward the other woman.
Guy caught sight of gold ribbon tucked into the folds of looped-and-fluffed floor-to-ceiling draperies—white naturally. At least with everything the same color he guessed they didn’t have to worry about stuff clashing. What he’d expected was a display of antiques; after all, that was Preston’s specialty.
Guy put his booted feet on the edge of a glass-topped table covered with crystal and porcelain. He smiled a little at his dusty toes. Sometimes the devil got into him.
Jilly gave his hand a hard squeeze and sent him a ferocious stare.
He sighed and put his feet on the floor again.
“Edith really did almost die,” Laura said. “It was terrible. I’d already gone to sleep and it was the thuds and then all the running footsteps that woke me. Caruthers saved her. He charged in there and applied pressure or whatever to the bleeding and he shouted for me. I wouldn’t have known how to help if he hadn’t been there.”
“Where did she cut herself?” Guy asked. “She must have got a vein.”
“I had to call Daddy. He went mad, I can tell you. Then, before you could think straight, he’d flown down here with an entire medical team and they went to work on her. She’s lost a lot of blood, but I suppose the transfusion will help with that.”
Jilly hadn’t missed the way Laura had avoided Guy’s question. “So you were there,” she said.
“I sure was. And I stayed there holdin’ her hand while Caruthers worked over her. I had no idea just how capable that man is.”
“Did she slice the back of her knee?” Guy suggested. “Or a vein in her groin?”
Laura checked her watch. “No,” she said. “They think the razor bounced and caught her across the inside of her left arm. I’ve never seen anything like it. All that shiny blood on those white covers of Edith’s. I kept on talkin’ to her, tellin’ her to stay with me. I kissed her cheek and begged her not to leave me.” Tears welled in her remarkable eyes. “Edith’s the closest to a mother I’ve ever had.”
A young, blond man built like a middleweight boxer came into the room with a tray. Guy could smell cooked onion and garlic from where he was.
“Mrs. O said to tell you she heated these leftovers in the microwave—just to tide you over. She’s making fresh.” He slid plates and napkins on the table, put the tray down in front of Guy and Jilly and made for the door again.
“Thank you, Michael,” Laura said as he disappeared. She had a slightly different kind of smile on her face and Guy decided she liked Michael.
“Leftovers,” Laura said, drawing her lips back from her lovely teeth. “Not very hospitable, but I suppose Mrs. O’s right. They’ll tide us over.”
The front doorbell rang, followed by the sound of voices in the vestibule, mostly excited voices.
Michael returned with a man and a woman in tow.
“That’s Ken and Jolene Pratt,” Jilly murmured. “They’re the ones who live in a trailer on a piece of St. Cécil land. They grow produce to sell. Some folks say Cyrus shouldn’t have them there, but you know how he is. If anyone says a negative word he tells them the Pratts tithe. Which means they do.”
Guy bit into a piece of pizza and said, “Mmm.” He thought about cooked chicken innards and put the pizza down while he watched with interest as Michael tried to apologize for letting the couple in. At the same time the two of them talked very fast about how they’d only come to pay respects to Mrs. Edith and they’d leave as soon as they’d seen her.
Guy realized he hadn’t considered that they might have been the ones who put dinner in his car. They were allegedly the most sought-after voodoo merchants in town.
“Thank you, Michael,” Laura said. “Are you the people who sell flowers to Mrs. Preston?”
“That would be us,” the woman said. She slid her eyes toward Guy and Jilly and said, “I’ve seen both of you but you wouldn’t know us. Ken and Jolene Pratt. Father Cyrus is so kind to us, letting us put the trailer on church land.”
Ken did a lot of nodding. The pair wore jeans and T-shirts and had similar, long, angular faces. They wore their dark brown hair pulled back into rubber bands at the nape and both looked at the world with large, darting, light-colored eyes.
Voodoo or not, Wazoo didn’t have to fear for her reputation as the wackiest woman in town. These people were ordinary, except for their childlike, luminous eyes. Each of them held large bouquets of mixed flowers and Jolene had a plastic bag filled with lumpy shapes.
“I don’t think you’ll be able to see Mrs. Preston this evening,” Laura said. She appeared uncomfortable and Jilly liked her for not just brushing these people off. “She’s lost a lot of blood and we’re told she’ll take a few days to get her strength back.”
They looked at each other. “I told you,” Ken said. “It’s a blessing we came.”
Jilly’s skin tightened and she felt cold. “What are you talking about?”
Two pairs of disconcerting eyes turned on her. “Nothing, really,” Jolene said. “Mrs. Edith’s been a friend to us and we want to be near her when she’s in need, that’s all.”
Guy startled Jilly by holding the back of her neck and rubbing with his fingertips.
“She loves your flowers,” Laura said, not looking herself at all. “And she says how kind you are.” She closed her mouth and her expression suggested she couldn’t believe what she’d just said.
Jolene and Ken smiled. “You don’t know how much it means to us to hear you say that,” Ken said. “We’ve been more peaceful living here than anywhere else. Could you ask Mrs. Edith if we can go to her?”
“Yes,” Jolene said. Her voice was small and thin. “We really mustn’t