Part 1 (1/2)
Mama Pursues Murderous Shadows.
Nora Deloach.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.
Thanks to the many readers who contacted me to share their delight in becoming acquainted with Mama. I am pleased so many people enjoy visiting Mama (Candi), Simone, James, Cliff, and their family and friends in Otis, South Carolina. My sincere desire is that Mama will continue to provide her fans with years of delightful and intriguing mysteries.
PROLOGUE.
Ruby Spikes bolted straight up and opened her eyes. Sweat rolled off her body like it was near a furnacea”her ivory nightgown stuck to her skin like glue. Her heart pounded, her lungs felt about to burst.
She was in bed at the Avondale Inn. She tried to gain control but the memory of the excruciating nightmare gripped her remorselessly. The dream had been so real: Everything was bright! Things were going to work out. Toward what she somehow knew was the east, a dark cloud hovered. Then, suddenly the light vanished. Rain, lightning, and thunder cracked all around her. A small house, no bigger than the box that her refrigerator had been delivered in, stood in the darkness in front of her. Its door opened and she rushed inside.
She felt safe.
Then she saw the water on the floor. The little house was flooding. Desperate, she tried to open the door. It was locked.
Glad that she had awakened, she stared around the room. It was decorated in blue and white with a bordered wallpaper of a textured red. The tangled bedspread was patterned in red, white, and blue checks.
To the right was a closet. Across from the closet was a dressing area with a mirrored vanity and sink. Next to it, a door led to a toilet, a shower, towels. Instead of hanging up her clothes, she'd thrown her outfit on the upholstered blue chair next to the door.
On one nightstand was a telephone, a clock radio, and the remote control for the television; on the other, the neatly stacked and counted two thousand dollars she'd withdrawn from the bank.
She glanced at the clock. Midnight. Tears welled up in her eyes; aloneness carved another notch in her soul. Her life was a void, an emptiness that made her ask herself, What is so wrong with me that n.o.body can love me?
She looked at the money again. She was so tired. This would be the last time, she thought. It would take what little strength she had left, but if she could pull it off, she'd be free.
Ruby slipped out of bed and walked to the sink. She'd already taken all the pills she could safely take. For a moment she looked at herself in the mirror and wondered if she could really get away from the people of Otis and Avondale who had used and abused her.
The knock was so faint she thought at first that she'd imagined it. Silently, she eased toward the door.
”Ruby, let me in,” a voice whispered.
The hopelessness she'd felt in her dream swept over her.
”Let me in,” the voice pleaded again.
A warning inside of her head screamed not to open the door. She was so tired, so weaka”she just couldn't fight any more. Ignoring the warning, she heaved a weary sigh and slipped the dead bolt from the door.
OTIS COUNTY GUARDIAN.
July 24, 199-.
OTIS SHOOTING DEATH.
The Otis Sheriff Department responded yesterday to a death at the Avondale Inn in Avondale, South Carolina. Coroner Robert Gordon said Ruby Jane Spikes, 26, of Otis, died of what appeared to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the chest. She was found by the maid at the Avondale Inn at around 9:00 Sat.u.r.day morning. Spikes had checked into the room at 8:00 the previous night, according to Jeff Golick, the motel manager.
Officials do not suspect foul play. Spikes's body has been sent to the Charleston Medical Center for a routine autopsy.
Ruby Spikes was the wife of Herman Spikes of Otis.
CHAPTER.
ONE.
I was on a mission.
It was dark, rainy; a dreary dawn. I felt like it was only three A.M. and I owed my body another four hours' sleep. But the clock on the dashboard read six-thirty. I made a left, heading south onto Highway 20 off Wesley Chapel. I was driving to Otis, South Carolina, to visit my parents.
My mama, whose name is Grace but who is called Candi because of her golden-brown complexion, had firmly declined the suggestion of my brothers and me to throw her and my father a wedding anniversary party. It was their thirty-fifth, their jade anniversary, and my mission on this last Sat.u.r.day in July was to change her mind!
”James and I don't need a party to celebrate our togetherness,” Mama had informed me firmly when I told her of our plans in a recent telephone conversation. ”We do that every day.”
”Mama,” I'd replied, trying not to sound exasperated by her reluctance, ”you and Daddy celebrate every day, but your children want to celebrate the thirty-fifth year of your marriage with both of you!”
Mama's voice brightened. ”Then come home and I'll cook.”
”We don't want you to cook!”
I'd said the wrong thing.a There was a dead silence.
”Mama,” I explained hastily, ”I'm not saying that we don't want you to cook for us. You and I know that most people who've tasted your cooking would crawl on their hands and knees to get just a morsel ofa””
”Simone, you're exaggerating,” Mama interrupted.
”Mama, we want to do something special for you and Daddy on your anniversary,” I persisted. My mother isn't the only stubborn one in the family. ”You're always doing things for us.”
”Like what?”
”Like cooking,” I said, hoping to convey that we knew that she was doing something very special whenever she cooked for her family.
”I don't like parties,” Mama snapped.
I decided to ignore her tone. ”I'll get Yasmine to help. My girlfriend is not only one of the best beauticians in Atlanta, but she also throws fabulous parties after hair and fas.h.i.+on shows. And, honest, Mama, Yasmine's got a real flare fora””
”Simone, I said no,” Mama cut in.
”Will and Rodney want to come home to throw this party for you, Mama,” I continued, knowing that using her sons as bait was one way to at least get her attention. That's not to say that Mama thinks more of her two boys than she does of me; I've never once felt that way. It's just that my brothers don't go back to Otis as much as Mama would like, and a visit from all three of her children at the same time is something that really turns her on.
”No.” Mama's tone told me that she knew exactly what I was trying to doa”I guess I'd used that technique too many times before.