Fool's Moon, page 12
Recalling those raw emotions and outright denial, she definitely got where Luciana was coming from.
Returning her attention to the current situation, Ruby backtracked to her original search results. More out of curiosity than from any true feeling that she’d stumble over something to contradict the official findings, she reentered the query as Hilda Givens Palm Beach.
This time, the hits mostly were to links from the Palm Beach Herald’s society pages.
She spent the next half hour reading through the articles and looking at pictures of Hilda that spanned a period from her college years until just a couple of weeks before her death. She particularly enjoyed the swim team pictures of Hilda and her teammates dressed in old-fashioned one-piece bathing suits, their hair covered by rubber swim caps. A few photos were of the Givens estate, both now and in the past, and Ruby was impressed despite herself.
“Check this out, Zuki,” she said aloud as she took in the gracious mid-century architecture and glimpses of highly manicured grounds. “Poor Brandon and Ophelia. Coming to live here sure was a step down for them. Actually, about ten or twelve steps!”
She kept clicking, finally pausing at a series of photos from a soiree that had occurred a couple of weeks before the old woman’s death. An Evening in Black and Blanc, the main headline read—black and white apparently being the event’s theme.
As befitted that motif, the pictures she found of Hilda were of the old woman dressed in a long-sleeved V-neck ball gown in white and black taffeta. Instead of diamonds, she wore multiple strands of pearls around her throat, while a cluster of pearls the size of Ophelia’s paw dangled from each ear. The hair was white now, and gently waved about her face, the dimples almost hidden among the wrinkles. Even so, her features remained as handsome as in her youth … most likely because her smile exuded warmth that came through even in a newspaper photo.
The first photo showed Hilda elegantly posed alone beside a staircase. The next were group shots. According to the accompanying captions, one was of Hilda with a prominent local surgeon, the surgeon’s husband, and a grizzled man who’d apparently been a popular singer in the late ’70s. All were wearing the requisite black and white. Another photo had Hilda posed between two much younger men, both in sleek black tuxes and with poufy white hair, their smiles wide. Hilda’s name was listed along with theirs: Mr. James Hudson and Mr. Bart Jennings-Hudson. Married couple, Ruby surmised, though she couldn’t decide if the hair thing was their usual style, or if they’d bleached their matching pompadours just for the event.
The last photo, however, was the one that held Ruby’s attention. Three people were in this shot as well. First was Hilda, standing to one side and looking surprisingly grim. Beside her was a smiling man in a black tux who, according to the picture’s caption, was her son, Terrence.
This was the first photo she’d seen of him, and Ruby squinted a little through her glasses, looking for the familial likeness. She could detect a bit of similarity in the strong, square features, but chances were the man more closely resembled his late father. He was handsome enough for his age, despite the thinning blond hair, though in Ruby’s opinion he would have been far better looking had his smile held half the warmth of his mother’s.
A third person stood to Terrence’s right, a woman probably twenty years his junior and wearing a sleeveless black gown split almost thigh-high. Terrence’s arm was draped awkwardly around her waist, and it was hard to tell from her closed-lipped smile if she appreciated this attention or not.
Joan Ratzen, according to the caption. She was pretty, Ruby conceded, if not particularly striking, with long dark hair that had been twisted into a deliberately messy updo. A size 2 or smaller, but with boobs that probably were not original equipment, given their size and gravity-defying properties. Was this maybe the woman Terrence had brought home, and who Luciana claimed Hilda had not approved of?
Succumbing to plain nosiness now, Ruby skimmed back through some of the older event photos where Hilda had been a guest. Sure enough, Joan showed up a few more times … once at a benefit for hurricane victims, and again at a children’s cancer fundraiser. At the latter, she was photographed between Terrence and another man about the latter’s same age. The second man look thrilled to be in the photo, likely because Joan was wearing yet another gown slit down to there and up to here.
Feeling nosier still, Ruby did one more web search, punching in Joan’s name. As with Hilda, numerous hits came up, but of a different sort. She saw in surprise that the woman worked for a prominent West Palm Beach investment firm. Her LinkedIn profile presented a far more staid photo than her social ones: business suit, glasses, and hair straightened into smooth submission. Her background was impressive, too: MBA, Ivy League school, and membership in several prestigious professional organizations.
“Wow,” she muttered, feeling more than a bit outclassed. Why Hilda would have objected to this version of Joan dating her son, she couldn’t guess.
So much for that, she decided, stifling a yawn.
She closed down the browser, but not before bookmarking the search … just in case. That accomplished, she carried the laptop over to her small desk beneath the window where she usually did her classwork. Her view was of the not-so-scenic street, Rosa having the room with a window overlooking the picturesque courtyard. Still, when the room was dark, she rather enjoyed peering out past the curtains at the activity below. In this part of town, things never entirely shut down for the night.
She plugged in the laptop so it would recharge, wishing she could as easily revive her positive outlook. But now that she’d done her internet sleuthing, she had to admit that she did feel a little better about Luciana’s situation. Best as she could tell, the housekeeper’s concerns were based more on passion than on any sort of evidence. Perhaps after a couple more weeks, when her emotions about her employer’s passing were less raw, the woman would come back in for another reading that would give her some relief.
And even better, she could tell Luciana that the missing Brandon had been found and had been reunited with his sister.
As if hearing that last, a small questioning mew came from the vicinity of the bedroom door. She glanced in that direction to see a small fuzzy black head push past the door jamb.
“Ophelia?” she asked with a smile. “Do you want to come in?”
The cat gave a little yowl of agreement and padded through the doorway, followed by her brother. Zuki opened one eye and gave the pair a welcoming woof before settling back down again.
“Make yourself at home,” Ruby told the pair as she rose and started for the bathroom. “I’m going to get ready for bed.
When she returned a few minutes later with teeth brushed and wearing a long black nightshirt emblazoned with an image of The Fool, both cats were curled in tight balls at the foot of her bed. Obviously, the “make yourself at home” invitation had been taken literally.
Grinning, she plucked off her glasses and set them on her bedside table. Then, flipping off her lamp that was in the shape of a pineapple, she slid beneath the covers, taking care not to disturb the snoozing felines. Tomorrow, she’d contact Shanice over at the animal shelter to let her know that Brandon had somehow managed to find his sister, and that he now had a new home at the Botanica, too.
Ophelia waited until the soft sound of Ruby’s even breathing indicated that the human was sleeping. Then she gave her brother a nudge.
“Ruby left her laptop on. You heard what she was telling Zuki while we were listening outside the door. She was looking up things about the old woman and Luciana. Remember, I told you she needed help. We should go see what Ruby found out.”
Brandon opened one green eye. “I don’t know how to do a computer,” he protested. “Besides, I’m sleepy after all that running tonight. Maybe tomorrow you can explain everything.”
He clamped both eyes firmly shut again and started snoring, just like Ruby.
“Fine,” Ophelia muttered.
Slipping shadow-like off the bed, she made her way to the desk where the computer sat. Just like Ruby, it was asleep … but when she gave it a little nudge with one paw, it woke up and began a soft hum. A close-up picture of Zuki, long pink tongue lolling, abruptly popped up, making her jump back a little.
Dumb canine.
She gave her paw a lick, pretending that she’d not been at all startled. She glanced over her furry shoulder to make sure that the sudden light from the screen hadn’t disturbed the snoring human; then she settled in front of the keyboard. Imitating what she’d seen Ruby do, she poked a paw at one of the little black squares with squiggly white lines on them.
The screen promptly changed, filled now with words and a few small pictures. Ophelia squinted, nose almost touching the screen. What any of this meant, she wasn’t certain. Hesitantly, she touched a paw to one of the lines of words, and new things appeared. This time there were more pictures, including one of the old woman!
Mom!
She blinked back a bit of moisture in her green eyes. Even though Ruby was very kind, she still missed the old woman who had raised her and Brandon from kittens. If only Luciana had found her in the pool sooner, maybe they would all still be together.
Ophelia gave the picture a fond pat with her paw, and the screen changed again. This time, there were several big pictures of the old woman, some of them by herself and some with other humans. She gave a reflexive hiss at one picture which had the son standing next to her.
Bad human! Someone should put you in a box!
And there was something funny about that picture, she decided. In all the other pictures, the old woman was smiling … but in this one, her mouth looked all flat, like she had bitten into a dried mouse. It had to be because the son was standing next to her and she knew what a bad man he was! Even the other human female in the picture did not look happy standing next to him.
Ophelia squinted at that third person. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen this person before. This human female looked about the same age as Ruby and also had dark fur, though hers was longer and didn’t have that strange blue streak in it. She looked nice—but with humans, you couldn’t always tell.
She poked a few more keys, but she found no pictures of Luciana anywhere. And no pictures of the old woman floating at the bottom of the pool, so that she could study it and figure out if Luciana was right.
With a little hiss of frustration, she stared at the screen awhile longer until it went black again. Then she jumped off the desk and climbed back onto the bed.
Feeling the covers shift, Brandon slitted open a green eye and whispered, “What did you find out?”
“Nothing much.”
“Were there pictures of Luciana?”
Ophelia sniffed. Now he was interested in what she had to tell him. She shook her head. “No. But I don’t think Ruby looked very hard. There weren’t pictures of anything important. Computers obviously aren’t much good.”
With that lofty declaration, Ophelia plopped down beside him, her chin propped on his shoulder. She couldn’t sleep, however. Every time she started to doze off, she would see the street dogs pinning Brandon atop a dumpster, or chasing the three of them down the street. And then there was the matter of Luciana.
Ophelia sighed. Even though Ruby and the computer turned out to be an empty mouse hole, she wasn’t going to give up. The cards she’d pulled for Luciana were bad, and it was up to her and Brandon and Zuki to watch out for the housekeeper. That’s what the old woman would have done.
Another message for the cat. You must beware the human rat.
Abruptly, Philomena’s words from earlier that day popped back into her mind. The fish had been right about finding Brandon at the three golden balls, which was the place called PAWN. And she’d been right about the fight, too. So she must be right about this human rat … whatever … whoever that was!
Ophelia frowned. She knew only one human who acted like a rat, and that was the son. She tried picturing him with a pointy nose and round ears and a long scaly tail, and she had to shove a paw over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. But in real life, he wasn’t funny. He was cruel to felines and had yelled at the old woman. And Luciana was afraid of him, even though she was mad at him, too.
But if a human couldn’t deal with him, how would a cat put him in his place?
But it wouldn’t be just one cat, she reminded herself as she finally drifted off to sleep. There would be two cats and a canine … and surely together they could outwit one measly human.
Twelve
“Your coworker needs a Tarot card reader for a bridal shower she’s throwing? Where, how long, and when?” Ruby asked next morning as she and JoJo sat outside in the courtyard at the concrete table.
At the center of the table’s red, blue, and yellow tiled starburst pattern sat a pasteboard box containing a baker’s dozen of doughnut varieties. Ruby’s “outside” Tarot deck—a cheap Rider-Waite that she played with in the courtyard, not caring if it got dirty—lay stacked at her elbow. The chipped gray onyx box that she kept it stored in sat next to her phone, which was protected by a bright yellow faux leather case.
It was just after 7:30 a.m. Since the Botanica didn’t open until ten, Ruby had been indulging in her usual morning routine. First came taking Zuki for a quick walk down the block. Food was next—previously for a single dog, but now for two cats as well, with a yogurt for herself. The remainder of the routine consisted of sitting outside with her smartphone or laptop reading the headlines on her newsfeed, or finishing up a bit of homework. That, or she did practice spreads with her Tarot cards while drinking coffee—not that she needed the caffeine wake-up with three roosters on the premises.
JoJo, who knew her schedule, had called a few minutes ago on her way to work to say she was stopping by. She’d arrived at the Botanica’s front door dressed for her job at the law firm in a coral-hued version of a skirted power suit. In one hand, she’d held a box from which wafted the irresistible smell of sugary fried delights.
Now, JoJo swiped a few cruller crumbs from her chin and broke off a bit of her pastry for Zuki. The pup was sitting patiently among the three gently clucking roosters hanging out beneath the table and awaiting their respective shares of human food. Zuki caught the tossed piece with a snap of her broad jaws, while the roosters scrambled for the stray crumbs that went flying.
“The where is Palm Beach,” JoJo replied. “Lucky you, you get to hang out with the rich folks. The how long is two to three hours, but you get all the snacks and wine you want while you’re working. As for the when … ”
She paused for another bite of cruller, then continued. “Courtney already had a Tarot card reader booked, but Madam Babushka apparently had a family emergency and had to cancel. And it seems the bride really, really, really wants a Tarot card reader at her bridal shower. So Courtney needs to find a substitute pronto becausetheparty’stonight,” she finished in a rush.
Ruby lowered the baseball-glove-sized apple fritter she’d been nibbling on—hey, the yogurt cancelled it out!—and stared at her friend. “Tonight? As in, tonight tonight? Jeez, now I know why you brought doughnuts. This is a bribe, right?”
“Kind of,” JoJo admitted as she popped the final bit of cruller into her mouth and folded her hands together in a praying gesture. “Please, please, please!” she went on, putting a little whine in her tone for good measure. “Courtney’s helped me out bigtime twice this month, so I’d really like to return the favor. Besides, remember that this is Palm Beach. She and the rest of the bridesmaids pooled their resources, and they have a pretty hefty entertainment budget. I think you’ll like the pay.”
The figure JoJo named made Ruby gasp.
“Seriously? For two or three hours? Heck, I’d stay all night for that,” she exclaimed with a grin. “Tell Courtney I’ll be there. Just let me know the time and address.”
“I’ll confirm it now. What do you need from her as far as a setup?”
There was a quick discussion of the particulars—hostess to supply a table, two chairs, and a quiet spot to put them; Ruby to bring the fancy tablecloth, some crystals and incense, and the cards. Then Ruby settled back to enjoy the final five minutes of cool weather before the day’s temperature hit the usual mid-80s typical of a West Palm Beach spring day. JoJo, meanwhile, pulled out her phone and called her friend.
“Hey, girl, I got you your substitute Tarot card reader,” she said without preamble. “Let me tell you what she needs, and then give me the party details.”
While Ruby made quick work of her fritter, JoJo scribbled a few notes on a pad she’d pulled from her cavernous designer bag.
“Uh-huh … uh-huh,” she agreed, still scribbling. “Okay, I think I’ve got everything. Don’t worry, Ruby will be there on time, and she assured me she’d dress the part. Yes, I promise, you’ll love her. Okay, buh-bye.”
She pressed the end button on the cell and ripped the top sheet of paper from the pad, sliding it across the table to Ruby.
“There you go … time, names, address. It’s a gated street, so you’ll need to stop at the guard house and give the guy your driver’s license. Don’t worry, the guard’ll have your name on file. And then, when you get to the house, punch that four-digit number right there”—she pointed to a code written at the bottom of the page—“into the box at the gate, and it will open automatically. She said you can park with the rest of the cars and come in the front door.”
“You mean I don’t need to walk around to the back door like the rest of the hired help?” Ruby asked with a grin.
JoJo grinned back. “Heck, no. Madam Ruby, Reader Extraordinaire, only uses the front door. And make sure you dress all exotic. No FAU Owl T-shirts,” she said with a pointed gesture at the college jersey Ruby wore over a pair of jeans. “Lots of sparkly stuff and plenty of eye makeup. These girls are used to no-holds-barred kind of events, so don’t be afraid of going over the top with how you look. But try not to take the mood down with a bunch of dire predictions.”
