Who Do, Voodoo?, page 14
“I’ll come pick it up. I knew you’d help, thanks,” I said.
“No problem. I’ll leave it at the desk with the guard downstairs. Oops. Another call. It’s Sam. Gotta go.”
As I drove across La Cienega Boulevard, the two lanes narrowed to one to make room for a truck and crew trimming the palm trees. With traffic bottlenecked and no alternate route to take, I decided to return my mother’s call.
She picked up on the first ring. “Elizabeth, where have you been? I’ve been waiting all day for you to call.”
“I’ve been busy, Mom. Robin’s still in jail. I’m trying to help her if I can.”
“Oh dear. Should I call your brother, Dave?”
“No—please don’t. He knows.”
“Okay. By the way, did you get my incense from that little shop?”
“No. Madame Iyå didn’t carry your brand.” I could tell by the tone of her voice that something other than incense was on her mind. “What else is going on, Mom?”
She let out a long sigh. “Well, I know you’re busy but I’m worried about Jarret. You know he lost the game last night and flew back to town. He called me this morning.”
Of course he did. Whenever Jarret couldn’t get what he wanted from me, he used my mother. He toyed with her loyalty, knowing she liked to brag about her son-in-law the sports celebrity. She excused his indiscretions and addictions as an occupational hazard. Mom treated our divorce as a minor misunderstanding.
“I forgot he was pitching.” I switched lanes to turn left onto Santa Monica Boulevard into Beverly Hills.
“Oh, Elizabeth. His loss took the Dodgers out of the play-offs. I can’t believe you didn’t know that. You should call him. He’s devastated. You know how upset he gets.” The whine in her voice frayed my nerves.
“That’s not my problem anymore—or yours.”
“But he’s alone. He was so down when he called.”
“Oh, poor thing.” My sarcasm came with ease. “Reminds me of how down and devastated I was when he cheated on me.”
“I’m sorry, dear. I know. But people change. He’s a nice boy. He needs a friend.”
“Jarret is an adult. He’ll learn how to deal with life on his own. I did.”
“You should talk to him, Liz,” she said. “Now that his season is over, maybe the two of you could spend time together again, as friends. It’s not like you’re seeing anyone else.”
The last line was tossed like a worm at the end of a fishing line. I wasn’t going to bite. “I have to go.”
“You work too hard,” she said. “You’re going to get lines on your face. I don’t know why you don’t use your divorce settlement to enjoy yourself.”
“Mom, I have to go. Give Daddy a kiss for me,” I said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey. Call Jarret.”
I parked in the loading zone in front of the Collins Talent office building, walked up the steps, and entered through the glass doors. I gave the guard at the desk my name. He handed me the envelope from Lulu, and I thanked him. Inside was the four-page guest list to the Steve Weller after-party. When I got back in my car, I scanned over the names. Missing were Sam, Lulu, Robin, and, I assumed, the rest of the Collins Talent staff who worked the party. But I had the names of invited guests.
It took almost an hour to drive back over the hill to Studio City and my townhouse. If I had a dollar for every minute I wasted in traffic, I could buy a house at the beach.
Once home, I went through my mail, plugged my phone into the charger in the kitchen, then checked for phone messages. No calls. I called Ralph Barnes for an update. No news on the DNA test. I went into the bedroom and stretched out on the bed to rest. Hissy’s workout had caught up with me. Every muscle ached.
I jerked awake at six o’clock. A hot shower revitalized my burning muscles. I dotted rose oil on my neck, put on a long-sleeved silk coral blouse, slid into jeans, and stepped into beige pumps. I tucked the guest list into my purse to show Nick after the séance, threw on my black coat, and drove over the hill again to Sophie’s apartment.
Streetlamps lit the sidewalk and the steps to the building. The lights were on in Henry’s apartment, but he wasn’t at the window. I rang the doorbell to apartment 3 and announced myself on the intercom. Linda buzzed me in.
When I got to the end of the corridor, Linda opened her apartment door, barefoot, in an embroidered white Indian shirt over white silk pants. “Come on in. I’m glad you made it. Can I get you a glass of wine?”
“Yes, thanks,” I said, following her into the living room. The low hum of a flute played beneath the buzz of conversation. The furniture was pushed against the wall, leaving a large open area in the middle of the floor. A donation basket, layered with twenty-dollar bills, sat on a table in front of the kitchen counter. I took a twenty from my wallet and dropped it on top of the others.
Nola, Madame Iyå, and Jimmy chatted outside the kitchen. A plump redhead in a ruffled red camisole teetered on black platform sandals on the other side of the living room. She was talking to—oh my God—Henry Marx. A bolt of nerves shot through me. Henry was the only one who knew about my connection to the police. I tried to catch his eye. He saw me and lit up in a smile. I pressed my lips together and shook my head in a plea for silence. He turned away. I loved that man.
Linda handed me a glass of red wine. “Come on and meet everyone.” She led me across the room. She introduced the redhead, Tawny Dalton, as Sophie’s friend and coworker at the Chic Boutique in Beverly Hills.
“I can’t believe this. Last week Sophie and I tried on bridal dresses at Saks on our lunch hour.” Tawny twirled the wine glass in her hand. “I was going to be one of her bridesmaids. Sophie wanted us to wear lavender dresses. I miss her so much. I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.”
I set my hand on her shoulder. “Just being here and talking about Sophie among her friends is healing.”
“Do you think we’ll be able to talk to Sophie tonight?” Tawny said.
“I don’t know what to expect,” I said. “I’m keeping my mind open.”
“I expect she’ll float in and tell us to drink champagne in her memory,” Henry said with a smile. His green woolen sweater smelled of musk cologne. “She’ll love that her pretty friends are here tonight. Did you work with Sophie, too?”
“We had mutual friends,” I said, wanting to kiss him. “I’m Liz Cooper.”
He covered my hand and squeezed.
Tawny turned to me, her eyes searching. “I don’t remember Sophie mentioning you. What do you do?”
“I’m a psychologist. I have a practice in Studio City.”
“Was Sophie your client?”
“Hardly.” Nola joined us, towering over Henry in three-inch spike-heeled, black-leather boots. The silver bracelets on her arms jangled as she pointed her wine glass at me. “She’s best friends with Sophie’s killer.”
“Who?” Tawny said, wide-eyed.
“Sam’s secretary.” Nola sneered, then walked away.
Tawny and Henry looked at me. I felt I owed Henry at least part of the truth.
“Nola’s wrong. She wants answers. So do I. But nothing’s been proven. No one’s been arrested yet,” I said. “I met Sophie when I visited my friend Robin, who works for Sam, at Collins Talent. Sophie was there with Sam. I came tonight, hoping to gain insight from Sophie about what happened the night she died. What about you? Why did you come?”
“I came because I miss her,” Henry said. “Sophie moved into this building while my wife was still alive. After Maria died, Sophie came and sat with me, kept me company.” He looked around, then leaned in to Tawny and me. “She did a ritual to help Maria pass into the spirit world. Sophie knew things.”
“What do you mean? What kind of things?” I said.
Henry stared at his feet. He wiped his chin. He looked up at me. “Sophie knew how to contact the dead.”
Not a point I would argue at a séance. “Did she tell you who taught her?”
“Her grandmother, down in New Orleans,” Henry said. “The one who raised Sophie.”
“Is her grandmother still in New Orleans?”
Henry shook his head. “Such a shame. They were evacuated to Houston when Katrina hit. The grandmother died in a hospital there. Sophie came out here with nothing.”
“She found a good friend,” I said. “I can see that you cared about her.”
“Yes, I did. I came tonight to show I wouldn’t forget her.”
“None of us will forget.” Tawny raised her glass. “Here’s to Sophie.”
Henry clinked his glass to Tawny’s. “To Sophie.”
“If you two will excuse me, I want to say hello to Madame Iyå.” I walked toward the dining room table, where Madame Iyå, decked out in a purple caftan embroidered with stars, was emptying a large shopping bag.
I tapped her arm and she turned to me, a box of cornmeal in her hand.
“Madame Iyå,” I said. “Do you need any help?”
“No, dear. I’m almost ready.” Madame Iyå glanced at the donation basket at the side of the table. “But you can show your generosity to the spirits. We have to encourage them to bring Sophie to us tonight.”
“Oh, I already did.”
Madame Iyå stared at the basket. I slipped a hand into my coat pocket, pulled out a couple of bills, and added them to the top of the pile.
She smiled, watching the bills settle. “The spirits will be very pleased. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish unpacking and set out the candles. You can shut off the music so we can begin.”
As I turned off the CD player, I saw Jimmy slip out of Sophie’s room. He sauntered down the hall toward me.
“I’m Jimmy Johnson. I don’t think I know you.” His eyes drifted to my chest.
“Liz Cooper.” I held out my hand.
Instead of responding with a handshake, Jimmy took my hand and kissed it. “Enchanted. I can’t resist beautiful women.”
I fought the impulse to wipe my hand on the back of my jeans. “You and Sophie were friends?”
“Very good friends.” He smoothed back his hair and grinned. “Sophie was hot.”
Nola came over and locked her arm into Jimmy’s. “What are you up to, shrink? Flirting with my pal now?”
Jimmy looked me over and said, “Are you a shrink?”
I nodded. “Psychologist.”
Nola downed the rest of her wine. “Do your clients know you slum with the Hollywood crowd at night?”
“Ease up.” Jimmy unhooked his arm from hers.
“No, seriously, I still don’t get why she’s here.” She pointed at me with her empty glass.
Linda, listening a few feet away, moved between us. “Your negative energy isn’t welcome here, Nola. If you don’t lighten up, you can leave.”
“Oh, come on,” Nola said. “Get serious. We all know who killed Sophie.”
And I was counting on learning the truth.
Chapter Twenty-one
“Everyone,please. There’s too much chaotic energy in the room. We need peace to create a spiritual environment.” Madame Iyå came out of the kitchen and set a bowl of water in the center of the living room. Jimmy helped her ease down cross-legged onto the floor behind it, her long earrings jangling in the effort. He set two baskets to her side.
“I’m ready to begin,” she said. “Turn off your cell phones. I want everyone to take a piece of paper and write out a question for Sophie. When you’re finished, fold it, put it into the bowl, and join me in a circle on the floor. The water will invite Sophie’s spirit and protect the room from unwelcome forces.”
I searched through my purse, then swore under my breath for leaving my phone charging on my kitchen counter. Clever to juice it up before I left, not clever enough to remember to bring it with me.
Jimmy took paper from the table and gave each of us a piece.
“What are you going to ask, Liz?” Tawny said.
I lowered my voice. “I think I’ll ask Sophie to name her attacker. What about you?”
“Sophie’s up there now.” Tawny looked up. “She knows if my new boyfriend is a keeper. I used her love spell to find him. So, that’s my question: ‘Is Marvin the one?’ I wonder if we can ask more than one?”
“Why not? Ask away.” I wrote out my question, folded the paper, and dropped it into the water, deciding to corner Tawny after the séance about her spell. Then I sat on the floor with the others, across from Madame Iyå, and waited for the show to begin.
“Before we go on, everyone take off your jewelry.” Madame Iyå slipped off her earrings and continued, “Do any of the women here have their period right now?”
What a bizarre question. Henry blew his nose. Nola and Linda shook their heads no. Tawny giggled.
Madame Iyå shot her a look. “Don’t laugh about this. The dead have no joy. They’ll think you’re mocking them. Menstrual blood draws demons. Do you have your period?”
“No.” Tawny dropped her head.
Madame Iyå looked at Jimmy. “Create the circle of protection.”
He picked up the cornmeal, pulled a switchblade from his pocket, and punctured the top of the box. I shifted, uneasy at the casual deftness with which he handled the blade. Tawny gaped, but neither Nola nor Linda appeared surprised that Jimmy pocketed a weapon.
“No. I said no metal. Put that thing away, Jimmy. It will repel the spirits,” Madame Iyå said with disgust.
He grunted as he put the knife away, and then sprinkled a line of grain around us.
“Very well, then.” Madame Iyå picked up a white candle from the basket beside her. “I’m passing candles around the circle for each of you to hold, then pass on. We’re charging them with our energy to unify our purpose as a group.”
She handed the first candle to Nola, on her right. Nola passed it to Linda, and the candle made its way around the circle from Linda to me to Henry to Tawny and at last to Jimmy. He lit it and set it in front of Nola. Seven candles went around. When the final one was lit, we each had a candle burning in front of us. Jimmy got up and turned off the lights. The faces around me were illuminated with a golden glow.
Madame Iyå reached into the other basket and took out seven white roses. “Sophie’s favorite flower.”
We each set a rose in front of us with the bud facing the bowl in the center.
“Until we release the spirits at the end of the séance, we have to keep the circle unbroken. Link little fingers with the person on each side of you. Don’t touch knees or anything else besides your fingers.”
I felt Linda touch my left pinkie. I moved my right finger to seek Henry’s. Linked, we rested our hands on the floor. I shifted to get comfortable and looked around. Tawny, Linda, Nola, and Henry sat erect, watching Madame Iyå.
Madame Iyå positioned four candles around the bowl of water, forming a cross. “The spirits seek the light.” She lowered her voice. “Focus on the candles and the water, then close your eyes. Sophie will come to us through our senses. In scent, in feel, in sound, through the vision of your third eye.”
I focused on my breathing, my senses heightened in the darkness. The scent of the roses wafted in through the air. No one spoke. I felt the touch of Henry’s and Linda’s fingers on mine. A chill of anticipation washed through me.
Madame Iyå began to hum. Linda joined in, and then Tawny. Nola and the rest of us followed. I inhaled, then exhaled a tone that vibrated from the back of my throat to the top of my head. The room came alive with sound.
As the low, steady chant continued, I cracked open my eyes a slit. Okay. No one was levitating.
Madame Iyå rocked back and forth, shaking a small brass rattle. “I call to the spirits to welcome us and bless our circle. We humbly ask you to send the spirit of our beloved Sophie here to join us. We open our minds and our hearts to be with her here tonight. Sophie.” Madame Iyå chanted: “So-phie. So-phie. So-phie.”
A clock ticked in the background. A car passed outside. Air hummed out of the heat register.
“Come to us, Sophie darling,” Madame Iyå said.
Linda curled her pinky tighter around mine. I squeezed back.
Madame Iyå hummed, then spoke. “Sophie, your friends are here. We miss you. We love you.”
“I don’t feel anything,” Tawny said.
Neither did I. I was waiting for a sheet on a wire to float over my head.
“Shhh. Focus on your breathing. Spirits will follow the resonance of our breath.” A full minute passed, then Madame Iyå spoke again. “Sophie is here. I feel her. She wants to communicate with each of you in her own way. Some with words, some with feelings. Open yourself up. She will contact you.”
I stared into the candlelight reflection in the bowl of water, aware of the subtle movements from the people in the circle. I decided to mimic their body language to see if I could read them. Linda’s body was open and peaceful; her face relaxed. Tawny fidgeted. She rolled her shoulders. Her eyelids were pinched shut, her face twitching. I copied the movement and felt her nervousness. Henry nodded with his eyes squeezed tight. His shoulders were slack, showing no tension. Nola sat erect, biting her lower lip. I stiffened, bit my own lip, and picked up on her anxiety. Jimmy’s shoulders were hunched. His eyes darted around the room. I mimicked him and felt guarded, cautious. Then I relaxed myself, letting my body ease.
Madame Iyå inhaled, then released her breath. “Sophie thanks us for the roses, the flower of love, and she feels the love in the room tonight. She’s at peace.”
A candle popped. Shadows flickered on the walls outside of the circle. Henry and Tawny still had their eyes closed. Nola and Jimmy looked at each other and smiled. Linda didn’t move. Her eyes fixed on the candlelight in the center.
“Tawny,” Madame Iyå said. “Sophie cherished your friendship. She wants you to take her violet sweater and wear it when you miss her.”
“Oh, I will. I know just which one. It was her favorite. Thank you.” Tawny looked up, as if to glimpse Sophie’s ghost above her.
I recalled the violet sweater on the drawer pull in Sophie’s room. Was that why Jimmy went in there? Scouting for tools for Madame Iyå?
