But a teeny part of my mind said, If she were anything like Emily Styx, she probably would've wanted me to do the right thing. Dammit.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Kelly gave an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. "Please, Nicki. Help this poor woman find peace. What could possibly go wrong?"

In my opinion, that particular phrase was one of the top ten things people said before all hell broke loose. Kinda like "Trust me" and "I'm sure there's no boogeyman in the basement."

I threw up my hands and grabbed the curtains, staring morosely out at the oak tree.

"Okay, we'll stay a few more hours. If she shows up again, fine-but if there's a boogeyman in the basement, you're on your own."

--- Dinner at the Blue Dahlia was obviously an event. Late afternoon daylight was still streaming through the dining room windows, but candles were lit, both on the table and on the buffet that stood against one wall. Soft music played in the background, classical stuff that sounded like elevator music.

Joe had made it back from the bed and breakfast just in time for us to join Leonard in the dining room-I hadn't had the time or the privacy to tell him about Psycho Barbie, or about Kelly's stunt with the scrying mirror.

"Well, ladies, any progress?" Leonard had dressed for dinner, and was now wearing a dark green suit jacket, shiny with age. He'd even changed his tie, switching from the bow tie he'd had on earlier to a green and yellow striped one. Poor guy obviously needed a little help in the GQ department.

"Not really," Kelly answered. "We've been looking for pictures, legal papers, that kind of thing, but no luck so far."

"That reminds me," Leonard said, reaching inside his coat. He pulled two envelopes from his breast pocket and held them out. "These are yours. One for each of you. They were in the study, just as I thought."

I made no move to take them, but Kelly immediately reached out a hand.

Two white letter-sized envelopes, both blank on the outside.

"Which one's for who?" she asked.

Leonard shrugged. "I have no idea, my dear. Bijou said you'd know."

Kelly and I glanced at each other, then back at the envelopes.

"Ah, I think we'll open them later," she said. "If you don't mind."

"Of course not." Leonard looked a little disappointed, but he seemed relieved to have that obligation dealt with. "In the meantime, may I offer you a glass of wine?"

"Red for me," I said automatically. I had a feeling my wimpy ticker would need all the help it could get tonight. It was times like this that I missed hard liquor... a shot of Glenlivet would really hit the spot.

"For me as well," Joe said. There was a moment of awkward silence as Leonard poured. "Wonderful library," Joe offered, obviously making small talk. "Bijou must've been quite a reader. How big is this house, anyway?"

"Seven bedrooms, three and a half baths." Leonard handed Joe and I our glasses, then offered one to Kelly. "Speaking of bedrooms, I thought one of you might enjoy the Delft Room."

I shot Kelly a warning look. I had no intention of staying at the Blue Dahlia overnight.

"The Delft Room?" Kelly gave me a bland look that I took to mean be patient, but otherwise ignored my glare.

"Most of the rooms have names, you see, based on the color scheme. Delft is a particular type of blue and white pottery that originated in Holland." Leonard ushered us toward the table.

"It sounds lovely." Kelly smiled at the old man, encouraging him to talk.

Leonard pulled out her chair, a true Southern gentleman. He beamed like a university professor about to embark on a lecture about his favorite subject. "I'll show it to you right after dinner. It's a charming room, though a bit small... oh, what am I saying? We have four other bedrooms on the second floor-you must take your pick." He held my chair also. "I'm quite sure my darling Bijou would've wanted you to be comfortable."

Joe spoke up. "That's very kind of you, Leonard, but we've already arranged rooms at the Cabot House."

"The Cabot House?" Leonard's bushy brows shot toward the ceiling. "Whyever would you want to stay there? I have it on good authority that the owner rarely changes the linens. Besides, we have empty rooms just going to waste right here." The poor old guy looked so earnest, so hopeful. "Oh, do say you'll stay."

"I don't see why we can't stay here." Kelly's objection made me want to strangle her. "It would save us some money, and there's obviously plenty of room. No one seems to mind."

"Huh," came Odessa's voice. She waddled in with a soup tureen, placed it on the table with a thump, and waddled out the way she came.

"You mustn't mind Odessa," Leonard said, going red. "She knows my darling Bijou would have extended you every hospitality." He raised his voice here, so Odessa could hear it if she cared to, then lowered it again. "The poor dear is just protective of the old place, a bit set in her ways. A creature of habit, don't you know."

Creature, yes. Poor dear, my ass.

"I so wish you'd stay." Leonard looked a bit flushed, which was not a good match with his green and yellow tie. He shot a guilty glance toward the kitchen and leaned in, all but whispering, "My darling Bijou would be so disappointed if you allowed Odessa's rudeness to drive you away. It's a lovely old house, with plenty of room. Odessa is all bark and no bite." He straightened, speaking in a normal tone again. "Save the money for the bed and breakfast and buy yourself something nice with it instead."

Kelly smiled and nodded as if it were settled. Joe met my eyes, questioning, but those damn Southern manners of mine had already kicked in, and it would have been impolite to argue over dinner. Kelly had me at a disadvantage, and she knew it.

Odessa came and went, bearing platters of food and tons of bad attitude. I had to hand it to her on the food, though... the roast beef looked tender and juicy, the mashed potatoes fluffy, the vegetables steaming.

"This looks delicious," I said, suddenly dying for a biscuit.

Maybe I could kill the creature with kindness.

"Huh," she answered, and moved the biscuits closer to Joe before slapping down a gravy boat.

Leonard took a seat across the table from Kelly. The chair at the head of the table stayed empty.

"Looks wonderful as always, Odessa." Leonard rubbed his hands together and eyed the roast beef. "I can't wait to see what you've made for dessert."

"You know what I made for dessert," she grumbled. "I had to smack yo' fingers outta that pie all afternoon."

Leonard shoved his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, unfazed by her grouchiness. "It's your own fault. You know how I love apple pie."

"You love any kind of pie," she shot back. "You 'bout to split the seams on them trousers as it is."

"Aren't you going to sit down and eat with us, Odessa?" Kelly asked.

"I eat in the kitchen," Odessa said. "The dining room is for guests." She removed the lid from a steaming tureen of soup and waddled from the room.

"I thought you said Bijou and Odessa were friends, Leonard." Kelly was frowning. "Didn't they take meals together?"

Leonard looked uncomfortable. "Sometimes. But only in the kitchen."

Mystified, I raised an eyebrow.

"This is Savannah, my dears." He shrugged, bald head gleaming. "What can I say?"

"But this is the twenty-first century," Kelly said, obviously shocked, "not the pre-Civil War era."

A big bite of mashed potatoes kept Leonard from answering too quickly. Then he said, "I think you'll find that in Savannah, the past is very much alive." He took a sip of wine to wash down the potatoes. "In more ways than one."

Great.

Exactly what I was afraid of.

When it came to the past, I was tired of poking around trying to figure it out. I'd rather have some direct answers to some direct questions, and move on. Manners dictated I be polite, but nothing prohibited my being direct.

"So Leonard," I said, "tell us about Bijou and Peaches. Why didn't Peaches tell us about this house, about Bijou? And why was it so important to Bijou that we come to Savannah?"

Leonard blinked like an owl behind his glasses.

Trying to remain patient, I elaborated. "Peaches never mentioned that we had a grandmother. In fact, she told Kelly that she lived alone, with no family, and worked for an insurance company."

"They had a disagreement." He shrugged. "You know how complicated mother-daughter relationships can be."

"What did they fight about?"

"I have no idea," Leonard said. He took another sip of wine. "More mashed potatoes?"

He dabbed at his lips with a napkin while Kelly and I exchanged a glance: "What's going on here, Leonard?" Something was up. The beads of sweat forming on that bald head weren't caused by hot soup.

"You done started it, Leonard, and now you gots to finish it." Odessa's voice from the doorway behind us made me jump. "Tell 'em. Go on, tell 'em."

Leonard looked at us helplessly, then laid down his napkin. "But that's the problem, you see." He wet his lips, glancing back and forth between Kelly and I. "You must forgive an old man, but I'm not supposed to tell you anything."

Huh?

"Dammit, Leonard." Odessa may've taken her meals in the kitchen, but she had no problem speaking her mind.

I swiveled in my chair to look at her, and Kelly did the same.

"What that old fool is trying to say," she waved a plump hand at Leonard, "is that you either got the knack or you don't."

The knack.

"Both your mama and Miz Bijou-they got the knack. If you got it, well and good. If you don't, they ain't nothin' here you need to know." She glared at us both, taking her time. "The house be the one to decide whether to tell you its secrets."

Odessa met my eyes one final time before turning away.

"Y'all enjoy your dinner."

CHAPTER 12.

"A tarot card?"

I stared at the image in Kelly's hand; a burning tower, all black and gray and grim as Hell. Tarot cards were supposed to be colorful, weren't they? "Are you kidding me?"

My card was more like it, even if it made no more sense than hers-a hunky blond guy riding in a chariot, blue and silver on a bright yellow background.

Since neither envelope was addressed, we'd chosen at random, and I'd taken the one from Kelly's left hand.

"The Tower,'" she read aloud from the bottom of her card, then glanced at mine. "The Chariot. What do you think they mean?"

I checked the now empty envelope again to see if I'd missed anything. "Senility comes to mind."

"We should have come here sooner. I really wanted to talk to Bijou again, and now it's too late." Kelly looked sad, guilty even. "Didn't you want to get to know her better?"

I didn't know how to answer that, so I just shrugged.

"I was hoping she could tell us about Peaches, talk to us about the knack."

"You probably didn't miss much," I said. "If this is her idea of a letter to her granddaughters, she obviously had a screw loose."

I paced the floor of the Delft Room, a blue and white attic bedroom Leonard had shown us to after dinner.

"Why are you always so cynical?" Kelly sat on the bed-the only bed-which had a blue and white quilt as coverlet. The walls were papered in elaborate blue and white toile, taking advantage of the odd-shaped angles of the room. The garret-style windows were draped with lace.

"I'm not cynical," I said, "I'm pissed. I feel like I've just stepped into a frilly version of the Twilight Zone." Tarot cards? This made no sense. "What's going on here?"

"Hell if I know," Kelly said, surprising me with the casual profanity. She tapped her card with one hard. "But it'll be fun to find out."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I had no problem with profanity, especially if the situation called for it. "This is not fun. I've had a lot of fun," I made marks in the air with my fingers, "and this isn't it."

She shrugged, giving me a grin. "So you say."

"Thanks for setting me up at dinner, by the way." I crossed my arms and thrust out a hip, unamused. "You didn't even bother to ask if Joe and I wanted to stay here tonight before you agreed to it."

"I didn't think you'd mind. What's the harm?"

"What's the harm?" That innocent look of hers wasn't fooling anybody. "This house is haunted, and we see dead people. Do I need to spell it out for you?"

I did not need more drama in my life.

The Blue Dahlia had drama written all over it.

There was a tap at the door, which was open. "What's the verdict?" Joe asked, stepping into the room. "Do we stay or do we go? Leonard's asked me twice if he can help me with our luggage, and I'm not sure how much longer I can hold him off."

"I thought you took it to the Cabot House," I said.

He shrugged. "I checked us in, but the rooms weren't ready. Luggage is still in the trunk."

Damn.