Mama Pursues Murderous Shadows

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.

Acknowledgments

Prologue

R
uby Spikes bolted straight up and opened her eyes. Sweat rolled off her body like it was near a furnace—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and the remote control for the television; on the other, the neatly stacked and counted two thousand dollars she’d withdrawn from the bank.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 nobody 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 weak—she just couldn’t fight any more. Ignoring the warning, she heaved a weary sigh and slipped the dead bolt from the door.

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 Saturday 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.… 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 of—”

“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 fashion shows. And, honest, Mama, Yasmine’s got a real flare for—”

“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 do—I guess I’d used that technique too many times before.

“Okay,” I said, deciding to switch gears. No matter her objections, I wasn’t about to give in to her on this. You see, I work in the law office of Sidney Jacoby, a prominent Atlanta defense attorney. I’m a paralegal in the Research Department. My job requires me to grab onto a tiny bit of information that Sidney has unearthed and pursue it further. Usually, I’m like a pit bull, not letting go until I come up with something that Sidney can use. I guess what I’m saying is, I
know
how to be persistent. Most of the time, though, I don’t try this routine with Mama—that’s because most of the time I know that no matter how much time I put in trying to get her to change her mind, Mama’s wishes always prevail.

On the subject of this anniversary party, however,
I was as determined as my mother can be when she makes her mind up. I’d already told Cliff, my boyfriend, a divorce lawyer who is on a partnership track in his law firm, that we were going to give Mama and Daddy the best anniversary party Otis had ever seen. “I’ll make a deal with you,” I now said to Mama in a more compromising tone.