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“Yes, of course I do. That’s how I was able to get this house before it was put on the market. Of course I had to agree to purchase it ‘as is,’ and that is why we’re both huffing and puffing like two old women.”

Sophie grinned. “We are old women.”

“Bullshit. You might be, but I plan to live it up, regardless of my age.”

“Old women but young at heart. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds like the crock of brown crap that it is. Now, let’s get something to drink before we rust.”

Both women laughed like teenagers as they raided the liquor cabinet.

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Toots and Sophie spent the next hour switching rooms. When all was said and done, Toots didn’t feel one bit better about moving into Sophie’s room. “Can a ghost follow you around?” she asked when they were out of Mavis’s and Ida’s earshot.

“Sure, I don’t see why not. Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m not sure if trading rooms is a good idea or not. What if this ghost or whatever the hell it is follows me to your room? Then what? We can play musical rooms all we want. Eventually, Ida and Mavis are bound to get a bit suspicious. Ida might even suggest I make an appointment with Dr. Sameer. I think I’d rather be haunted by a ghost than treated by him.”

Sophie shot her a dirty look. “I feel the same way, but remember, he helped Ida. We have to be thankful for that. Can you imagine her living here in these conditions? We’d have to bury her.”

“I’m not so sure her condition was as bad as she wanted everyone to believe. Oh, I know her hands looked terrible, but that’s just like Ida. She will go to extremes to get her way. I think Dr. Sameer was good for her, but I don’t believe it was his medical skills that cured her.” Toots laughed.

“She’s been acting very strange the past few mornings. Have you noticed? I don’t think she’s sleeping well. Maybe she’s being haunted, too, and doesn’t want us to know,” Sophie suggested.

“Now that you mention it, she has been acting rather odd. Maybe there is a…spirit or something in this house. It is the former home of Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz. Maybe they’re pissed at that little pop tart for what she did to their home,” Toots said, though she didn’t believe a single word of it.

“Could be. Maybe I can sneak into her room later tonight. I’ll try the shoe trick. It can’t hurt.”

“I thought you had to know what shoes the person would be wearing the next day,” Toots said.

“Yes, but Ida always wears those silly kitten slippers in the morning. I’ll give it a try, see if her behavior changes.”

Toots heard Ida and Mavis bustling about in their rooms, so she whispered, “What about the camera and those voice things you mentioned? I haven’t seen them. Do you really have this stuff, or were you just feeding me a line of bull?”

Sophie gazed around the room, which looked like a low-class brothel. “Now why would I lie about something so serious? Of course I have the equipment. It was the first purchase I made the minute I collected Walter’s life insurance. In case he ever tries to come back, I’ll know about it, but this time I will kick his ass before he gets a chance to kick mine.”

Though Toots wasn’t so sure Sophie was joking, she laughed anyway. “Yeah, that’s one way to get back at the old bastard if he tries to come back and haunt you.”

Sophie shifted around, her eyes downcast. Toots knew what she was going to say before the words came out of her mouth. “None of the faces I saw were Walter. If so, I would’ve socked the son of a bitch right in the kisser.”

“You don’t think I’m crazy for thinking this…?”

“No more than I am. Look at what I saw. It wasn’t my imagination. The cold, the puffy-looking clouds, faces whose mouths moved with no sound coming from them. That sounds crazy. However, I am smart enough, sane enough, to know it was not a figment of my imagination. I suppose Walter could materialize just as easily as those…things, but something tells me he’s burning in hell with all the other bastards who beat up on women just so they could feel superior. Want to know what I really believe?”

“What?” Sophie asked.

“I think there is a special place in hell for men like him. Women, too. Mean people.”

Sophie seemed to consider her words, “Yeah, I suppose that would be nice. Maybe Lucifer himself deals with jerks like Walter. I for one don’t plan on finding out anytime soon.”

“Then you’d better lay off Ida, because the killer looks she gives you could be fatal.”

Again the pair laughed until their eyes were damp with tears, and both had stitches in their sides.

“Don’t ever tell her this, but I do love the old bitch. I just delight in tormenting her. Those looks she gives me are priceless, so I doubt I’ll stop annoying her any time in the near future.”

“I wouldn’t dream of raining on your parade with Ida, but don’t go too far. Cut her some slack now and then. She’s still a bit on the sensitive side. I can’t believe she hasn’t mentioned Jerry lately. She never misses an opportunity to tell me how it ruined her life when I supposedly took him away from her.” Jerry had been dating Ida when he fell madly in love with Toots. Like a fool, Toots married him. He’d been nothing more than a cheapskate and an inadequate lover to boot. She didn’t like to think ill of the dead, but facts were facts. Toots figured her assessment of his qualities was more than generous. “I did her a favor when I married the old schmuck.”

“True, but we all know she would never admit that. What number was he anyway?” Sophie asked.

Toots paused. “Five or six. I can’t remember.”

“Between you and Ida, I’ve never been able to keep up. Good thing Mavis and I stuck with just one marriage each. Though we could have been husband-hoppers like you two. We’d have a hell of a lot more men to bash, that’s for sure.” Sophie grinned as she placed a stack of panties in the top drawer.

“Yes, not that it matters now. We can’t remember mine and Ida’s as it is,” Toots said. “Husband-hoppers, huh?”

“Yeah, I gave you two that nickname way back in the day. I think I even told Mavis about it. She said that you and Ida were just having a tough time finding the perfect match. It sure sounds better than ‘sluts’ or ‘tramps.’”

Toots raised her hand high in the air. “I ought to smack you for that. I was never a tramp. Or a slut. That was Ida, who screwed anything and everything outside her marriage. My feelings are hurt that you would think of me that way.”

“Oh can it! I didn’t come out and say you were a slut. Some did, back in the day, but I think they were just jealous because they didn’t have dates or couldn’t get laid.”

Toots sat down on the bed. “Please, let’s not talk about sex. It’s too early in the day. I want to get this ghost business taken care of and soon. Let’s get cleaned up and go to the Polo Lounge.” Toots pounced off the bed like a cat with one remaining life. Suddenly, the room felt eerie, almost alive. Shivers ran down her back, causing the hair on her arms to rise. “I don’t want to discuss anything else about anyone or anything until we’re seated at our favorite table with an alcoholic beverage.”

Sophie finished putting her clothes in the drawer. “Sounds good. Give me twenty minutes to shower and change.”

Toots stood in the doorway. “Not one minute more. I want to get out of this place. I feel creepy just being in this room. You have nineteen minutes to make yourself pretty, or I’m going solo.”

“Then get out of here so I can shower,” Sophie tossed over her shoulder as she made her way to the small bathroom.

Toots flipped her middle finger high in the air as she crossed the hall to her new room. If these strange ghostly, haunting feelings continued, she would return to the Beverly Hills Hotel. At least there she could be scared in a safe and familiar environment.

Toots climbed behind the wheel of the bright-red Thunderbird that she’d purchased after she bought the paper. With a two-seater, she figured she would never have to haul more than herself and one person around, and that suited her. One person at a time in a vehicle on California’s freeways was as much as she wanted to handle at this stage in her life. Now when and if grandchildren came into the picture, well that was an entirely different matter.

She looked at her watch. Five more seconds and Sophie would be dining alone. One, two, three…

Toots put the T-Bird in reverse, then slammed on the brakes when she heard Sophie yell. “Don’t you dare leave here without me! I have two seconds to go.” Sophie opened the door just as Toots shifted into reverse again.

“I told you I was not going to wait longer than twenty minutes, and I meant it. I feel strange in that house, or I felt that way in your new room.”

Sophie tied a bright yellow scarf around her dark brown hair. “I haven’t felt anything yet, but it’s early. I’m going to set my surveillance equipment up as soon as we return. I did manage to sneak inside Ida’s room. I found those kitten slippers and placed one facing east and the other west, just in case.” Sophie secured the knot under her chin and slid on a pair of large-framed sunglasses. “We look like two movie stars, Toots.”

Knowing they’d be flying down the highway with the top down, Toots had tied her auburn hair back in a low ponytail. She’d added a thick white headband to keep her hair from going wild. She wore a pair of Christian Dior sunglasses, a gift from Chris, her stepson. She peered into the rearview mirror.

“I believe we do, Sophie. Let’s not talk about ghosts or Ida or anything negative. I want to enjoy the rest of the afternoon. I so love this California weather. In all the years I’ve spent in Charleston, I’ve never gotten used to that horrible humidity in the summer. I plan to spend summers in California from now on. What about you, Soph? Have you any plans for the future?”

Sophie leaned back against the headrest and stared up at the powder-blue sky, her yellow scarf billowing in the wind. “I try not to think that far ahead. Right now I’m having too much fun with one day at a time. These past few months have been like a breath of fresh air. For the first time in forever, I’m not walking on eggshells, I can say exactly what comes to mind without fearing Walter’s wrath. Did I ever tell you he wore lifts in his shoes?”

Laughing softly into the wind whipping over her head, Toots replied, “No, I believe that’s a piece of intelligence you kept to yourself. Maybe he suffered from small-man syndrome.”

“Who knows? I don’t care anymore. That part of my life is behind me. Now I can actually look to the future. You asked me if I had any plans, I guess not having any right now is what I would like to call my plan. Does that sound ungrateful or what?”

Toots realized Sophie was being serious and considered her answer before she replied. “No. It sounds like a woman who is finally happy and has every right to feel that way. Don’t ever feel guilty, Soph. You suffered way too long, if you ask me. I think not having plans is the perfect plan.”

Sophie simply nodded, a slight smile lifting one corner of her mouth.

Toots steered the small sports car down the narrow winding road over sloping hills covered in gnarled trees. Bright pink, red, and orange flowers dotted the edge of the road leading to the Pacific Coast Highway. Once she reached the highway, she pushed down on the accelerator. Toots raised her voice as the sounds of traffic surrounded them. “I love the colors here. Everywhere you look there is color,” she said, coming alive, instantly revived by the fresh ocean air.

“From what I hear, this is what’s known as the ‘ritzy area,’ where the rich and famous live. We both know that there are bad areas just like anywhere else,” Sophie shouted.

Toots leaned in close so she didn’t have to yell. “I know that. Everything is just so perfectly manicured. I know it’s not real, Sophie. This is Hollywood, the land of make-believe. I can only imagine how much water is used, how much hard work goes into keeping these areas ‘ritzy.’ It must cost zillions to keep the streets in such pristine condition. Abby has told me all about the darker side of Los Angeles. I don’t have any immediate plans to venture into unfamiliar territory. If and when I do, I’ll make sure to drag your ass along for the ride.”

Sophie grinned. “You’re a true Southern bitch, Toots.”

Toots removed her right hand from the steering wheel, stretching her hand out so that it was directly in front of Sophie’s eyes. Then she gave her the one-finger salute.

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Amala was a whore and the greediest bitch he’d ever laid eyes on. A true slut if ever there was one. A guy could go far with her. Very, very far. For a price. How did he know that? Because on more than one occasion he had done so himself. But he had never paid the going rate; nor would he ever. Those luscious lips and dark seductive eyes of hers held no power over him. Unlike most men, he saw her for what she truly was. A conniving, double-dealing, manipulating scam artist. He should know. He’d lived with her for five years.

Mohammed Dasgupta laughed to himself as he parked the sleek white limousine beneath the portico in front of Ben’s Place. He’d been warned to use the proper name, the Center for Mind and Body, but it was too long. He liked Ben’s Place much better. Sounded much more American than the Center for Mind and Body.

This New Age crap they were trying to pass off as medical treatment was their biggest con to date. Luckily for that old woman who’d been afraid of germs, old Patel, a.k.a. Ben, did have a bit of medical knowledge, he just didn’t have the degree to back it up. It was only a piece of paper anyway. Patel was as good as any licensed medical doctor. This Mohammed knew, as Patel had personally saved his life many years ago.

He had to admit when Amala first approached him with her plans, he’d been intrigued. He was unsure if they could actually pull off such a stunt, but the payoff was worth the risk. Six months, she’d said. If they didn’t have their money by then, and she had assured him it would be in the millions, they would move on to bigger and better game.