Free Mama Cracks a Mask of Innocence by Nora Deloach Page B

of the box, check my answering machine, water my plants.”
    “Anything else your faithful and loyal servant can do for you, madam?” Cliff teased.
    “Yes,” I shot back. “But I’ll give
that
order when you get here!”

    After dinner Mama and I set out to visit Kitty Sharp, the person whose name Dolly had whispered in Mama’s ear. “You know what Agatha said when I tried to get her to tell me why she didn’t like that handsome Ray Raisin?” I asked Mama. We were passing Agatha’s empty house: Dolly had told us that Kitty lived several miles down the road.
    Mama looked at me.
    “She said that she knew more than one person who wore wings who turned out to be an angel of darkness rather than an angel of light.”
    “I agree with Agatha,” Mama told me.
    “I don’t care how many times she puts me off, I’m going to find out what went down between her and Ray Raisin. I can’t imagine a man that fine doing anything to deliberately hurt Agatha.”
    The clock on the dashboard flashed nine-fifteen when we pulled up in front of Kitty Sharp’s house. My headlights shone on a dark-colored Jaguar parked in front of us.
    “Boy,” I commented. “Who’d ever thought there would be somebody who made enough money in Otis to afford a Jaguar? There is at least one person in this town who is making some
serious
money!”
    “Uh-um,” Mama said, then, “Simone, blow the horn.”
    Nothing.
    “What now?” I asked.
    “If that’s Kitty Sharp’s car, she’s home. If she had a dog, he’d’ve been out here by now—I’m going to knock.”
    I waited in the car, in case I needed to use my horn again. But Mama made it to the porch without any incident. She knocked on the open door. She called, “Miss Sharp!” After a few moments, she called me. “Simone, come on up. I hear footsteps. Somebody is inside, I’m sure of it.”
    I got out of the car and walked up on the porch, all the while looking cautiously for any approaching canines. Mama knocked again, but still nobody came to the door.
    Then my mother pushed the door open a little bit farther, at least wide enough to be able to look inside. It was dark, the house eerily quiet, the smoke and odor of some recently burned incense seized our nostrils.
    “Miss Sharp,” Mama called again.
    Nothing.
    “There isn’t anybody home,” I told Mama.
    “I heard footsteps,” she insisted, stepping across the threshold.
    “Let’s not go inside,” I said, reaching to pull Mama back onto the porch with me, but only to see her disappear into the dark house.
    After a second I followed her. A few steps inside, I found her, standing motionless in the dark hallway.I grabbed her hand and tightened my grip. “Let’s stay together,” I whispered.
    Mama took a few cautious steps forward, then halted. “Do you have a flashlight in your car?”
    “Yes.”
    “Go get it,” she told me.
    “What about the light switch?” I asked her, puzzled.
    “That was the first thing I tried. The lights didn’t come on.”
    “Come with me,” I said, tugging her hand toward me.
    We stepped back onto the front porch. The peaceful countryside, the silence of the area, had suddenly taken on an ominous feeling. Although the evening was warm, I shivered. I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something—someone—was in that house watching, waiting.
    I ran to my Honda, grabbed the flashlight from the glove compartment, then ran back to Mama.
    Once back on the porch, I handed Mama the light. She slipped inside again, shining the light around the darkness. The first thing we saw was a large black coffee table. We were in the living room. Small plastic bags were stacked on the table.
    “This way,” Mama said, pointing the beam at a door in the back of the room. We left the living room and walked through a small hall. As we went into the kitchen, we heard another sound.
    “Did you hear that?” Mama whispered.
    “Yes,” I said.
    We peered vainly into the stream of the light.
    “Miss