Death Angel

Chapter 16: Answers

Savannah, Georgia was the last place I expected to find myself. Still, in my insatiable quest to find out the truth behind my own murder, the trail I was following had now led me here.

This place, in a way was very similar  to New Orleans. It evoked images of beautiful Victorian homes, against the backdrop of the sprawling Savannah river. Of warm nights sitting outside, the breeze carrying the sweet smell of honeysuckle. A wonderful energy was present in the eighteenth century garden squares and gourmet restaurants, blessing Savannah with a vibrant Southern culture that one couldn’t find anywhere else.

It had not been easy to convince Death to stay behind. “Vanessa, cherie, you are hiding far too many things from moi,” he had said in his half-feigned despondent tone.

“Me? Keep secrets from you? Never, Richard,” I had responded.

In the end, Death sighed and I had my way.

I had taken the opportunity to avail myself of a few amenities this time. I now had a smartphone, which was a godsend. I still could not believe how many days I had lasted without it. 4G was a modern marvel that no person should have to live without.

One of the very first things I did was call Daniel. I explained why I had to disappear suddenly and sincerely apologized for my behavior. I was also smart enough to dangle the carrot in front of him first - I had wanted to make amends. Would he be willing to come to my place for dinner, if I cooked, I had wondered aloud. He took the bait of course, with very little prodding on my part. A home-cooked Italian dinner from yours truly was just the thing Daniel needed to get over his initial disappointment.

With that episode neatly wrapped up, I decided to focus on this other thing. The address that Helen Rutherford gave me was in Savannah’s historic district. I decided to take a road trip from New Orleans to Savannah. Of course, I decided to drive in style, appropriating an black Mercedes SLS AMG for the occasion, the sleek, black curves of the gullwing drew attention to me like no other, but I felt that I was entitled to this, having gone through the things that I had. It was all on Death’s dime of course, which was yet another thing that I enjoyed. If I was going to be dead, I might was well ‘live’ it up.

The home that greeted me was a huge departure from the Rutherford Estate. It was a rather quaint old townhome that was nondescript. The walls were dilapidated, the tiny lawn had been neglected. Weeds and other embarrassing growths had overrun the place. Still, it had it’s own charms. With it’s old world feel, I might even have gone so far to call it quaint, perhaps, but not something that could have been described as luxurious by any stretch. I stood before the dark-green door that greeted me and used the knocker to announce my presence.

The door opened cautiously and ever so slightly. A woman who looked to be in her seventies answered. “We do not take solicitations,” the old woman said.

“I’m not here for that,” I said, smiling at the old lady. “I received your address from Helen Rutherford.”

The woman’s demeanor changed altogether as she heard that. She pulled me into her home, her right hand reaching out to my arm, pulling me insistently into her home. Her hair was graying and her clothes appeared to be from another day and time. Still, despite her dated appearance, I could tell that she worked hard to maintain that appearance.

“Please, allow me to welcome you into my humble home,” the old woman said. “Ah, but perhaps I am forgetting my manners in my old age. My name is Sylvia,” she said.

I nodded. “Sylvia Van Dyke,” I said as I extended my hand to shake hers. “My name is Haley Wellington.”

“And what can I do for you this morning Miss Wellington?”