Traces (22 page)

“Hey, Meredith, can you talk?”

“Um, yeah, I’ve got a minute.”

“I’ll keep this brief. Would you care to join me for dinner after the concert tomorrow night?

“I, uh…Over here, right about there. No, a little to the left. That’s it. Um, sorry, Max, what were you saying?”

“What’s going on?” Max stilled the pen, intent on hearing the scraping and shuffling in the background on Meredith’s end.

“Just a little investigative demolition, nothing to worry about.”

“Damn it, Meredith, we talked about this.” Max cringed. “You’re not already taking Twin Oaks apart, are you? Please, Meredith, reconsider this line of action. We can find another way.”

“I’m merely trying to solve a little mystery. Nobody will ever know. Dinner tomorrow would be okay, I guess. We can talk about the Register and what you’re doing about it.”

That would be a very short conversation. He’d done nothing about removing the house from the Register because in the long run it made no difference. If Meredith wanted to destroy the house, she had the legal right to do so. At least for another ten days or so. But he hoped to help her see how immoral such an act would be. How taking it apart would not put her life back together again. Either way, time was draining away faster than he liked, and he had to do something to try to plug the drain.

“Fine. Meet me in the music room after the concert, and we’ll go try the new steak house—the one with the deck overlooking the river.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” Her voice grew distant, and right before the line went dead, Max heard her say, “You could cut there…”

* * * *

“Why does it matter so much to you?” Brock walked up to stand beside Meredith. He peered at her. “You’re shivering. Are you cold?”

“A little. But I have to know.” She slipped her phone back into her pocket, choosing to put off contemplating Max’s motives for asking her on a date.
A real date
. And she’d accepted without thinking, without considering being alone with the man. Her resolve must have tripped, but she could do something about that. “I can’t explain, but I know there’s something relevant inside.”

“Come here.” Brock wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug. “You’re chilled. Let me help you go inside where it’s warm.”

She shrugged him off and shook her head. “Please, Dad.”

He gazed at her a long moment, and then slowly nodded. “One small hole, that’s all I’m agreeing to do.”

Without another word he sauntered in his loose-hipped way down the steps and to his vehicle, where he retrieved his jigsaw and attached the battery pack. Before long he had the thin blade ready to pierce the exterior skin of the column. Meredith stood to one side, trying to quell the shivers racing through her. The whir of the small engine obliterated the sounds of the birds and the insects as the saw bit into the wood. Once the rectangular hole was outlined, Brock stopped the blade. The sudden silence shocked her ears. Her father laid down the saw and carefully pried the inset out of the column.

He peered inside. “There’s something in there all right.” He waved her closer.

Meredith approached cautiously and leaned down to look into the hole. Though dimly lit by the incision, she made out the glint of what appeared to be very tarnished silver and a pile of dusty blue fabric. The same vibrant though dirty color as the dress worn by the Lady in Blue. She inhaled and nearly vomited when she smelled the sweet scent of honeysuckle and roses.

“No.” It couldn’t be. The terror a person would have endured in such a place made dark spots form before her eyes. No way could this happen. Could it? She placed a hand against the column to steady her quaking knees while tears streamed down her face. “It’s Grace. It has to be. But how did she end up in there?”

Gravel pinged the exterior of Max’s truck as he steered the vehicle into the driveway of Twin Oaks. Slowing to avoid any more damage to the paint, he tapped a staccato rhythm on the steering wheel. Meredith’s voice had quavered and then steadied when she’d phoned him several minutes after he’d invited her to dinner. The mystery she’d been working to solve apparently involved bones and a dress and a silver tea service. In one of the impressive columns standing sentry for generations. She’d wanted to know what they should do, and he’d told her to leave everything in place. He’d made a call to the county sheriff and the medical examiner’s office to relay the findings. The officials should be arriving shortly to collect the remains.

He parked beside a steel-gray Lincoln Navigator, a beautiful piece of machinery that made his mouth drool. He darted a glance back at his own F-150 XLT, fully decked out but not nearly as elegant as the SUV. Maybe when he made senior partner, he’d trade in his pick-’em-up truck for something more refined. But he liked his truck. He hurried to the back door. He knocked on the doorjamb, avoiding the door itself since he had forgotten to locate the hardware needed to repair the frame. But he’d tackle the job first thing Monday.

He knocked a second time and then let himself in. “Hello?”

Footsteps hurried down the hall toward him. He crossed the kitchen, reaching the door as Meredith pushed through it.

“Max.” Meredith’s expression danced before him, her eyes alive in a way he’d not seen before. Their intensity drew him in; he could gaze into them forever. “Can you believe it?”

“It does stretch the imagination.” Her beauty stretched his credulity as well. He heard his heartbeat in his ears, pulsing like the rush of a river heading toward a falls. Her lightly freckled cheeks glowed with excitement, eyes animated, lips perfectly shaped for kissing. So he did.

When his lips met hers, she didn’t protest. Her eyes closed for a moment before flying open. He didn’t end the press of their lips for another heartbeat. When he did, a flick of her tongue moistened her lips, first upper, then lower. He smiled, a deep sense of peace emerging inside. “I needed you.”

“Max…”

He stopped her words with a finger laid to her mouth. “Hold that thought. Now you have a hint of what I plan for later. So tell me, what’s this about a body?”

“Remains, definitely. Looks like human bones to me. Especially since there’s a dress. And jewelry, I think.” She gripped his arms and stared at him with wide eyes. “Oh my goodness, it’s the blue dress both Paulette and I have seen in our dreams since we were kids. How? What’s going on?”

“That’s what I’m here to help figure out, sweetheart.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I’m with you every step until we know who it is who ended up buried alive in that place.”

“It’s so Poe-like, isn’t it?” She shuddered. “How dreadful for the poor woman. I can’t bear to think what she went through.”

“Don’t torture yourself, Meredith.” He lifted her chin with one finger. “The sheriff and the ME are on their way. They’ll help us sort this out.”

“Come on, everyone’s in the main parlor.”

“Everyone?” Max followed dumbly. Stunned first by the vibrant beauty leading him through the hallways to the front right of the house and then again by the intensity of the kiss they’d shared. Voices drifted down the hall toward them. Who, exactly, was everyone? Meg. Paulette. Sean, perhaps? Who else? Meredith’s luscious hips swinging in front of him with each step distracted him momentarily. What was that country song? The “Badonkadonk”? Fit her motion perfectly. They stopped, and he glanced into the parlor.

She paused at the doorway. “Hey, look who finally deigned to honor us with his presence.”

Her family sat chatting among themselves until they noticed Max behind Meredith. They stared at the pair for a moment before Brock stood and crossed the room to shake hands. “Max, how have you been?”

“Good, good.” Max returned the greeting, feeling the strength of the hand gripping his own and glad he’d been exercising his fingers on the keyboards. Otherwise, his handshake would have crippled him.

“Max called the authorities.” Meredith moved into the room and perched on one of the matching flowered settees positioned to face each other. “They should arrive soon. What do we tell them?”

“We’ll show them what we found.” Brock resumed his seat in one flanking overstuffed wingback chair, waving a hand at an identical chair across from him. “Max, have a seat.”

Max sank onto the chair. “Right, and the ME will collect the remains.”

Meredith looked shocked. “What? Why?”

“They have to verify no crime has been committed and the remains aren’t Native American.” Max rubbed his hands on his pant legs.

“But we know who was buried alive in that awful place.” Meredith glanced at Paulette. “Don’t we?”

Paulette shrugged. “No, we don’t know for certain.” She shivered. “I can’t even let myself contemplate dying in such a way.”

“What all did you find in there?” Max asked, relaxing back against the chair and crossing one ankle over his knee. He looked at Meredith. “What makes you believe it’s Grace?”

“The blue dress, mainly.” Meredith twined her fingers together and shoved her hands between her knees as she darted a glance at Paulette. “And the honeysuckle.”

“Honeysuckle?” Max asked.

Meredith chuckled. “It will sound nuts to you all, I’m sure.” She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I read that Grandpa Joe sent her perfume with rose and honeysuckle essence in it. If she was buried alive in the column, and thus has been haunting Twin Oaks ever since, it would explain why I smell honeysuckle so often. Wouldn’t it?”

Max blinked and sat up straight. “Haunted? You think Twin Oaks is haunted?”

Meredith nodded, her strawberry-blonde hair flowing around her excited eyes, dancing against her chin. “It explains everything. Seeing her ghost. Smelling her perfume. The inexplicable desire to go to the front porch, right where her bones waited to be discovered.”

“But, Meredith, you can’t believe in ghosts.” Brock stood up and slowly paced across the oriental carpet boasting bold reds, blues, and golds. “Nobody believes in spirits these days.”

“That’s not true, Dad.” Meredith rose and caught hold of her father’s arm, bringing him to a standstill. “Lots of folks believe in them, including me. There are many unexplained phenomena in this world.”

Brock patted Meredith’s hand resting on his arm. “If it makes you feel better, honey, then believe what you will.”

Did ghosts exist? Many times in his own life, Max had experienced an unexplainable occurrence. The feeling of being watched. An inexplicable coincidence. Motion caught out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned, he saw nothing unusual or that could explain what he had imagined. Objects seemingly relocating themselves when he wasn’t looking. But ghosts? Gremlins? Borrowers? Or simply a faulty memory?

Meredith shook her head and laughed. “You don’t have to agree with me, Dad, but I do firmly believe the dress in the column belongs to Grace and that she wanted me to find her. But what I don’t understand is how she ended up in the bottom of it with Grandpa Joe’s missing silver tea service tied to her waist with ropes.”

“You didn’t tell me about the ropes.” Max ran a hand over his chin. “We all know people hid their valuables during the war to protect them from the Yankees coming through…”

“You think she was trying to protect the silver?” Paulette asked.

“Most likely. The Yankees encamped on the front lawn in 1862 en route to capture Huntsville.” Max tapped his fingers on the armrest.

“But she couldn’t have lowered herself into the column,” Dina said. “She’d need help.”

Meredith sprang to her feet, snapping her fingers and drawing everyone’s attention. “Edith.”

“Wonder if Anson helped as well?” Paulette jumped up beside Meredith.

“Oh! What if the future husband and wife convinced Grace to deposit the silver in the column for safekeeping and then left her there?” Meredith mused.

“Dropped her?” Paulette said, horror lacing her voice.

“Even if the rope merely slipped from their grasp,” Meredith said, “if it were a crime of opportunity and not premeditated, they would still be guilty of abandoning her to a dreadful fate.”

“Whoa. Slow down.” Brock ran a hand through his graying hair. “How would they expect to retrieve the silver once it was at the bottom?”

“The same way we did. Cut it open.” Meredith roamed the room, mentally counting her steps from end to end of the carpet and back again.

“It seems so drastic.” Dina stood and laid a hand on Meredith’s arm, stopping her daughter’s pacing. “I can’t imagine being desperate enough to resort to such measures.”

“I know; it gives me the willies to contemplate.” Paulette shuddered to prove her point.

“People were desperate during the war.” Max scanned the faces gazing at him expectantly. “Everything the Rebels believed in, worked for, and then fought for was at stake. So many died fighting their own family, it’s hard to fathom.”

A knock on the front door interrupted Max’s explanation. As Meredith hurried to answer the summons, Max noted the others in the room had fallen silent, waiting. Perhaps worrying about what all of this meant to them. To the future of Twin Oaks. Had Mrs. O’Connell known about the ghost? She’d never mentioned it to him, if so. Would he have believed her, or thought her nutso? What of Meredith?

* * * *

After the sheriff and ME left with the skeleton and clothing, including pale blue silk slippers, Meredith hunched in a folding chair, elbows on knees, and stared at the enlarged hole in the column. They’d been forced to widen and deepen the opening in order to remove everything. Meg had carted the tea service to the kitchen to polish it. The authorities allowed the silver to remain at Twin Oaks, since even if a crime had occurred, based on the style of the dress and the maker’s imprint on the silver service, it had occurred so long ago the perpetrators had also died by now.

Poor, poor Grace. Stuck in a vertical tomb, in the dark, alone. Left to die by her sister and the man they both loved. Or at least, that’s the story that made the most sense. The worst part of the situation was nobody would ever really know what caused Grace to be trusting enough to venture into the column. What might Edith have told her to convince her to be lowered into such a dark place? Especially with the “manipulations” of Anson Grace had commented upon to Grandpa Joe.