A Stranger in Wynnedower (13 page)

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Authors: Grace Greene

BOOK: A Stranger in Wynnedower
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She fussed with the
dirty dishes in the sink, rinsing and stacking. She spoke to the dishes. “Yes,
indeed.”

Her back had turned
more squarely toward Rachel, purple paisley and all. Rachel understood the body
language. Yet she persisted, squaring her shoulders as she spoke, feeling the
inappropriateness of such a question to the old woman who cooked for the
family. “Does she ever come back to visit?”

No sound except that of
water rinsing over dishes for a few moments, then Mrs. Sellers spoke in a
muffled voice. “I’m busy now, Miss Sevier. I suggest you take your questions to
Mr. Wynne.”

Word-slapped, and
well-deserved, too.

“I’ll get out of your
way. Nice to meet you.” She left, closing the kitchen door behind her.

It would’ve been easy
to blame David Kilmer for stirring up her curiosity, but this lapse of manners
was all on her.

Propelled by guilt,
Rachel moved swiftly, passing the dining room as one of the doors opened. She
side-stepped to miss it and bounced off Jack as he exited. He caught her with
one muscled arm and slammed the door shut with the other. The movement mimicked
a half-turn in a waltz and left her nearly breathless as she struggled to
regain her footing.

Jack tightened his hold
and laughed. He kept his arms around her for a moment after they’d stopped
moving.

“Steady now?”

“Yes.” She was
breathless. “I’m fine.”

He released her and
stepped back with a slight bow. “Thanks for the dance.”

A brief blankness hit
her, then impulsively she tugged at the hem of her shorts and curtsied.
“Delighted, sir.”

“The pleasure was all
mine.”

Timing is everything,
they say, and hers was usually clumsy in social situations, but it felt perfect
in that moment, here with Jack as their smiles met. Then his eyes shifted away.
She followed his gaze and saw May Sellers in the doorway, her expression
prunish.

Apparently, Mrs.
Sellers disapproved.

Jack extended his
hands. “May, would you care to dance?”

“Hmmph.”

May walked back into
the kitchen, but before she’d fully turned away, Rachel saw her expression
soften.

****

“Hey, Sharon.”

“Rachel? How’s your
vacation?”

“Not much of one.”

“What?”

“Well, I made it to
Richmond. Or rather, outside of Richmond. Far outside. Practically to the
mountains, it feels like with all the hills. But my brother’s not here.”

“What? Why?”

“He’s not here. His
employer said he asked for time off. I presume he’s okay, but he’s not
answering his phone, so–”

“You’re worried, and
it’s no wonder, but if he asked for time off, then he’s gone on a trip or
something. Probably forgot his phone or lost it in those turquoise Caribbean
waters I hear about but never get to see.”

“I’m sure you’re right,
still I’m anxious to hear from him. While I wait, I’m hanging out at his place.
I mean, the place where he was living. I was wondering if we ever get clients
down this way? I’ve been thinking about checking out possibilities down here.
He’s my only family, you know.”

“Are you seriously
considering relocating?”

“I’ve been thinking
about it for a while now, especially sitting here, twiddling my thumbs and
waiting for Jeremy to either come back or call me. A change might be good.” And
that possible change of career she’d hoped for was still in limbo and feeling
less hopeful every day.

“If you’re serious, let
me make some calls, but honestly, I’ve never heard the boss talk about
expanding, certainly not out-of-state.”

“I’ll be down here a
while longer, waiting for Jeremy, but if you come up with something interesting
here or back home, keep me in mind.”

****

The alarm system had to
be very limited due to the condition of the wiring and the sheer size of
Wynnedower.

“It’s not perfect,” the
installer said, “but it will deter intruders and provide some warning.”

He smiled at Rachel,
his eyes earnest. She referred back to their earlier discussion.

“As you said, without
significant infrastructure work, wiring and all that….”

“The motion lights will
help. Let me know when you want to discuss more extensive options.”

Would Jack ever be
willing to discuss more? She shook her head. “We’re talking about protecting
paneling and copper pipes. Mostly, we want to discourage people who might think
the house is abandoned.”

“Sometimes simple
things can count for a lot. For instance, make the premises looked lived-in.
Trim the bushes and so on.” He lowered his voice. “It’s a fascinating place,
but it’s the kind of place you either commit to or not. It was a pleasure
meeting you, Rachel. Call me anytime.”

That evening, she and
Jack tested the motion lights. They were more a psychological deterrent than a
physical one, but it was a start, and Jack was pleased. They began at the east
end and the lights popped on. They walked along the front of the house and past
the front steps where the lights blazed on cue. As they neared the conservatory,
another bank of lights came alive.

“Effective, I think,”
she said, pleased with the glow. They stepped back out of the bright
half-circle. “They burn for about ten minutes.” Down towards the far end of the
house, those lights were already extinguishing.

She turned away and
caught sight of the river far down the slope, dim reflections of moon and
starlight danced on the surface of the water, and the space between was a vast
dark gulf.

“Thanks for taking care
of this. The results look good.”

Rachel faced him. Jack
was highlighted in the thinnest fringe of the security light.

“We can do more,” she
said.

Jack stayed silent.
She’d said the wrong thing or maybe he’d misinterpreted her words. She
continued, “I mean there’s more that can be done to make Wynnedower secure.”

He smiled. “I
understood.”

Speechless for a
moment—what did he mean? He sounded almost insinuating. She pulled her hand
back, shocked to realize it had been resting in the crook of his arm.

“We’d better get back
inside.”

No longer smiling, Jack
asked, “Are you okay?”

So the insinuation had
only been in her mind. She relaxed, but only a bit, and slapped at a fictitious
insect.

“We’d better get back
inside before these mosquitoes get serious.”

****

In the eastern wing of
the house, Jack’s end, at the top of the stairs, she tried the attic door and
found it locked.

Key after key, none
worked. Jack had said to leave the rooms at this end of the house alone, but
he’d said nothing about the attic. When he’d spoken of the furniture in the
attic, he hadn’t mentioned this half at all.

Giving up, she walked
the length of the second floor, back to her end of the house and her stairway
and on up to her side of the attic.

She worked her way down
the first row, lifting the dust covers, getting a look at the furniture and
then making notes on the pad. Climbing into the outer rows of furniture near
the back, she tripped over the leg of something, bounced off a cushioned
chaise, and rolled under a table.

Unhurt, she laughed in
relief. She pulled herself out by way of the same route and from that angle on
the floor she saw a break in the wall. A narrow break running up, across and
down, in the shape of a door. No trim, no hinges, no knob. Only a slide bolt
near the top.

Barely breathing, she
bit her lower lip. Carefully and deliberately, she released the bolt, placed
her hands flat upon the wood and pushed. Nothing.

Not giving up so
easily, she followed the narrow gap in the wood. Down near the floor, she felt
around and found another bolt.

This time when she pushed
the door, it moved, but then she grabbed the pin on the slide bolt like a
handle and pulled the door closed again quickly. It was too dark on the far
side.

She’d never feared the
dark and wasn’t going to start now, but it wasn’t reasonable to walk into a
strange, dark place unnecessarily.

It couldn’t be the
other half of the attic or there would have been some kind of light filtering
in. Some sort of hallway between the two attics? A flashlight would do the
trick.

It was the unknown, the
mystery of it—her personal Pied Piper—that attracted her. She knew it, but
couldn’t help, even though it sometimes led her into trouble.

****

“Daisy?”

“Can you hold a sec?”

Through the receiver,
Rachel heard muffled kitchen sounds. Something loud clattered near Daisy’s end
of the phone. In the distance, on Rachel’s end, she heard a car drive up to the
house. The decreasing volume indicated it had continued on around to the side.

Jack had returned.

A squirrel ran along
the terrace wall. A bird landed atop the cement ball and chirped. The breeze
skittered some dry leaves across the stone floor near her bare toes. Beyond, on
the way to the horizon, the swathe of green lawn gave way to a narrow view of
the water. She’d never experienced such a feeling of patience and satisfaction.

“You there, Rachel?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Sorry. The new guy
was…well, never mind. How are you doing? Any update on Jeremy?”

“I’m fine. Nothing new
about Jeremy.”

“So, how much longer
are you going to wait?”

“I don’t know. I might
as well wait here as in Baltimore. I don’t know what else to do.” She leaned
against the low wall. The bricks were warm from soaking up the sun.

“Maybe you should file
a report to be sure.”

“I spoke with the
police, but other than checking the hospitals, they haven’t done anything that
I know of. I don’t know if they even should. His employer said he requested
time off, plus a co-worker said he was in love.”

“Really? So maybe he
is
with that girl. You don’t think they....” Daisy broke off and coughed. “You
said you spoke with a co-worker?”

“No, a guy who knows
Jeremy. He said the co-worker told him.”

“And he also knows
you?”

“No. We met down here.”

“How’d you find him? Or
did he find you?”

“The guy who told me is
named David Kilmer. He knows the family who owns Wynnedower, and he also knows
Jeremy. I met him in the garden.”

“Is he the gardener?”

“No, he showed up while
I was out there.”

Daisy sounded
frustrated. “I’m confused.”

“No wonder.” Rachel
laughed and strolled down the slope towards the river. “Wait while I move away
from the house. I don’t want anyone to overhear. He and my host don’t get
along, or so he tells me.”

“Who tells you?”

“Kilmer.”

The sweep of the lawn
as it stretched down to the river, though neglected, was breathtaking beneath
the blue sky and the green trees. It was hard to focus on the conversation.

Daisy asked, “You still
there?”

“I am. It’s beautiful
here.”

“What’s that sound in
your voice? Wistfulness?”

“Might as well enjoy it
at while I can. And I am. I have so many ideas for renovating this place, Daisy.
Even if no one else, including Jack, decides to use what I’m developing here,
I’ve discovered where my talents lie, and it’s more than inventory.”

“What? Sorry, my cook
is having some kind of breakdown.”

“Never mind.” She
shaded her eyes as she looked up the hill. “I have to go.”

“What?”

“Here he comes.”

“Who?”

“Jack.”

He was striding down
the hill, arms swinging, then he broke into a half-jog. Not angry, but excited.
Rachel moved toward him. As he came closer, she saw joy on his face. It
transformed him. She picked up her pace.

“Rachel!”

“What is it?”

His arms moved toward
her, and she caught her breath. The force of his personality surrounded her,
and for one crazy moment she thought he intended to hug her.

Without thinking, she
reached forward. Jack caught her hands.

“The phone, Rachel.
Jeremy called the house. He couldn’t get through on your cell number.” He held
out a small piece of paper. “Here’s the number he gave me. He’s waiting for
your call.”

“You’re kidding. He
called the house?” But she wasn’t listening for a response. She was already
dialing the numbers.

Two long scratchy
rings, then his hello.

Jeremy. She wrapped her
fingers tightly around the phone. “Jeremy? Is that you?”

“Yes, Rachel. I’m–are
you–”

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