ScandalandSin (15 page)

“Yeah, I’m fine. I…got too hot, I guess.”

He squatted before her and peered into her
face. “Your face would be red if you got too hot. You’re white, as if you saw a
ghost.”

She almost laughed at his choice of words.
“I just need a break from the sanding.”

“Good timing then, ‘cause Bella Olinghouse
is here to see you.”

Alaina frowned. She didn’t have a clue why
Bella would be here. “Did she say why?”

Dax shook his head. “Nope. Just that she
had something for you.” He stood and held out a hand to help her stand.
Luckily, her legs didn’t buckle this time. She must’ve still looked like hell,
for Dax’s concerned expression didn’t disappear.

“Maybe you should stay downstairs for a
while and cool off.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that, after I talk to
Bella.”

“I’ll go down the stairs first, in case I
have to catch you.”

She almost said her legs weren’t
that
weak, but decided Dax going first might not be a bad idea.

Alaina found Bella Olinghouse standing in
the foyer. Despite the warmth of the day and the dirt flying everywhere, she
looked cool and perfect in an ice blue suit. She held what looked like a
leather scrapbook. “Good morning, Mrs. Olinghouse.”

She inclined her head an inch. “Ms. May.”

“How can I help you?”

Bella lifted the scrapbook. “I have
something to show you. Is there a place where we can sit down?”

“Yes, we have a table and folding chairs
set up in the dining room.”

She led the way to the dining room, which
thankfully looked clean. The guys were usually good about picking up after
themselves. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you. I won’t be here long.”

Bella looked at the chair seat, which
didn’t surprise Alaina. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the woman took a
snowy handkerchief out of her little blue purse that matched her suit and wiped
off the seat.

Once Bella sat, Alaina took the chair
opposite her. Bella set the book on the table and pushed it toward Alaina. “My
granddaughter put this together several years ago. It contains some old
pictures of this house. I thought you might like to look at them while you’re
remodeling.”

Speechless at Bella’s generosity, Alaina
didn’t know what to say for a few seconds. “That’s very kind of you. Thank
you.”

“I would like to have the book back when
you’re finished with it.”

“Of course.” She lifted the cover and
gasped. The first picture in the book filled the entire page and had been taken
of the front of the house. A small caption in the right corner said
1902
.
“This is wonderful.”

“They’re all black and white, of course,
and some are very grainy. There aren’t very many. People didn’t take pictures
back then the way they do now. But they’ll give you an idea of how the house
looked when it was first built.” She glanced around the room, sadness in her
eyes. “It was a wonderful place to grow up. My mother made sure everything was
always spotless.” She released a small laugh that held no humor. “Of course, my
father would not have had it any other way.” She looked down a moment and
straightened the top button of her suit. “You may keep the book as long as
you’d like.”

“I appreciate that.”

Bella cleared her throat. “I have other
errands to run.”

“Of course.”

Alaina closed the book and followed Bella
to the front door. Rye walked through the same time they reached the entrance.
“Mrs. Olinghouse. Hello.”

“Mr. Coleman.”

He looked from her to Alaina and back
again. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine. I brought something to
Ms. May I thought might help her. Now I really must leave. Charles is waiting
for me.”

“Have a wonderful evening, Mrs.
Olinghouse,” Alaina said. “And thank you again.”

Alaina watched a man in his sixties hurry
forward to guide Bella down the rickety steps. He held her arm to the car and
helped her into the backseat. “I gather that’s Charles.”

“He’s her driver and has been for years.”
Rye turned his attention from Bella to Alaina. “What did she bring to you?”

“A scrapbook. Oh, Rye, you have to see it.
It has pictures of this house when it was new. They’re all black and white so
there’s no help with colors, but I know Dax will help me with those.”

“Speaking of Dax, he told me you looked
like you were about to pass out in the turret.”

She hadn’t decided whether or not to say
anything to Rye about her vision, so thought it would be better to gloss over
her weakness. “Dax exaggerates. I just got a little too hot. I’m fine.”

“To be sure you stay fine, why don’t you
take a break and have something cold to drink?”

“Can you join me and look at Bella’s
scrapbook?”

He glanced at his watch. “I’m supposed to
meet Griff at the mayor’s house in fifteen minutes. I’ll look at it with you
tonight, okay?” He ran his fingers up and down her arm. “Rest a while. I’ll be
back later and take you out to supper.”

“Okay.”

Eager to study the prize Bella had brought
her, Alaina hurried back to the dining room. Preparing a tall glass of iced
tea, she sat at the table and opened the book again.

It was an older scrapbook with the kind of
adhesive pages that stuck to the pictures. Alaina wondered if Bella would let
her take the book apart, copy the pictures, and then put them back in a more
modern scrapbook without the adhesive pages. She carefully turned the page to
see more pictures of the outside of the house, both front and back. A young
girl, maybe eleven, stood next to a boy about seven or eight years old in the
next picture. Writing beneath the picture said,
Bella and Patrick, July 4,
1932.

Alaina slowly turned the pages as she
sipped her tea. She assumed Bella’s granddaughter had carefully written beneath
each picture. Most of the pictures were of Bella and Patrick. One taken in the
kitchen with Bella and her mother—according to the caption—clearly showed the
cabinets and sink area. Emma would freak when she saw the picture.

She turned another few pages before a blank
spot jumped out at her. A picture had been removed, the caption beneath covered
with Liquid Paper. The white ink looked cracked, as if it had been used a while
ago.

Curiosity gnawed at her. She couldn’t help
wondering what picture had been removed, and what the caption said. She
carefully pulled back the adhesive sheet. She hesitated, knowing she was
invading Bella’s privacy. There was a reason someone had removed a picture and
covered the caption. Alaina felt as if there was a devil on one shoulder and an
angel on the other, one saying to go for it and the other saying she shouldn’t.

The devil won.

Using her thumbnail, she lightly scratched
at the white ink from left to right until it began to crumble. Letters slowly
appeared. Once all the ink had been removed, Alaina brushed it aside and read
the caption.

Patrick and his tutor, Laura Cummins,
April 1937.

Chills raced up and down her spine. The
missing picture had been taken a few days before Laura had been murdered in
this house. Someone had removed it from the album and covered up the caption so
no one could read it.
Who?
Alaina wondered.
Bella? Or someone else?

She looked up at the ceiling and thought
about the vision she’d seen earlier. Even though she knew the thought was
crazy, she wondered if that had been Laura’s ghost trying to communicate with
her. She wished the vision had been clearer, that she could’ve made out more of
the features. Then she’d know if Laura’s ghost actually existed in the turret.

The only way for her to know for sure was
to keep working in that area. She didn’t have time today since Rye would return
soon and they’d leave. First thing in the morning, she’d go back to the turret
to work. Perhaps Laura—or whomever—would decide to pay her another visit.

Chapter Twelve

April 23, 1937

Laura wouldn’t answer me when I asked
how her tutoring session went with Patrick today. She mumbled something that sounded
like “fine” and hurried to our bedroom. I almost followed her, but stopped when
she closed the door. It wasn’t like Laura to shut me out like that. Something
is obviously bothering her.

I tried to talk to her after supper
while we were doing the dishes. She insisted nothing was wrong. I know better.
Something happened today, something that had nothing to do with Patrick’s
tutoring.

* * * * *

Alaina looked over her shoulder for what
must have been the twentieth time since she’d started sanding on the window
seat two hours ago. There’d been no visions, no cold air flowing over her, no
sign at all of a ghostly figure.

She’d almost told Rye what she’d seen while
they lay in his bed after making love last night. After debating with herself
for several minutes, she’d decided not to say anything. The whole idea of
seeing a ghost sounded crazy to her. She knew Rye would feel the same way. He’d
already told her he’d never heard any stories of people seeing a ghost in
Stevens House.

Their relationship was so new and fragile.
She didn’t want to do anything to mess it up.

Footsteps drew her attention back to the
present. Rye came in the room, followed by a forty-something dark-haired man.
Alaina laid down her sanding tool and stood.

“Alaina, this is Vince Seago. He’s my
glazer. Now that he’s through at the mayor’s house, he can take the
measurements to make your new windows.”

Vince smiled. “It’s nice to meet you,
Alaina.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

“I’ll show Vince around up here, then we’ll
move through the rest of the house. We’ll be out of your way in a few minutes.”

“No problem. I’m ready for a break anyway.”

Rye ran his hand over the area she’d just
sanded. “Nice. You’re doing a really good job, Alaina.”

His praise meant a lot to her. “Thanks.”

Rye winked, then turned his attention back
to Vince.

Picking up her bottle of water, Alaina
stepped outside the turret and into the hallway. Jerry, Reuben and Rory had
started putting up the two-by-fours yesterday to mark where the new rooms would
be. It would be a while longer before any sheetrock went up, but she now had a
better idea of the size of the rooms.

There was months of work to do, yet with
each day that passed, she came closer to achieving her dream.

Alaina sat down and leaned against the
wall. She lifted the bottle to her lips for a drink when cold air washed over
her. She quickly swallowed before she choked. Gaze darting around the area, she
stood and looked in every corner for a sign of the vision she’d seen yesterday.

Rye and Vince came out of the turret. Rye
gave her another wink as they passed. She tried to look as normal as possible
so she wouldn’t draw his suspicion, although everything inside her tightened in
anticipation of seeing the ghost.

Once the men had left the area, Alaina
searched again for the vision. It began to form at the entrance to the turret.

Alaina stood still, barely breathing. The
image was transparent, as yesterday, but with more shape. She could make out
the short-sleeved blue dress and buckle shoes. Facial features slowly filled
in—eyes, nose, mouth, chin. Once the brown hair appeared, Alaina had no doubt
who stood before her.

Laura Cummins.

“Do you want something from me?” Alaina
whispered.

The expression on Laura’s face seemed to be
a combination of pleasure and pain. Eyes closed, she clenched her fists in
front of her chest. Alaina didn’t know if Laura didn’t want to appear, or was
fighting like hell
to
appear.

“Can I help you?”

Laura opened her eyes. She stared at her
hands as she slowly unclenched her fists, almost as if she couldn’t believe she
could see them. Alaina took a step closer to her. “Is there something I can do
for you?”

Laura looked at Alaina. She opened her
mouth, but no sound emerged. Frowning, she opened her mouth again as if to
speak. Nothing.

“It’s okay,” Alaina said. “You don’t have
to speak for me to help you. What can I do?”

Motioning for Alaina to follow her, Laura
glided into the turret. Alaina swallowed hard, then did as Laura requested. The
vision stopped in front of the window seat, at a section Alaina hadn’t sanded
yet. She pointed to the seat.

“You want me to sit down?”

Still frowning, Laura shook her head. She
held up her hands about twelve inches apart, then widened them to eighteen
inches apart and pointed to the seat again.

“Is there something inside the window
seat?”

Laura nodded vigorously. Alaina had already
checked inside the seats and hadn’t found anything except a lot of dirt and
animal droppings. She didn’t want to think about what kind of animals had left
their mark. “I’ve looked in the seats and didn’t find anything.”