The Ghosts of Peppernell Manor (11 page)

A
fter dinner that evening Evie and I got to work cleaning out Cora-Camille's spacious closet, which had probably been a small sitting room at one time. Cora-Camille had an astonishing wardrobe, but there were also lots of clothes that had belonged to her late husband, Charles. Evie explained that her grandmother had never been able to bring herself to sort through or get rid of Charles's clothing.

“Why don't you start sorting out Gran's stuff while I work on Granddad's?” Evie suggested.

We talked companionably while we worked until I noticed that Evie had fallen silent. She was staring at one of Charles's suits that she held on her lap.

“Why so quiet?” I asked her.

“I just found this in Granddad's pocket,” she answered, holding out a business card. I took it from her and read it aloud.

“PM Investments. What's that?”

“I don't know. I never heard of it. But that's Harlan's Charleston phone number on there.”

“So what? He's a real estate developer. He probably has thousands of business cards.”

“But there's something weird about this one.”

“What?”

“Harlan lived in Atlanta when Granddad passed away. I remember because he drove up from Atlanta to say good-bye to Granddad the night before he died.”

“So what's the big deal?”

She looked exasperated. “Don't you get it? The only business card I'd expect to find in Granddad's pocket is one from
before
his death. One with Harlan's Atlanta information. This one was printed
after
he died, with Harlan's Charleston information.”

I was beginning to understand. “So you're saying that somehow this card got into Charles's coat pocket after he died?”

“Yes.”

“How is that possible?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, I wouldn't worry about it. I'm sure there's a perfectly sound explanation. Why don't we get back to work sorting these clothes? If we're not done by the time Brad goes back to Chicago, I'll have Lucy every night again and it'll take much longer to finish the job.”

We worked again sorting the clothes, but Evie was pensive, not saying much. When we went to our rooms late that night, we had boxed up almost all the clothes from the closet. Evie had decided to keep some of Cora-Camille's clothing for sentimental reasons, but most of it was going to charities and friends. Ruby had already gone through her mother's things and chosen the belongings she cherished most. Similarly, Graydon had told Evie that there were some of Charles's clothes that he wanted to keep and things that he knew Heath and Harlan wanted to have as a remembrance of their grandfather. Those items were boxed separately and left in Cora-Camille's closet for the time being.

The next morning Evie came down to breakfast early, just as I was finishing my oatmeal.

“I've decided to call Harlan and ask him flat out why this business card was in Granddad's coat pocket.”

“Good. I'm sure that you'll feel better after he's explained the whole thing.”

“Will you talk to him with me?”

I squirmed uncomfortably. I had no desire to be a part of that conversation. “Why do you want me to be there?”

Evie shrugged. “I don't know. I'd just feel better if you were there with me, that's all.”

“What about Heath?”

“I don't want to have to tell Heath about the business card until we find out for sure that there's a logical reason for it being in Granddad's suit.”

I sighed. “Okay, if I must.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Carleigh. It means a lot to me.”

She helped herself to a cup of coffee and said over her shoulder, “I'll give him a call sometime today. I've got a lot of work to do this morning.” She took her coffee and went upstairs. I was glad to see that she was staying busy.

After Evie left I took a break from wallpapering in the dining room to begin work on the second half of the drawing room floor. Once again, the job was hot and dirty and time-consuming, but the results were magnificent. After an entire day of hard work, I was able to sit back on my heels and bask in the floor's shine. I strung tape across the drawing room door so nobody would walk in there, then ran upstairs for a shower before dinner.

When I had showered and changed, I went downstairs to find Evie and Harlan at the dining room table. Evie told me that Ruby and Heath would both be joining us, but that Graydon and Vivian had gone out to dinner with a group of friends.

When the five of us were seated around the table, talk centered upon the weather and how happy Lucy would be to see us at the end of her week with Brad. Ruby described a dessert she wanted to try making, which was great because she hadn't baked anything sweet since Cora-Camille had passed away. Besides being happy for her and pleased that she was getting back into her old hobby, I was thrilled that we would be having dessert again!

After dinner, Ruby went upstairs and Heath disappeared to the carriage house, waving to me as he walked out the door. I watched his long back retreating, thinking
I really like him,
then joined Evie and Harlan in the kitchen.

Once we were seated in the chairs flanking the long table, Evie cleared her throat.

“Um, Harlan, I'm glad you came over for dinner tonight because I wanted to ask you about something.”

He smiled at her. “What is it?”

She intertwined her fingers several times and cleared her throat again before speaking. It seemed strange to see Evie act nervously.

“It's just that I found a business card with your phone number on it.”

“Okay. So what?” Harlan asked.

“It was in one of Granddad's suits.”

He shifted in his chair. “How did you find it?”

“Carleigh and I were going through the things in Gran's closet last night and there were lots of clothes that belonged to Granddad in there. I reached into one of the pockets to make sure there was nothing in it and I found the card.”

He nodded slowly, turning a shade paler and saying nothing.

“Harlan? Say something. I don't understand how that card got in there if you didn't have that phone number until after Granddad died.”

Harlan sat forward in his chair, his elbows on the table, his head resting in his hands. He looked up at Evie. “I didn't mean for anything to happen,” he whispered.

“What are you talking about?” Evie had an uneasy edge to her voice.

“I wore that suit the night Gran died. I snuck into her bedroom wearing it.”

“Why?” asked Evie shrilly.

“I wanted her to think I was Granddad. I wanted to tell her that I—Granddad—still loved her and I was waiting for her on the other side.”

“And?”

“And nothing. I happened to have one of those cards in my hand and I shoved it in the pocket. I forgot about it. The thing is, my idea backfired. I think I scared her. I didn't mean to . . . I only wanted to comfort her.”

“You think you scared her?” Evie asked incredulously. “You
think
you scared her? Her heart gave out! She's dead now!”

“Evie, please don't say it like that.”

“Why not? That's what happened! She was literally scared to death!”

“But you make it sound like it was my fault.”

“It
was
your fault!” Evie was yelling now.

“Please Evie, be quiet! Don't be so upset. Please don't tell anyone what I did. I never meant to scare her!”

“What is PM Investments? That's not the name of your firm.”

“It stands for Peppernell Manor Investments. It's the company I set up to help get the funding to restore this house,” he said quietly.

“Just go home,” she stated.

“Let me—”

“No. Just go.”

Harlan stood up slowly and walked over to Evie's chair. She didn't look at him. He placed his hand on her shoulder; she brushed it away. He looked at me sadly, as if in a silent plea for understanding. I didn't know what to do.

After he left, Evie sat in silence for several minutes, blinking back tears. I said nothing, just waiting for her to talk.

“My brother killed my grandmother,” she said dully. Then, with an uncharacteristic vehemence, “I hate him! How could he do this?”

I didn't know what to say. She wiped her eyes.

“What do you think I should do?” she asked beseechingly.

“About what?”

“Should I tell anyone what he said, or should we keep it between us?”

“I can't really help you with that. I think you need to make that decision yourself.”

“What would you do?”

“I honestly don't know. If you tell people what you know, Harlan will be devastated, and so will everyone else. If you keep it a secret, it may eat you alive. Plus you and Harlan will have to pretend this conversation never took place. It's a lose-lose.”

Evie buried her head in her hands, just like Harlan had done just a few minutes before. Her voice was husky when she spoke. “I wish I had never seen that business card.”

She looked at me with reddened eyes and then spoke tentatively. “Carleigh, do you think he's telling the truth?”

That was the question I hoped she wouldn't ask. “It's a strange story, no doubt, but there's nothing to suggest that he's lying.”

“But why would he have the card with him when he went in to talk to her?”

“Maybe he just had it in his hand absentmindedly. It's entirely possible that he really did put that card in the pocket innocently and then forgot about it.”

“Hmmm.”

“Evie, I'm sorry, but I really need to call Lucy. She waits for my call each night, and it's almost her bedtime. I can come back in to talk some more after I'm off the phone.”

She shook her head, sniffling. “No, that's okay. I'm going to bed. I think that before I make any decision about Harlan, I'll just sleep on it and see how I feel in the morning.”

I hugged her and left. It was a welcome change to hear Lucy's high-pitched voice on the phone, explaining all she and Brad had done that afternoon and evening. Another trip to the park, chicken fingers and mashed potatoes at a restaurant for dinner, a walk, and a game. It sounded like she was enjoying her time with Brad, which made me happy—and jealous, if I was being honest with myself. Luckily, she only had a couple more days and I would get her back at Peppernell Manor.

It was a quiet evening. I read a book and fell asleep early. The next morning I got back to work on the dining room wallpaper. The job was progressing well and I spent most of the day on it. Then I moved all the furniture back to where it belonged in the drawing room and took the “after” pictures for the portfolio I made for all my clients. It was exciting for them and for me to see the before and after shots of the rooms I restored.

That evening as the dusk gathered I went for a walk by myself over to the slave cabins. I wandered slowly among them, poking my head in each doorway to gaze at the places where people lived so long ago in poverty and unhappiness. In the semidarkness I was surprised to find Phyllis sitting in the doorway of the last cabin. She waved a hand to indicate that I should sit down next to her. We sat together in silence for several moments until Phyllis said, “Why did you come out here tonight?”

“I was out for a walk and I wanted to see the cabins again.”

“Why?”

I didn't really have an answer for that, but I tried to put some of my thoughts into words. “I feel almost guilty looking in the cabins, like I'm invading someone's privacy. But I'm fascinated by them. I love learning about history, and these cabins are a place where history happened to everyday people. They probably didn't even know it. They were just living here, trying to survive the conditions and the violence and the exhaustion and the sadness. I just try to imagine it.”

“Sarah was here before you got here.”

“What did she have to say?”

“She hates this place. It holds very few good memories for her. And for my ancestors. My family. They didn't care about making history. They cared about surviving to raise their babies and live until the next day. They cared about having no place to go when they were finally freed.”

“But you told me she has some good memories, too.”

“She does,” Phyllis acknowledged. “But you can't really compare the few good ones against all the bad ones.”

“I know Sarah doesn't approve, but I'd love to talk to Graydon about restoring these old cabins to the way they used to be.”

“Sarah and I
both
think that's a bad idea. Why show people the way the slaves used to live? What good would that do?”

“People would be able to see up close how terrible the living conditions were for the slaves who lived and worked on the plantations. We could even make it interactive to make the experience more real for visitors. It could be very powerful for people, especially children, to learn about slavery that way.”

Phyllis shook her head. “I've told you. Sarah would not appreciate a bunch of people—tourists—coming through here poking their noses where they're not welcome. I don't care what they would learn.” She got up and walked away toward her apartment.

I wasn't getting anywhere with Phyllis. She was dead-set against the restoration of the slave cabins, especially since Sarah apparently refused to give her blessing to the idea. I decided to take up the subject with Graydon. I returned to the house slowly, lost in thought.