The Secrets of Rosa Lee (19 page)

Lora didn't like the images that came to mind. “Or maybe—” she tried to find another reason “—Henry locked the master bedroom when his wife died because he loved her so much and he never wanted anyone to go in there.”

Before Billy had time to consider her theory, she asked, “What else?”

“With one exception, the floor is most worn in the third bedroom, further confirming that was Rosa Lee's room. If I were guessing, I'd say it was her room all her life.”

“Not a very impressive room for such a big house. You'd think, once she was living here all alone, she'd have spread her stuff out.”

“Maybe that was the way she lived. It might also explain why she never answered the door.” Billy blinked the flashlight along the baseboards. “I doubt she could have heard anyone from this far back in the house.”

Lora walked out of the room and noticed Billy took the
time to close Rosa Lee's bedroom door. “You said ‘with one exception'?”

He walked back to the master. “The light's bad in here with no way to open the shutters from the inside, but I couldn't help seeing this.” He pointed his beam of light in front of the windows. On the floorboards, a long, three-foot-wide row from wall to wall was so worn, it looked as if it had been sanded.

“What could have made that?”

“I don't know. Maybe Rosa Lee walked the floor over the loss of her man.”

Lora didn't like that image of Rosa Lee. Had she really been such a weak person to allow her father to run—no, to ruin—her life? She suddenly realized she'd allowed her parents to do the same thing. They'd always been crazy about Dan, even offered to help set him up in an office as soon as he married their only daughter. When Lora had voted for waiting a few years, she'd lost three-to-one and been idiot enough at twenty to think someone else could vote in her life. Isadore had been the one who had insisted on a huge wedding, inviting everyone in town. They hadn't used a chisel to mold her the way they wanted in what they saw as the perfect life, they'd used sand, one grain at a time. And the crime in it all was that she'd let them.

“Lora, you all right?” Billy moved closer, his hand resting on her shoulder. “Not lost in one of your fantasies are you?”

She smiled. “No, in reality this time. It's far more frightening.”

“Let's get out of here.” He slid his hand down her arm to her fingers.

“What next, the attic, or the basement?”

Before he could answer, they heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

“We're here!” someone sounding very much like one of the Rogers sisters shouted. “Did we miss anything?”

Lora crossed to the landing as the sisters reached the top of the stairs. Ada May carried a flashlight and her sister held a cane like a weapon. They both looked windblown.

Ada May clicked the flashlight on and off. “Any critters up here?”

“One dead cockroach,” Billy answered. “But you can check him if you like. He may have only been playing possum.”

Beth Ann leaned against the banister. “We've been all over the garden. You wouldn't believe the variety of roses we've found. But her favorite was definitely a Portland Rose called the Marbree. They've been planted in several spots.”

Everyone turned to explore the house, but Beth Ann kept chattering. “If we decide to have the city sell this land, Ada May and I will take more clippings. The sheriff and oil company might even let us move some of the plants. Ada May has started a list of places who could adopt plants but we'll need to check the soil before we move them.”

Ada May shook with cold and talked over her sister as if Beth Ann were no more than a radio. “We just came in because it's starting to rain. Another hour and the trails out back will be rivers of mud.”

As if on cue, thunder rumbled above them. A shutter somewhere flapped against the house, adding a tapping sound.

“I guess the attic is out,” Billy said. “From the water on the second floor, the roof must have several holes.”

“How about the basement?”

He looked at the Rogers sisters. “You two willing?”

They both nodded. Within five minutes they were all shivering in the damp basement. The rain was pouring
down, splattering against cracked windows lining the top of the basement walls. Beth Ann refused to take the last step down to the dirt floor. She seemed positive she saw movement on the floor too big to be cockroaches.

Billy made a circle with his flashlight. He didn't catch anything in the beam, but he also felt movements just beyond the light. The basement had been used mostly for storage. The frame of an old-fashioned drying rack ran along one wall, a pressing machine lay on its side in one corner. Behind the stairs were stacks of old newspaper tied with twine.

“Snakes?” Beth Ann whispered.

Ada May jumped, almost tumbling into her sister. “Stop that,” she shouted when she realized it was a false alarm. “You're scaring the willies out of me.”

Billy leaned near Lora's ear. “How many willies you think she's got in her?”

Lora poked him, but laughed.

He acted as if he'd been hurt. “Pain always seems to factor into our conversations, Whitman. You really should have that temper of yours listed as a weapon.”

Beth Ann lowered her foot to the floor, but kept her death grip on the railing. “What could be down here?”

“We're about to find out.” Billy headed toward one corner. Slowly, the women joined in the search.

Lora fought the urge to follow behind Billy. She heard the Rogers sisters arguing about where to look. In truth, there wasn't much to explore. The remains of an old furnace took up most of the center space. A collection of years of bug traps were scattered along the back wall. Long boards were stacked neatly against another.

“Nothing,” Lora sighed after twenty minutes of examining corners. The thunder and lightning gnawed at her nerves and, with the onset of evening, the basement shad
ows turned from gray to black. The sudden flashes across the broken windows in the basement made the damp air seem full of electricity.

Beth Ann took a few steps up the stairs. “We might as well forget about the basement. It's almost time to start supper.” She glanced at Lora and Billy. “You two want to come home with us for meat loaf? We cooked enough for an army hoping you might come.”

Before Lora could answer, Billy yelled. Everyone froze.

“I found something.” He crawled from under the stairs carrying a long tube as if it were a sword. “It was stuffed on the back ledge of one of the steps.”

Everyone gathered round as Billy pulled out the paper rolled inside the tube. As he held it up to the light, a poster was slowly revealed. The same rodeo poster Lora had shown the group.

“I don't believe it,” she whispered as she leaned against his shoulder for a better look. “It's the same one that has Fuller Crane listed as one of the riders.”

Billy passed the treasure to the Rogers sisters. “I guess that confirms it,” he shrugged. “Our Rosa Lee and Fuller must have been an item.”

Lora sat down on the steps. “But what happened and why would she hide the poster away?”

“Maybe these will explain it,” Billy whispered as he lifted a small stack of letters tied together with ribbon.

“Explain what?” Sidney shouted down from the opening above.

Everyone jumped, then relaxed as they recognized the voice. Lora watched as the professor moved slowly down the stairs. A tall man followed her.

“Sorry to have startled you, but I got your message and came right over as soon as I could.” Sidney pointed
upward. “This is Sloan McCormick. He drove me to Wichita Falls today to talk to a woman who visited Rosa Lee.”

Lora studied the man. He looked about forty, tall, broad shouldered and looking as if he'd been born in a Stetson. She was puzzled at the intrusion of a nonmember in committee business, but she didn't miss the way he watched Sidney, offering his hand for support as she moved down the stairs. He only gave Lora a quick nod when introduced, then turned his attention back to the professor. That kind of devotion would have been hard to miss.

Billy shook hands with Sloan when the couple reached the floor of the basement. He seemed to accept the stranger, but the sisters had a few questions.

“Where are you from, Mr. McCormick? What brings you to Clifton Creek? Have you been a friend of our professor for some time?”

To Sloan's credit, he smiled. “I'm a good friend of Sidney's. I've been in Clifton Creek for almost two weeks and I'm doing research for a drilling company out of Houston. But, before you ask, I'm here as Sidney's friend, nothing more. Any business I have will be with the mayor, not this group.”

Everyone looked at Sidney as if she'd brought a wolf among the lambs.

Sidney defended him. “Sloan has brought some interesting research to me and he did it knowing that it might influence the group to decide against his company.”

No one appeared to believe her. Lora almost felt sorry for the professor. Sloan got the hint before Sidney had to say anything.

“Look,” he said. “I didn't mean to interrupt the group. I just brought Sidney here because it's raining and she hates to drive.”

No one commented.

He brushed the professor's arm with one hand while he pulled his cell from his pocket. “Take this and hit one, then the talk button when you need me to come back for you. I've got my other cell in the truck. I'll wait there.”

Sidney shook her head and tried to give back the phone. “That's not necessary, Sloan. I can catch a ride home if it's still raining.”

He brushed her shoulder. “Don't worry about it. I don't mind. I'll probably be out front in my truck checking my e-mail when you call.”

Lora saw it again, that caring way he had of looking at the professor. Maybe she didn't consider herself a good judge of men, but Lora would have had to be blind not to see that McCormick cared for Sidney. She took a chance. “Don't feel like you have to leave, Mr. McCormick.” Lora purposely didn't glance at the others. “You're welcome to stay as long as we have your word that you are here as a friend and not on business.”

Sloan lifted his right hand as if ready to take an oath.

To her surprise Billy came to her aid. “Yeah. Maybe you can shed some light on our find.” He handed Sloan the poster.

Sloan seemed to relax a fraction. “Sidney told me about this poster.”

“Not that poster,” Billy corrected. “One just like it. We found this one hidden down here.”

Suddenly, everyone wanted to talk at once. Now that half the committee had decided to accept Sloan, he had to be filled in. The rain still pounded, lightning flashed across the windows, but Lora didn't feel the chill. She stood back and watched the others, hoping she'd done the right thing by inviting Sloan to join them. She hadn't done it for him, really, she'd done it for the professor.

They moved upstairs where the light was better and sat
on the wide stairs. Sloan pulled a folding chair from the room where they'd held the first meeting. He offered it to Sidney and then stood behind her as she untied the ribbon around the letters Billy had found. Like a choir on risers, the sisters took the third step for seating. Lora moved up a few and dusted off a spot. Billy climbed higher and sat behind her, offering his leg as a backrest.

Lora leaned against him, feeling the now familiar sense of being accepted. He ran his hand over her shoulder almost absently as they waited for Sidney.

The professor looked at the first envelope. “It's a letter from Rosa Lee Altman to Fuller Crane.” She flipped through the stack. “Six letters,” she corrected. “All the same, addressed to Fuller in care of the Wichita Hospital.” Sidney looked up. “They are all unopened and stamped Return to Sender.”

Sidney passed the letters out.

While they talked about this twist, Lora noticed Sloan, with one of the letters in hand, walk out of the hallway and into the dining room. She guessed he needed more light, but doubted the streetlight would offer much.

“We should open them,” Billy suggested.

“They're not addressed to us,” Ada May pointed out the obvious. “If we open them wouldn't that be some kind of federal crime? Tampering with the mail.”

“From September 1933?” Billy stared at the letter in his hand.

Beth Ann shook her head. “That doesn't change the fact that we're holding someone else's mail.”

“From a dead woman,” he mumbled.

Everyone remained silent for a few minutes, then the professor said, “Whether we open them or not doesn't really matter. They prove that Rosa Lee had a lover. Fuller
and she are connected, but that still doesn't change any of the facts about this house.”

The sisters talked at length about how all the stories of Rosa Lee never having a man caller must not be true. They even recounted a few they'd heard when they were young. They also agreed that the letters should be opened. Maybe Rosa Lee was telling him goodbye.

Sidney finally ended the long debate by repeating that whatever they learned probably wouldn't make any difference to the committee, or to the vote they would all have to make by Wednesday.

There was some talk of asking the mayor for more time, but no one could come up with a good reason apart from the fact that they had somehow all gotten into the secret Rosa Lee had managed to hide from the community all her life.

Sloan stepped back into the room, his cell in hand. “I just called the hospital and asked for records.”

“How'd you know to do that?” Beth Ann wondered aloud.

“It's what I do for a living. Find people.”

“Well?” Ada May waited.

“Well,” he smiled. “There was a Fuller Crane admitted to the hospital in September of 1933. Injuries listed as critical from a rodeo accident.”

“If he was at the hospital, why didn't he get the letters?” Sidney whispered.