by Karen White
I nodded. “And I’d bet a fortune in rubies that these four spots show us where Lafayette’s treasures were buried.”
The hall clock chimed and our giddy smiles quickly turned to expressions of panic. “We’ve got to go,” I said.
“But I haven’t changed my dress yet.”
“No time. We need to find Anthony. I’m hoping he’ll be at the house by the time we get there.”
“And if he’s not?” Jayne asked.
“Then we’ve got a problem.”
CHAPTER 33
The flurries had stopped by the time we left Jayne’s house and headed back to Tradd Street, but when I checked the weather app on my phone, it looked like the break was temporary, the chance of frozen precipitation going from five percent to one hundred percent by two in the morning.
Jayne squeezed into the driveway behind the catering van, promising to move her car when they were ready to leave, unwilling to park blocks away and walk back in the cold. Nola had texted earlier to let us know that Cooper had brought sand to scatter on the walkway and steps, which I’d have to make sure Jack knew about so he’d stop scowling so much in the young man’s direction.
The front door opened as we walked quickly down the piazza, and I held back a shout of surprise when I saw Anthony wearing a dinner jacket and holding two coat hangers. “Ladies,” he said with a wide smile. “So glad to see you. We were wondering if you would get here before the guests.”
“We’ve been calling you and texting,” Jayne said, turning around so he could help her with her coat. “We noticed that you’ve moved out—weren’t you going to tell me?”
“Sorry—I should have given you a heads-up. I figured I had imposed enough on you and that I needed to get back to my house. That’s when I dropped my phone down your stairs this afternoon and it shattered. First thing tomorrow, snow allowing, I’m heading to the Apple store on King Street. I’m so sorry for making you worry—I didn’t think to borrow someone’s phone to let you know since I knew I’d see you here.”
He placed her coat on a hanger, then reached to help me take off mine, pausing slightly when he noticed our dresses but making no comment. “Well,” I said, “I’m glad you’re here. We need to get to Gallen Hall—can you take me as soon as the dinner is over?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Why?”
I looked at him, surprised. “You didn’t figure out the map?”
He shook his head. “What map? Of Gallen Hall?”
“No—the cemetery. I think there’s something—” The doorbell rang, cutting me off. He sent it an annoyed look but didn’t move to answer it.
I gave him a small shove on his back. “Guests are arriving, and I’d rather we speak in private. We’ll talk later.”
He looked as if he might argue, but then smiled as he opened the door to allow in a couple I’d seen at another Ashley Hall event. Several other couples followed, including a group of teachers from the school, and it quickly grew loud and crowded as guests began filling the foyer. Nola joined Anthony to help hang up the coats on the rented racks placed in Jack’s study, even though I was pretty sure I hadn’t assigned her that job on her spreadsheet.
They were kept busy hanging coats for half an hour as people trailed in at different times, most of them having hesitated leaving the appetizer houses until assured the snow would stop. Servers dressed in Revolutionary War–era clothing walked around with tankards of syllabub (made from Sophie’s authentic recipe) to keep the party atmosphere going while we waited for everyone to arrive before we were seated.
I was eager to find time to speak with Anthony, but I had to play hostess and give guests the tour of the Christmas trees and discuss how I’d made the centerpieces and wreaths.
“Are these real?” The mother of one of Nola’s classmates leaned over to study the oranges in the large bowl on the foyer table that Greco had been kind enough to zhush for me.
“Yes,” I said. “All of the fruit in every decoration is real.”
She put her hand to the side of her mouth to whisper conspiratorially, “You know, they sell fake ones now that look as good as the real ones, and they last a lot longer.”
I kept the smile on my face, considering for a moment calling Sophie and asking the woman to repeat what she’d just said. “Yes, well, I’ve heard that, too, but we wanted this to be a more authentic experience for the attendees.”
The woman moved on as I was approached by an older couple who remembered Nevin Vanderhorst and said they were happy to see the house dressed up for the holidays again. “You’ve done such a lovely job, my dear,” the wife said, her green eyes matching her beautiful emerald earrings. “It certainly has the feeling of being a home again.” She took my hand and patted it. “I’m sure Nevin and his mother would be thrilled to know what you’ve done.”
“I’m pretty sure they know,” I said, not meaning to say it out loud.
They both looked a little startled as the woman dropped my hand. “Yes, well, I just wanted to let you know that this house finally has the warmth of a home.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling my chest puff with love and pride for this house that I’d never wanted to own and that I still had doubts about. But she was right. It was home for my family and for me. It was something worth fighting for.
As they walked away, they paused by the centerpiece bowl and I overheard the gentleman say, “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen cloves placed so precisely on oranges in all of my years. . . .”
I hid my smile as I turned toward the front door, watching it open with the last of the arrivals. I knew that Veronica and Michael had been assigned to dinner at my house, so I wasn’t surprised to see them, but I was quite certain that Rebecca and Marc weren’t on my list. Especially because I’d ensured their names appeared on the dinner list at another house.
“Cousin!” Rebecca squealed as Anthony helped her with her coat. I said hello to Veronica and Michael before they headed into the room to greet Alston and Cooper’s parents. I looked in dismay at Rebecca’s green velvet dress, thankfully adorned with pink shoes and matching handbag so she, Jayne, and I wouldn’t look like triplets. I’d already rethought my whole dressing-the-twins-alike mode in the three seconds it had taken to register that Rebecca was wearing the same dress as Jayne and me.
She hugged both of us before standing back and taking in our dresses. Despite her outward cheeriness, her eyes were slightly puffy and her peaches-and-cream complexion was sprinkled with small, angry bumps along her cheeks. Either pregnancy didn’t suit her or her marriage didn’t.
“Great minds think alike, right? And I hope you don’t mind, but I changed house assignments with another couple so I could come here.”
She looked so sad and pathetic that I had to smile. “Sure.” I glanced behind her. “Is Marc with you?” I asked, resisting the impulse to cross my fingers behind my back.
Rebecca stuck out her chin. “No. He said he had important ‘business’ to take care of.” She swallowed heavily. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here to have fun with my family.” She waved to my mother across the room, then smiled shakily at Jayne and me.
“I’m sorry,” Anthony said, putting an arm around Rebecca’s shoulders. “My brother’s a jerk. He has been my whole life. Why don’t you sit at our table so you won’t have to sit next to strangers?” He looked at me. “Is that all right with you?”
Before I could say no or that I’d spent three whole days and two spreadsheets on planning the seating arrangements, he was headed to the front parlor, where I’d placed Anthony and Jayne at a table with two teachers from Ashley Hall, and I tried not to wince as I noticed him dragging an extra chair to his table. Rebecca leaned close to me. “I hope you were able to use the drawing I gave you.”
“I was, actually. It was very helpful.”
Jayne widened her eyes at me.
“Thank you,” I ad
ded.
“So, what was it?” Rebecca asked.
I hesitated, not forgetting that she was Marc’s wife. But I owed her. I couldn’t have figured anything out without the one critical piece of information she’d given me. And, as she and my mother kept reminding me, she was family. “It’s part of a map.”
“A map?”
Jayne nodded. “Yes. Melanie figured it all out. The brick puzzle Anthony was working on is the actual cemetery at Gallen Hall, and the two drawings along with a photo Melanie took of the mausoleum gate are part of the same map.”
Rebecca actually giggled. “Wow. Marc couldn’t have figured that one out in a million years.” She sobered quickly. “You won’t tell him I said that, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “I have no intention of speaking with your husband ever again, so the answer is no.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Never say never. Marc and Anthony will swear up and down that they hate each other, but Marc said he wants his brother to be godfather to our baby.”
“Really?” Jayne and I said together.
We were interrupted by our mother approaching, looking elegant and regal in a dark violet silk chiffon dress and matching velvet pumps. “Mellie, darling, I think it’s time for everyone to be seated.”
With a quick glance at Rebecca, I moved away to find Nola to give her permission to ring the dinner bell; then Cooper appeared by her side to escort her to one of the smaller tables. She hadn’t complained about being seated at one of the “children’s tables,” as she called them, when I told her I’d saved a seat at her table for anyone she cared to invite.
I helped guests find their place cards and take their seats, and I finally headed into the dining room to take my place at the head of the table just as the caterers began serving the soup course. I remembered my manners, taking turns to speak with diners on either side of me, happily answering questions regarding my connection to Ashley Hall, the house, my job, and whether I was wearing a uniform of some sort, which was why there were three of us all dressed alike. I smiled and ate and talked, all the while aware of something niggling at the back of my mind, as tiny and destructive as a termite.
Keenly aware of the time, I listened for the chiming of the grandfather clock in the parlor. As soon as the last guest left, I’d ask Anthony to take me to Gallen Hall. I was already envisioning dumping the rubies in Jack’s hands, and then him kissing me, his anger at me easily pushed aside by his gratitude.
Dessert was served at different houses, so there wasn’t much lingering after the guests had finished eating. I might have been too enthusiastic about pulling out people’s chairs, removing plates, and bringing coats into the foyer in my haste for them to leave, but it had started flurrying again and I could hear an imaginary clock ticking in my head.
Despite a few stragglers wandering around the foyer chatting and examining the decorations, I went in search of Anthony to make sure he was ready to go as soon as the last guest departed. I found Jayne saying good-bye to Veronica and Michael at the front door.
Her smile faded when she saw me approach. “Where’s Anthony?”
“I was coming to ask you the same thing. Wasn’t he with you at dinner?”
“Yes, but right after the main course was served, he excused himself, saying that you’d asked him to come find you before the meal was over because you needed him for something.”
I shook my head slowly. “No. I never said that.” Our eyes met as a sick feeling, as viscous and dark as octopus ink, flooded my insides.
“He must be here somewhere,” Jayne said, an unmistakable note of panic in her voice. “I must have misunderstood.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” I said, although I had no such certainty. Together we looked in all of the downstairs rooms including the kitchen and powder room, and even searched the back garden. We found our parents kissing under the mistletoe strung across the threshold of Jack’s office. I coughed loudly as we approached, and they, mercifully, pulled away from each other. “Has either of you seen Anthony?”
My father nodded. “I was headed to the bathroom and saw him leave out the back door about forty-five minutes ago. I assumed you’d sent him on some errand.”
“No. I didn’t.” I met Jayne’s gaze. Without a word she ran toward the front door and threw it open, leaving it ajar as she raced down the piazza to the front walk. I met her at the front door on her return, her eyes wide and glazed.
“His car’s not here.” She looked at me. “His car’s not here,” she repeated, as if to convince herself.
I grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, closing the door behind us.
“This isn’t good, is it?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “It’s not.”
Our parents appeared with Rebecca, all three bundled for the weather. “We’re going to take Rebecca with us, if that’s all right. It was a lovely event,” Mother said, and kissed me on the cheek.
I tried to act relaxed, as if my world hadn’t suddenly been shaken like a snow globe. We said our good-byes and I watched them leave. Then I put my face close to Jayne’s. “Did you talk about the map at dinner?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I didn’t.” A loud, choking sob erupted from her throat. “But . . .”
“But what?”
“But Rebecca did. She mentioned how you’d figured out everything with her help. I didn’t stop her because it was Anthony. I didn’t think I needed to. But she didn’t say anything about how the three drawings and the brick puzzle have to be used together because she doesn’t know about it. That’s a good thing, right?”
“Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh.” I squeezed my head between my hands as if that would somehow eradicate all the stupidity that apparently lived there. I remembered the niggling feeling at the back of my head that had started when Rebecca mentioned that Marc wanted Anthony to be the godfather to their baby. “Marc and Anthony—they’re just pretending. They’re not estranged.”
“But why . . .” Jayne stopped, her eyes widening, her breath coming in short, hollow puffs. “They set us up.” Her face lost color as the implications settled on her. “Everything Anthony said to us was a lie. He used us. All of us.”
I nodded, thinking of snippets of all the conversations I’d had with Anthony, all the information that I’d shared that he’d told Marc. Beneath the shame and humiliation, I felt the rolling burn of anger. “I have no doubt that they’re both at Gallen Hall now.”
“But they don’t know everything, right? They still need to figure out how you have to put them all together.”
“They will, though.” I closed my eyes, allowing the dismal dread of failure to swallow me. And somewhere, in the black darkness, I heard my grandmother’s voice. Jack. I couldn’t fail him now, not when he needed me the most. I opened my eyes, a renewed sense of determination flooding my veins. “We can’t let them beat us. We just can’t.”
“But how—”
“Give me your car keys. The caterer is blocking me in and I don’t have time to waste to ask them to move.”
“Where are you going?”
“To Gallen Hall. To the cemetery. I’ve got to get those rubies before Marc finds them.”
“But what if you run into Marc and Anthony?” Jayne asked, her eyes wide.
“I don’t know,” I said somberly. “I can only hope that they’re still trying to figure out what to do with the map. Or that they’re waiting until morning. And if not, then I’ll think about that when I have to.”
Jayne shook her head. “I’m going with you,” she said, already marching toward the door. “So at least it’s two against two if it comes to that.”
“Absolutely not. You need to stay here. If I need help, I’ll call you. Besides, it wouldn’t do for both of us to get into trouble without backup. And I don’t want anyone else knowing yet—they’ll just try to st
op me and then I’ll be too late.”
I could tell her resistance was weakening. “But what should I tell Jack?”
“You don’t need to tell him anything. Let him sleep. I’ll let him know when I bring home the rubies.” I offered a hopeful smile that she didn’t return.
“Melanie, I can’t let you go alone. We’re stronger together, remember?”
“I won’t be alone. Eliza is there, and she’s on our side. I now understand why she pushed Anthony down the stairs.”
“And wrecked his car?”
I shook my head. “No. Now that I know that Marc and Anthony are cut from the same cloth, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wrecked it himself to get our sympathy.”
“But Lawrence is there, too, Melanie. Remember what happened at the mausoleum.”
My arm hurt at the memory, but I couldn’t let fear hold me back. There was just too much at stake. “Give me your keys, Jayne. Please. We’re running out of time.”
With a heavy sigh, she went to the makeshift coatrack and pulled her purse from a hanger. “For the record, I don’t agree with what you’re doing. I think this would be one of your decisions that Jack would call rash and un-thought-out. Just let me tell him—”
“No. He needs his rest. Let him sleep. I’ll tell him everything when I get back.”
“If you get back.” She dropped her keys in my outstretched hand.
“What do you mean, if? It’s not like Marc and Anthony are going to kill me or anything.”
Her eyes widened. “I used to think Anthony wouldn’t be capable of anything like that. Until tonight.” She swallowed, and I thought for a moment she might actually cry. “Apparently, I’m not a very good judge of character.”
Before I knew what I was doing, I’d put my arms around her for a quick hug. She looked as surprised as I felt. “Well,” I said, “if it makes you feel any better, neither am I. At least this way we have a chance to beat them at their own game.” I turned toward the demilune chest in the hallway and opened the doors to pull out a heavy pair of sweatpants and waterproof ankle boots. “I slip these on to take the dogs out,” I offered in explanation. “They’ll keep me warm and dry.” I sent a paranoid glance toward the stairs, afraid that I’d see Jack and he’d tell me not to go. “I’ll put these on in the car.”
