It didn’t take him long to find her. When you grew up with a father like Jack’s, you earned a PhD in hiding. He was so attuned to the shapes of nature that he saw the shadow of a human form sitting on a tree branch. As a child, he’d done that often. If he didn’t move and drew his breath shallowly, people would walk past without seeing him.
Jack didn’t show that he saw her. She was thin and her clothes were the color of the forest. It looked like she worked at keeping people from seeing her.
He sat down on the ground by the tree’s roots. A little clump of mushrooms was to his left. He put the bucket of berries where she could see them.
Leaning back on his hands, he looked out at the water. After a few minutes, he had so quieted his body that he could hear her breathing. He ate a few berries. “These are good. Want some?”
There was no response, but he didn’t expect any.
“I’m Jack, and it seems that I’m here to solve a mystery. Know anything about it?”
Continued silence. He ate more berries, then stretched out on the ground, hands behind his head. He was careful to keep his eyes on the water, not looking up into the tree.
After a few minutes he knew she was coming down, but he could hardly hear her. She’s good, he thought. Lots of practice in being still and not being seen.
When she was sitting beside him, he slowly sat up and turned to look at her. The driver had said she was in her forties but she looked young. No worry lines, not even laughter creases. Like those monks who spend their lives praying, he thought. Smooth, clean faces.
She had straight dark hair twisted back on her neck, and she was very thin. Her green blouse and black trousers hung on her. She had on odd, flexible slippers. They wouldn’t make a sound, or hinder her movements, whether in climbing a tree or scurrying through hallways.
Right away, he knew he liked her. Even felt a kinship with her.
When he smiled, after a moment, she gave a small smile back. He had an idea that she talked very little but listened a lot. “Hiding from your mom?”
Her smile broadened to show perfect white teeth.
“Me too,” he said. “Your mother scares me.”
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the water and the wildlife. “Where I live, there are alligators.”
She lifted her eyebrows in interest.
“I watch blue herons dive for fish. And soft-shelled turtles are in the water. Iguanas prowl around. They’re huge, iridescent green and gold. If you sit very still, they don’t run away.”
He could see that she was imagining those things and she leaned back on her arms, her eyes on the water.
He leaned back beside her. “Do you know what this mystery is?”
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“Who is Nicky?”
She sighed before she spoke. “He was to be the earl. He was going to inherit this place.”
He liked her voice. Quiet, soothing. “Was? What happened?”
“He died in a car crash.”
“And this was before or after the couple disappeared?”
“Two years after.” Puck looked at Jack. “Will you help find out the truth? Sean was my friend and they hated him.”
“Sean? He was one of the people who disappeared?”
Puck looked away as she whispered. “Yes. But he didn’t disappear. He—” A voice came and she stood up quickly.
“It’s just Kate,” Jack said. “She—” But Puck had vanished into the trees.
“There you are,” Kate said as she came into view. She sat down beside him and ate a couple of berries. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“And what do you think that was?”
“An orphan. A stray. Someone who needed to be rescued by Hero Jack.”
He snorted. “Is that a compliment or a gibe?”
“You tell me.” She waited for his answer.
“I didn’t like what that guy said, so shoot me. And yes, I found her. There’s something going on here and it’s not good.”
“She told you that?”
“Not in so many words. It’s a feeling as much as anything. Nicky—who bad-tempered Mrs. Aiken seems to have loved—was the earl-to-be. Died in a car wreck two years after Sean disappeared.”
“Sean Thorpe and Diana Beardsley.”
“How do you know their names?”
“It was in the news clipping.”
“The one you stole from Sara?”
She started to protest but then smiled. “The very one. I’m practicing to be a thief—like my father seems to have been. Do you know the combination to Aunt Sara’s safe?”
It took some work not to show his shock at the casual mention of her father’s predilections. “I know she doesn’t have a safe. Besides, the last I saw, half her jewelry was in your closet.”
“Now who’s snooping?”
He chuckled, ate some berries and leaned back on his arms. “So what’s our room like? Just to be clear, I get the end of the tub without the faucets.”
“You wish! But I did...”
“What?”
“I chose two rooms that have an internal door connecting them. Two baths though.”
Jack didn’t reply except to nod. If he found out that Sara had put them into a murder investigation like their first one, he wasn’t going to let either woman out of his sight. Ever.
Four
Jack followed Kate back to the house. He wasn’t surprised when she led him down corridors and up narrow stairs to reach their rooms. She was taking him through the servants’ way: secret and hidden. He knew she could have gone to the front and used the main stairs, but she was trying to impress him with what she’d learned about the intricacies of the house—and she did.
She stopped on the third floor—or as the English said, the second floor—two floors above the ground floor.
“I saw all the guest rooms,” she said. “It’s all unlocked because they’re cleaning every inch of the house.”
“Who did you see?”
“No one. Isn’t that great? It’s like we own the place.”
“Where is Sara?”
Kate shrugged. “I have no idea, but there’s a locked door in the western part of the house.”
“Then that’s where she is.”
Kate had her hand on a doorknob. “I didn’t know which room you’d like. They’re all old-school English decorating. None of that Swedish minimal look for Oxley Manor.”
Jack tried not to grimace at the vision he conjured: pink walls, pink bed draped in ruffles, little lampshades like from a dollhouse. As Kate opened the door, he braced himself.
The room was large and tall, with floor-to-ceiling windows. The walls were painted a deep, dark red, the woodwork white. The carpet was gray with red medallions. The bed was—thank you!—not canopied. It had a plain white cotton bedspread. There was a desk, a chest of drawers, a chair upholstered in red paisley, a TV and a two-person dining table.
“Well?” Kate said. “You like it or not?”
Jack looked around. “I never thought of a red bedroom. Think I should paint my room at home?”
“I think the iguanas would love it.” She was trying to hide that she was pleased that he liked what she’d chosen, but she couldn’t.
“So where are you?”
She tilted her head to indicate the door on the other side of the room. “We should find Aunt Sara. I think it’s time she told us what’s going on.” She headed to the door into the hall.
Ignoring her, Jack went to the connecting door. “What don’t you want me to see?”
“Nothing.” She made a leap to stop him from opening the door.
But he did. His eyes widened. “Holy merciful...” he whispered.
Kate frowned. “It’s not your room so you don’t h
ave to look at it. Let’s go.”
Jack didn’t move, just stared. It was like a child’s fantasy of a princess room. The bed had a canopy shaped like the top quarter of an egg. It was decorated with carvings of fleur-de-lis with feathers on top, all covered in gold leaf. Yards of cream-colored silk flowed down and was tied back with bows at the four corners of the bed. And what a bed! Upholstered in silk and trimmed in gold.
The walls of the room were covered with dark yellow brocade. The carpet was off-white. Over the marble fireplace was an Edwardian painting of a pretty young woman in a soft, flowery dress.
Kate was still frowning, waiting for his put-down.
Instead, he stretched out crosswise at the foot of the bed. He wouldn’t dare let his shoes touch the cover. “This is what a woman’s bedroom should look like.”
With a smile, Kate lay down at the head, hugging an embroidered pillow to her. “You really think so? It’s not too much?”
“It is way too much.” He was smiling.
She turned onto her back and looked up at the underside of the canopy. It had been gathered like a fan, with a silk rose in the center. “I wouldn’t want a bed like this at home. It’s too much to take care of and I’d be scared of damaging it, but it’s like a fairy tale. When I was a kid, I dreamed of a room like this. It’s where the princess lives after she finds her prince. It’s...” She stopped talking.
Jack kept looking up, but he reached out and took her hand. Kate’s childhood had been far from that of royalty. She had a mother who was given to frequent bouts of deep depression, and uncles who were religious zealots, and... Jack squeezed her hand. “It’s beautiful. Not as pretty as you but it shows you off well.”
Smiling, Kate turned to look at him. “What did you and your invisible person talk about?”
He didn’t let go of her hand. “She said—”
“There you two are,” Sara said from the doorway, then gasped at the room. “Yeow! This is gorgeous. I’m in the Queen Anne room, one flight down. Beautiful but huge. Take the roof off and a helicopter could land in it.”
She flopped down on the bed between them and they pulled their arms from under her. Sara took their hands in hers and looked from one to the other. “Nice place, huh?”
Jack sat up. “Cut the crap and spill all.”
Sara and Kate were still lying down and holding hands. They were smiling at each other.
“Stop with the silent conspiracy,” Jack said.
“He met Puck,” Kate said. “He wants to save her.”
“Bella and I saw her from a window. She makes wreaths and little potpourri bags. Sells them to the hotel and to shops in Bath and London. I was told they do quite well. Bella also said that her mother is awful. She—”
“We met her,” Kate and Jack said in unison, their voices full of disgust.
“That bad, huh?”
Kate slipped off her shoes and sat up against the headboard. Sara did the same and sat beside her.
At the other end, Jack looked at both of them. He had never before realized that when Kate was Sara’s age, she’d look just like her aunt. “Are you two ganging up on me?”
“We’re preparing for the famous Wyatt temper.” Sara looked at Kate, who nodded.
“You mean because I’ve been tricked and lied to? Manipulated, conned, played for a sucker?” he asked.
“I never lied,” Sara said.
A tiny quirk of a smile appeared at the side of his mouth. “So tell the whole story.”
“I saw an opportunity and I took it,” Sara said. “Bella emailed me about the work they were doing during the March closing. I was on my laptop and I brought up Oxley Manor and found a little site that told of unsolved mysteries at great houses, then...” She shrugged.
“You read about the disappearance,” Kate said.
“Exactly,” Sara said. “Sent my curiosity through the roof.”
“Mrs. Aiken told us of some guests who are coming,” Kate said. “She’s not happy about it.”
“Is she really as nasty as Bella said?”
“Worse,” Jack said. “Her poor daughter hides in trees.”
Sara and Kate stared at him, waiting for more.
“I’m not telling anything.” He was looking at Sara. “Who are the ‘parasites’ she has to cook for?”
“Parasites? Interesting choice of word,” Sara said. “I think I’ll go—”
She started to get off the bed, but Jack clasped her ankle. “No you don’t.”
Sara looked innocent. “You two are going to the Highlands, remember? I’m staying here to meet some people and ask questions. I want to find out what really happened to that couple. They just plain vanished. I dug through websites that do deep searching but there is no record of either of them.”
“Maybe they changed their names,” Kate said.
“Then that asks the question of why they had to do that,” Sara said.
“The real question,” Jack said, “is why you want to know.”
“Maybe I’ll write a mystery novel. What with the hotel being empty, I thought it might be fun to find out the truth.”
“I’m still waiting to hear what you did,” Jack said. “Something about a party.”
Sara looked at Kate. “Bella’s not too happy about it, but I invited the people who were there that night to come for a free weekend here at Oxley Manor. There are only four of them left.”
“Left? As in still alive?” Jack asked.
Sara waved her hand in dismissal. “Will you stop being Mr. Grump? Yes, one of them died.”
“Nicky, the earl-to-be, in a car crash,” Jack said.
“I’m impressed. What else have you found out?”
“Puck the wood sprite tell you that?” Kate asked.
Sara and Jack looked at her. She sounded jealous.
“Sorry,” Kate said. “Go on. Who are they?”
“All I know is that a group of friends had a party here way back in the ancient days of 1994.” Her sarcasm was dripping. “Two of them walked out and were never seen again. Years later one was killed in a car wreck.”
“And?” Jack asked.
“I told you. I did some digging—with Bella’s help, that is. She put me in touch with a man who used to work here and I called him. What an accent! Very difficult to understand. He said that weekend wasn’t just a onetime event but that the same young people were always here. The staff called them Nicky’s Pack.”
“That sounds more like dogs than people,” Kate said.
“Or wolves,” Jack added. “Go on.”
“That’s it,” Sara said. “There were six of them. They attended Cambridge University together and came here every weekend and holiday. ‘Pack of strays is what they were,’ the man said.”
“Doesn’t sound like he liked them,” Kate said.
“I don’t think he did, although when he mentioned Diana, his voice got soft.”
“Diana Beardsley.” Jack smiled when Sara looked surprised.
“How did you know—?”
“What about the others?” Kate asked. She didn’t want Sara to know she’d accidently seen the newspaper cutting.
“Bella helped me find the names. She...” Sara sighed. “She didn’t like doing it. But...you know.”
“You paid for the place so she had to,” Jack said.
“I don’t like holding something over someone’s head, but...”
“Couldn’t be helped,” Kate said dismissively. “What did you find out about them?”
“Sean—” She looked at Jack to supply the last name.
“Thorpe,” he said.
“Yes. Sean was the stable manager. He wasn’t actually in the group. He and Diana vanished, never to be seen again.”
“It’s been over twenty years,” Jack said. “And no one has heard anythi
ng?”
“That’s one of the first things I want to ask about when they get here.”
“Who are the others and where are they now?” Kate asked.
“Nadine Howland,” Sara said. “She and her father lived next door. Bella said he built a ghastly house.”
“Got an invitation to see it yet?” Jack asked.
“It’s on my list. She married a viscount so it’s now Lady Nadine. There was a man named Clive who was the estate manager. He’s a banker in London now. And a young woman named Willa. I had a really hard time finding her. She was the daughter of an aristocrat and I called the family.”
“You did all this without telling us a word?” Jack sounded hurt.
“What am I supposed to do all day?” Sara shot back. “You think I’m old so I should sit around and watch TV? Look at photo albums and go over my memories? Or—”
“Don’t use the age card on me!” Jack snapped back. “You could have told us what you were planning to do and—”
Kate, always the peacemaker, stepped in. “What happened to Willa?” She glared at Jack to shut up.
“I don’t know. I found her sister in London and called her. She did not want to talk about Willa.”
“Interesting,” Kate said.
“I thought so too. I gave her my email address to give to Willa. I didn’t think I’d hear back. But I did. Willa and I exchanged a few emails, and she said she’d love to come to a reunion, just give her a date.”
“So you don’t know what happened to her?” Jack was mostly over his anger.
“Not a clue.”
“That makes five,” Jack said. “Who’s the last of the Pack?”
Sara took so long to answer that Kate and Jack looked at her in curiosity. Finally, she locked eyes with Jack and said, “Byon Lizmere.”
Jack loudly sucked in his breath.
“Who’s he?” Kate asked.
Jack and Sara were staring at each other.
“Okay, you two,” Kate said. “Stop leaving me out. Who is this guy?”
“Before Last Night. Yesterday is Tomorrow.” Jack’s tone was reverent.
A Forgotten Murder Page 3
