Kari Jacobs Box Set

by Harper Harris

  The butler made a big sweeping motion with his hand and said, “You may follow me inside, so I can formally announce you to the ladies of the house.”

  He kept saying things like ‘mistress’ and ‘ladies of the house.’ Who was he talking about? His bosses, I was assuming? It didn’t make it any less weird or confusing.

  “Your name, Miss?”

  “Uh, Kari Jacobs.”

  “This way, Miss Jacobs.”

  I nodded again and stepped inside when he motioned for me to. The two Great Danes were right on my heels and I wasn’t sure if they were attached to me now. Usually, dogs would get their sniff in and then go back to their owners, but these guys seemed to want to spend a whole lot more time with me. I guessed they probably didn’t get a lot of visitors in this secluded area, even though there was a butler, and I didn’t know what he would do without guests to let in.

  When I stepped inside, I got my first look at the house, mainly the foyer to be exact, and it was just as fascinating as the exterior. There were paintings on the walls of old Southern ladies and gentlemen, as well as bucolic scenes of the countryside. Columns came down from the ceiling and there was a winding staircase leading way, way up. To really sum it all up, I’d have to label the house as intimidating. It was inspiring a bit of awe within me.

  The butler caught me staring and I could tell he found it distasteful, even if he kept that bit to himself. I stopped gawking at the home and waited for him to direct me to wherever these ladies of the house were.

  “Please follow me to the sitting room.”

  He gave me a reluctant little bow and then turned on his heels to walk down the hall.

  He was keeping a quick pace and I did my best to keep up. I knew he would like me even less if I started to lag behind. The dogs followed us as well, the four of us, an odd little group navigating down to wherever we were headed.

  Chapter Three

  The hall we were walking down was quite long and it had even more paintings hanging o the wall. They were unique works of art that looked expensive. I would have loved to stop and look around, but the butler was keeping a brisk pace that I didn’t want to break.

  We reached the end of the hallway and the butler suddenly stopped at a door. He knocked lightly before opening it. The Great Danes ran inside and I decided to just wait right outside until the butler officially let the women know I was there. But the butler motioned for me to follow him, so I ditched my plans and walked inside, standing just behind him.

  I looked around the large sitting room and it was like the rest of the house, an homage to the Antebellum South. The furniture, rugs, art, walls––they were all antiques.

  The butler cleared his throat and announced, “A Miss Kari Jacobs to see you mes madames.”

  Two elderly ladies were sitting very primly and properly in two separate chairs. One of them had to be the lady of the house, but I wasn’t sure which one. They both wore long sleeve dresses with legit petticoats. I’m talking full-blown, ballooning out from their waists, circular petticoats here. It was as if they had fallen out of an old civil war movie.

  I couldn’t imagine wearing something so stifling, but, at that moment, I felt very out of place in my modern clothes. I was pretty sure I was the weird one here.

  The butler had moved around me, so I was now front and center. It felt like everyone was scrutinizing me. One of the women stood up and came over to me, hand held out. I put my hand in hers and we shook.

  “Hello, Kari. I’m Sylvia Winters, mistress of this here plantation. At Red Rivers we believe in good ole Southern hospitality and I hope you find your stay here, whether short or long, to be a pleasant one.”

  Her introduction was quite grand and gave me a bit of insight into her personality. She seemed to be a bit of an eccentric. She would have to be, though, to live like she was still in the old South.

  Mrs. Winters turned to look over at the woman still sitting and introduced her, “And this is my sister-in-law, Delilah. She does some housekeeping for me. But right now we were just sitting and talking.”

  I gave Delilah a slight wave and she nodded softly as a way of acknowledging me.

  “I’m Kari Jacobs.” I internally flinched at my little faux pas. I didn’t know why I said that since the butler had already let everyone know who I was. Mrs. Winters smiled, seemingly unperturbed by my slip up.

  “We know, darlin’. You seem to be a little discombobulated, though. Why don’t you have a little sit down and maybe a spot of tea would do you some good?”

  “That would be nice.”

  Mrs. Winters glanced behind me and I heard the butler walking out of the room and the door closing behind him. There weren’t even words spoken between them, but he just knew what to do. Mrs. Winters swept her large dress around her and motioned at a chair right by the ones she and Delilah were sitting in.

  I sat down and, still, I felt quite nervous. Everyone here seemed really nice. They hadn’t done anything to make me anxious, but I couldn’t help it. Maybe it was just me.

  Delilah put a hand on mine and commented, “You seem nervous, sweetie.” I thought I was hiding it a lot better. Apparently not. “Is everything okay?”

  “Not completely. My car broke down a little way from here and I actually came up to see if I could use your phone to call for a tow.”

  Delilah liked my answer enough to not look so concerned anymore. She patted my hand in a comforting way before removing hers off of mine. Maybe she thought I was here to rob or swindle them, and I suppose I couldn’t blame her, since I had just wandered in unexpected off the street.

  Sylvia took over answering, letting me know, “We have no problem letting you use the phone, but I regret to inform you that the local auto mechanic has closed. It’s far too late for them to be able to tow you.”

  It was seven p.m.

  Nothing in the city closed that early, except for the public places like the library, banks, or post offices. Tow truck services were private businesses that, where I came from, knew to stay open late so that they could make more money, since people couldn’t exactly ensure they broke down or wrecked during weekday business hours only. I supposed it was very different here, though— like most things seemed to be.

  I wasn’t necessarily upset; in fact, I’d find this Southern attitude towards business hours charming if I didn’t actually need a towing service urgently. I wanted to get back to my car as soon as possible.

  “Oh, I’m not sure what to do…”

  I knew my phone didn’t have any service here either and, even if it did, there was still no one to call. I felt even more stuck than before.

  “You can spend the night here and call in the morning. We have many extra rooms and it wouldn’t be the slightest bother.”

  I wondered if the butler felt the same way.

  Spend the night at an old plantation? The sentence itself sounded weird. I wasn’t sure how I felt about sleeping in a house with a bunch of strangers. The three of them seemed harmless enough. They were all just stuck in the past––a part of the past that was foreign and therefore strange to me––but I doubted they would hurt me.

  And my options were…well, what other options did I have? None, of course.

  “Sure,” I said. “Thank you so much. You really are too nice.”

  I mean, I was also a stranger to them. Even though I was wary about staying here, without the offer, I’d be going back to my car and having a sleep in a much more precarious situation.

  “There is no such thing, darling. And you’ll be keeping two old ladies company.”

  There was a soft knock on the door, momentarily interrupting our conversation. The butler walked in with a tray a tea and biscuits and he placed it on the table in front of the ladies and me.

  “Oh, thank you so much, Henry.”

  He gave a quick nod and asked, “Will there be anything else, ma’am?”

  “Young Miss Kari can pour the tea, I believe, so that will be all,” Mrs. Winters said. �
�I’ll call if there’s anything more for you to do.”

  He then gave us all a bow before heading out of the sitting room. The entire exchange was fascinating to watch. There were so many unspoken rules I was not privy to that guided how the two of them interacted. I wanted to dissect and analyze it, but I was also a little too tired for that.

  Sylvia turned towards me and said, “I don’t know if Henry introduced himself. He finds it rather inappropriate to tell any of our guests his name unless asked. He’s a very proper butler.”

  Indeed.

  We sat for a few seconds, no one touching the tray in front of us. When I looked at Sylvia, she was glancing back and forth between me and the tray. I eventually took the hint and recalled I would be the one pouring the tea.

  I got out of my seat and asked the two ladies, “Do you want any sugar?”

  They gave me their tea preferences and I prepared everyone a cup. I handed them over and we all sat and sipped quietly for a couple minutes. It was nice having the warmth travel through my body. I didn’t realize how much I needed something as simple as a cup of tea.

  “So, are you just passing through or are you here to stay?” Mrs. Winters finally asked.

  “I’m here to stay. I’m actually moving to Appleton.”

  “Really?” Sylvia seemed to be very intrigued by what I was saying.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I’m moving for work. The local law firm hired me and it seemed like a nice change of pace.”

  “A change of pace from where?”

  “San Francisco. It’s where I grew up and went to school. A lot of my friends were looking to move to other big cities or stay in San Francisco, but I wanted something different.”

  I wanted to be able to make a bigger difference in a smaller community. I’m a fan of the personal touch, talking face to face, “old-fashioned” stuff like that. Being a small part of a big law firm would have been okay, but ultimately it didn’t feel like what I wanted to do. Being a junior associate in a local law firm, however, meant more responsibility as well as the opportunity to get more general experience.

  “So, you’re a big-city gal?”

  “I am.”

  I felt sheepish admitting it. I knew the city sometimes got a bad rap down South. I hoped I was giving them a better impression.

  “Well, as you hoped, I’m sure living here will be a very big change of pace.”

  “The bigger the better.”

  Delilah and Sylvia laughed at my little joke.

  “You’ll fit here perfectly here, sweetie. With your attitude, you’ll find very few obstacles.”

  I smiled as I drank more of my tea. Sylvia was talking about how the South differs from the rest of America when one of the dogs, the bigger of the two, slumped down at my feet. This stopped whatever Sylvia was saying and she turned her attention to the big pup on the ground.

  “Oh! Snickerdoodle likes you. He can be a bit of a curmudgeon, sometimes.” He didn’t seem to ornery to me.

  Yum. “Snickerdoodle. I like that name.”

  Sylvia’s smile grew.

  “He’s my prize male show dog and sire. He’s never disappointed me.” She pointed to the other dog, “She’s Macaroon, the female. They’ve been together awhile and have produced many a prizing-winning Great Dane.”

  I’d guessed Sylvia had them for breeding purposes as well and I asked the question burning in my mind. “Do you have any puppies right now?”

  Even though I’d never had one of my own, I loved dogs, especially puppies. Playing with a few puppies right now would be a nice way to end a bad day. I wouldn’t say no to a few puppy kisses.

  “We do, but they are not ready for the pubic yet,” Mrs. Winters said.

  She was shaking her head rather adamantly. I wasn’t sure what she meant by the puppies not being ready for the public. There were many layers to my confusion, actually, such as the question of what did she mean by “ready”? Also, I was one person, hardly a “public.” But they were her puppies and I accepted her answer.

  “Hopefully, I get to see them another time,” I tell them.

  “Of course. As soon as they are ready for their big debut, I’ll introduce you.”

  It sounded like a plan. Delilah was being pretty quiet, watching Sylvia and I talk away. I wasn’t sure how to include her in the conversation, though.

  Sylvia didn’t seem to find it a problem and kept talking to just me. “So, you said you were moving here for work?”

  “Yes,” I said, nodding.

  “What is it exactly that you do?”

  “I’m a lawyer. Technically. I’m still pretty fresh out of law school.”

  I hadn’t been a lead on any of the cases that I had worked on yet. That was one of the biggest reasons I chose Appleton as the place to move to. I wanted to get the chance to be in the thick of it and when I was interviewing with the lead lawyer at this firm, Mr. Winston, he told me I’d get to oversee my own caseload.

  Sylvia was oddly excited about my occupation. Usually, when someone became excited that I was lawyer, it was because they wanted some lawyerly advice or help. This time was no exception.

  “You’re a lawyer? How fortuitous. I’ve been needing someone just like you,” she proclaimed. I wasn’t the biggest fan of being called to be a lawyer in more casual situations, but they were letting me spend the night, so I didn’t mind too much. I wanted to be a good guest.

  “What’s your legal problem?”

  I put on my professional lawyer smile and prepared to listen to Mrs. Winters’ complaint. People often asked me about divorces, car accidents, wills, job issues, or odd problems that didn’t even involve the law.

  They seemed to think that just because I went to law school, I would be familiar with every area of the law and would be able to answer their question on the spot. That wasn’t how things really worked though— instead, a lot of research was involved and often the answer was “it depends,” and there was a reason they called it “practicing” law.

  Mrs. Winters moved a little closer to me, but didn’t bring her voice any lower.

  “I want to sue the owner of the plantation next door. My family Bible has gone missing and I am positive it was the viper next door that took it.”

  A theft. That wasn’t something normally solved by a lawyer, at least not at the current stage. There would have to be an arrest first, of course, and then lawyers could prosecute the crime or defend the suspect.

  “Did you call the police?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t too obvious of a follow up question.

  She rolled her eyes, which told me she was not their biggest fan.

  “I did. But just wait ’til you meet that bunch of lazy good for nothings. They didn’t help me out one bit. I don’t even think they made an official report.”

  There wasn’t much I could do in a situation like this. But I didn’t want to seem distant or dismissive, so I asked her about the Bible.

  “How long have you had the Bible?”

  “Ever since I married my husband. It had been in his family for years. I can’t believe anyone would steal something so particularly special to me.”

  She was right about that. Stealing a family Bible was pretty personal. Whoever took it, if it was stolen, would have to have a very personal grudge against Sylvia. The problem was that I was a newcomer, so I was working with zero knowledge of any of this.

  “Why do you think the Bible was stolen?” I asked her.

  There was a chance that this all could be one big misunderstanding. First, it had to be established that a crime was committed. But, before she could answer, the clock chimed eight.

  Instead of responding to my question, Sylvia declared, “It is time for us to retire to bed.”

  It was such an abrupt turn of events, I was a bit startled. There was no transition; Sylvia had just completely switched off what we were talking about. She picked up a little bell and rang it a few times.

  Henry was back in a matter of seconds and Sylvia ordered, “Show Miss K
ari the guest room. She’ll be spending the night.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He helped Sylvia and Delilah out of their seated positions and, right before exiting the room, Sylvia turned to me and said, “Now, you have a good night. We’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.”

  And with that, the two Southern belles were gone.

  Henry was waiting for me to get up, but I saw our discarded teacups and thought it would show some gratitude if I were to help clean up. That’s how we did it at my house.

  I started arranging things on the tray, but Henry stopped me with, “Excuse me, Miss Kari?”

  I looked over at him and he told me, “Don’t worry about those. I will attend to this room after I escort you to the guest suite. Please follow me.”

  He had such an authority that I just left what I was doing alone. Plus, I didn’t want to overstep my bounds. They probably had a system of doing things and I wouldn’t want to get in the way or make things harder.

  I left the sitting room, following Henry while the dogs followed me. They had stayed pretty close throughout the evening and I wasn’t annoyed, but more like flattered, really. It was always a good sign when animals liked you.

  We didn’t go back to the front where the spiraling staircase was, instead climbing up a regular straight, up and down one. My room was on the second floor and once we got there, Henry opened the door for me, letting me see where I would be spending the night.

  Everything about this house was opulent, but that didn’t stop me from almost gasping at how beautiful the guest room was. Its sheer size was enough to give someone a second’s pause. There were apartments in the city that weren’t even this big. I could not believe it.

  I took a step inside and openly ogled everything inside, even though I knew Henry was probably silently judging my lack of decorum.

  He piped up and said, “There are dressing things in the armoire, the bathroom is right through that door. There should be all the toiletries you need in the cabinets. And if you require any assistance at any point, please do not hesitate to call. Good night, Miss Jacobs.”