The Secret Staircase (A Wendover House Mystery Book 1)
Page 12
A quick glance in the pantry showed me that I had an assortment of pickled things that I could use to supplement the cheese and crackers. It wouldn’t be a party for the home and garden magazines, but it would do for the time being.
“We’re all set,” I told Jack who was standing in the backyard and staring at the smudged flagstones. I guess maritime law was not that engrossing.
“Good,” he said absently. “You know, I feel like I should recognize this design. I’ve seen it somewhere.”
“Me too. It’s one of the many things I plan on looking up once I have power and my computer.” Jack grunted. “Well, you enjoy the sun. I’m going to cut some flowers and give the parlor a dusting.”
And take a look at the books I had brought down and hide any that made my family look too kooky. I didn’t need Jack or anyone else reading them ahead of me.
My study of the books was perfunctory since I had to take a little time to shove some flowers in a vase and drag a cloth around the room. One book caught my eye because of the maze design in it. The rest seemed to be about sea trade routes and the predicted boring histories of saintly local families.
Jack came in looking for lunch before I had scanned more than a half dozen tomes.
“You know what that stonework out back reminds me of?” he asked, sounding pleased. “It’s the yellow brick road from The Wizard of Oz.”
I smiled, but if the book I had looked at was right, it was a Native American symbol for the Four Ages of Man. Whether this was a good symbol or a bad one—or just decorative—I couldn’t say. But it lent credence to the story about the island having belonged to the local tribe before Abercrombie moved here.
* * *
My guests arrived at seven. Clouds were gathering, but they remained thoughtfully distant and I thought that perhaps we were going to manage a night without rain. This sudden clearing had to infuriate the Sands brothers who had been working night after night in showers and wind.
It took only a moment to lay out a tray of nibbles and pour everyone some wine. We did a few moments of chitchat, Mary Cory even unbending enough to say welcome of Jack and ask about his leg.
After everyone had chewed a few crackers and sipped a bit of wine, I made my big announcement.
“I found something wonderful today—actually two wonderful things.” Harris looked arrested, but Ben began to grin. Mary remained stone-faced. Jack’s eyes were all over everyone. He was probably trying to pick out the smugglers.
“You found the cave!” Ben guessed.
“I did. It turns out that there is a tunnel leading from it to the basement. Of course, I don’t plan on making this fact generally known, but I thought that you all would like to see it.”
Harris managed to look both surprised and interested.
“I would certainly like to see it,” he said politely.
“It isn’t one of the wonders of the world or anything,” I warned. “But it might make a nice wine cellar or something.”
“Let’s see it at once,” Ben suggested, and so we got up and went downstairs again, even Jack, who had to be tired of making this trip.
The cave was admired for a minute or so. It looked more mysterious than it was when seen by the light of a single flashlight. I pointed out the iron ring and Ben, predictably, drew the right conclusions about its use.
Ben would have lingered but I shooed everyone upstairs. The cave was damp and getting cold.
“You said there were two things,” Ben reminded me as we settled back into the parlor and I lit the fire.
“Yes. I also found a small room off of the attic and it was full of family portraits.” I watched Harris and was not surprised to see him flush with guilt. “They were not an attractive lot and it quite depresses me that everyone sees my resemblance to them. Still, they are family and we don’t get to choose our genetic destiny.” I stood up and reached for my wine. “We can choose other things though.”
I smiled at the room but turned my gaze back to Harris. I thought of all the people I had met and couldn’t think that anyone except Harris and his parents, and perhaps a few people of that generation, actually believed the legend.
“And?” he prompted. “You’ve chosen something?”
“Yes. And I’m going to stay. I love the house. I’ve made new friends and hope to make more. And this isn’t the eighteenth century. If I get lonely for fast food or want to see a movie, I can always hop the ferry to the mainland. It isn’t like I’d be a prisoner here.”
I don’t think anyone but Harris took my meaning.
“I’m very glad,” he said sincerely.
“As am I!” Ben said and I knew that both of them meant it, though for different reasons.
Mary added her congratulations but I don’t think she was completely sincere about her happiness at acquiring a new neighbor.
“If I can get a flight on such short notice, I will fly back on Friday with Jack and start packing up my apartment. I have to make arrangements for the sale of the newspaper, but I don’t think any of it will take long. I’ll be back before winter. Hopefully before fall. Harris, will you mind dealing with the electrician while I’m gone?”
“Not at all.”
I exhaled. “Good. And, though it is a long time off, I would like to invite everyone to a Christmas party. You too, Jack, if you can get away. And next time I will manage something better than pickled onions and crackers.”
And I would have my grandmother’s shotgun. Just in case.
About the Author
Melanie Jackson is the author of over 50 novels. If you enjoyed this story, please visit Melanie’s author web site at www.melaniejackson.com.
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