by Donna Hill
“See?” Jake pointed at him. “That right there. Some kind of secret smile, as if you know something.”
Connor shrugged. “Maybe I do.” Jake was one of the few men that he could truly call friend. They’d been together for years and seen each other through all kinds of messes. Jake could be trusted. “It’s Olivia Gray.”
“You really think you needed to tell me?” Jake chuckled. “I saw that coming a mile away.” He clapped Connor on the back. “Good for you. It’s about time you got out of your self-imposed ‘can’t be bothered’ routine and got back in the game.”
“Is that right, oh, wise one?”
“You know I’m right. I’m always right.” He dipped his head and cocked a brow. “Told you about Adrienne, didn’t I?”
The muscle in Connor’s right cheek fluttered. “Yeah,” he conceded. “You did.”
“Well, whatever you decide, go in with both eyes open. And think with the head on top of your neck.” He chuckled at Connor’s side eye, then leaned against the side of the truck. “Think it can go somewhere?”
Connor shrugged. “Hey, who knows? Probably not. She has a life elsewhere, and I haven’t set down real roots in almost a decade. It is what it is for now.”
He rolled up the drawings, clapped his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “But knowing you, my brother, you will be the first to know and more than happy to tell me.” Connor laughed and walked away.
* * *
Olivia eased down the slope to the site. She pulled to the side, cut the engine and got out. She skipped down the rocky slope to level ground, then headed toward the main building in the hopes of seeing Connor for a moment, to let him know she was around. Also, she wanted to get into one of the buildings at the end of the development and needed to be sure that she could gain access. She smiled and acknowledged the members of the crew that she passed, many of the faces becoming familiar. She walked through the “budding town,” awed at witnessing the beginnings of life returning to a place whose history was longing to be uncovered. The single-storied structures were being meticulously repaired. Even though the buildings were hundreds of years old, the workers took great pains to match the new materials with the old. On each of the buildings there were waterproofed sketches or photos posted on the walls to indicate what the original structure looked like.
Olivia continued on to the main building. The door was closed. She knocked lightly, and when she heard Connor’s voice, she stepped in, ready to toss him a saucy greeting. She stopped short in the doorway when Victor turned in the chair facing Connor and smiled at her. Olivia’s heart jumped, then settled. She’d forgotten all about Victor’s visit.
Victor stood along with Connor.
“Liv,” Victor said in greeting. “Mr. Lawson and I were getting to know each other, sharing war stories.”
Olivia swallowed her surprise, put on a smile and stepped in. “I’m sure he has plenty to share,” she said, focusing on Connor in the hopes of being able to gauge him. But his expression was unreadable.
Connor came from behind the desk. “You two are more than welcome to use the office. I have some work I have to get to. If you need anything I’m sure Jake can help you.” He barely looked at Olivia as he breezed by her.
“Nice guy,” Victor said. He slid his hands in his pockets. “Smart, knows his stuff.”
“I pretty much told you the same thing.”
“I wanted to see for myself. I wanted to see what you saw.”
Her gaze jumped to his. “What are you talking about?”
“You forget that I know you, Liv. Maybe not fully, in the way that I would like again, but I do. And I heard it in your voice, and I saw it in your eyes when I came to see you.”
She looked away and folded her arms. “What does any of this have to do with anything? I’m here to do a job. Period.”
His eyes took her in. There was no mistaking the “don’t touch me” aura that she was giving off. He cleared his throat. “Glad to hear that. I’m going to take a quick tour, make some notes and then I’m heading back to the city in the morning.” He lifted his chin. “I need your answer about the position before I leave.”
“I haven’t had much time to think about it.”
“I’ll need your answer by tomorrow morning.” He picked up his leather folder from the desk. “Have a productive day, Liv.”
She watched him walk out of the door and a wave of anxiety rolled through her stomach. Victor had been the last thing on her mind when she was preparing to come to the site today. And after their talk at her house, she hadn’t thought much more about the director position. Add to that the chilly vibe that she’d gotten from Connor and her day was off to a flying start.
Olivia shook her head in annoyance. This was the reason she steered clear of commitment. Well, one of them. She huffed and strode outside. She was here to do a job and that was exactly what she intended to do, and the boys could have a pissing contest if they wanted.
* * *
Olivia walked to the end of the development that bordered a small lake and a wooded area. There were hard hats hung on hooks outside the building, along with a warning sign of the dangers of entering the buildings without a hard hat. A flatbed truck loaded with slats of wood and tools was parked out front, but no one was around. She grabbed a hard hat, shoved her hair underneath it and secured it on her head.
Like most of the homes, the steps were dry-rotted and the foundation leaned to one side, giving the impression that the building was looking at you from an angle of curiosity. Gingerly, Olivia made it up the steps by holding on to the railing. She unlatched the door and pushed it open.
Dust and the scent of antiquity floated in the air. Flecks of the past danced in the dim light that filtered through the plastic that replaced the missing windows. Olivia put her bag down on the floor and examined the one-room space. It was much like the shack that she’d first seen with Connor. Broken and dusty furniture and gaps in the wood floor spoke to the age of the room. She retrieved her camera from her bag and began to photograph the room. Then she began a closer examination, touching and pressing the beams. It was known that in many of these old homes there were secret hiding places where the inhabitants would store their freedom papers and other important family documents. She went over every inch of the room until she came upon a loose plank in the wall.
She squeezed her hand into the opening and her fingertips brushed against something firm. She struggled to push her hand in farther and her fingers wrapped around the object and pulled it out. It was a small bound leather folder that was cracked and discolored. Her pulse quickened.
She walked closer to the window to better see what it was. The folder was closed with a thin strip of fabric. The casing was so worn that she was fearful of it falling apart in her hands. She took a plastic bag from her purse and put it inside. Quickly she sat down on the floor, took a picture of her find and documented it in her notes.
The tingle of anticipation strummed through her. She couldn’t wait until she got to a place where she could take a good, close look at the contents. With great care she tucked the plastic bag inside her tote. She took some more photographs and continued to examine the nooks and crannies of the room, but found nothing more.
After about an hour she closed up the shack and went outside. The atmosphere had shifted dramatically. The air smelled electric, charged. She glanced up. The graying clouds were pregnant with water and hung low over the rooftops and trees. In the distance the low rumble of an impending summer storm growled out its warning.
Olivia hurried back up the rutted path toward the center of the site. The crew was working quickly to pack up and secure the structures. She stopped one of the men to ask where she could find Connor or Jake.
“Up in the office,” the man told her.
She went back to the office, knocked and stepped in. Both Jak
e and Connor were hovering over some sketches on Connor’s makeshift desk. They both looked up when she entered.
“Looks as if it’s going to storm,” she said inanely, sensing tension in the air.
“Guess you better be heading home, then,” Connor said, without looking at her.
Jake rocked his jaw but didn’t comment.
“I think I found something. It was hidden in a wall.”
Now she had Connor’s attention. He put down his pen and stared at her.
She dug in her bag and gently took out the plastic encased folder and held it up.
“What is it?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know yet. I need to open it carefully so as not to destroy it or its contents.”
Jake bobbed his head. “Great for you. Hope it’s something interesting.”
“I have a feeling that it is.” She was talking to Jake but she wanted some kind of reaction from Connor. She got nothing. What in the hell had Victor said to him?
“Is there anything that you need? We really have to tie up a few things here before the storm hits,” Connor said, still without looking at her.
Olivia’s lips tightened. She drew in a breath. “No. Nothing. Get home safely.” She turned and walked out.
* * *
“What the hell was that about?” Jake asked.
“Don’t know what you mean.” Connor rolled the blueprint and placed it in a plastic tube.
“You know what I mean. Just this morning you were almost singing her praises and now you act as though she gave you the clap.”
Connor snorted. “Let’s say that I got the real deal on Dr. Olivia Gray and I’m not about to get played again.”
Jake frowned. “When? How?”
“Her boss — who is a helluva lot more interested in her than in the work that she does — is here on behalf of The Institute — the outfit that she works for. Stopped by to see me this morning. His laundry list of Olivia’s attributes barely had anything to do with her skills on the job.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “Oh. And you believe him?’
“Why wouldn’t I? His ‘hints’ were clear. They’ve known each other for years, he said. Worked very closely together.”
Jake looked at him and shook his head. “Forget it, man. It’s your life. I’m going to check on the crew, then head out. See you in the morning?”
“Yeah. In the morning.”
Once Jake was gone, Connor plopped down in the wobbly chair. He ran his hand across his close-cut hair. All day he’d tried to get out of his head the things that Victor Randall had said about him and Olivia. He’d never come right out and said they’d slept together, but the message was clear as glass.
What did she see in him? He was an arrogant asshole. But the bigger question was did Olivia make it a habit of sleeping with the men that she worked with? Connor pushed back from the desk. What difference did it make anyway? It was just a sex thing between them. They were both adults. No ties. No commitments. Just the way he liked it.
Chapter 11
Olivia gathered her examination kit from the top of the bedroom closet. She brought it along with her camera bag into the kitchen, spread a special parchment paper on the counter and placed all the items on top of it. She took out two pairs of tweezers, white linen gloves, a magnifying glass, a video recorder and a small bottle that contained a preservative fluid. She dug in her camera bag and took out several lenses for extreme close-ups. Of course the technicians back at the lab would examine every detail, but she couldn’t wait until then. She should call Victor, but she wasn’t going to do that, either.
She set up the video recorder at an angle that would be able to capture everything that she did. Down the line, if this find was as valuable as she believed it to be, she didn’t want any issues about authenticity or altering of information. Everything that she did would be documented. She looked over the contents on the counter, then slipped on the white gloves, turned on the recorder and carefully removed the folder from the plastic bag. She laid it down on the parchment, got her camera and took several pictures. She turned it over and took more photographs. With the smaller of the tweezers she carefully undid the knot from the worn piece of fabric that held the folder closed.
Her heart was racing and her hand shook ever so slightly. She drew in a steadying breath and with the larger tweezers slowly lifted the cover. The pages inside were worn, cracked and yellowed with age, but under the circumstances appeared to be in good condition. Ideally these papers should be examined in a properly air-controlled room to avoid disintegration. She should stop. The command ran in her head even as she leaned closer to examine the top page. She grabbed her camera and took a series of shots.
My God, it was freedom papers for Elijah Dayton and his wife, Sarah Hailey. Excitement brewed in Olivia’s veins. This was a major discovery. Elijah Dayton had to be one of or the founder of Dayton Village.
What she wanted to do was tear through the sheaf of papers, but she knew she had to move slowly. The slightest wrong move could potentially destroy evidence. Meticulously she examined the contents of the folder. She found Elijah and Sarah’s wedding license. They were married in Virginia in 1890 and traveled north to Sag Harbor. It also contained the birth certificates of Elijah and Sarah’s six children, Joshua, Luke, John, Matthew, Ann and Ellen, and their children’s birth records. Elijah and Sarah had fifteen grandchildren, from what Olivia could determine.
There were other papers inside as well, receipts, notes and letters. The biggest find was what she was praying for. It was a receipt for $250. The receipt was made out to Elijah Dayton on July 6, 1891, for six acres of land, the land that eventually become Dayton Village.
Olivia plopped down in the chair. Her eyes scanned the contents that were spread out on the table. Her fingertips gripped the edge of the table. Incredible. Amazing. Tears welled in her eyes. Before her was the opening chapter of an untold story in American history. A free black man and his wife built an entire community that sustained itself for many years. But somehow, at some point, it all changed. The town virtually dried up and the people scattered.
Olivia used the tweezers to lift one of the grainy sepia-toned photographs for a closer look. It was the family photo of Elijah, Sarah and their children. The youngest was still an infant on Sarah’s lap, and the others were stairsteps.
There was so much Olivia wanted to know. She studied each face. How had Elijah earned the money to buy the land? Where had the other townspeople come from? Where were their descendants? And why had the town fallen apart? So much was there, yet so much was lost; like her life. A life filled with holes and unanswered questions.
Each research assignment that she took on throughout her career was an exercise in personal discovery. There was always a niggling hope in the back of her mind that she would somehow find some connection to someone, somewhere that would validate her existence. She never did, but it never stopped her from searching and hoping.
She took one last look at the contents on the table before delicately returning them to the leather folder and slipping it into the plastic bag. She turned off the video camera, and was on her way to her computer to upload the photos she’d taken when her cell phone rang.
She looked at the name and number on the face. Her pulse kicked up a notch. She pressed the green phone icon.
“Hello.”
“I wanted to make sure you got back safely. I didn’t see you before you left and the weather is pretty bad out,” Connor said.
So he did care. Olivia walked to the front window and pulled aside the curtain. The gray sky of earlier was nearly black. Wind bent the branches of trees while the rain fell so fast and furious that it bounced upward after hitting the ground. She’d been so intently involved in her work she hadn’t even realized how bad it had gotten. She squinted and was able to make out dim headlights. H
er stomach tightened.
She let the curtain fall back in place. “Wow, I had no idea.” She spun away from the window and tucked one arm beneath her breasts while she held the phone in her other hand. “Thanks for checking up on me.”
“Yeah, sure. Do you have flashlights? These storms tend to knock out the power around here.”
“I guess I should check.”
“I have a couple of extra in my trunk. I’m parked out front. I can bring them to you if you want.”
Olivia grinned but kept her voice even. “Really? You’re outside? Um, sure. Come in.”
She felt like doing the happy dance but instead she casually walked to the front door and pulled it open, only to be literally assaulted by the whipping rain. Connor came running to the front door with a small duffel bag in his hand. The short run didn’t matter. He was soaked.
“Come in. Come in. My goodness. It’s awful out there. You’re drenched. Let me get you a towel.”
She darted off to the bathroom and returned moments later with a towel. Connor was already stepping out of his shoes and had tugged off his shirt. When he stood, wet and bare chested, Olivia muttered an expletive under her breath.
“Here you go.” She handed him the towel.
“Thanks.” He mopped his face and hair, chest and arms.
“Come on in out of the hallway. I can toss your shirt in the dryer.” If he took off his pants…
“I probably should get out of these jeans, too, before I wet your furniture.”
She swallowed. “Right. Right. The bathroom is down the hall on the left.”
Connor strode past her and she caught a whiff of his scent that sent her libido on a wild ride. For a moment her eyes fluttered closed with longing.
Olivia walked into the living room. Connor returned with the towel wrapped around his waist and his soaking jeans in his hand. “If you show me where the dryer is I can just toss these in. Soon as they’re done I’ll be out of your hair.”
“No need to rush.” She came toward him and took the jeans. “The dryer is in the kitchen.” She led the way.
