by Lynn Cahoon
Matt and Darla left to grab the food around one and Amy and I climbed the stairs together so we could set up a table for the buffet when they got back. As we paused at the top, I noticed the railing had been replaced at some point. The weathered boards made it hard to tell how long this section had been up, compared to the rest of the rails. I shook the repaired section lightly, but it seemed solid. More solid than the rest of the staircase.
Amy turned back and looked at me. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know. Just trying to figure out what happened to Maryanne. Why would you leave this slice of paradise?” I could see miles and miles of ocean, blue and sparkling. “Too bad this porch isn’t big enough for a few chairs. We could sit out here and watch the sun set.”
“I don’t know. It looks pretty old.” Amy pointed to the railing. “The caretaker guy must have replaced that section already. I bet if you restored this place it would cost a fortune. No wonder they’re tearing it down. It’s all about the bottom line with those guys.”
“I guess.” I followed her into the house. “This is the same group that tried to force Miss Emily out of her house before she died.”
“See, I told you. They have no morals.” She pulled a beer out of the cooler. “Want one?”
“I want one of Sadie’s cookies first. Then I’ll go for the salt and the beer.” Grabbing a chocolate chip, I joined Amy on the couch. “Having all this food available all the time is killing me. I’m going to gain ten pounds by the time we leave here tomorrow.”
“One, it’s impossible to gain that much in a weekend. And two, you’re surrounded by treats all day at the shop. Why is here different?”
I didn’t even think before I answered. “Because my aunt’s watching me at the shop. I swear, every time I decide to take a break and have a brownie, she comes down from the apartment to talk. I think she has the shop bugged.”
Amy’s laughter was interrupted by a loud bang in the next room. We ran to the library and when we entered, all the books that had been on the west wall of shelves were now stacked neatly on the other side of the room next to the shelves. Amy stopped just inside the doorway.
“Tell me you guys found it this way earlier today.” A lone book dropped neatly on the last pile. The bookshelves on the west were completely empty. “And did you just see that?”
“I saw something.” I walked past her and went to the shelves. “Why would someone take the books off this shelf?”
“You don’t think it was the ghost, do you? What was her name, Maryanne?” Amy grabbed my arm. “This is stupid. There’s no such thing as ghosts. Someone’s playing with us. Let’s go get the others.”
“We’ll be fine.” I ran my hands up and down the shelves until I felt it. Pressing the button, I heard a click and the shelving unit moved out an inch. Pulling it farther open, I looked into the opening. The only thing I saw was darkness. I stepped back and crossed the room to my friend. “On second thought, go get Greg and ask him to bring me a flashlight. I think we might have found another clue.”
As I waited for Greg and Amy to return, I picked up the last book that we’d seen stacked. I read aloud the title. “The Complete Edition of Grimm’s Fairy Tales.” The ones I’d read were more about the grim and less about our Disneyfied remakes of the stories. No fairy godmothers lived in these stories, granting wishes and making happily-ever-after’s come true. Had Maryanne read these stories and thought about her missing Ariel? What had happened to the child? I had just started to page through the book when the rest of the group burst into the room.
“Whoa.” Greg stared at the books on the floor. “Did you move all of those yourself?”
“Did you bring a flashlight?” I ignored his question, knowing that Amy would have already told them the story of the floating book. Greg just didn’t like things he couldn’t explain. And this house and our experiences this weekend were definitely something he couldn’t explain. I walked over to the opening and reached out my hand for the flashlight.
Greg and Justin pulled the shelf to make the opening larger. Wiping away a cobweb, I could see that it was a second set of shelves hidden in the wall where the insulation would be in a normal house. I pulled out the only item that was on any of the shelves, a wooden box.
Blowing the dust off the box, I saw an engraving. I read the words out loud. “Maryanne’s Treasures.”
“Open it.” I could feel Amy vibrating next to me.
I tried to open it but the lid didn’t budge. Holding the box up, I saw a small keyhole. “It’s locked. Anyone find a key lately?”
“If it’s not one puzzle, it’s another.” Justin reached out for the box. “It looks like a 1950s-era replica hope chest. They gave these things out at graduation to entice families to buy a hope chest for the young woman.”
“So what’s a hope chest?” Amy touched the top of the box. “It’s pretty.”
Justin smiled at her, apparently charmed by the question. “A hope chest is a piece of furniture that holds a woman’s trousseau. Quilts, dishes, handmade items, all the things she needs to set up a home when she gets married.”
“Well, isn’t that archaic? What, guys got to look at it before the engagement just to make sure the girl had done her job preparing for her perfect life with him?” Amy looked ready to take on the world.
“It wasn’t like that. You make this charming bit of history sound like a bad thing.” Justin sat the box down on the table. “Anyway, before we get involved in a discussion of the role of woman in the 1950s, let’s focus on this key. Anyone have any clues?”
“Maybe she’ll give us a clue like she did for the box.” Amy glanced at the books. “Unless one of you wants to take responsibility for the book moving?”
“Someone had to do that.” Greg didn’t even look at the books. “There’s no way a ghost moved three, four stacks of books out of the way. I think we’re being played.”
“Played, led, whatever it is, it’s exciting.” Amy started opening desk drawers. “It’s like being in one of those treasure rooms. You solve one mystery and it leads you to the next one. We just have to think like Maryanne.”
“Or think like the guy who set up this game.” Greg glanced out the window at the driveway. “What do we know about the caretaker? Maybe this is his doing.”
“Darla set this up with him a couple of weeks ago. She’s been working with him on the house sale. I guess the guy’s not too happy to be losing his job. The trust paid him a nice little salary to watch out for the house. Which is probably why it’s out of money now.” Esmeralda stood at the doorway, taking in the scene. “My, my . . . somebody’s been busy.”
“We found that.” I pointed to the box. “It’s hers.”
“Of course it is. This whole house is hers. You all go try to track down ghosts with that EMF meter and talking to the dead.” Greg rolled his eyes. “I’m going to go make some calls and see what I can find out about this caretaker. Like his name.”
“David Young.” I called after him as I watched Greg leave the room. I started to follow, but Esmeralda put a hand on my arm.
“It’s hard for him to accept things that aren’t black and white. Let him do his type of investigation. You’re needed here. Apparently, she feels a connection with you. She’s showing you what we need to learn.”
“Great, just what I needed: a new ghost best friend.” I smiled at Amy. “Sorry, girl, we’re adding a third to our Sunday brunch dates.”
“She won’t eat a lot. I think we’ll be fine.” Amy sniffed the air. “Speaking of eating, I think Darla and Matt are back with lu-nner. Or Di-unch. I’m not sure what we should call it.”
“How about supper? My mom used to use that term.” Justin came in between Amy and me and took our arms in his own. “Let’s just not be late. I hate being the last one to the party.”
As we helped Darla unload the food, I asked her
about the caretaker. Greg was setting up the potato salad in a bowl of ice to keep it cold.
“David? He’s been around here for all my life. He’s kind of a fixture. Besides taking care of this place, he also does handyman work. I used to have him come in and help me with the winery, that is, before Matt started working with me.” Darla grabbed a pile of paper plates and napkins and took stock of the table. “I think we’re all set up. Why are you asking about him?”
“What’s his last name?” Greg started to fill his plate.
“I told you. It’s David Young.” Maybe he was just hungry and that was what made him sound so grumpy. “We’re wondering if he had something to do with the strange things that have happened this weekend.”
“Like the thing last night?” Darla looked confused. “He locked us in but I saw him leave before we did the Esmeralda thing.”
“Go look in the library. We’ve had some remodeling since you’ve been gone getting food.” Greg sat on the couch. “Jill, why don’t you show her what you found?”
“Okay.” I stepped back toward the library but when I looked inside, the books had all been returned to the shelves. The shelf still stood open and the box was on the table, but there were no stacks of books. “What the heck?”
Darla walked past me and picked up the box. “It’s lovely. Where did you find it?”
Chapter 6
“Greg, come in here.” I stood at the doorway. I was starting to believe his story that someone was messing with us.
“I’m eating.” I could tell by the sound of his voice, he hadn’t even moved from his spot on the couch.
I stepped out of the library and back into the living room. “Please. Amy and Justin too. I need you all to see this.”
Greg sat the plate down on the side table and stood. “As you wish.”
Now I knew he was mad. He got that overly polite persona anytime he didn’t want to say what he really wanted to say. “You’re going to want to see this.”
“What now?” Justin hurried to the library doorway. “Did you find the key?”
Darla came out of the library with the box. “No key here. What is this?”
“It’s an ancient symbol of female servitude.” Amy passed Darla on the way to the library. “What’s going on in there?”
“I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.” Darla shrugged, looking at me.
When Greg and I joined Amy and Justin just inside the doorway, Amy turned to me, her eyes wide.
“What the heck is going on here?” Amy said, stepping closer to Justin and grabbing his hand. “How did the books all get put back?”
“Well, it wasn’t magic.” Greg glanced around the room. “Where’s Jake and Esmeralda?”
I took a step back and looked in the living room. Darla had set the box on the coffee table and was getting food. Matt was sitting alone on the couch, eating his chicken.
“Something I should see?” He held a drumstick out from just taking a bite.
“No, you’re fine. Have you seen Esmeralda or Jake?”
Matt pointed to the kitchen. “She went that way, but I haven’t seen him.”
I moved toward the kitchen, remembering the shiny clean version that had been in my dream. This one was aged and dusty and felt just a little sad. But there were no dream people or ghosts that I could see. Esmeralda wasn’t there either, but the door to the cellar was open. I crossed the room and started down the stairs, hoping to run into both of them on their way out. No such luck.
A bare bulb lighted my way down the wooden stairs into the main room. A damp, salty smell permeated the room and I felt a tickle on the back of my neck. Brushing away what I hoped was just nerves and not a spider, I made my way to the potions room. Creaking open the door, I saw Esmeralda studying a book with a dozen or so bottles on the table around her.
She looked up as I stepped into the room. “I feel like there’s something here we’re missing.”
“Have you seen Jake?” Esmeralda had obviously been down here for several minutes working on the spell or potion she was playing with. And there was no one here helping her. She couldn’t have gotten the books back on the shelves and ran down here in the time since I’d last seen her.
“He’s in the attic. He feels like there’s something there we haven’t found that’s going to open up Maryanne’s secrets. I don’t know if an unassisted human eye can find what she hid.” She pointed to the book. “I found this spell that’s supposed to hide things in plain sight. I just can’t seem to find the reversal spell. And if it would wear off, we would have already been able to see it. No spell lasts ten years.”
I guess I didn’t know if that was true or not, but I’d leave the witchcraft divining to her. “The books got moved back. Greg thinks there’s someone in the house who’s messing with us. Would Jake do that?”
Esmeralda stopped what she was doing and turned to face me. She pushed her hair out of her now too-serious face. “No, Jill. Jake wouldn’t play games with this. He’s as invested as the rest of us are in finding out the story behind Maryanne’s disappearance.”
“Why is that?” I wondered, but she ignored my question and turned back to the worktable.
“I’ve got to figure this out. Now that we’re locked back in the house for the night, I feel like I only have a little time left to reach her.” She ran her finger down the page and then stopped. Not turning toward me, she sighed. “Just go find Jake. You’ll see he’s solid.”
“The food’s here.” When I didn’t get a response, I turned away and headed out of the cellar. I wasn’t sure Esmeralda was right, but even I felt the pressure of the ticking clock. This was our last night in Maryanne’s house. Then we’d be back home to our normal lives. We could search the records, but we’d never have this kind of access to the woman’s life before she disappeared. I felt like the box held our answers but we needed the key to get inside.
Every time we solved one puzzle, another popped up. I paused at the bottom of the stairs before I went up into the light. This place didn’t feel creepy or bad, just unused and a little sad. I looked toward the door where Esmeralda worked. Could she find the missing piece? The clue that would lead us to find out what really happened? Or was she just chasing dreams and ghosts like I was?
When I returned to the living room, Greg and the others were eating. He looked up as I walked through the door. “Did you find them?”
“Esmeralda.” I left it at that and went to make my plate. If Jake was hungry, he’d smell the fried chicken sooner or later. “She’s working in the cellar.”
“That place is creepy.” Darla added more potato salad to her plate. “I wouldn’t want to be down there. I guess Matt’s going to have to clean that place out when we do the last run-through.”
“Hey, why me?” Matt pulled Darla next to him. “I thought we were in this thing together?”
“Yeah, not when it comes to dark, damp, creepy places. That’s when you’re my white knight and take care of things for me.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Aren’t Esmeralda and Jake eating?”
“I told her food was here. She seemed distracted.” I sat with my own plate and started eating. I was more nervous than hungry, but I knew if I didn’t eat now, I’d regret it later.
“What about Jake?” Greg asked.
“What about me?” Jake strolled into the living room. He glanced at the table. “I’m starving. Where’s Em?”
“She’s downstairs in the potions room concocting a spell.” I couldn’t believe I said that sentence with a straight face. “I told her there was food.”
“That woman will work for days without eating if you let her.” He filled his plate and sat on a chair next to Greg. “I’ll take her a plate after I eat. She won’t like it, but she’ll eat.”
“So you and Esmeralda grew up together? Were you in a children’s home or a foster situation?”
Greg didn’t look at Jake; he focused on his plate.
“Foster. But it was long term. The family who took us in, well, they had a lot of kids. And a lot of adults around to watch us and help raise us. It was more like a family than a placement. I still remember Thanksgiving at the house. Mama Elliott would roast a turkey and we’d have all this food that others had donated. She could make the best meals out of what people gave us. But on the holidays, the donations became more elaborate.”
“What was Esmeralda like as a kid?” Darla sat her empty plate down and watched Jake. “I’ve known her for years, but I just can’t imagine her as a little girl.”
“She was bright and fun and adventuresome. One time when we were out on Bourbon Street, s—”
“They don’t want to hear about my past.” Esmeralda stood at the door, glaring at Jake. “Besides, your stories always seem to favor you as the hero. I don’t remember our lives being that easy.”
“Hey, Em. Food’s ready.” He flashed her a grin. “I can always count on you coming in to add a little realism to my tall tales. For some reason, she always knows when I’m talking about her.”
“It’s my gift.” She crossed the room and filled her plate. “I think I found a clue.”
“Wait, what?” I almost choked on the bite of chicken I’d taken. “Down in the cellar?”
“I think the key is in the attic. The spell did a cloak but it’s delicate. It couldn’t be somewhere that people would jostle it or the spell would evaporate. The only place that she didn’t use was the attic.” She tore off a piece of chicken. “This is really good.”
“You learned all that from a spell.” I was impressed.
“Well, that and the note in her spell book. She really wasn’t having any luck with the spell so she hid the key upstairs behind a picture.” Esmeralda laughed. “What, you think all my information comes from the other side? Sometimes it’s as easy as reading what’s on a page. Or what’s not.”
“Okay, we finish eating and then go search the attic.” I grinned. Sometimes stating the obvious made me feel more in control. “We have a plan.”
