House of the Golden Butterfly

by B. Groves

  She tried to fill in the holes as she went along when she didn’t find anything but left most of them open after she began tiring.

  Claire leaned against the railing as her mind wandered. She needed a better plan, a more efficient way of looking for her brother.

  She reached for her purse, which was still sitting on the porch and grabbed the butterfly brooch inside.

  “I need more,” she whispered into the air. “I need you to help me.”

  Claire blinked and found herself once again in David’s world.

  She found she was not in pain but freezing cold. Her breath coming out in puffs in front of her.

  “The police are still investigating, you need to leave,” a female voice scolded.

  Claire heard the voice loud and clear, but could not see where they were coming from.

  She turned to her left and found her brother eyeing her from the sidewalk.

  “David?”

  He waved his hand like he wanted her to follow him and Claire did so without question.

  His little feet pattered along the concrete and quieted when he hit the grass.

  He turned to look back at his sister to make sure she was behind him when he turned the corner of the house.

  Claire followed him and again found her grandmother standing outside the basement doors with the shadow.

  Claire walked up behind her brother as he silently watched the scene unfolding in front of them.

  “What are you doing here?” The shadow asked and ignored Rose.

  Claire thought the voice was a younger woman. This had to be the Sue person she saw pictures of with her mother.

  “Who is the shadow, David?” Claire asked. She didn’t want to disturb the scene, but she wanted to know.

  “Bad woman,” David said.

  Claire scoffed. Who was this bad woman? She stayed quiet while she learned more about what happened to her brother.

  “I’m protecting your sorry ass,” Rose hissed to the shadow. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  The shadow stepped back as if it wanted to hit Rose, but didn’t. “No, you’re protectin’ your own assets.” The shadowy figure laughed at their own joke. “Assets, ass, same thing. No difference accordin’ to you.”

  Rose turned away from the shadow and closed her eyes. Claire was close enough to see the tears running down her cheeks.

  “Everything,” she sobbed. “I’ve lost everything because of you.”

  “Where did you put him?” The shadow asked.

  Rose turned sharply towards the shadow. “I will never tell you. Never. He’s safe, and he’ll never be found. You don’t have to worry.”

  “She saw it. I know she did,” The shadow said.

  “No, she didn’t. She doesn’t remember,” Rose said. “After I took her to school and told her David drowned, she never said a word otherwise.”

  “I ought to make sure,” the shadow turned to walk away and Rose grabbed its arm and held it back.

  “You are not going near her. Do you hear me? I’m sending her away from here. As soon as things settle down and that damn detective gets off my ass, she will leave,” Rose explained.

  “Then what? What if she remembers?”

  “You shouldn’t have killed him,” Rose sobbed again letting go of the shadow’s arm and wiped her eyes.

  “I didn’t mean…” The shadow stuttered. “He was in the wrong place at the wrong time… I didn’t want this.”

  Claire could see Rose’s rage directed at the shadow.

  “I should have never brought you back here. Biggest mistake of my life. You’ve always been and always will be a failure,” Rose said.

  The shadow then grabbed Rose by the neck. Claire gasped at the action. She turned to David who stood solemnly next to her.

  She noticed he’d taken her hand and held it while the scene played out. His skin was clammy and cold. She smiled down at him, but he was concentrating on the past.

  The shadow shoved Rose against the wall and pinned her there. Rose struggled against the shadow but to no avail.

  “I would watch my words if I were you. You might just end up like Janie and David,” The shadow warned.

  “One day you’ll pay for what you’ve done,” Rose said, her voice shaking with each word. “One day we’ll all pay for what we’ve done.”

  “No, I won’t, because you’ll always be there to help me cover my tracks. You’ll always pay off any suspicious person or anyone that snoops around about David. Won’t you?”

  When Rose stayed quiet, the shadow squeezed Rose’s throat.

  “Won’t you, mother?”

  The shadow spat the word “mother” as if it was poison on her tongue.

  Rose nodded with tears flowing down her cheeks. “I have no choice,” she whispered.

  The scene faded in front of Claire. Her mouth dropped, her hand squeezed David’s in shock.

  She turned to look down at her little brother. No, this can’t be. She was always told her mother was an only child.

  All these years, Mary and Clay led her to believe Janie was an only child like her dad.

  How could this be? Who was the mysterious shadow figure?

  As if David could read her thoughts, he cocked his head to look up at Claire.

  His face expressionless.

  “Aunt Sue,” he said.

  Claire knelt in front of her brother. “We had an aunt?”

  David nodded. “Yes.”

  “What was her name?” Claire had to make sure. She had to make sure the person in the picture was her aunt and not some random friend or family member.

  “Aunt Sue,” David repeated.

  “Mommy’s sister?”

  “Why don’t you remember?” David asked innocently. Claire could tell in his young mind he didn’t understand her lack of memories.

  “I don’t know, sweetie. I’m trying to remember what happened.”

  “They took you away,” David said, his expression turning somber.

  “You mean Nana and Papa. They were daddy’s mommy and daddy. They raised me. They always missed you,” Claire explained. “But, I’m back now, and I’m back for you.”

  That seemed to please the young boy, and he smiled at her.

  “David, why can’t you show me, Aunt Sue?”

  David had to think it over. He put a small, chubby finger to his mouth in thought.

  “She’s not here,” he answered.

  “What do you mean?”

  David pointed to the ground and said, “She’s not here.”

  Claire realized what her brother was saying to her. The shadow woman was alive.

  “You mean she’s not in this world,” Claire said.

  David nodded. “She’s in your world.”

  “Has she been here since Mom-mom died?” Claire asked.

  David nodded again. “Lots of times.”

  Claire tried controlling the fear rising in her gut. Bile rose in her throat almost choking her.

  She had to put her hands on David’s shoulders to steady herself.

  David noticed the fear in Claire’s eyes.

  “Be careful, Claire,” he said.

  “Where is she now?”

  David shrugged. It was clear he didn’t know where their “Aunt Sue” was right at that moment.

  David smiled again and said, “You’re not digging in the right place.”

  Claire blinked as she processed the information.

  She let go of David’s shoulders as he turned and walked over to the basement doors.

  He pointed down and said, “Dig.”

  Before Claire could say anything else, she blinked and was thrust back into the living world.

  She stood in front of the basement doors with her phone ringing in her pocket.

  Still trying to process the information David told her, she looked down to see Mac’s name on the caller ID.

  21.

  M ac heard the stress in Claire’s voice. She tried her best to hide her tone,
but she failed—miserably.

  Her breathing came out hard and fast as she talked. She either found something or had been doing hard labor, or both.

  He caught her digging up her yard so this had to be it.

  She sounded happy to hear from him, at least.

  “Are you sure you’re doing okay?” Mac asked. He knew he was pressuring her, but he wanted to know if she found anything new.

  Well… since he was sitting in front of his work computer and staring at David Westcott’s case again.

  “I’m fine,” Claire said. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow night.”

  Mac smiled. “Me too. What are your plans for tonight?”

  He heard Claire take a deep breath and say, “Oh… I don’t know. I’m finished my newest outline, but have to get the fingers moving in the story now.”

  Mac shook his head. She’d been searching for more answers. He wished she would be honest about it.

  Did she discover something?

  He hoped by tomorrow night she would open up about any discoveries she made. He knew first hand about how shutting down your emotions, and keeping secrets locked away could ruin one’s life.

  He debated trying to pry it out of her on their date tomorrow night.

  Mac glanced at the computer screen as more thoughts ran through his head.

  Mac ended the conversation and he could hear the relief in Claire’s voice when he said he needed to get back to work.

  Although she sounded excited about them going out the next evening.

  Mac put his cell phone down and stared at Kevin’s notes.

  “Nothing’s changed since you looked at it a few minutes ago,” Elijah said leaning over him.

  “I know,” Mac said.

  “Man, you like this woman,” Elijah said with a grin.

  Mac turned to give Elijah a death stare.

  “I thought about asking one of the detectives to glance at the case again, but they’re too busy,” Mac commented.

  Elijah planted himself in the seat Mac used to book his “clients” as he called them.

  “That case was Kevin’s worst nightmare,” Elijah said rubbing his chin. “He always said grandma did it, but there was never enough forensics on it. Without a body, it’s tough to prove.”

  “He said in his notes that bodies float because of decomposition and that boy should have been found. Hell, we’ve found plenty of them over the years,” Mac said.

  Elijah nodded. “I heard your conversation. Do you think she’s remembering something?”

  “I don’t know. This could be a conflict of interest for me if she does, but she hasn’t said much,” Mac answered.

  Oh, Claire said a lot without words. That was for sure.

  Elijah shrugged. “If she does, who knows what’s true and what isn’t from her memory. Kids are unreliable.”

  “True.”

  Elijah said his goodbye for the night, leaving Mac to an empty room since the second shift was well underway and things were quiet.

  He once again read Kevin’s interview with Claire.

  She woke up that morning, said goodbye to her brother, and went to school.

  Yes, she saw him before he left. He was playing with his toys in the kitchen.

  Kevin could only state the facts in the report, but his personal notes insisted she was coached.

  Mac looked again and found something that caught his attention.

  Rose had a woman working for her named Sue. Sue was a housekeeper who recently quit due to family issues.

  It might have been nothing of importance, but Mac mentally noted this Sue person.

  What was Sue’s last name?

  Mac found Kevin’s notes about Sue. “Sue Baker,” he said.

  Kevin tried to contact this Sue person, but the phone number Rose gave him had been disconnected.

  Mac searched his mind. He lived in this town his whole life and didn’t recall a Sue Baker, but it wasn’t impossible.

  He wondered if he should bring this up to Claire discover if she remembered this Sue Baker being the housekeeper for Kinsey House.

  Mac rubbed his eyes. He wanted to go home and get some sleep.

  He would have to push aside his nagging feelings for now.

  He looked at his phone and found the usual text from Julie telling him she would be visiting around December 22nd this year.

  Mac felt the flood of regret drown him as stared at her text for a moment.

  Christmas was around the corner, and if had fate dealt them a good hand, he’d be spending his time right now shopping for presents for Jacob instead of standing over a tiny grave.

  He sighed, answered Julie and placed his phone in his pocket.

  He was determined to have a good time with Claire the next night no matter what was happening in either of their lives.

  Mac turned off his desk computer and packed it in for the night.

  Kevin noted that Rose said the housekeeper was paid under the table in cash, so no records of canceled checks or any other paper trail were recovered about the mysterious Sue Baker.

  Kevin hit a dead end with that lead. He was frustrated when he never tracked her down to question her and questioned if Rose had made her up or she was hiding the woman.

  Mac’s instinct flared when he thought about the housekeeper. He felt he was channeling Kevin when he thought about Sue Baker. She was the key to this case.

  22.

  C laire hung up the phone with Mac and walked up the stairs to continue her mission inside the attic. She looked at old pictures trying to find the elusive Aunt Sue.

  She took out the one she already had and she could clearly see the resemblance between her mother and Sue, the more she studied the picture.

  She tried finding something, anything that would give her a clue to Sue’s whereabouts. Was she alive? Was she dead? Did she live in town? Where was this woman?

  Her mind was in overdrive trying to recall her aunt’s face and wondered how she could forget such an important part of her life.

  When David called her Aunt Sue, Claire wondered if that was a nickname of a good friend of the family. Perhaps, a distant cousin.

  But, it wasn’t.

  Claire studied the one picture she had of her mother and Aunt Sue. They were sisters even with the different hair colors.

  She placed it next to her and dug through the pictures. She located a box with important papers organized inside.

  It was some of the family’s official records. From her grandparents’ birth certificates to her grandfather’s and her mother’s death certificates.

  Claire already had Rose’s death certificate in her possession.

  She searched through every piece of paperwork and finally threw them back into the box, frustrated that no clues surfaced.

  No birth record of Aunt Sue surfaced in the box or elsewhere in the attic.

  Sue Kinsey? Susan Kinsey?

  Claire already tried searching birth records online.

  She located many names matching, but none around the time that her mysterious aunt was born.

  Claire sat back on the floor inside the attic and ran her fingers through her hair. She dug deep within the pits of her mind, but all she could see were bits and pieces from the time she and her brother lived here.

  Perhaps she’d been going about this the wrong way.

  She would keep trying to find her brother’s body, that was non-negotiable, but she needed a new approach. She needed to grab onto to something that would trigger a memory within the dark corners of her mind that would make all the puzzle pieces fit.

  Claire made her way down to Rose’s room to try to find a clue there.

  Claire would rather find her brother. The thought of his remains thrown carelessly into the dirt, buried and forgotten sent emotions rippling through her that made her want to punch a hole through the wall.

  Anger and frustration swelled within her chest and she barged into Rose’s room ready to tear it apart to look for any kind of clue.


  And that’s what she did.

  By the time Claire was finished, the mattress sat half on and half off the bed, clothes were strewn everywhere, and Rose’s personal items were scattered on the floor.

  It looked like a tornado twisted its way through Rose’s room.

  Claire sat at Rose’s desk and sifted through old bank statements she found in one of the drawers. She grabbed her laptop to verify items on the statements now that she had control of the bank accounts left to her.

  Rose donated a lot to charities over the years, and Claire verified most of them. She also verified the secret account that held the money used to pay for her schooling. There were accounts on there that she couldn’t reconcile on her own, but she would ask Scott—Rose’s accountant—later.

  The taxes, the statements, the investments, and the donations weren’t anything Claire hadn’t already seen.

  She scooted closer to the lights since it was now late at night. She ignored her empty stomach growling in protest over not eating dinner.

  She took a sip of her bottled water to calm her stomach for a little while longer when she grabbed another statement off the floor.

  Her eyes narrowed as she read the statement. She turned it over in her hand, read the back and turned it over again.

  It read as donation money, but it was separate from all the other accounts.

  It was a lot of money. The receiver only read in an abbreviation and an account number.

  S.S.B.C.S.C. Charitable Foundation.

  Claire frowned. The amount stayed the same. The donation of a substantial amount of money was donated to this so-called charity once every six months and started close to fifteen years ago.

  Claire punched in the name on her keyboard and tried searching for the foundation on a search engine. She was surprised that no search results came up for her on Google.

  She tried changing the letters and other local charities, but nothing was a match.

  She set her laptop down and looked over the paperwork again trying to understand where this money went.

  She looked up and stared at the wall. Was this some kind of secret account for a person?

  The mysterious long-lost aunt?

  Putting the paper down, Claire realized her brain was fried. She would research it more once she met with Scott. He was kind enough to give her an appointment the day before Thanksgiving, so she wouldn’t bother him before then.