The Book of Candlelight

by Ellery Adams

  As they walked down the hallway toward the kitchen, Nora asked Patty about the suitcases at the bottom of the stairs.

  “The Gentrys are checking out,” said Patty. “They would have left earlier, but they stayed a little longer because of . . . Micah. They’ve been so nice to us. And to the Fosters. We’ll be sorry to see them go. At least, we still have Sheldon.”

  “He might be here until you open for bookings in June. It’ll take him some time to find a house.”

  Patty filled an electric kettle and told Nora how thrilled she and Lou had been when Sheldon said that he’d decided to make Miracle Springs his home.

  “If you hadn’t hired him, we would have made up a position for him. It would break our hearts to see him leave, especially after losing Micah.”

  June made a sympathetic noise. “This inn is more intimate than a big hotel. I can see how you’d get attached to your guests.”

  Turning on the kettle, Patty said, “I don’t think we’ll ever forget our first guests. The rain brought them to us. Stuck inside together, we bonded pretty fast. And even though Micah spent lots of time in his room, he would seek out Lou or me and pitch in with whatever project we were working on. He’d paint, clean, do yard work. Sheldon’s our resident comedian and our shoulder to cry on, and the Gentrys have supported everyone with kind words and little treats. They gave us this tea the other day after I told them about the garden I was planning for Lou.”

  Nora took the tin from Patty. “Rose Petal tea? I’ve never had it.”

  “It’s supposed to help you sleep,” said June. “Didn’t work for me, but nothing does. I have to get outside and move. That’s the only thing that’ll give me a few more hours of z’s.”

  Patty’s face brightened. “Are you the Cat Lady?”

  “Thank you for not adding ‘crazy’ to that title.” June spread her hands. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s not a role I auditioned for. The cats are the crazy ones, not me.”

  “I want to get a cat, but Lou’s worried that our guests could have allergies or a general aversion to cats.” Patty reclaimed the tea tin and scooped loose tea into a strainer. “Honestly, I can’t imagine cooking breakfast for anyone who hates cats. I don’t understand people who hate animals. Any animal. It’s an automatic strike against them in my book.”

  June told Patty the story of how she’d inherited a herd of cats. Next, they spoke of sleep remedies. Nora didn’t have much to contribute to either conversation, so she placed Rose’s diary on the kitchen table and listened to the other women talk.

  As the kettle came to a boil, Patty pointed at the old book.

  “Lou’s in her room. Do you want to take that to her? I could put your tea in a pot and give you a tray. It’s definitely cookie time too. There’s no sense in having tea without a cookie.”

  This woman cannot be a killer, Nora thought.

  But she’d come to the inn to shake things up, and no matter how much she liked Patty and Lou, she had to follow through with her plan. For Marie’s sake.

  Though the tray Patty gave Nora had two handles and was easy to carry, she had no idea how to keep it balanced and knock on Lou’s door at the same time.

  What would a Julian Fellowes butler do?

  Improvising, she thumped the door with her elbow and said, “Lou? It’s Mr. Carson.”

  Lou opened the door and laughed. “Well done. I’ll keep you in mind if we ever offer room service.”

  Glancing down at the tray, Lou saw Rose’s diary. Her face drained of all color.

  Without looking at Nora, she pointed down the hall. “The last room on the right is a temporary storage room, but there are two chairs and a little table facing the window. It’s a pretty spot.”

  Nora followed Lou to the room in question. Lou didn’t close the door behind them. Instead, she hurried to clear papers from the small table. She then took the tea tray from Nora and carefully set it down.

  “Oh, Patty made shortbread. My favorite.” Lou poured the tea.

  Nora took her cup and brought it to her nose. The steam carried a faint scent of roses. “I’ve never had rose tea before, but it seems perfect for this room. A hundred years ago, we would have been looking down on Rose’s garden, right?”

  Lou’s eyes strayed to the diary. “Patty told me that she sent that home with you. I guess you know Rose’s secret now.”

  “And yours.”

  Nora didn’t know who was more stunned by her comment, her or Lou. It had just slipped out.

  “Having Cherokee blood isn’t something I need to hide,” Lou said in a conversational tone.

  “No, it’s something to celebrate. Is that why you bought Danny’s pottery?”

  Lou picked up a shortbread cookie. She broke off a corner with her fingers and popped the piece into her mouth. After a sip of tea, Lou leaned back in her chair and sighed.

  “I lied to you about that,” she said. “The night you asked if I’d met Danny and I told you I’d never heard of him? That wasn’t true. I met him in the flea market, but I knew who he was long before then. My son gave me one of those DNA test kits for my birthday a few years ago, and when I saw the results, I was floored. And fascinated. I started searching genealogical records to learn more about my colorful roots. Finding that”—she pointed at the diary—“confirmed my hunch that Danny and I were cousins.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  “I never got the chance.” Lou shook her head with regret. “We only talked twice. The first time was at the flea market. The second time was here. He brought me the blackware and I wrote him a check. I wanted to tell Danny about our connection, but it wasn’t the right time.”

  Nora glanced at the unopened moving boxes stacked against the wall. “Are you a pottery collector? Or did you just want Danny’s pieces?”

  “I’ve never bought a piece of pottery in my life,” said Lou. “But I felt guilty. This house could have belonged to Danny’s mother or grandmother. Instead, it was sold. I was lucky enough to buy it, but I knew I couldn’t be happy here without making amends to the Cherokee side of my family tree. Rose never married Chea, but he was the real patriarch of my family.”

  “Did you know about him before you read her diary?”

  “I’ve been wondering about Chea Sequah for a long time. Right before she passed away, my mother gave me a painting of a handsome Cherokee man. I’d never seen the painting before. It had been wrapped up and stored in some closet for years. Anyway, Rose was the artist. I decided to update the frame, which is how I saw the poetry couplet written on the back of the canvas.”

  Nora remembered Rose’s portrait. “‘By sun and candlelight, I love thee purely.’ ”

  Lou’s smile was brilliant. “Yes. That was part of the couplet. The important part.”

  “What did Danny say when he learned that you two were related?”

  “That’s just it. I never got the chance to tell him.” Lou’s hand started shaking. A trickle of pale brown liquid sloshed over the rim of her teacup, across her saucer, and onto her jeans. Lou frowned at the spot and kept talking. “Danny came over with five pieces of blackware. I bought them all, using money budgeted for renovations. I asked if he wanted to stay for coffee, but he was in a hurry. He was planning to cook a surprise dinner for Marie. I didn’t want to tell him about our connection when he was rushed and distracted, so I asked if he had more pieces of art pottery. He said that he had a few boxes, and I told him that I wanted to buy every piece. I asked him to deliver them to the inn the following Sunday.”

  Nora remembered what Beatrice had said. “Danny told another flea market vendor that a stranger had come into his life. That was you. He said that he didn’t know if you were a gift or a curse. Since you offered to buy his most expensive pieces, why would he have mixed feelings about you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because I asked him to bring the pottery and his wife. I wanted them to join us for dinner the Sunday he died. I wanted to meet Danny’s wife, and I wanted Danny and Marie to meet P
atty. I wanted us to sit down together—to get to know each other. I have no idea why Danny drove to Cherokee Rock. I never asked to meet him there. And definitely not so early in the morning. I asked him to come here for supper.”

  If Lou was telling the truth, then someone must have sent Danny a message changing the time and place of the meeting. Had it been Patty? Had she been trying to keep Lou from spending funds earmarked for the inn?

  “I can understand why this house means the world to you. You’re a Lattimer. But what about Patty? Is she equally invested in this place?”

  Lou seemed surprised by the direction the conversation had taken. She broke off another piece of shortbread and ate it. “Patty and I have been best friends for almost twenty years. My husband passed away and Patty’s been divorced for ages. We came here because we didn’t want to spend our golden years in a rocking chair. We both wanted to create a warm and welcoming home for people away from home. Patty and I both have grown children, but they’re very busy and don’t have much time for us. We still have lots to give to people, and we decided that we’d be quite happy spoiling strangers. So yes, Patty is an equal partner in this dream.”

  Nora wanted to believe Lou. She wanted her to be innocent of wrongdoing. She wanted Patty to be innocent. She wanted to see their dream realized. She wanted to tour the inn when its transformation was complete and be dazzled by its beauty. She wanted to see the rose garden in bloom and to know that Rose Lattimer’s spirit of hospitality lived on through this pair of female caretakers.

  Trying to organize her thoughts, Nora looked around the room. Her gaze fell on a box labeled ART SUPPLIES. “Do you paint?”

  “Just walls. Patty’s the artist.”

  Nora thought of the bird at Cherokee Rock. Of the Cardinal Red spray paint. “What medium?”

  Again, Lou was taken aback by the abrupt change in subject. “Watercolor. Landscapes, for the most part. She’s very good, but it’ll be months before she’ll have time to paint again.”

  Unless she already painted her most memorable work. A red bird on a rock, Nora thought.

  “I’m sorry about lying to you,” Lou said, reclaiming Nora’s attention. “I didn’t want you to think I had a hand in Danny’s death. I didn’t want you—or anyone else—to know that I was supposed to meet him on the day he died. I was scared that I’d be blamed. I know I should have come forth sooner. I’ve since told the sheriff everything I just told you.”

  “I guess you and Patty both had rock-solid alibis,” Nora said. “After all, you had a houseful of guests.”

  Relaxing a little, Lou picked up the teapot and topped off her cup. “We sure did. The rain had everyone feeling blue, and Patty wanted to make a special breakfast that Sunday morning to cheer us all up. I heard Patty in the kitchen well before six. She made cinnamon rolls, bacon, and an egg casserole. She asked me to handle the fruit salad and the coffee. I was worried about Patty having enough energy to cook for Danny and Marie that night. If they came over. I’d given him my number and was hoping he’d call and accept my invitation, but he never did.”

  “Marie didn’t seem to know about the dinner,” said Nora. “She didn’t even know Danny was selling the art pottery to you. All she knew was that he might have a buyer.”

  Lou shrugged. “I have no idea why Danny wanted to keep the deal a secret. Maybe he wanted to surprise her. I don’t know. I didn’t know him. I wish I had.”

  Nora put her hand on top of the diary. “You said that the house was trying to tell you something. Did you already know about the unusual terms of Rose’s will?”

  “I got a copy for my genealogy file. But that was a long time ago. I don’t remember any unusual terms.” Lou’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you so interested in my family history?”

  Because it led to murder, Nora wanted to say. She bit back the words, remembering that she’d come to bait Lou and Patty, not to try to force either woman into a confession.

  “I guess I got caught up in it because of Rose,” said Nora, doing her best to sound contrite. “Seeing her portrait and finding all those roses in her books. Looking at her sketches and reading the Browning poem she’d copied into her diary—I was captivated by her. You were right. Rose Lattimer was an incredible woman. I’m grateful that I had the chance to learn her story.”

  Lou didn’t respond and Nora felt like she should fill the silence.

  “It’s not just Rose,” she continued. “Like you, I only met Danny once. But I’ve visited Marie twice now. I feel protective of her. She’s in agony because she doesn’t know what happened to her husband.”

  “Of course she is. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.” Lou’s eyes were sorrowful. “I still want to help Danny’s family however I can. Rose would have expected nothing less.”

  The words sat between the two women.

  Nora glanced outside and thought of the room right next door. Patty’s room. It had once belonged to Rose. Which meant a very long time ago, Rose had stared out her window and seen the same blue hills Nora now saw. She’d probably rocked her baby daughter to sleep by that window. She’d admired the rose garden during the day and the starry sky at night.

  Had she wished on a star? Had she sent prayers to the heavens that she might marry the father of her child one day?

  Judging by her diary, Rose had grabbed moments of happiness whenever she could. She and Chea Sequah couldn’t be together. They could never know true peace and contentment in a world filled with discrimination, but Rose made sure that their daughter was free to live as she saw fit. As heir to the Lattimer estate, Ava would have money, position, and independence.

  Turning from the window, Nora said, “When the pages were torn out of Rose’s diary, the hinge was damaged. I repaired it as best I could. And I found something during the repair. It might help you bridge the gap with Marie and serve as a connection to the child she’s carrying.”

  Lou’s face filled with wonder. “She’s pregnant?”

  It was hard not to be moved by Lou’s evident delight. Nora nodded and said, “I found a lock of hair hidden inside the back cover of Rose’s diary. It’s black, and I’m pretty sure it belonged to a baby. I put it in a little baggie. But with all that’s been happening at the store and to my friends, I forgot to bring it. I’ll be having dinner with Jed, the guy I’m seeing, at the Pink Lady tonight. I could give it to you then if you and Patty would like to join us.”

  Lou hesitated. “It’s hard for me to imagine us having dinner after all this.” She gestured between herself and Nora. “We haven’t exactly gotten off to the best start.”

  “Maybe not,” Nora said. “But I believe in second chances. Let’s shake hands, apologize, and start again.”

  Lou’s expression of relief was so infectious that Nora wished they truly could be friends.

  She held out her hand. “I’m sorry for being intrusive.”

  Taking Nora’s hand, Lou gave it a hearty shake and said, “I’m sorry for being dishonest.”

  “Friends?” Nora asked when Lou let go.

  With a smile, Lou said, “Friends. We’ll see you at the Pink Lady. The milkshakes are on us.”

  June was waiting on the front porch. As she and Nora walked to her Bronco, Nora saw Bo loading suitcases into their rental car. The ID tag attached to a purple bag was sticking outside of the trunk. It would be crushed when the trunk was shut, so Nora jogged over and pushed it out of the way.

  Bo, who’d been struggling with the handle of a carry-on-sized bag, thanked her. He then pointed at the inn. “Georgia’s doing a final sweep of our room, but I know she’d want me to tell you that we’re sorry we never made it to the bookstore while you were there. Next time?”

  Nora returned his smile. “Next time.”

  Inside June’s car, she sighed. “Just when I thought it was impossible, things have gotten even more complicated.”

  * * *

  McCabe’s expression was inscrutable as he listened to Nora. When she was done outlining her plan,
he folded his arms across his chest and glowered at her. Feeling like a student who’d been sent to the principal’s office, Nora steeled herself for a reprimand.

  “You’ve forced my hand, Ms. Pennington. I have no choice but to see this through with you,” the sheriff said. “However, I want you to understand something. You are a citizen. You are not an officer of the law. Even with years of training, it’s impossible to be prepared for all that can happen when a suspect is cornered. This is why officers of the law try to avoid making arrests in crowded public places. If you’d thought things through, you’d realize that there would have been other ways to get this done.”

  Nora’s cheeks grew hot. She’d expected McCabe to be irked by her plan, but not angry. She was surprised by how much his anger bothered her. He was her friend. Wasn’t he? Couldn’t he see that she was here because she knew she couldn’t see this through on her own?

  “I asked Hester and Estella to come to you with what we found today. I’m here for the same reason. To tell you what I know and to ask for help,” she said. “I’m not trying to be something I’m not. My friends and I want to help Marie. We want to help her, and the Fosters, find a little peace.”

  “I didn’t see much peace in tonight’s forecast. You’ve set things in motion that I don’t have the time or the manpower to undo. If you’ll excuse me, I need to call a meeting.”

  June was waiting for Nora in the lobby.

  “How’d it go?” she asked.

  “McCabe is seriously pissed at me. I can see his point, and I’ll make it up to him when this is all over. Are you going to see Tyson?”

  Though visiting hours were almost over, June was going to use every last minute. She didn’t have much time left with her son.

  Tomorrow, Tyson was being transferred to a treatment facility just north of Asheville. The center had first-rate addiction recovery programs and incredible mountain views. The moment June had heard of an opening at the center, she’d called to secure a place for her son.

  “Good luck tonight,” she said, giving Nora a hug. “Listen to the sheriff. You were right, he is a good man. Trust him to finish this thing.”