Murder in the Reading Room

by Ellery Adams

  And yet he wasn’t.

  He looked directly at Jane and didn’t react. He didn’t know her.

  “Hello,” he said to the room at large.

  He spoke with William’s voice. His pleasant alto.

  Jane wanted to run to him. She wanted to throw her arms around him. She was so relieved that he was alive. There he was, as familiar as a best friend from childhood.

  He’s not a friend. He’s your husband.

  As William stood there, looking perplexed, time shifted. It folded and bent, turning Jane into a younger woman. She was in her twenties, not her thirties. She was a wife and an expectant mother. She hadn’t given birth to twin boys. She hadn’t become the manager or the Guardian of Storyton Hall. She hadn’t fallen in love with another man.

  She was William’s Jane again.

  “Hello,” he said, flashing her a friendly smile.

  The smile hurt. How many times had he smiled at her that way? How often had that smile made her melt?

  Be brave, she told herself.

  “Hi,” she said in a soft voice. “I’m Jane.”

  “William,” he said, making no move to shake her hand. He glanced at Lachlan, but Lachlan didn’t speak. He was still assessing William with an air of cold detachment.

  Parrish gestured to the sofa. “Why don’t you sit down, William? Bruno will bring you something to eat. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

  “I am, thanks.” William took a seat at the other end of the sofa, keeping his distance from Jane. His attention was fixed on Parrish. “I don’t want to go back to that room.”

  He sounded like a little boy who, having been given a harsh punishment, begs for a reprieve.

  “You don’t need to go back,” Parrish assured him, closing the laptop. “While you eat, we’re going to talk about where you came from.”

  “The facility?”

  Parrish shook his head. “Before that. We want to talk about your life before your accident. Do you remember your accident?”

  “I remember the water. It was dark and so cold. That’s all.” William folded his arms over his chest in a protective gesture. He froze in that position, and Jane wondered if his body recalled more than his mind.

  Bruno returned with a tray. When William saw the offerings, a sandwich and a mug of beer, he visibly relaxed.

  The sight of the beer drew tears to Jane’s eyes. She remembered pouring beer into William’s pint glass at their favorite corner bar the night before his ill-fated trip. He’d been playing darts with one of the locals, and Jane had waited until the game was over to fill his glass. She didn’t normally steal the bartender’s job, but he’d been really busy that night, and Jane had told him to leave William’s bottle of lager and she’d see to it.

  Without realizing what she was doing, Jane pointed at the glass on his tray. “You used to like honey lager. Your favorite was called Midas Touch. You drank it at a local bar called William Penn’s Pub. You loved that place.”

  William stared at her. “You knew me? From before?”

  Jane’s heart was hit by a fresh stab of pain. He was William, but he wasn’t her husband. Not anymore. Unless the man she’d married was trapped somewhere inside this man’s head. Had his brain been too badly damaged for him to return or could his memories be brought back?

  Do I even want him to remember?

  Though the question was an honest one, it was also selfish and cruel. Jane had fallen in love with another man, but that didn’t mean that she shouldn’t do everything in her power to make William whole again. He deserved to be rescued, and if Jane could find a way to rescue him, she would.

  “Yes, I knew you from before the accident,” she said. “I can also tell you that you liked mustard on your sandwiches. Not mayo.”

  William peeked under the top slice of sandwich bread before looking at Bruno. “May I have some mustard, please?”

  Bruno whisked the plate away and left the room.

  “How did we know each other?” William asked Jane.

  Jane didn’t think this was the time to tell William that she was his wife.

  “I’m a friend,” she said, shooting a warning glance at Parrish. He shrugged as if to say that he wasn’t going to interfere with their reunion. “We went to college together.”

  At that moment, Bruno returned with a fresh sandwich.

  William thanked him, took a bite, and chewed. He grinned at Jane. “I do like mustard better. What else can you tell me?”

  Seeing that boyish grin on his familiar face—a face that was older, yes, but still the face of the man she’d once loved—brought Jane’s grief to the forefront. She longed to touch William but sensed that such an act would alienate him. She was a stranger to him—a truth she’d have to strive to remember.

  “I can tell you so much more, but I have to go home,” she said to him. “My home is a beautiful place called Storyton Hall. Have you heard of it?”

  William cast a nervous glance at Parrish. “I don’t remember it. I swear.”

  It sounded as if he’d given this answer hundreds of times before.

  Anger boiled inside Jane. The very mention of Storyton Hall upset William, which meant he’d been questioned about it by Parrish and his heinous cohorts.

  Questioned? Or tortured?

  “Well, it’s a bit like Biltmore,” she said, fighting to maintain a neutral tone. “It’s big and old with lots of rooms. It also has walking paths and hiking trails. You used to enjoy hiking.” She smiled at William, and he smiled back. “Storyton Hall is a paradise for readers. We have thousands of books and dozens of comfy places to read them.”

  “I love books,” William said, reaching for his sandwich again. “Especially books about history.”

  Jane’s husband had also loved this genre. He’d plowed through biographies, nonfiction works, and historical fiction. As long as it focused on the past, no book was without merit.

  “This week, we’re hosting an organization celebrating the centennial of World War One. This group has been touring the country for several years now, educating people on the Great War. This is their final year of reenactments and other events, and they’ve chosen Storyton as one of their last stops. I bet you’d love to hang out with these historians.”

  “I would,” William said. His eyes were shining, but when he looked at Parrish, the light instantly dimmed. “Can I visit Storyton Hall?”

  “Certainly. Stay as long as you’d like,” Parrish said magnanimously. “We should take a look at your things and make sure that you have what you need for a lengthy visit. If not, we’ll take you shopping in the village tomorrow. Ms. Steward won’t be leaving until Monday morning, so you have plenty of time to prepare.”

  William nodded obediently, thanked Jane, and stood up to leave. He was about to pass from the living room into the vestibule when he paused to glance back at Jane. “Steward? I feel like I’ve heard that name before.” His gaze went fuzzy as if he was trying very hard to remember. “I hope you can help me. Like you did with the mustard. I have so many holes in my memory. I wish I could fill them all in.”

  It was getting harder and harder for Jane to mask her emotions. She didn’t want William to go. She wanted to grab him and take him to her hotel. What if she lost him again? She didn’t trust Parrish. It was because of this distrust that she knew she had to hide her anguish.

  “I’ll help you any way that I can,” she told William. “See you soon.”

  A wave of sorrow hit her as she realized that she’d just repeated the same words she’d said all those years ago. Her final words.

  Once he was gone, Jane passed her hands over her face. She wouldn’t cry in Parrish’s presence. To force the tears back, she pushed her fingertips against her closed eyelids. After emptying the air in her chest through a slow exhalation, Jane felt calm enough to speak. “That man is my husband, Mr. Parrish, and he needs to be in my care. I’d like your word that he’ll be well treated until he returns to Storyton with me. Are you planning to put h
im back in a cell?”

  Parrish was unfazed by the steely edge to Jane’s voice. “No. His tenure there was temporary. The setting was meant to elicit a certain reaction from you.”

  “As was the beard? A ruse to make me think he’d been imprisoned for years? Did you put the note in the lion’s mouth too? I think you did. I think you’ve been leading me around like a dog on a leash.” Jane’s voice was tight with anger. When she received no answer, she got to her feet. She was desperate to get outside—to suck in lungfuls of fresh air—and to have some time to digest the enormity of her new reality. “What happens next?”

  “You return to your conference. I will inform Mr. Alcott of his upcoming departure on Monday morning.”

  Jane shook her head. “We’re leaving tomorrow night. We need to return to Storyton Hall with you, Edwin, and William after dark. Especially since you intend on keeping Edwin locked in a hotel suite.”

  “Where he’ll surely be treated like a king,” Parrish said. “I’ll meet you at your hotel tomorrow following the afternoon conference session. I look forward to getting to know you better, Ms. Steward, and I am most excited about my stay at Storyton Hall.”

  Parrish walked them to the door and explained that Bruno would drive them to their truck.

  Jane slid into the back seat and closed her eyes. She didn’t speak as she and Lachlan headed back to their hotel. Lachlan gave her the space and silence she so desperately needed.

  Back at their hotel, Jane grabbed a water glass and the bottle of wine Lachlan had opened for their supper and told Lachlan that she’d be in the garden.

  “I’m here if you need me,” he said.

  Jane’s hands shook too violently to pour the wine, so she set the bottle on the low garden wall and dropped into a metal chair. Now that she was alone, she thought the tears would come streaming out, but something held them in check. It was if a stopper blocked all of her emotions and she didn’t know how to unplug it.

  “I don’t even know what I’m feeling,” she whispered to the empty patio. The quiet night and shadowy sky were of some comfort. But not enough.

  Whenever Jane felt completely lost and overwhelmed, she turned to one person. Eloise would know exactly what to say to make Jane feel better.

  She took out her phone and stared at the screen. How would she explain this fantastical turn of events to her best friend? Jane needed to come up with a credible story for the unbelievable revelation she was about to share not only with Eloise but with everyone else in Storyton as well.

  “William is alive,” she practiced saying out loud.

  Deciding to wing it, she dialed Eloise’s number. Within seconds of hearing her best friend’s cheerful “hello,” Jane was crying.

  “What is it?” Eloise was instantly worried. “Is it Edwin?”

  “He’s okay. We found him, and he’s okay,” Jane said through a choked sob. She might be hurting, but she wouldn’t let Eloise suffer unnecessarily. “It’s hard to get the words out. I came to Biltmore for Edwin. He was here, and I’m bringing him home.” Another sob escaped. “I found someone else too. My God, it’s so . . . unreal.”

  Eloise made a shushing noise. “You won’t be able to tell me anything if you can’t breathe. Listen. I’ll distract you with a little anecdote about the twins. By the time I’m done, you’ll be able to say what you need to say. Okay?”

  Jane made a noise of assent.

  “Before I start, I should warn you that this story involves Fitz and Hem, Sunday School, rubber cement, and a burning bush.” She paused. “The burning bush was supposed to be a craft activity to go along with the day’s Bible lesson. Emphasis on supposed to be.”

  Eloise’s strategy worked. Jane’s brain immediately switched into Mom mode. She stopped crying and muttered, “Just tell me they haven’t been banned from church.”

  “Not quite, but the twins are scheduled to polish pews next Saturday. They received a sentence of community service.”

  Jane actually laughed. “Thank the stars for you, Eloise.” She raised her face heavenward, but the stars were still missing from the night sky. “Whenever I think I’m losing my mind, you keep me sane. And though you’re a rock, you should probably sit down before I drop this bomb on you. I almost blacked out. Luckily, Lachlan wouldn’t let me.”

  “You’re really worrying me,” Eloise said. “Can you just spit it out?”

  “William is alive.”

  Eloise said nothing. Silence echoed through the phone speaker, and Jane didn’t break it. She had to give Eloise time to take in the news.

  When the pause started to grate on Jane, she started talking. “He didn’t die the night of the car accident. And he doesn’t remember me. He doesn’t remember anything about his life before that night.”

  “Okay, I’m sitting down now.” Eloise released a pent-up breath. “Good Lord, Jane. I don’t even know what to say. It’s a miracle.” After another brief silence, she asked, “Where has he been all these years?”

  “In a medical facility,” Jane said. “He doesn’t need to be there anymore, so I’m bringing him home.”

  This news was met by a low whistle. “This is some General Hospital – sized drama,” said Eloise. “I can’t wrap my head around it. What will you tell the boys? What will you tell Edwin? And speaking of my brother, why did he fall off the face of the earth for two months?”

  “I’ll let him explain that to you in person. Just know that he’s okay and he’s coming home with me tomorrow. As for William, I’m not going to tell the boys that the stranger I brought back from Biltmore like he was a souvenir is their father,” Jane said. “Which is why the rest of the Cover Girls can’t know about him. If Mrs. Pratt gets wind of this, the whole village will know. Same goes for Mrs. Hubbard. She’ll be tougher to fool because William will be staying on the property.”

  “In your house?”

  Jane considered this for a moment. On the one hand, being near her might trigger William’s memories. Then again, she didn’t know him. Not this version of him, anyway. And she had Ramsey Parrish to deal with. “He’ll bunk with Sterling or Lachlan. I’m sorry if that puts a damper on your romantic life, but it’s temporary. Promise.”

  “You went to Biltmore in search of my brother, and you end up finding your long-lost husband. Only you could manage such a feat.”

  “Well, I wanted to call and tell you to stop worrying,” Jane said, buoyed by Eloise’s banter. Just listening to her familiar voice was a balm to Jane’s anguished spirit. “I’m beat, though, and I should probably try to get some sleep.”

  Eloise grunted. “Like either of us is getting much of that tonight. My worrying is now focused on you. I hate to point this out, Jane, but you’re not a widow anymore. You’re a married woman. And you’re in love with another man.”

  Jane thought of a line from a Rumi poem that roughly translated to “Love is fearless in the midst of the sea of fear.”

  But she didn’t say it out loud because she didn’t feel fearless. She felt like she was standing at the brink of an abyss, and if she didn’t step carefully, she and everyone she cared about would be pitched into blackness.

  “I’ll figure it out,” she told Eloise.

  But even as she spoke, she was reaching for the bottle of wine.

  Chapter Six

  Jane wondered how she would even pretend to pay attention during the morning conference session. Tonight, she’d be returning to Storyton with her husband and her lover. She’d also be inviting a known enemy into her home.

  She began planning for the complications that would inevitably stem from these events at daybreak. After brewing a pot of strong coffee, she called Sinclair.

  “Are you certain the man is William?” Sinclair asked. “Could he be an imposter? A man disguised by prosthetics or plastic surgery? Has he been brainwashed into obeying Parrish’s commands?”

  Jane had asked herself these same questions. “All I can say is that he looks like William. He sounds like William. But it’
s not like I examined him for telltale scars or marks.”

  “I suppose not,” Sinclair said, sounding disappointed.

  “I couldn’t take the chance that he isn’t William. Can you understand that? I couldn’t leave him here,” Jane said. “I’m not being naïve. Knowing he could be Parrish’s agent, I won’t reveal things to him—only harmless details from our past. Because if he is William, I have to help him, Sinclair. I have to do anything I can to restore him.”

  Though the head librarian of Storyton Hall and Jane’s mentor murmured in agreement, Jane knew that he was troubled.

  “When I left Storyton for Biltmore, I didn’t expect to be reunited with William or to bring a snake into our midst,” she added. “At least we can prepare for Parrish’s visit. He made his demands quite clear. The question is, how will we get rid of him without putting Edwin in danger? Or others close to me? Parrish is bound to have an insurance policy. He’ll expect us to rescue Edwin. He’ll expect to be kicked to the curb without getting what he wants. So what provisions does he already have in place to prevent that from happening?”

  “Thus far, Mr. Parrish has orchestrated his plans with the skill of a chess master. It is my opinion that he arranged for the Luxury Lodging Symposium to be held at Biltmore over a year ago. Booking the conference, abducting Mr. Alcott, and luring you to Biltmore must have been Mr. Parrish’s backup plan when the attempt to discover the secret library by kidnapping the twins failed.”

  When Jane considered what Parrish and his Templars had done to gain access to the secret library, she knew they wouldn’t stop trying. The faction was willing to cross any line to achieve their goal, and that filled Jane with fear.

  “It’ll never end,” she lamented. “There will never be peace for me or my boys.”

  Sinclair didn’t argue. “There will be moments of peace and moments of peril. This is the life we have all chosen.”

  I was born into it, Jane thought. I didn’t have a choice.

  Jane spent a moment wondering if she could spare the boys the same fate by donating the entire secret collection to a reputable museum. This was a thought she’d have to return to later.