Johanna couldn't answer through her panting. Her heart thumped rapidly inside her chest. Goose bumps covered her skin from head to toe.
"Johanna?" This time, Sarah was closer. "Where are you?"
Taking a deep breath, Johanna answered, "On the floor by the window. Something fell down. I can't find a light."
Sarah flipped the lights on. "The switch is right here." She looked at Johanna, curled up in a ball, cowering against an armoire. "Are you okay?"
Johanna stood up, dusting off her jeans and blouse. "He could have told me where the light switch was. I think my legs are going to be covered in bruises. I ran into everything, trying to make it to the window back here."
On the floor were rows of boxes scattered from one end of the attic to the other. In the middle of the room was a crib, lying dismantled. Both Johanna and Sarah paused at the sight of it.
"Was it true? Was his wife pregnant when she died?" Johanna nodded to the crib.
"I can't say for sure." She sighed, looking down at the crib. "Let's get these boxes out of the way and load them into the cars."
For the next hour, Sarah organized the boxes, while Johanna took them one by one down the stairs and placed them on the porch. She wondered what was inside each of them. Judging from the items that were left in one piece, she could only assume that those boxes contained items belonging to Paulina.
Milan worked outside, in full view of the reporters and the small crowd of onlookers that had gathered. Questions were still being thrown at him, but he managed to ignore them and continued working to clean up the yard. Just beyond the back gates, police investigators continued to work in and around the tunnel and in the adjoining gardens. Sheriff Acker returned after Johanna had already made two trips to the local thrift store to donate the items.
Johanna watched as Ned approached Milan in the yard. She couldn't hear what they were discussing, but the cold, hard stare that Milan offered the sheriff told her that he wasn't at all pleased by what he had to say.
Sarah was watching the exchange from the kitchen window as Johanna walked in and settled in a chair. "What happened now?" Sarah asked, unaware that Johanna had come in.
"I don't know. I couldn't hear anything, but it didn't look like it was good news." Johanna answered, startling Sarah.
"How many more loads do you plan on taking today?" Sarah asked, sitting down opposite Johanna.
She shrugged before wiping her brow. Her body ached from head to toe. It had been a long time since she'd done any real physical work and her muscles let her know that they weren't pleased.
"There's only a few more boxes in the attack. I'll take those and, then, call it a day. Milan's been out there all day." Johanna mused.
Sarah nodded, opening her mouth to speak, then, stopping.
"What? What's wrong?" Johanna asked, leaning forward in her seat.
"Okay. Now, this is just between me and you, but you know that question you asked me earlier about Mrs. Merced?" Johanna nodded. "Well, I didn't exactly tell you the truth." Johanna's eyebrows quirked up. "She and Milan had been trying to have a baby for quite some time, but it didn't happen."
"Oh, okay." Johanna didn't understand why Sarah was telling her this. "And?"
"The stuff that's in the attic belonged to Paulina. Most of it was stuff she'd purchased for a baby."
Johanna interrupted her. "What baby? You just said that they couldn't have a baby."
Sarah swallowed hard, looking back at Johanna with a pained expression in her eyes. Johanna waited for her to respond. The kitchen door flew open and Milan walked in, slamming it shut behind him.
"They are leaving." He announced before storming off upstairs.
Sarah immediately followed him, telling Johanna to finish up with the rest of the boxes from the attic.
Johanna slowly trudged up the stairs, her muscles protesting her every move. She walked past Milan's room and could hear their muffled voices talking, but couldn't make out what they were discussing. Outside, the sheriff's deputies and Sheriff Acker were packing up their gear and removing the yellow tape and barriers that they'd put up in front of the tunnel.
Curious to know what was going on, Johanna closed her bedroom door and watched out the window. By all accounts, the investigation seemed to have come to an abrupt stop. Although she was relieved, she still felt like something was amiss. Sarah's latest news didn't help ease her suspicions, though, either.
As the sulking crowd began to disperse, Johanna studied their faces, hoping to commit some of their faces to memory. It was difficult to be a new person in a small town, she knew, but she hoped that by approaching them individually, she may be able to find the answers to some of her questions. Milan and Sarah were only giving information in tiny increments and, if they expected her to do her job well, she would need far more information before continuing.
She heard the sound of Sarah walking in the hallway outside of her bedroom. Milan's heavier footsteps followed. Neither said a word as they both descended the stairs. Soon, Johanna could see Milan as he went back into the yard to continue the yard work and underneath her, in the kitchen, she heard Sarah moving around as she cleaned.
What are they up to, Johanna wondered.
* * *
THE CLERK STARED at Johanna with a blank expression on his face. He hadn't lifted a finger to help her with any of her cargo on the four previous trips she'd made to donate items and she didn't have any hope that he would be willing to sacrifice a moment of his time to help her now either.
"Don't worry. I'll get it." Johanna muttered as she fought to keep the door open without losing her grip on the box in her arms.
"You sure have a lot of stuff to get rid of." He mused.
Looking at his name tag, Johanna threw the box on top of the counter in front of him. He followed her gaze to his name tag and looked back at her.
She said, "Well, Timmy, that name tag there says customer service. I don't suppose you know what that means, do you?" The heat didn't do anything to help her mood. She felt like she'd gone swimming in a mud puddle and hadn't had anything to eat or drink for days. Her clothes were covered in dirt and dust. Her long, wavy hair, sat like a bird's nest on top of her sweaty head. She'd had enough and wanted everyone to know it.
"Did you need help?" He asked, missing the whole point of what she was trying to say to him.
"I've been here how many times today, my friend?" Johanna's tone scared the clerk.
His voice low, he answered, "A lot."
"Yeah, a lot, Timmy." Sighing, she continued, "Anyway, this should be my last trip for today. What time do you open tomorrow?"
"We don't." He answered.
"What? What do you mean?" Johanna could feel her frustration building. The last thing she needed was some smart mouthed kid toying with her.
He pointed to a small handwritten sign on the counter top. "We are only open two days a week and today's the second day this week, so we're not."
Through clenched teeth, Johanna asked, "Do you have a donation drop off bin?"
"Nope."
"So, I have to wait until next week to donate items? Really? Is there any other thrift stores around here?" She turned to look out the window. She didn't remember seeing any other second hand stores on the block.
"Nope." He answered again.
Turning in frustration, Johanna said, "All right, well, I'll figure something out. Thanks for all your help, Mr. Timmy whatever your name is."
As the door was closing behind her, he shouted back, "Johnson. Mr. Timmy Johnson."
She turned, grabbing the door, and asked him, "You're a Johnson? As in Tuck Johnson's family?"
He nodded. "Yeah, why?"
"How are you related?" She stepped back inside the store and walked back to the counter.
He took a step back and waited to hear what else she had to say.
"Are you his son?"
He averted his eyes.
Firmer, she asked, "Are you Tuck Johnson's son?"
"Why? What do you
care?" The frightened kid suddenly became defensive and bolder.
"I care a lot, if you are. Do you know who I am?" She asked, challenging him to say the right thing.
"The new wife, I guess." He answered, shrugging.
They stood in awkward silence for a few moments as Johanna tried to decide how she was going to play this. If she told him too much, he'd surely use it against Milan, but if she made something up, that could backfire even worse. And, she was concerned that she'd unknowingly handed him all of Paulina's prized possessions. That would upset Milan to no end.
Shuffling from side to side, Timmy finally asked, "Are you going to go now?"
Johanna hoped she wouldn't regret what she was about to do, but felt, given the circumstances, that this was the only decision she could make. Leaving Paulina's things with the person who vandalized her home and her burial site didn't feel like the best thing to do.
"I'm going to need your help, Timmy."
Chapter 11
“NO, I’M SORRY, Mr. Merced asked me to call you and cancel the appointment.” Johanna said the first thing that came to mind. She had no idea that Milan had asked a realtor to stop by the manor.
The realtor's face reddened. This listing was the most coveted listing in all of Brimmer County. Johanna imagined that he'd worked very hard to get Milan to trust him enough to deal with the sale.
"Is Mr. Merced here?" He turned his head to check the driveway.
Johanna shook her head. "I'm afraid not. He had to go to Nashville to take care of some business matters and I really couldn't tell you when he'll back back."
"Who are you, dear?" The realtor's tone was condescending. Johanna didn't appreciate being spoken to in that manner. She made a point to memorize his face, so that if she ever saw him again, she could let him know exactly how she felt about it. He was a short, round man with a pronounced receding hairline. To her, he looked more like a con man than a realtor, but she figured that there probably wasn't too much competition in River's Bend, so he had the freedom to dress however he liked.
She cleared her throat before answering. "I'm so sorry that you were inconvenienced, but I do wish you well. Bye, now." Johanna moved to close the door, but he stopped it with his hand.
"Wait. I'd really like to speak to Mr. Merced. I'll try him on his cell phone, but if I don't reach him, will you let him know that I stopped by for our scheduled appointment?"
She waited for him to hand her a business card, but he didn't have one, so he wrote a number down on a scratch piece of paper and handed it to her. When she turned around, she was surprised to find Sarah standing on the stairs watching her.
"What are you doing, Johanna? Who was that?" Sarah asked, disappointment in her eyes.
Johanna pointed to the door. "You mean that guy? No one important. Don't worry. I got rid of him. It's not like we don't have enough people snooping around here, right?" She hated having to lie to Sarah, but she believed that Milan would thank her some day for taking charge and reclaiming what was rightfully his.
Sarah studied Johanna's face for a moment. Johanna could see her struggle to believe her, but whatever doubts she had, she ignored for the time being, and Johanna couldn't have more relieved.
"Fine. Thank you, Johanna. Now, I was wondering if you would mind helping me in the kitchen? There's so many items that need to be taken out of the cabinets and the pantry. I just can't find my way out."
"No problem." Johanna answered, anxious to get as far away from the realtor as possible before he decided to come back and ask more questions.
In the kitchen, Sarah had all the drawers and cabinets open. She pointed to the areas of the kitchen that needed to be addressed and dove right back into what she was doing.
Over the next forty-five minutes, the two women managed to tackle several of the cabinets, but still had so much more that required their attention.
Johanna slumped into a kitchen chair, exhausted from the repetitive twisting and turning she'd been doing.
"Sarah, sit down and take a break. Aren't you exhausted? This place looks like it was just abandoned as is. Why did he just take off, if he was innocent?" Johanna felt like she'd been working her fingers to the bone, but for every room they cleared, there were two more that required work.
"This is only the beginning. After we get it cleared out, Milan has a team of contractors that will come in and begin the real work." Sarah reminded her.
"Then, what? Get rid of it just like that and go on like this place never existed?" Johanna had grown weary of hiding her frustration. The whole ordeal seemed so unfair and wrong.
Sarah couldn't hold her tongue any longer. She'd put her relationship with Milan on the line for this young woman without knowing who she was or where she was from and it was high time she put the young woman in her place.
"Do I need to remind you who is in charge here? Milan owns this home. He gets to make the decisions. Our job is to clean the house and prepare it to sell, not to do what we think is right. Why do you care so much about this house anyway? What does it matter to you?" Sarah watched as Johanna cringed at her words.
Tears welled in her eyes, Johanna hoped it wouldn't come to this. Admitting why the home appealed to her so much seemed so trivial compared to all that was taking place. It felt selfish and juvenile.
After wrestling with how to say what she felt, Johanna started, "This is going to sound horrible and I apologize for that. This thing... This home is more than just a place to rest your head for me." The tears began to spill down her cheeks. "This is something not everyone gets in their lifetime. I waited my whole life to have someplace to call home and to have a chance at a family, a real family. I guess, when I first saw this place, it felt like a home, a real home and it had a family. When I heard the stories of how much Milan had when he was growing up, I guess it made me think about all the stuff I never got to have."
Sarah watched her as she spoke. Johanna's pain was palpable. She knew she was looking at a girl who had had everything in life taken away from her. She understood that because, although Johanna couldn't yet see it, her plight and Milan's plight were not very different from each other.
"Whatever you've been through in life shouldn't have an impact on how you conduct yourself here. This is a job, not your second chance at the life you think you needed. I'm sorry that things were difficult for you when you were growing up, but this isn't the time nor the place to try and reconcile with that part of your life. Right now, you need to make a decision and make it fast because from where I'm standing, all you're doing is making this more difficult for Milan."
"That's not what I meant to do. I didn't come here to defy orders. I just wanted a job. I wanted a chance to start all over again, you know?" Johanna wiped the tears from her face.
Sarah let what Johanna had just said sink in for a moment. She hoped Johanna would see the connection between what she was seeking and what Milan needed most in the world.
Johanna's mind floated back to all that she'd lost in her lifetime. Making the connection would take some time. She still had too many of her own demons to face and many new, better plans to pursue. She just hoped it was for the right reasons and that her efforts would be worth the risks involved.
Sarah asked, "Now, tell me, who was that at the door?"
Johanna bit her lip, not yet ready to explain what she'd done and why. She knew her best option was to change the subject, so she asked, “Why did the sheriff and his men leave? Is the investigation over?”
Sarah looked away. The two women sat silently looking over the work they'd done, opting not to speak for several minutes. Johanna focused her attention on the window overlooking the back yard and the tunnel.
In the short amount of time she'd been at Merced Manor, she hadn't had the opportunity to explore the tunnel. Having the police there didn't exactly afford her any opportunity to venture outside and see what it was that had everyone in the county so spooked and so ready to hang Milan for.
Sarah glanced out the
window too, wanting to warn Johanna to stay as far away from the tunnel she so despised. No one had business near that dreadful tunnel and the creek that had led too many people to their deaths.
While Sarah didn't believe the stories of the tunnel being inhabited by evil spirits or ghosts, she did believe that there was something about it that made people feel they could do the unthinkable out of the view of neighbors or society at large.
Johanna noticed that Sarah was watching her. She could tell from the look in Sarah's eyes that she too feared the tunnel.
Sarah finally broke the silence. "There are some things that I'd like you to take down to the cellar for me. This old back and my arthritic knees can't handle those steep stairs."
Johanna readily agreed, anxious for some alone time to sort out her feelings. "What do you want me to take down there?"
Sarah stood up and walked out of the room, not saying a word. Johanna shook her head, believing that Sarah had finally had enough of her.
"Great. Guess I'll have to figure that out by myself too." Johanna sighed.
The cellar door resisted Johanna's many attempts to open it. It creaked and squealed, fighting as if opening it would unleash something deadly.
She was dripping sweat after several minutes of pulling, tugging, and yanking with all of the strength her tired muscles could spare, but the doors would not open.
"Here." The sound of Sarah's voice sent Johanna hurling against the cellar doors.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, Johanna. Here's what I need you to put in there." Sarah held a box in her hand.
"You scared me. Everything has me so jumpy these days." Johanna stood up, wiping the dirt from her hands and clothing.
"There's a key for the doors. If you would have waited a moment, I would have given you the key." Sarah placed the box down on the ground and pulled a key out of her pocket to show Johanna.
"There's a key?" Looking at the doors, Johanna asked, "Where do you see a lock?"
Sarah grinned and lifted a stone from the rubble. Underneath was a small door with a lock. "Right here. It's hidden for security reasons."
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