A rear corner of the room held a few men’s things. Several Scottish wool jackets and linen suits were preserved with the same care as Emma’s clothes. A black tuxedo and a dove gray morning suit hung beside a cashmere robe. Emma and Ford Delaney had been a fashionable pair. Grace sat on a needlepoint bench in front of a bow-front dressing table and wondered if the last reflection in the wavy glass had been an older version of her own face.
A 1950s-era jewelry box covered in blue tufted leather looked both out of place and deliberate. As if Emma Delaney had wanted this item to be identified as solely hers. The latch was stiff with age, but Grace teased it gently until it finally gave. She opened the first compartment to find a single empty envelope with a few words scrawled across the front.
If you have this, I am gone. Remember how I loved you.
Grace ran a finger lightly over the words. The handwriting wasn’t distinctively male or female. Who wrote it? Who was supposed to find it? What had been inside? She felt like a voyeur.
If Emma had ever used the box for its intended purpose, the jewelry was long gone. Only letters filled the compartments. Small bundles, some tied with ribbon, others with corded string, were packed into spaces meant for gems and gold. She examined each bundle without untying it and saw the letters were addressed to different people, some to a woman named Ingrid Anders. She remembered Anders was Emma Delaney’s maiden name. A few were addressed to Emma.
A quick check of the postmarks placed the last letter nearly twenty years before Julia’s marriage to Jonathon Reagan. There was little likelihood the letters held any useful information for her and it felt wrong to read them, but she couldn’t leave them behind. Cradling the bundles in her left arm, she closed the empty box and left the dark, sad room.
The bright sunlight streaming through the dirty turret windows did nothing to warm her as she reclaimed her seat on the first-floor staircase landing. A check of her cell showed she’d missed a call and had voicemail from David Farquar. She leaned back until she could see the domed ceiling, then let her gaze slide downward, taking in the architectural beauty of the open hall. She reminded herself the house was her mother’s dream, a legacy. She was doing the right thing.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Secret room? What secret room? I haven’t poked around upstairs in years, but I think Gran would have said something.”
Over dinner that evening, Grace tried to introduce the subject with a humorous tone, but Niki wasn’t having it. She was still depressed over the party with her parents, and seemed intent on taking a negative view of every conversational topic Grace posed. The fried chicken dinner Grace had bought went to waste as both women picked at their food.
“This is so greasy,” Niki finally complained. “I can’t believe you got this chicken at Three Pigs.”
The chicken had been crisp and hot at the deli, but instead of putting the foil bag into a low oven as the clerk had instructed, Grace had left it out on the counter while she and Niki shared a bottle of wine and griped about their respective days. The chicken was greasy now, but Grace knew the dinner wasn’t what was bothering Niki. Her cousin had canceled a date to stay home with Grace, and Grace wished mightily that she hadn’t.
“Look, take one blanket apology for my family, please?” Niki pushed her plate away and folded her arms on the table. “Last night was terrible, but you can see what I mean about my parents, right? They’re toxic. Between them and my brother and Gran’s antics, there were times I wanted to find Aunt Julia and run away to her.”
“Are you serious?” Grace gave up on her own dinner and poured another glass of wine. Reality’s continual assault on her long-held perceptions was unsettling. She and her mother hadn’t been cast from the family, her mother had run away. They hadn’t been forgotten, Emma had continued to watch out for them. They hadn’t been unwanted, Niki had longed for her aunt and cousin.
“Grace! You saw them - how they really are, I mean. You got the genuine Stark and Connie show. And now you’re telling me Gran had a secret room? How bizarre is that? She lived in a huge house all by herself, for God’s sake! Who was she hiding her clothes from? The termites and bats?”
Grace didn’t mention the letters. Niki was in no mood for an objective review of whatever information Emma had hidden in her blue jewelry box.
“Maybe the rest of the house used to be neat and organized, too,” she offered. “Maybe she wanted one place with pleasant memories where she could go and…”
“And what? Be a reasonable, nice person she apparently couldn’t be when she wasn’t holed up behind a fake wall in her bathroom? That sounds better, yeah. Let’s go with that.”
Grace shifted gears. If she couldn’t talk Niki out of her bad mood, she may as well take advantage of it. “Tell me about life with Emma. I keep getting these bits and pieces, and all of you seem angry with her. Clearly, it was more than eccentricity.”
Niki groaned. “She was just mean, okay? Well, not always. Nobody is mean all the time. And I can remember her rocking me and singing when I was real small. At least, I think I do. Maybe I only want to have the memory. Who knows? Winnie says he was her favorite and he’s right. I was the one who wanted to play at her house. He was the one she wanted to see.”
“Sounds like normal sibling rivalry.”
“Sure. Some of it,” Niki admitted. “But her face lit up whenever she saw Winnie. No one else was in the room when he was around. It would even make Dad mad, sometimes. One time, I heard him say, ‘you’ve got two grandkids, you know,’ but Gran ignored him.”
Two. Grace took the thoughtless comment for what it was - Niki’s bad memory, not her own.
“She was just generally cranky and grumpy,” Niki went on. “She smelled old and her clothes were usually dirty from some project she was working on. She wore these white watermen’s boots and looked awful. It was embarrassing. What? Why are you laughing?”
Grace told her about wearing the boots while she cleaned.
“Oh, Jeez! Don’t let Dad see you in those. It’d finish him off. He told Cyrus he wanted Gran buried in them and I thought he’d really done it.”
The wine finally had its impact on their empty stomachs. They laughed until Niki started to hiccup. When Grace described how she’d looked in the mirror after the bathroom wall ‘moved’ and she’d leapt into the hallway, Niki went off into another spasm of giggles.
“Why, Grace?” Niki gasped. “Why put yourself through this? Let Henry and Bryce clean it all out. It’s funny now, but you must have gotten a real shock. God knows what’s in that place. You’ve already been injured once, isn’t that enough?” The laughter was gone; Niki’s face sober again. “I’ve finally found you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
Grace reached across the table and took Niki’s hands. “Something bad has already happened to both of us. I want to know everything, don’t you? I want to know why my mother left here. What, or who, hurt her and your father. What made Emma do the things she did.”
Niki pulled her hands away and stood up. “No! It isn’t any of our business! Knowing what happened all those years ago won’t make our lives any easier, only sadder. I want to deal with this life, today, the best I can. And I want my only cousin with me. Is that so much to ask?” She left the room without waiting for an answer.
“I want my father,” Grace said, but as usual, there was no one to hear.
“Come on, help me out,” Grace said the next morning as she and Niki waited for the coffee to brew. Niki showed no ill effects from the wine or their last conversation. Grace thought resiliency might be one of her cousin’s best attributes. “You know I’m looking for anything my mother may have left behind at Delaney House, but so far I haven’t found anything.”
A clap of thunder made Grace jump, but Niki didn’t flinch. An early morning storm with lashing rain threw the day out of kilter. With no deadlines to anyone other than herself, Grace found herself at odds. She was anxious to get on with the renovation but reluctan
t to leave the bright, cozy inn. Nagging at Niki for information was an acceptable delay.
Niki studied her hands for a moment and began to pick at the cuticle on her right pinky. “So what can I tell you? She was gone before I was born.”
“Well, do you know which bedroom Mom used?”
Still worrying her cuticle, Niki said, “Dad complained about dragging everything up and down two flights of stairs when Aunt Julia moved in with you and when she left. That would mean you lived on the third floor. Aunt Julia’s bedroom was next to Gran’s when Julia was growing up. The large room on the other side of the ensuite that collapsed.”
Grace made a mental note to check out both spaces. “I walked through the basement,” she said. “It’s all junky except for the last room under the front of the house.”
“I’m surprised you braved it,” Niki said. “And I’m astounded you found an empty room.”
“Not empty, not completely. Just neat.”
“Even more surprising. As I remember it, the basement was full of yard stuff and junk. Dad said when he was a boy, Gran had a workshop down there for gardening projects and other hobbies. He said it was clean and he remembers it smelled good. By the time Winnie and I came along, Gran wasn’t much on gardening anymore. We’d sneak down there, but it was scary. Lots of spiders.” She found an index finger that needed attention and began to pick.
Grace busied herself getting coffee mugs and creamer out. She tried to sound casual as she asked, “Do you think Emma would have kept my mother’s things?”
“I want to say yes, but the truth is, I don’t know. Despite what I said last night, there were sometimes when she was nice, even grandmotherly. But she never talked about Aunt Julia or Tony. You’ve heard about him, right? Gran’s oldest child?”
Grace poured the coffee and handed Niki a mug. “I saw some photos and articles in the box of stuff you gave me. So, there were three children?”
Tears welled up in Niki’s eyes. “You’re breaking my heart, Grace. How can you not know how many brothers your mother had?”
Because my mother and your father and our grandmother were secretive and selfish.
“Because something bad happened,” Grace said. “I don’t know what, but I’m going to find out.”
Feb 8, 1956
Dear Mother and Papa,
You’ve only been gone a day and here I am writing a letter. I know I will be too busy to be lonely as soon as I am back on my feet. I wish you could have stayed longer with your beautiful grandson and me. Master Winston Stratford Delaney the Fourth! Now that you’re gone, Ford will be the only one calling him that. I’m sticking with ‘Tony’.
Call when you get home and I’ll have news, I’m sure. If all goes well today with the nurse Ford hired, I’ll ask her to move into the nursery wing on the third floor. I hear you, Papa, we should have planned better, but who could have predicted Tony would make his entrance so soon? Anyway, until the nurse situation is settled, Audrey will stay over. And Mother, I hope you see now how nice she is and how concerned she is about the baby and me. Just because she isn’t married with children of her own, doesn’t mean she isn’t helpful with Tony. And she is such great company, as you said yourself, Papa.
Why, right now she is downstairs coordinating the food, which is still coming in from friends and church members. And at some point, she will arrange the nursery furniture Ford’s father sent from France. I still say it’s so elaborate, it’s embarrassing - really, Mother - a hand carved cradle with Austrian lace draperies? The suite Ford and I bought was perfectly fine, but Ford says it can go back to the store. Oh, dear, I think I’ve already told you this. That nasty drug they gave me for the delivery is still wreaking havoc with my memory.
Anyway, until I can navigate stairs, Audrey will be in residence. She hates living at her father’s house and Ford and I love having her around. I know you worry, but it will all work out well.
Your grandson is crying, and our prince will not be denied.
Call me soon!
Love
Mommy/ Emma
June 5, 1958
Dear Mother and Papa,
This will be short. I am trying to rest as much as possible so the bun in the oven will bake completely before she is born. And yes, I know this one a girl. I can feel it. A sister for Master Tony! And I'll name her Fiona, after Nanny. That will please you, won’t it?
Once again, Audrey has come to the rescue and is keeping Tony occupied while I stay off my feet. The baby nurse is lined up though, so Audrey will move back home after my little Fiona comes. What would I do without Audrey? She’s the sister I never had. Stop rolling your eyes, Mother. You know she's lovely. And she’s engaged! That should ease your mind about her ‘seemliness'. (Really, Mother? Unseemly? Just because of the dress she wore to the picnic? I’ll have to be more careful about the photos I send if you’re going to be so picky.)
Anyway, the happy fiancé is Cyrus Mosley. You remember Ford’s friend Cy? We all thought he'd be the one to win Audrey, but until now she’s said he was too serious for her. “No magic,” she said. I sounded like you, Mother, when I gave her the lecture about marrying a man who could take care of her - see? I did listen. And Audrey listened to me. Anyway, Cy is crazy about her. He calls her his princess and you should see the diamond ring she has!
So your grandson has a princess for a nanny until the baby nurse arrives. She’s wonderful with Tony and he loves her. Sits in her lap big as you please and pretends to read his books to her. He does resemble Ford when he concentrates with that serious scowl!
Have you decided if you’re coming back after little Fiona arrives? It is hot here in summer, and I understand if you want to wait until October. But don’t wait so long that the snow keeps you in Asheville for the winter. Fiona could be walking before you see her. I’ll hush now and nap. I am awfully tired today. I miss you both!
Emma
June 8
Well, this is the craziest post-script ever! I didn’t get this to the mailbox before my water broke - oh, Papa, close your eyes to that part. I know you heard the news from Ford and I will call you when I get home, but I can't wait until next week to talk about my Stark. Papa, you have to bring Mother up here right now and see my new baby!
I reread this letter and I almost tore it up, it’s so silly, but you know your girl and I don’t want to rewrite old news, I want to tell you about my baby boy. I am sure I thought he was a girl because he is so different from Tony. Instead of being big and blond with curls, Stark is tiny and dark. He will also have curls, I think, but now his hair lays in soft swirls around his perfect sweet face with its rosebud mouth. And his eyes! They are huge and so beautiful.
Tony is all Delaney, as we have known from the day he was born, but I believe I have given the Anders a new member of the clan in Stark. This child is the image of you, Papa. He was early, of course, so he’s little, but I’m sure that will change. He’s eating well and seems happy.
Now, about the name. I do hope you are happy with my choice. Ford isn’t thrilled, but he could hardly complain. After all, I had no say at all in Tony’s name, not that I would have changed it. I was so set on naming this baby after Nanny, but that wasn’t possible. She never talked enough about Grandpa Joe to give me a good sense of him, and I never knew her parents at all. The only thing I could think to do in her honor was to name the baby after the place she loved best. When he's older, I’ll introduce him to his mountain and tell him that’s why he is so big and strong.
Please come soon and see your crazy daughter and her two beautiful children!
Emma
Chapter Twenty-Two
Grace knew she couldn’t avoid David forever.
Call me as soon as you can. It’s important. She hadn’t listened to the two voicemails which followed. David’s direct line at the office had just started to ring when Chief McNamara walked through the kitchen door.
“Sorry to startle you. You didn’t have to hang up.” McNamara stopped to wip
e his feet on the mat inside the doorway, but he didn’t take his eyes off Grace. “Niki told me to come on in. She’ll be behind me in a minute.”
So much for the privacy she’d thought she had when Niki went out to the grocery store.
“I caught her as she was leaving,” McNamara went on. “Looks like I’m getting you at a bad time, too.”
“Not at all,” Grace said. “Not a call I wanted to make.”
McNamara raised an eyebrow and Grace found herself wanting to tell him everything. Niki arrived before the temptation to unload her troubles got the better of her. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of what David would say about her using a police officer for a confidant.
McNamara thanked Niki for the scones and coffee she offered but asked her to wait until they’d talked. The timber of his voice changed and with it the friendly atmosphere in the room.
“I have some news and I need a favor,” McNamara said after they were seated at the kitchen table. His notebook and pen were in his hand and Grace wondered if early in his career he’d practiced the move, sliding into interview mode while his audience’s attention was deflected. “The medical examiner’s report is finished for now. The remains in the grave are of a woman, which we knew. She was approximately twenty-eight years old. From the skeletal remains and other indicators, we know she was probably blond, Caucasian, around five-foot-four." He waited a moment and continued. “I’m doing the legwork for the State Police since I know all of you. I’ve come from your parents’ home, Niki, where I asked your father for a DNA sample. He refused.”
Niki took his words in, rapid blinking and clenched hands her only response. McNamara let the silence stretch. Finally, Niki said, “I’m not surprised. Dad’s first reaction to everything is ‘no’. He probably feels this is another invasion of his privacy.”
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