“Then not much has changed, has it?” Grace said.
Niki’s laugh was bitter. “No. But it needs to. That’s why I’m here.” She turned back to face Grace. Behind her, the sunlight caught Niki’s blond curls and outlined her slender body. It took a moment for Grace to see she was crying.
“I never wanted to hurt anyone,” Grace said, unsure what to do. “I just want to finish this house for my mother and find out what happened to my father. When I know that, I can deal with whatever the truth is and move on. I want a new life, Niki, but I have to finish the one I have first.”
Niki ran her fingertips under her eyes but stayed where she was in front of the window. “Yeah, I get it. You came in late to the game and I can’t blame you for what you’ve done. It’s not like it was personal, right?”
Grace wasn’t sure what Niki meant, but she said, “If I hurt you, it wasn’t intentional, I swear.” Guilt immediately reared its head. The truth was, she hadn’t deliberately hurt Niki, but she hadn’t taken any care not to hurt her either.
Niki nodded once and said, “Well, I’m not ready to give up the only sane relative I have, so what do you say, can we call a truce on all of it? You bought this place, it’s yours. You hire whom you want and you do what you please. My crazy parents and deadbeat brother aren’t your fault or your responsibility. Just be my friend, my family, and let’s start over, okay? For goodness sakes, it’s almost Christmas!”
Grace chose her words carefully. This time she would be completely honest. “You understand I won’t stop asking questions? I need to find out why my mother took me and left Mallard Bay and the family. If I know that, I might learn more about my father. Not knowing him didn’t matter to me for a long time, but now that Mom’s gone, it does. Can you understand?”
Niki shook her head. “I don’t have to. It’s important to you, and that’s enough for me. I’ll think about it, and if I remember anything, I’ll tell you. Now, let’s eat the scones I brought. It’s a new recipe and I need to know what’s missing. They’ve got too much or not enough of something.”
Grace said, “One question first?”
Niki unloaded the basket on the small gateleg table that served as a kitchen counter and said, “I brought two kinds, blueberry and cinnamon. One question and you have to test both.”
“Deal. When you talk about my mother, you call her ‘Aunt Julia’, even though you never met her. But the other night, when you talked about Tony, you called him ‘Tony’. Why?”
Niki handed her a napkin with two small scones. She looked thoughtful for a minute before answering. “I’ve never called him anything else. It’s not as if we talked a lot about him. Mom tried to help me understand why Gran was so difficult to get along with, so she told me about Grandfather and Tony. How they died, I mean. It just creeped me out more, you know? Mom knew Tony, so she was able to make him sound real. She’s older than Dad by a couple of years and she was in some classes with Tony in high school. She said he was really handsome and all the girls had a crush on him. They closed the school for his funeral.”
Grace tried to imagine how her mother and Stark had managed. Julia would have been twelve and Stark fourteen.
“I’ve always called her Aunt Julia because I want her to be real.”
“What?” Grace refocused on Niki.
“For a long time, I believed she would come home and bring you, and I would have an aunt and a cousin. Mom’s an only child and you were all I had in the way of family who might not be, you know,” Niki made air circles at her temple and rolled her eyes.
Grace laughed and then she saw Niki was serious.
“After a while, I was mad at her, and at you, for not coming back. I wanted to go find you, but Gran said you were somewhere far away and we didn’t know where. I’m not a kid anymore, but sometimes I’m still mad. Can you understand?”
It was Grace’s turn. “No,” she said, repeating her cousin’s words. “And I don’t have to. It’s important to you and that’s enough.” It would have to be, she decided as Niki crossed the room for a hug. Grace was short on relatives herself, and her heart wasn’t ready for another fight. Besides, it was almost Christmas.
Someone was shaking her awake. Someone with a hand on her foot.
The scream was out of Grace’s mouth before her eyes were open, but even as she scrambled to find the pepper spray she kept by the bed, she realized the room was empty. Whoever had been there was gone, but something was wrong. She found her slippers and a sweatshirt to pull over the t-shirt and leggings she’d worn to bed. When she opened the door to the hallway, she smelled it. Smoke.
Flipping every light switch she passed, she ran down the staircase to the second-floor landing and on down to the front hall. Even as she saw the smoke billowing down the long hallway from the back of the house, she heard the alarms of approaching fire engines. A sudden pounding on the front door brought her to her senses. She threw back the deadbolts, screamed ‘Get back’ and opened the door only wide enough to slip through, slamming it behind her. Avril Oxley waited on the front lawn.
“Thank God,” Avril said as she grabbed Grace in a bony, but surprisingly strong hug. “It’s your back porch, but the rest of the house hasn’t caught yet.”
“No!” Grace gasped and pulled Avril further away from the house. “There’s smoke in the house. Someone must have opened the back door.”
Avril stared at her as the fire trucks arrived and the fight to save Delaney House began.
Dec 25, 1959
Dear Mother and Papa,
Merry Christmas! I didn’t get to talk long enough today to say that. Your grandson loves the telephone and I hated to make him cry on Christmas by wrestling it away from him. I hope you enjoyed hearing a three-year-old's version of Santa’s visit! Poor little Stark is still frightened of all the excitement and ruckus his boisterous big brother kicks up around the Christmas tree and all of the celebrations. The little thing has spent most of the last month in my lap, clinging for dear life while Tony races around shouting and squealing with excitement. You were probably right to stay home. The noise level alone would have brought on a migraine for you, Mother.
Thank you so much for the wonderful presents, you were too generous as usual, but it was heartwarming to see the gifts for the boys from their only real grandparents. Ford’s father is yet to be heard from. I may have told you - in fact, I am sure I did, I was so mad! Mr. Delaney took his wife (we refuse to call a thirty-year-old 'Stepmother’) and their daughter to Switzerland for the holidays, and didn’t even send us a card. They still live in Paris, you know, and I was hoping for an invitation, but we don’t even rate acknowledgment. I guess the deed to this house was supposed to cover Christmas morning for his grandchildren.
I know you will tell me to count my blessings, and believe me, I do. Mr. Delaney and his second family could have come here instead of skiing, and then I’d have had a time on my hands. We are still recovering from his last visit. I’ve managed to rearrange the furniture to cover the bare spots from the antiques he took.
I’ve done this letter all wrong. I’m so scattered these days, I can never seem to get to the point. But here it is: the real Christmas part of my letter. I will be sending photographs of the boys seeing the Christmas tree, but I wish someone was photographing you now so I could see your faces as you read this. You’re going to be grandparents again! Can you believe it? Another June baby is on the way! Ford is thrilled and I am still in shock. I thought I was only exhausted from running after the boys, but the doctor says I’d better trade in my high heels for high top sneakers. He doesn’t know how right he is. My ankles are already looking puffy.
So maybe this time, we’ll see Fiona. Whoever arrives will be a handful, I am sure. Ford has reluctantly agreed to a live-in baby nurse, so most of the mess and noise can be confined to the third floor.
I should have ended this with the big announcement and said something Christmassy, like ‘God Bless Us Every One’. Come to think of it, that's perfect! I need all
the blessings and help I can get!
Merry Christmas and love from your daughter,
Emma - Mommy X 3!
March 14, 1960
Dear Mother and Papa,
This baby has to be a girl. She is so easy on her mama and I am grateful. Her brothers are about to run me into the ground, but she just gives me a little thump from time to time to let me know she is awake. No heartburn, either. She’s an angel. The boys are fine. Stark is talking a lot now and just shouts right over Tony, who is never quiet, as you know. Anyway, both boys would love a visit from their grandparents, hint, hint.
Ford has been even busier than usual. He is a member of so many groups and his bank board is a very social bunch of fellows. He’s out more nights than he is home and gone nearly every Saturday to the club to play golf. He says it’s all part of his job. ‘Schmoozing’ the clients, he calls it. I would have thought keeping their money safe and running a profitable bank would have been the part of his job which took the most time, but apparently not. As odd as it sounds, the arrangement works for us. The boys and I are happy and Ford seems to thrive in his non-stop life.
I have my girlfriends and Audrey comes by almost every day to visit, but she doesn’t stay. Our paths have become so different, just as you predicted, Mother. Her engagement to Cyrus has gone on so long with no firm date, I am beginning to believe we will never see a wedding. They are very active, though, and party every weekend. Ford is a bit irked with me at the moment because he has to attend some of the important social events alone. I can’t stay on my feet all day with the boys while carrying this baby and then go out in the evening and be on my toes, socially. Ford says all of his deals are done on the golf course and at parties and dinners, so he has to go. I tell him all of my deals are done over Cornflakes and applesauce. He doesn’t see the humor in that.
Audrey and Cyrus take pity on him, and they are often a threesome. Furthermore, according to Audrey, Ford never lacks for dance partners. My husband is a very handsome man while I grow bigger every day. Nature, most assuredly, is not a woman!
Poor old Clancy isn’t well. I know the lifespan of a Great Dane isn’t long, but I’d hoped for a few more years. Ford wants to put him down and ‘be done with it’, but you know I can’t. He has been my best friend and I can’t think what I will do without him. I don’t let the boys ride him anymore, but they’ll still lie down on him while he naps and Clancy is content to be a bed for tired little children. It breaks my heart to think this new baby may not know him.
I don’t want to end on a sad note, but I have to go. Ford will be home soon and for once he is eating with us, so dinner has to be special.
Mother, I do want to know how the redecorating is going, and Papa, I haven’t forgotten the new spring lines are coming in. I want to hear about the latest furniture styles. I wish you were closer. Maybe I could get Ford to trade in some of these heavy old Victorian pieces and lighten this place up with a few pieces of Danish modern. I know you two nearly swoon every time you see the chandelier and the dining room, but you have to admit the horsehair settees are horribly uncomfortable.
There I go again! Can’t seem to keep to one train of thought or one task without wandering off. Hope it’s only the baby making me ditzy!
Love,
Emma
Chapter Thirty-One
“Rags soaked in solvent are combustible, you know,” Aidan Banks said in an accusatory tone. “And you don’t have an occupancy permit.”
Grace shook her head. “There weren’t any rags on the back porch. I was out there before I locked up. And someone opened the back door.” She stopped herself from adding ‘and woke me up’. She’d forgotten about the occupancy permit and if she didn’t come up with some quick answers, she’d be homeless.
“It was open, alright. Maybe you were careless.” Banks started to type on his tablet.
Even though her inner lawyer was shouting ‘shut up!’ and Avril was pulling her away, Grace exploded. “I’m telling you the back door was locked and there were no rags on the porch. You report anything to the contrary and I’ll sue you.” Damn. She hated people who did that. Aidan Banks brought out the worst in her.
He didn’t acknowledge her threat, just kept tapping.
“You can go back home, Avril,” Grace said, peeling the old woman’s hand off her arm. “I’ll let you know in the morning what the damage is.”
“I may as well be here with you,” Avril shot a pointed look at Banks as she said, “You’ll only wake me up when you come in. I’m just thankful you were staying with me. You could have been killed.”
Grace raised an eyebrow but otherwise kept her face neutral. Banks stopped tapping and glared at Avril. “She’s staying with you?”
“Is that any of your business?” Avril snapped.
“So you weren’t sleeping here tonight?” Banks swiveled back to Grace.
“If your house was on fire wouldn’t you check it out?” She neatly evaded the question, but her emotions were on a seesaw as adrenalin started to ebb and she struggled against a sudden onset of giggles. She was being rescued by Avril Oxley.
Hours passed before the firefighters were satisfied that the last ember had been doused. The rear porches were rubble, and yellow warning tape sealed the back of the house.
As the fire crews packed up, Grace was briefed by a sympathetic McNamara who looked steady and unruffled, even at four a.m. on a bitter and damp December morning. “You’re lucky it’s a brick house and we got the call in time. But, I have to tell you this may be arson.”
Grace felt both vindicated and horrified. “I told Corporal Banks that the back doorway from the hallway onto the porch was open. Smoke was pouring in from that direction. I had locked the door earlier in the evening and there weren’t any rags or cans of solvent on the porch. He didn’t believe me, and so I didn’t tell him I’m also sure someone was in the house.”
“Why? Did you see someone?”
He shook my foot. She decided not to press her luck with tales of an unseen hero. “No, I heard them.”
“Well, no one’s in there now except firemen, but there’s something you should see.”
The kitchen door on the side of the house was undamaged. Other than the heavy smell of smoke and half a dozen broken windows, it was clear the fire hadn’t made it to the house’s interior, but there was damage all the same. The old metal kitchen cabinets had gone out in the first wave of demolition, but where they’d hung someone had painted four letters.
M I N E
Grace knew who had set the fire.
McNamara found Avril and Grace having coffee in the sunroom of Avril’s house on Sunday afternoon. After they’d rehashed the events of the night before, McNamara changed the subject. He had the results of their DNA reports.
“You’re sure?” Avril asked in a trembling voice that made her sound as old as she looked.
McNamara patted her hand. “I’m positive the woman in the grave is not a Delaney, Miss Avril. She’s a genetic relative of yours.”
Avril accepted the news with a jerky nod. After a moment, she said, “Do I, I mean I will if I have to, but do I have to look at the remains?”
“No, ma’am. No need.”
Avril straightened a bit. “No need, or no point?” She was gathering her wits and coming back to center.
McNamara said, “No point. The remains are skeletal. But I do have something to show you.” He pulled a small plastic envelope from his pocket and handed it to her.
Avril studied the thin gold watch. “It could be Audrey’s. She wore one as I recall, but is this it? I couldn’t say.” She gave the envelope back to McNamara.
“I understand,” he said. “Was there anything your sister wore regularly, something that went missing after she disappeared?”
“I’ve thought about that a lot.” Avril pushed herself to her feet and walked over to a glass sliding door to gaze out at the woods, which had held Audrey, or someone, for more than a half a century. “I packed u
p her things when it became clear she wasn’t coming back, and I tried to figure out what she was wearing when she left. All her clothes were here as far as I could tell. She didn’t wear much jewelry, her watch and of course her engagement ring. She left the ring here and I gave it back to Cyrus.” She was silent for a moment.
“I made a note in the family Bible so I wouldn’t forget, or in case I wasn’t around when this day came. Turns out I’m not only here, I’ve never been able to let go of those terrible weeks after Audrey disappeared. Anyway, I can tell you for sure that when she left this house the last time, she was wearing a new dress and she looked beautiful. The dress was special. She’d ordered it from Woodies - Woodward and Lothrop in DC. It’s gone now, but do you remember it?”
McNamara and Grace both nodded.
“She’d splurged, spent her entire month’s allowance from Father on a black linen sheath. It arrived the day before she left.”
McNamara’s hand dipped back into his coat pocket. “There was also this with the remains.” His voice was gentle as he held out a plastic baggie which contained a scrap of dark fabric, a frayed label still attached at one corner. The stylized gold initials were still visible. W&L.
“Audrey,” Avril whispered.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Avril wanted to be alone after McNamara left. Grace seized the opportunity to get back to Delaney House and assess the damage from the fire. She heard the angry voices as soon as she opened the front door.
“I didn’t do it, I swear!”
Winston.
Grace pushed the kitchen door open to find a pasty-faced Winston and an angry Bryce. For a moment, no one spoke.
“Let me guess what you didn’t do,” Grace finally said, pointing to the orange letters sprayed across the cabinets.
“I don’t have to explain anything to you,” Winston spat back.
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