Cluttered Attic Secrets (Tina Tales)

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Cluttered Attic Secrets (Tina Tales) Page 8

by Jan Christensen


  After a while, Tina pulled away. “We can’t do anything here,” she said, leaving out where Brandon and I used to make love.

  Hank sighed. “I know.” He looked at his watch. “In two hours, the sun will be up. We’ll wake Brandon and go to Leslie’s again. We can keep an eye on him there while we look for a secret room. Right now, let’s try to get some sleep. I’ll set the alarm on my phone.”

  ***

  A little more than two hours later after some debate, they settled Brandon in a guest bedroom at Leslie’s house. Tina thought they should all be in the attic. Brandon said it would slow them down if they had to worry about being quiet, it was daytime, so he’d be fine one floor down. Tina finally gave in.

  She and Hank climbed the attic stairs, Hank’s gun was in its holster, and Tina had stuck hers in her blazer pocket.

  “What are we going to do first?” Tina asked.

  “Tap on the walls.”

  “You think the intruder, if there is one, will open a secret door and pop out to surprise us?”

  “Always a possibility. But doubtful.” He smiled at her.

  Tina frowned and looked uneasily around the attic. Her cell phone played Whitney Houston’s “Count of Me,” making her jump. She said hello.

  Leslie asked her where she was.

  “In the attic with Hank.”

  “Where’s Brandon?”

  Tina hesitated, trying to decide what to tell Leslie about her brother.

  Before Tina could answer, Leslie said, “I’m coming home. It’s not right that the rest of you do this without me.”

  “You don’t have to.” Tina decided she’d better bring Leslie up-to-date on what they’d found. But first, Brandon. “Your brother ran into some difficulty last night.”

  “What do you mean, difficulty?”

  Tina walked over to the chair she’d used, was it only yesterday, and sat down. Hank stayed still, watching her.

  “He came downstairs to find some tissues because I was sneezing. He was looking in your bedroom when someone hit him from behind. He fell down, and Hank and I heard him, so we ran to see what happened.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “He seems fine. His head hurts a little, and he’s resting in one of your guest rooms while Hank and I work in the attic. We check on him every couple of hours.”

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Leslie hung up.

  Tina took the phone away from her ear and stared at it for a few moments. She finally hit end. “Leslie’s on her way. Let’s start tapping on the wall while we wait.”

  “Okay.” Hank pointed to the area where they’d heard the noises. “You start at that end, and I’ll try the other one. It’s going to be rough going with all the stuff in the way, but let’s try to meet in the middle.”

  They were almost done when they heard movement from downstairs. They stood listening, and after a few minutes, the attic door opened. “It’s me,” Leslie called as she climbed the stairs. “I was checking on Brandon. He’s asleep, seems to be breathing normally.”

  After Tina and Hank said hello, Leslie pointed to the chairs. “Let’s sit while you tell me everything.”

  After Tina finished explaining what they’d done after Leslie left the night before, Leslie said, “I don’t quite understand. Brandon was attacked, and you didn’t call the police?”

  Tina hesitated. “It seemed the right decision at the time. Hank is a consultant, after all, and we can do anything, maybe more, than the police. You want them trampling around in your house?”

  “Not really. And you now think there’s a secret room?” Leslie shuddered. “So someone could have been hiding in there the whole time I’ve been living here?”

  “Possible,” Hank said. “But not very likely. They may only be using it occasionally, or just found out about it, or any number of other things we haven’t thought of. Did you get to talk to your folks about this?”

  “Yes. And they saw a report on the news this morning, and that the man had a piece of paper in his pocket with my father’s name on it. But my father knows nothing about another Joshua Young. He admits that his parents hardly ever discussed family, and supposes that Joshua could be his brother. He seems totally confused about it.”

  “Maybe the murdered man was mentally challenged,” Tina said, “and hidden away because it was such a stigma back then.”

  Leslie’s eyes widened. “Hidden away in a secret room?”

  “That would explain a lot,” Hank said. “Except for who’s in there now, supposing both that there’s a secret room and a person is making the noises we’ve been hearing.”

  Tina jumped up. “If that’s true,” she whispered, “they might be able to hear what we’re saying. And the tapping we’ve been doing on the wall.”

  Hank stood up. “Let’s finish that, then start going through everything we can to see if there’re are any papers that can give us some clues.”

  “One more question,” Leslie said. “Why isn’t this Joshua Young in the genealogy?”

  Tina and Hank stared at her. Finally Tina said, “Maybe it was written after the fact by someone who didn’t know of his existence. Does that Bible have a publishing date on it?”

  “I never thought to look.” Leslie started for the stairs. “I’ll go get it.”

  “Not by yourself,” Hank said. “We’ll all go. We need to check on Brandon, too.”

  Tina and Leslie exchanged horrified glances. “I knew we never should have left him alone,” Tina rushed past Leslie and ran down the stairs.

  CHAPTER 23

  Brandon snored quietly on the bed. It didn’t look as if he’d moved since Tina last saw him.

  “He’s okay.” Leslie took a deep breath. “I’m going to wake him up, though, and get him home. Mom can watch over him.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Hank said.

  Leslie gently shook Brandon’s shoulder. “Wake up, sleepy head. Let’s go home to mama.”

  He woke slowly, blinking, then sat up, swinging his feet to the floor. He rubbed the back of his head and winced. “Sis. What’re you doing here?”

  Leslie laughed. “I live here, silly.”

  Brandon looked at Tina, his glance lingering on her face, then he noticed Hank standing in the doorway, and gazed at the floor. “The gang’s all here, I see. Find anything interesting in the attic while I napped?”

  “No,” Hank said. “We barely started when Leslie decided to come back. We’ve been catching her up on what we’ve found out so far.”

  “I’m taking you home.” Leslie touched his shoulder, frowning. “It looks as if you could use some more sleep.”

  Brandon stood up quickly, then wobbled. “I’m fine.” His voice sounded weak, and Leslie shook her head.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Need to go to the office.”

  “It’s Sunday.”

  “Oh. Okay. Mom’s not going to be happy.”

  Leslie stared at him. “You’re right. This will upset her. Damn.”

  Brandon sank back onto the bed. “Let me just stay here and rest.”

  “Not alone,” Hank said. “We need to stick together at all times while in this house.”

  “Hank’s right,” Leslie said. “Everyone out. Brandon, I’m taking you back to your place and letting you sleep until you’re all slept out. Tina and Hank, I’m sure you can think of something to do with yourselves.”

  Tina and Hank exchanged glances.

  “Look,” Leslie said. “This is my house. My problem. Right now I want everyone out while we can think about what to do next. Get up, Brandon, Put your shoes on. We’re leaving.”

  Tina stared at her friend. She’d never her seen her take charge before. She had always been a follower. Then Tina realized that Leslie ran a business, one that was doing well. She’d changed over the years, and Tina hadn’t noticed until now.

  Brandon put on his shoes and stood up, less wobbly, Tina noticed. Downstairs, they checked each door to be sure it was locked, the
n went outside and stood in the driveway.

  Leslie turned to Tina. “I’ll call you when I think Brandon is okay to stay by himself. After that I’m going to camp out at the parents’ until I figure out what to do next. Thanks so much for putting up with me and my house.” She looked up at it. “I love it. I won’t give it up.” She took Brandon’s arm and settled him into the passenger seat of her car and, with a wave, drove off.

  Tina and Hank stood looking at each other. “What should we do now?” Tina asked.

  “Talk to the old folks.”

  Tina’s eyes widened. “Which old folks did you have in mind?”

  “Your mother and uncle. My mother. Leslie can talk to her parents some more. Anyone we can find who knew the Youngs way back when.”

  “Okay, that could be interesting. Who first?”

  “How about your place? Two birds with one stone.”

  Tina grinned. “You getting ready to match Uncle Bob cliché for cliché? I’m not sure Mom would like you calling her a bird.”

  Hank smiled. “Probably not, or killing her, especially inside a cliché. I’ll follow you home.”

  When they walked into the house, Tina called out that she was home. No one answered. “They must have gone to church.” She looked at Hank. He had the intense expression that she knew meant he wanted her but wouldn’t do a thing about it. She turned away and walked to the kitchen, not knowing what to do.

  “Coffee?” Her voice was so faint, she wasn’t sure he could hear her.

  “Okay.” He sounded indifferent and wouldn’t look at her.

  She stood there. “What are we going to do?”

  He reached out a hand to her, then let it fall to his side. “I don’t know. It’s all up to you.”

  She heard tires on the gravel driveway and relaxed. “They’re home.”

  Hank nodded and sat down at the kitchen table.

  By the time Laura, Uncle Bob, and Princess came in, she’s set up the coffee maker and was putting out cream and sugar. Uncle Bob carried an Anthony’s bag that smelled of seafood.

  She smiled and took it from him to open on the kitchen counter.

  “Hello to you, too, miss,” Uncle Bob said as he hung up Princess’s leash.

  Tina laughed and turned to face him so he could read her lips. “Sorry. Hello.”

  Laura looked from Tina to Hank. “What’s wrong?”

  Tina took a deep breath. Her mother never missed a thing. She poured cream into a pitcher, and set it on the table. “We ran into some problems at Leslie’s. You haven’t heard or read the news this morning?”

  “No.” Uncle Bob glanced at the Sunday paper, still in its wrapper on the built-in kitchen desk. Then he sat down, and Princess sat beside him, looking alert.

  Tina didn’t know where to start. Then she decided. “Worst news first.”

  Laura frowned. “You sit down so Uncle Bob can read your lips, and I’ll set the food out. Good thing we bought a lot. Nice to see you, Hank.”

  Hank smiled at her and nodded.

  Tina waited until her mother finished arranging the seafood and French fries on a platter, took the lid off the coleslaw, and set out plates, and sat down. “Well?” she asked.

  “Okay. A man was murdered outside of Leslie’s house last night.”

  “What?” Both Uncle and Laura said together, eyes wide, mouths gaping.

  “Who?” Uncle Bob asked.

  “How?” Laura said at the same time.

  “They’re not sure of his identity, but he had a piece of paper in his pocket with the name Joshua Young printed on it.”

  “Not Leslie’s father?” Laura looked stunned. “Surely they’d be able to identify him by now.”

  “No. Her father is fine. Someone else with the same name.”

  “That’s very odd.” Laura took a sip of her coffee. “Does Leslie’s father know this man?”

  “He says he doesn’t.” Hank used the tongs to grab a few fried clams and put them on his plate.

  Laura raised her eyebrows. “You don’t believe him?”

  Hank shrugged. “I haven’t talked to him. Leslie did.”

  Uncle Bob looked astonished. “You think Josh is lying?”

  “Not necessarily. He could be hiding something, though. If he is, I’m sure he has his reasons.”

  Tina hadn’t thought of Mr. Young lying to Leslie. Which was why, she guessed, she wasn’t a police officer. She stared at Hank.

  “What?” He put the tongs down and looked back at her.

  “You’re so suspicious.”

  “Need to be.”

  She wondered if he’d missed something in New York, had believed what wasn’t true. She suppressed a sigh.

  “What else happened?” Laura asked impatiently.

  Tina gaped at her. “How did you know anything else had?”

  Laura smiled. “Mother’s intuition.”

  Annoyed, Tina blurted out, “Brandon was attacked.”

  This time, neither mother nor uncle said anything. They just stared at her.

  “We were in the attic, I started sneezing, and he went downstairs to get some tissues. He was hit from behind. By the time Hank and I got there, no one else was around.” She tuned to Hank. “Come to think of it, whoever it was got away awfully quick. Did you hear footsteps?”

  “You’re right. No, I didn’t hear anything except Brandon falling.”

  “Is he all right?” Laura asked.

  “Seems to be,” Hank said.

  “And how’s Leslie?” Laura moved a friend shrimp around on her plate.

  “Shook up,” Tina answered. “She decided no one should go back inside the house until we learn more about Joshua Young and about the house itself, if we can. What do you and Uncle Bob know about it, if anything?”

  Uncle Bob cleared his throat. “I can probably tell you who Joshua Young is.”

  CHAPTER 24

  “Who is he?” Tina asked. “And how do you know about him?”

  “My parents were friends with David and Catherine Young, Josh’s parents. Like most youngsters, I often stood at the top of the stairs so I could hear what the adults were talking about.” Uncle Bob paused to pat Princess on her head.

  Tina shifted around in her chair.

  Uncle Bob continued to pet Princess. “One night, late, there was loud knocking at the front door. Woke me up, so after my parents ran downstairs, I went into the hallway to listen to what was going on. It was David, and he was in a state. Crying. Barely able to talk. Catherine had had a baby a couple of years before, and something was wrong with him. He didn’t walk, didn’t talk. The doctor did some tests and told the parents he was retarded, a word I know is rarely used anymore, but it was common back then. I didn’t understand what that meant, exactly, and asked my mother later. She realized I’d overheard everything and swore me to secrecy. The child looked perfectly normal, a beautiful boy. They’d named him Joshua.”

  “Oh, my,” Tina said.

  Uncle Bob closed his eyes, then opened them and started at the wall. “One day, he was gone. Everyone thought he was dead. His parents said he died on a trip they took out of state and was buried there, quietly. Of course, everyone believed them. And when they had another son, Brandon and Leslie’s father, they named him Joshua. He must have been alive all these years. What had they done with him?”

  Tina and Hank exchanged glances. “Hid him away in a secret room?” Tina suggested.

  “Seems more and more likely there is one,” Hank said. “You think Margaret and Joshua knew about their brother?”

  “I don’t know.” Uncle Bob continued to pet Princess. “There was such a stigma then. They were born several years after the first Joshua. I’m trying to remember when he supposedly died out of state. Couldn’t have been more than four or five years old. Doing the math, I think when they had Margaret, they may have decided they needed to hide Joshua away to protect her, and I suppose, because they were ashamed. Common back then.”

  “I can imagine their fea
r when Margaret was born,” Laura said. “Would she be okay? Fortunately, she was, and then they had the second Joshua.”

  Hank shook his head. “I don’t think it would be possible to hide him away like that for years and years. He’d need a caretaker. If they hired someone, that person would probably talk, gossip, about him. They’d need to get food to him, secretly. Where did he relieve himself? How was he kept quiet?”

  “Good questions,” Uncle Bob took a sip of coffee and grimaced. “Cold. Maybe, if there even is a secret room, they didn’t use it for him. Put him away in an institution somewhere.”

  Laura got up and took Uncle Bob’s mug to the microwave, nuked it, gave it back to him, and sat down again.

  “Thanks.” He twisted the mug in his hand. “There was no support for this sort of thing in those days. Parents were on their own. Actually, it was recommended that people like Joshua be ‘put away,’ as they called it.”

  “The big question now,” Hank said, “is why was he murdered?”

  “I wonder if we’ll ever know,” Tina said.

  “I think we have a chance to find out.” Hank finished the last fried clam on his plate. “And I’m more convinced than ever that there’s a secret room in that house.”

  “How can we find it without spending a lot of time there?”

  “Call an architect. An old architect.” Hank looked at Uncle Bob. “You know of anyone?”

  “You’re asking me because I’m so old and decrepit, right?”

  Everyone laughed, and some of the tension eased.

  “Sorry,” Hank said. “You just seemed the most logical person to ask.”

  Uncle Bob nodded. “Let me think. Maybe some of the younger architects had grandfathers who built houses in Newport around the time the Young house was constructed.” He stood up. “Tell you what. Let’s go look on Tina’s computer. I’m told you can find anything on one of those things. We’ll look up architects here on the island, and I’ll see if any names ring a bell.”

  Everyone took their plates to the counter by the sink, then they went to the home office. Within a few minutes, Tina, sitting at her computer, had a list of local architects. She found about half a dozen and printed out a page for Uncle Bob to look at as he sat in his own office desk chair. Laura sat at hers, and Hank stood, resting his hip against Tina’s desk.

 

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