Secret Keepers and Skinny Shadows: Lee and Miranda

by Mary A Russell

  “This room is spectacular. You have great taste. The wide crown molding was always my favorite. The dark hard wood floors—are they in every room?”

  “Yes, and they’re all original and took a ton of money to restore.”

  Scanning the spacious room, he remembered Joan’s comments: Miranda fell in love with and bought the old place at auction for a great price when it was in shambles only days away from being razed. Lee remembered commenting to Joan that Miranda must be trying to reach the future while living in the past.

  “Have you learned anything new about the woman and her letters?” Lee turned and made eye contact with Miranda.

  “Yes, but first I need to tell you this. Let’s take a seat at the counter. Adrian brewed a pot of coffee.”

  Lee sat on the stool beside her.

  “About two hours ago I had an interesting visitor, the doorbell rang I thought it was you.”

  “Who was it?”

  “It was a nervous, geeky looking man about forty years old. He wanted to buy the letters. I told him I wasn’t interested in selling them at this time. If I changed my mind I would call him if he would leave his name and phone number. He said he would give me a thousand dollars for them; I asked him why he wanted them. He said he was a local historian and collected old letters written by people from the area.”

  “Wow. Did he leave his name and phone number?” Lee took a sip of coffee and listened intently to what Miranda said.

  “No, he said he would contact me again in a couple of days.”

  “How did he know you had the letters?”

  “That’s the exact question I asked him.” Miranda put her arm on the counter, and looked Lee in the eyes.

  “What did he say?”

  “He said that I told a friend of mine who told a friend of his and his friend told him that I had some historical letters he might be interested in buying.”

  “Well, did you mention to your friends that you had the letters?”

  “I guess I mentioned the letters to a few people I met around town in my excitement after reading them.”

  “But you didn’t tell them what they said, did you?”

  “Yes, but I told them not to tell anyone. I guess they told.”

  “Listen, Kid, I would think you of all people especially with your background would know to keep your mouth shut.”

  “Oh Lee, what harm has it done? He was just a guy wanting to buy the letters.”

  “I can see a local historian being interested in those old letters, but paying a thousand dollars for them makes no sense,” Lee said.

  Miranda pulled a folded piece of paper from the back pocket of her designer jeans and handed it to him. He couldn’t help but notice that her nail polish matched her lipstick, a soft shade of pink.

  “Here’s a note from the man who tried to buy the letters. He handed it to me just before he went to his car. He said he had to leave, they were watching his every move, and he had to get the letters before they did. I asked who was watching him and were they watching him now? He said my life was in danger too. I laughed out loud. It sounded too preposterous, like something straight out of a mystery novel. He hurried away to his green Ford, got in and drove off.”

  Lee unfolded the paper and read it out loud.

  “Right now is all of time that exists. All past time ends where the future begins. You should take heed of the experiences of the past as they will shape your future. The letters will lead you if you know how to follow the clues in them. You should push forward redeeming the time and your life.”

  Lee stared at the note for a few minutes, clenching and unclenching his jaw thinking, what have I gotten myself into? He glanced up at Miranda, who was staring back at him.

  “What does that mean?” he asked. “Is he trying to tell us to back off or to keep going? You should take heed of the experiences of the past as they shape your future while redeeming the time and your life. What’s he telling us? That the answers are in our research and will lead to who killed Joan’s uncle? And why would he tell us that when he was trying to buy the letters for himself, or was it for someone else?”

  “You got me, Lee. Those are all good questions, and I’ll bet that some if not all of what Lilly says in her letters is true.”

  Lee stuffed the note into his pants pocket.

  “What do you mean ‘Lilly’?” he said. “You sound like you’re old friends with her.”

  “After reading her letters I feel like I’ve known her for years. You read them, don’t you feel that way?”

  He put his cup down on the counter. “Well, I feel I know and understand her, but I’m not sure I’d say I feel I’ve known her for years. We’ve got a lot to think about?”

  “For right now I should get you settled. Follow me to where you’ll be staying.” Lee followed Miranda down a long hall leading to the back of the house. “You can have access to the rest of the house, except for Adrian’s quarters on the other side, and stay out of the upstairs—that’s my domain. You shouldn’t need to go up there at all.”

  “What if I need to go there for something?”

  Miranda narrowed her eyes. “You stay out of my bedroom areas unless you’re invited. And I don’t see that happening?”

  “Okay, but I’m not that easily discouraged, even with big old hunky Adrian around.” He flashed a playful smile.

  “Oh!” She stopped and stared into Lee’s sea blue eyes. “Adrian has been with me for a long time. I don’t know what I would do without him.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  She opened her mouth to say something, then stopped short, turned and opened the door in front of them.

  “This is where you’ll be staying, it has a full bath and a walk-in closet. I see Adrian has already brought in your bags. As I said, Adrian does the cooking, we’re not formal diners, he usually eats with me, and you’re welcome to join us.”

  “Wow. This is nice.” The large room had a small seating area with glass doors leading out onto an expansive wooden deck with a couple of chairs and a chaise. Lee strolled over to the patio doors to take in the view. Stretching out behind the house was a field of grass with shrubs, trees, a small pond surrounded by chairs and cement benches for seating. The lawn stopped at the edge of a stand of tall trees that led into the forest at the foot of one of the high peaks mountains.

  “Does your property go back to the woods?” Lee asked as Miranda joined him in front of the doors. She held up her hand and pointed to the distance.

  “No, it goes back to that mountain.”

  “It must be nice,” he said.

  “The privacy is wonderful.”

  Lee had to admit that Miranda provided him with all the comforts of home. He turned and glanced around the room. On the dresser on the far side of the room was an eight-by-ten framed photo of Lee and Joan. It had been taken when they were on their honeymoon. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Miranda watching him.

  “I didn’t know you still had that picture. Joan was so excited to give it to you.”

  “I know, and I was excited that she wanted me to have it. This is the room Joan always stayed in when she came to visit, she felt at peace staying here, we had a lot of good times together.”

  “If only I had taken the time to come with her. I made a vow to solve this murder for Joan no matter how long it takes. I intend to see it through to the end. I hope you will be with me.” He turned and looked Miranda in the eyes.

  “Better late than never I guess. I, too, wish you had taken the time to come and visit with Joan. She had become so lonely toward the end. Yes Lee, I will be with you to the end of this, no matter what that turns out to be. Joan would have liked to see this finished,” she said, pulling away from the moment, “let’s move on to other things.” She pointed to the closet. “You have plenty of space to put your clothes. I’ll leave you so you can unpack or I can have Adrian do it for you if you like.”

  “That’s okay, I can handle it on my own.” Yeah, right. I
don’t want Adrian handling my underwear, he thought. “I’m sure Adrian is busy getting dinner ready.” He placed his suitcase on the bed, then opened it and started to unpack.

  “When you’re finished, come out to the computer room, it’s down the hall on the left. We’ll have a few minutes to look at some things before dinner.” Miranda moved to the door and was closing it behind her.

  “Okay, thanks, Miranda.”

  She stopped and poked her head back in the door. “That’s better. I like my name.”

  He looked up from his suitcase, nodded, smiled, and went back to unpacking. After putting his things away, he stretched out on the king-size bed. It was just right. He was staring at the ceiling mulling things over in his mind.

  He got up and shook his head to clear his brain, then made his way down the hall where he found Miranda. She was fast at work on a computer in a spacious office and library combination room. She looked up at him. He stopped in his tracks and stared at her. He was thinking she had become more beautiful with age. Miranda broke the silence.

  “Adrian will have dinner ready in about thirty minutes. It’s getting late. We waited so we could eat with you.”

  “Thanks. That was considerate.”

  “It was Adrian’s idea not mine. You can sit in this chair.” She shoved a computer chair in his direction. He pushed it over beside her and sat down.

  “Well, my curiosity is way beyond ready to learn what you’ve found out,” he said. “When are you going to let me hear all about it?”

  “I know you want to hear all about the research, but it’s getting late. I’m tired. All I want to do is eat and go to bed. I have exercise classes in the morning, and I need to get my rest. I think you should wait until tomorrow. You look pretty tired to me.”

  “I might have trouble sleeping thinking about everything.”

  “Tomorrow, after you’ve finished going over what I’ve learned, we should look into everything Lilly has to say to see if the people she talked about really did exist. Or for that matter who she was. All we know about her is what’s in the letters. We don’t even know where she’s from.”

  “After I review the information you’ve dug up, I think we should visit Joan’s sister Jane to see what she can tell us about all of this.”

  “That’s a good idea. It’s been a couple of months since I’ve seen Jane. We’ve both been too busy to get together.”

  Lee stood, “Oh, I didn’t know you spent time with Jane.”

  Miranda stopped typing long enough to shoot an irritated look in his direction. “There are many things you don’t know, Lee, Jane and I go way back. She’s single now, so we go out for dinner every now and then.”

  At that moment, Adrian called for them to come to dinner.

  After eating, Miranda turned to Lee and said, “Good night. See you in the morning.”

  He smiled and said, “Sleep tight, Miranda. If you get lonesome, you know where I am.”

  She glanced at him, shook her head in frustration, and stomped upstairs. Lee chuckled to himself on his way back to his room mentally and physically tired. He was about to flop on the bed, but his attention was drawn to the photo on the dresser. He picked it up, studied it, and then placed it back in its spot. He ran his finger around the edge of the frame. I’ll make it right, I’ll solve this murder for you, Joan.

  CHAPTER 13

  Present Day

  For the last twenty years Lee, like F. Scott Fitzgerald, put into practice training his mind to operate while holding two opposing ideas at the same time and still retain the ability to function.

  When Lee was faced with a situation that appeared to be hopeless, he never gave up. He became more determined to turn it around. His big weakness was being a sucker for the underdog and a beautiful woman.

  At sunrise the next day perched on a stool in Miranda’s kitchen resting his elbows on the counter, Lee scanned the local morning newspaper. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Miranda standing behind the counter next to Adrian, reading the other side.

  Miranda grabbed the paper. “Give me that,” jerking it from his hands her eyes fixed on the front page.

  “What the heck Kid? Please, here, have the paper.”

  She ignored him and flopped it onto the counter. Her eyes darted back and forth on the page then she stopped, looked up at Lee while tapping her finger on a picture on the page.

  “Lee, this is the man who was here yesterday trying to buy the letters.” She turned the paper toward him. “That man, right there.”

  He gave the article the once-over, making comments while reading it.

  “It looks like James Robinson was killed on impact, hit by a train when his car stalled on the tracks at Blake’s Crossing. Sure enough, says he was the local historian in Bridgetown, had a wealth of knowledge about the area and the people.”

  Lee glanced up.

  “I guess it wasn’t my life that was in danger after all, it was his,” Miranda said.

  “At least now we know the man’s name,” Lee said, twisting a few strands of his hair while pondering this development.

  Miranda interrupted Lee’s thoughts.

  “Okay Lee, the guy was killed after coming here. Could his death be tied to his interest in the letters? And what about the people he said were watching him? Who are they and why would anyone want those letters? This gets more intriguing by the hour.” Miranda crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter gazing at Lee.

  “Listen Kid, it could be a coincidence, just a car-train accident, as the paper said. It happened at night maybe this Mr. Robinson drove onto the tracks his car stalled and he couldn’t get it started.”

  Miranda glanced at Lee with a confused look. “Okay, so why didn’t he jump out before the train hit him?”

  Lee got up from the stool and shook the kinks out of his legs. “I don’t know the answer to that one, but there must be a good reason, it looks like this is going to be dangerous to be involved in, maybe I should do this on my own. I can stay in a local hotel so you won’t be connected.”

  Miranda glared in Lee’s direction and scowled. “Oh come on Lee, this hasn’t scared me. I could protect both of us. Right now we should finish up here and get started with everything we have to do. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

  Adrian handed Miranda a glass with a red creamy smooth drink in it. She took a sip. “Hum, thank you, Adrian. It’s just the way I like it.”

  Lee watched her lips as she sipped the smoothie.

  “Don’t tell me that smoothie is all you’re having for breakfast?”

  “At my age I need to be on a diet and working out all the time. And from the looks of you, you should as well. What are you, two hundred and fifty pounds? That graying hair around your temples shows your age and working out might be good for you. Speaking of, I have to be at the gym pretty soon.”

  “Hey now, wait a minute. I’m in great shape,” Lee said as he fingered his slightly bulging belly. “I’m all lean muscle, getting a little pooch here, that’s all.”

  Miranda strolled over to the garage door. “Okay Lee.”

  Miranda had once told Lee that her family often accused her of being flighty or hyper, with the attention span of an ant, which he knew wasn’t true. He figured her family saw her this way since she took on new projects constantly and handled multi-tasking with ease. That was one of her greatest assets. She was a Pisces. She often looked and acted like she couldn’t make up her mind when in reality she was focused and choosey.

  “I was hoping,” Lee said, “to hear what your thoughts were on Lillian and the letters.”

  “You need to read what I have so far. I did a lot of research, but not a lot of investigation. I thought I’d wait to do that with you.” Miranda shifted from one foot to the other and turned around and faced Lee. The tone in her voice changed.

  “Here’s what I think so far. The letters to Elizabeth are a journal of Lillian’s struggles seeking the truth about Bert Grayson’s murder. She was trapped
in a marriage with a man who ruled with an iron fist. He hit her and shoved her around when he was drunk. To me, the letters revealed this woman’s journey through a not so forgiving world, trying to change hearts and minds in a desperate attempt to seek happiness.”

  “Oh come on, I read the letters too. It sounds like you’re agreeing with her even before we find out if she’s telling the truth or making up all that stuff we read.”

  “Not at all. As a woman I can empathize with the situation she found herself in.”

  “Now what do you mean by that? Are you saying as a man I can’t empathize with her?” Lee squared his shoulders.

  “Yes and no. As I read each letter she sucked me into her world by exposing her raw feelings, explaining how each person, place and event changed her life, driving her to the actions and reactions of the narcissistic, disturbed person she in the end became.”

  His eyes widened in surprise to hear her talk about feelings in such a natural tone.

  “So… are you saying you think she was nuts?”

  A frown formed at the corners of her mouth. “That’s not nice. Make no mistake about it, I wouldn’t say she was as disturbed and confused as she appeared to be. I think she was a victim of events manipulated by a corrupt police department, mafia figures, and the other people involved. I think cold calculating men worked to cover up the truth that Lilly knew and they tried to silence her by making it look like she was a crazy woman.”

  He shook his head. “If what you’re saying is true why didn’t these people just kill Lilly?”

  She gave him a half smile.

  “I thought about that as well. The conclusion I came to was, there were already too many bodies piling up. Any more would attract the attention of the federal government. Nothing brings in the FBI faster than an extraordinary amount of murders in a given time period in any town. They track that kind of information.”

  He nodded in agreement, “you would know that better than I would.”

  “At the time Joan gave me the letters, she said the people in her family didn’t think Lilly actually knew her Uncle Bert. The family unjustifiably accused her of being one of those nut cases who read about a murder, then would try to get involved with it somehow. Joan said her family knew the woman was a mental case.”