House of Ashes

by Loretta Marion

  Attached to this article was a yellowed piece of paper scribbled with some date notations, the first written boldly in ink: E.M. & J.M. 30/06/1932. This was followed with a barely legible pencil scratching: A.M. 12/12/1937.

  My breath caught at the significance. Was this the page marker from Robert Toomey’s Bible mentioned in the article? As far as I could tell, the handwriting matched that of the letter he sent to Celeste. The dates noted by Robert Toomey represented the deaths of Percy and Celeste’s three sons, as if he’d been keeping track. I wondered, had anyone else ever pieced this together? Surely Granny Fi had. But had Zoe?

  I opened a small manila envelope and found the journal entries of which Edgar had spoken. My stomach twisted upon seeing they were in Mama’s handwriting. I was too shaken by my latest discovery to read these now, and feared facing what assuredly were the heartbreaking meditations of my mother. Quickly flipping through the pages, I discovered another sticky note with Zoe’s handwriting.

  Dear Edgar,

  I’ve enjoyed our phone conversations and am glad I’ve been able to assist with your research. Here are the letters and journal pages I told you about. When my grandmother passed, I was sent a box of her personal effects, which included some correspondence that belonged to my great-grandmother. I’ve enclosed those items I thought might be helpful. Good luck in completing the book.

  Sincerely,

  Zoe Mitchell Young

  At least now I knew how Zoe came to have these letters. But who had sent them to her in the first place? Was it Evelyn, who’d been so helpful when Granny Fi died? Had Mama’s journal been among Granny Fi’s personal effects? And where was the journal now?

  But those questions would have to wait. I had more pressing matters to deal with, and I started by calling Wizards. Teddy wasn’t working, but I persuaded the woman who answered to give me his cell number, and fortunately he accepted my invitation to drop by. It was a short drive to his marsh-facing cottage near First Encounter Beach in Eastham.

  “Thanks for letting me intrude on your day off,” I said when he answered my knock.

  “It’s cool.” He opened the door to a neatly kept and surprisingly well-appointed abode.

  “Nice place. I’m impressed.”

  “Between my mom and Jess?” He lifted his hands. “I have no say in the matter.”

  He motioned for me to sit. An early edition of Moby Dick was lying open and facedown on the coffee table.

  “You said you needed to ask me something?” He casually placed a bookmark and set the novel aside.

  “It’s about Ashley and Vince, and I’ll be frank. Something you said makes me think you knew them better than you let on.”

  He fidgeted uncomfortably but said nothing.

  “Did you ever socialize with them outside of Wizards?”

  “We may have hung out a few times.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “We went sailing once. Not much else.”

  “You have a sailboat?” I don’t know why I found it surprising.

  He leaned back on the sofa and clasped his hands behind his neck. “We borrowed one.”

  “Did they ever say anything about their plans? Where they were headed when they left Whale Rock?”

  “Only that they’d be leaving soon.”

  “That’s it?”

  He squirmed under my disbelieving gaze. “Jess asked Ashley where they were going.”

  “And?”

  He shrugged again. “Ashley started to cry and said she couldn’t talk about it. We just thought it was because she was upset about leaving. They really liked it here. They really liked you.”

  I felt a warmth deep within. “It was mutual. Then what?”

  “Two days later, they disappeared.”

  “Remember telling me about Vince’s money clip?”

  He nodded.

  “Do you think you could draw it from memory?”

  “I can try.”

  I took a notepad from my backpack and ripped out a sheet of paper onto which he sketched an image. “It looked something like this.”

  I must have looked pleased. “So that’s helpful?”

  “You’ve provided a missing link of sorts.” Or at least I hoped so. Teddy had just drawn a near duplicate of the “T” in the Temple University logo, which matched the T-shirt with the Temple owl Cindy found in Ashley and Vince’s room. If Aaron Welkman’s signet ring also bore a Temple “T,” there was more than coincidence at work here.

  Backing out of the driveway, I noticed Teddy’s gray Jeep, which sparked a memory. The friend who’d delivered Percy and Celeste’s portraits had been driving a gray Jeep, and it wouldn’t be a leap to assume it had been Teddy. No doubt he had been closer to Vince and Ashley than he was admitting. But why? What more was he hiding?

  27

  Forty days following the disappearance

  Two days had passed since Daniel and Brooks gave me the collective brush-off. I’d heard nothing since then from either of the men who hovered uncertainly in my life. It was clear that I would have to assume the role of the grown-up. What other choice did I have if there were to be some resolutions before Wednesday’s return of Misters Welkman and Bernard?

  I absently spun my phone on the kitchen table, pondering who to call first. For the sake of peace here in The Rock, Brooks won the silent debate. However, according to the clerk who answered the station phone, the chief was tending to an official police incident, and would I like his voicemail? I left a vague message with a couple of dangling carrots to pique his interest.

  Then I made the uncomfortable call to Daniel. I was sent straight to voicemail, but this time I left no message, thinking he might be more intrigued by the missed call. The strategy worked because within two minutes he phoned back.

  “Someone recognized them,” he said without even a hello. But I was too excited to care.

  “Who did? Where was this?”

  “Wait a minute. Shouldn’t I be taking this through the proper channels?” Now he was being just plain mean. “I wouldn’t want to challenge the authority of your mighty Chief Kincaid.”

  “I get it. You’re angry, and not without good reason.”

  “I only wish to keep this investigation within official boundaries.”

  I was trying mightily to control my irritation. “Look, I was in an awkward spot. By all rights, I should have taken the information to Brooks first, but I was blindsided by my eagerness to figure out what happened to Ashley and Vince.”

  “I believe you’ve been blindsided all right, but by something else. Strike that—someone else. How about explaining what’s going on between you and good ol’ Chuckles?”

  I was stunned by the insinuation. What had Brooks led him to believe? Or had Daniel’s finely honed instincts picked up on some unconscious pull between Brooks and me? And where on earth had Daniel found out about Brooks’s nickname? Had I let it slip?

  I shook my head free of all the question marks dancing the cha-cha-cha in my brain. Now was not the time to venture into the complexities of my friendship with Brooks, so I lobbed back an indignant reply.

  “Have we not evolved to the point where a friendship between a man and a woman can be accepted without inference of something more intimate going on?”

  This was met with silence, which I hoped was from shame.

  “Anyway, I called to let you know that while I understand if you can’t share with me any of the information you’ve discovered, I’ve come across some details that might be of interest to this investigation.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Do you remember the black Navigator you passed coming up my drive the other day?”

  “The art collector interested in your work?”

  “That’s right.” I paused to consider how much I should tell him. “I think he’s in some way associated with our missing friends.”

  “What drew you to this theory?” I was trying to gauge the subtle change in his voice. Was he mocking me or was there a genuine interest?

/>   “I’ve learned of a connection difficult to explain away as a fluke.”

  “You’re going to have to give me more.” Not mocking me, but definitely skeptical.

  I lowered my voice. “I don’t feel comfortable talking about this on the phone.”

  I could hear the tapping of a pen on his desk. He was at least thinking it over. Finally he asked, “So, where do you feel comfortable talking about it?”

  I had him hooked. He was taking an evening flight out of Boston, so we chose to meet at the Sagamore Inn, a place halfway between the airport and Whale Rock. I didn’t mind the drive. For one thing, it got me out of the house and away from the confusing signals Percy and Celeste had been bombarding me with of late. Their scent signals had been hard to decipher lately, and they’d practically hijacked my laptop. I also preferred to eliminate the possibility of Brooks seeing us together. Speaking of whom, a call came in from none other on the drive to my rendezvous with Daniel. I hit the “Speaker” button.

  “So what’s this about a ring?” Apparently today was not a day for good manners.

  “And hello to you too.”

  “Look, I’m busy. Do you have something for me or not?”

  “J. Aaron Welkman was wearing a signet ring.”

  “Who is J. Aaron Welkman?” That’s right. I hadn’t told Daniel or Brooks the name of my prospective buyer. And evidently Lu hadn’t mentioned it to Brooks either.

  “He’s the man who wants to purchase my collection. Anyhow, he was wearing a signet ring, and although I only got a quick look, there was something familiar about it.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “After Cindy identified the red bird as the mascot for Temple University, I did some online digging, and that’s when it came to me that this buyer’s signet ring may have had the same ‘T’ in the Temple emblem used on their rings.”

  “And where had you seen it before?”

  “Remember Teddy mentioning that Vince carried a money clip with an unusual ‘T’? Well, I stopped by his place yesterday, and he drew it from memory. The image is pretty darn close to the Temple emblem.”

  He was quiet a moment, I hoped not because I’d overstepped by contacting Teddy directly. Then he asked, “So you think there’s a connection?”

  “There has to be.”

  “How do you reconcile the fact that Agent Benjamin has not turned up the names of Ashley and Vince Jacobson in any association with Temple?” So Brooks had been conferring with Daniel on the case, even if he wasn’t up to date on the latest findings. I found myself in the middle of a precarious bridge linking the two investigations and the men in charge, and it was not a comfortable spot.

  “Is it possible the names we knew them by were aliases?” I decided to lay another card on the table. “I think Welkman is related, especially given the Temple connection. And the ‘J’ in J. Aaron Welkman’s name is for ‘Jacob.’ Jacobson.” I let that sink in for a moment.

  “That’s the link? It’s a stretch, Cassie.” He blew out a breath. “But still worth pursuing. Frequently, when criminals devise false identities, they like to hold onto a personal connection.”

  “Criminals?” I found the suggestion offensive. “How could you even think of them as criminals?”

  “Calm down. There are a multitude of reasons people seek out new identities. If your friends went down that road, we can’t eliminate the possibility they were in some kind of trouble. I’ll get on it after I finish up here.”

  “Thank you for hanging in there with me, Brooks.” I could hear a siren blaring on his end, followed by squealing tires. “Where are you?”

  “Orleans.”

  I swallowed hard. “Cindy?”

  “Yep. Gotta go.”

  What had Cindy done to bring upon herself the hot pursuit of the WRPD? Her trapped-animal reaction to my question about her financial stability came to mind, and I hated thinking her recent windfall was from ill-gotten means.

  I had an uneasy feeling as I pulled into the parking lot of the Sagamore Inn a few minutes later. Daniel was sitting at a window table, perusing the menu. He stood and pulled out the chair next to him.

  “Have you been waiting long?”

  “Five minutes. I’ve got an hour. Might as well order dinner, airplane food being what it is these days. You hungry?”

  I shook my head. My stomach was too knotted up to eat.

  He signaled for the waitress.

  “What can I get for you folks?” Dottie, her name tag revealed, was a skinny woman with leathery skin and the gravelly voice of a heavy smoker. She wore the bored look of someone who’d been waiting tables at the Sagamore Inn since its doors opened.

  “Should I go with the lasagna or Shirley’s Famous Pot Roast?” asked Daniel.

  “You can’t go wrong with either one. Our lasagna recipe was Nonna Bianco’s. She opened the place back in the 1930s.” I revised my estimation of Dottie’s tenure. She couldn’t be quite that old.

  “In that case, I’ll try the lasagna. And a glass of Chianti.”

  Dottie jotted the order on an old-fashioned cashier tablet then looked expectantly at me.

  “Just a ginger ale, please.”

  Her crinkled smile faded with the realization of a diminished tip. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

  “So who was it that recognized Ashley and Vince?” I asked after Dottie deposited our beverages, Daniel’s salad, and a basket of warm bread.

  Daniel’s mood had mellowed since our phone conversation, and he was more forthcoming. “The owner and some of the staff at a place called Johnny Brenda’s in the Fish Town area of Philly, not far from Temple.”

  “Fish Town! That’s it.” I slapped the table. “That’s where their apartment was. Maybe it will help narrow the search for student apartments located near a fire station.”

  “Still a big area. But.” He forked up a bite of salad and chewed it slowly, sipped from his wine glass, then dabbed the napkin to his lips.

  This attempt to heighten the suspense was mildly annoying.

  “You were saying?” I smiled innocently.

  “Oh yes. The faces were recognized with no problem, but the names they were remembered by were not Ashley and Vince Jacobson.” He buttered a piece of an Italian roll and tucked it into his mouth.

  “What were the names?” I asked before he had a chance to cram in another bite.

  “There’s a difference of opinion among the wait staff. Laura, Lori, or Lauren for her and for him the possibilities were Jay or JJ.”

  Jay. Short for Jacob, maybe?

  “Any last name?”

  “Working on it. There’s not a lot to go on. But we’re still circulating the photos around the university.” He pushed his salad plate away.

  “Did you learn anything else?”

  “The last time they were at Johnny Brenda’s, they both got really drunk, which was apparently out of character. Their waiter overheard part of the conversation and said “Jay” seemed especially distraught.”

  “Did he remember what they said?”

  Daniel retrieved a notebook from his pocket and flipped through the pages until he found the notation. “Jay repeated more than once to Laura, ‘All that work. Up in smoke. Nobody will ever believe us now.’ And Laura said …”

  “Here’s your lasagna, nice and hot.” The dish was placed unceremoniously before Daniel, and Dottie asked, “Can I get you folks anything else?”

  “I’ve changed my mind.” With mouth-watering aromas drifting from the kitchen, my own appetite had returned. “Could I have an order of eggplant parm?”

  “Of course, hon.” Dottie’s wrinkly face beamed at the prospect of a growing gratuity. After she left, I nudged Daniel, “You were about to tell me what Ashley—”

  “Laura,” Daniel corrected.

  “You were about to tell me what she was overheard saying.”

  “That’s right.” He flipped the notebook closed and stared purposefully at me before repeating the quot
e. “She said, ‘Out of the ashes, the phoenix will rise.’”

  I flushed hot at the memory of Daniel’s fingers tracing the outline of my tattoo. And his wickedly sensual smile was transparent enough for me to know he was also remembering the first time we made love.

  “I keep thinking to myself, now where have I heard that before?” He sucked his bottom lip suggestively.

  A strong yearning arose within me, and I found myself wishing Daniel was not bound for Logan Airport. I stopped myself short of suggesting he take a later flight, which was just as well since my desire quickly fizzled when he next spoke.

  “So what have you dug up about Aaron Welkman that makes you believe there’s a connection between him and our missing persons?” he asked casually, returning his attention to the lasagna as Dottie set the steaming eggplant dish before me. But I was suddenly nauseous. I was positive I’d never shared the identity of the art buyer with Daniel. So how did he come to know the name Aaron Welkman?

  “Something wrong, hon?” the waitress asked. “You don’t look so hot.”

  “I’m fine.” And not wanting Daniel to become aware of his gaffe, I began to eat. “Mmm. Delicious.” I decided to plow forward with my information. “I think Aaron Welkman wears a Temple University signet ring. And I remembered something Ashley mentioned one day.”

  Daniel was chewing again and lifted his eyebrows in question.

  “Thinking back on it now, it was probably something they hadn’t intended to share, since Vince redirected the conversation.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She was bragging about Vince being a triple legacy at the college they’d both attended.” There was no reaction, so I plodded on. “So I wondered if this Aaron Welkman and Vince might be related.”

  He gave me an odd look before parroting Brooks’s initial response earlier. “Because maybe they both went to Temple? That would be a real stretch, Cassie.”