by Stacy Green
18
Blistering silence filled the room. Dani sat rooted to the chair. Hot tears stung her eyes, and she scrunched her face, determined not to cry.
“Ignore him,” Jaymee said. “He’s got his panties in a twist over something he doesn’t understand. Not yet, anyway.”
Teeth clenched together, jaw aching from the effort to stay calm, Dani took a deep breath and tried to gain some control over her raging emotions. “What do you mean?”
A coy smile played on Jaymee’s face. “Come on. You can’t recognize jealousy when you see it?”
Understanding dawned on Dani, and she shook her head. “I don’t think Cage is interested in me at all. Something tells me I’m not his type.” The sentence tasted bitter on her tongue. Who cared if she wasn’t Cage’s type?
“Maybe he’s right.” Her voice warbled. “Maybe I am just a walking cliché.”
Jaymee took a long drink of her disgusting tea, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. With a satisfied sigh, she set the glass down on the table, folded her arms, and gave Dani a long, thoughtful look. “Why are you here?”
“What?”
“In Mississippi, I mean. You don’t have any family here, and other than Lee, you didn’t know a single soul. I’m sure you’re great at your job, which means you could probably work wherever there is historical restoration. So again, why are you here?” She emphasized the last word.
“My mother. She and I were close. Best friends, really. She loved history, and so do I. We had so many dreams, you know? Plans, places to go, houses to tour.” The hollow ache that simmered in the depths of her heart reached a boil. “She had diabetes, and I took care of her those last years. And she just…wasted away. Dreams and all.”
“So you are following her dreams?”
“Both of ours. I always wanted to come down here, buy a plantation, fix it up. I just thought things would be different.”
“Don’t we all?” Jaymee said. “But then again, no one really expects to find bodies on their property.”
“It’s not just that. It’s everything.”
“How so?”
Dani worried her upper lip, her teeth scraping the sensitive skin. She didn’t want to break down in front of Jaymee. “I thought this place–this town, with all its larger-than-life stories–would be…” she searched for the right word. “Better.”
“You mean you thought we’d spend our time sitting on the front porch drinking tea, that all the men would bow to us ladies and treat us like we were delicate flowers? That maybe we’d roll out the red carpet for our new guest? Like royalty?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s all right. Most Northerners don’t have a clue what the real South is like, and that’s not your fault. You base your opinions on touristy traps like Natchez and Memphis and Charleston. You see us as living history, like we’re floating happily along, hoop skirts still stored in the back closet, every one of us enthralled with where we came from. And some of us are. But most of us are too busy trying to make a living to think about it. And most of us get tired of the Yankees coming down here and looking at us like we’re to be gawked at just like the plantations.
“Don’t misunderstand,” Jaymee continued. “We like that our home–and when I say home, I mean the South as one–is so interesting to you. We love that so many of you appreciate history enough to come visit and help us keep the past going. But we walk on eggshells too. Worry that we won’t live up to your expectations, because really, how could we? All you’ve really seen of the South is a glorified version.”
“People have been welcoming,” Dani said. “But I’m just an outsider.”
“Yes, you are. You’re a Yankee who can’t possibly understand what it’s like to love this place so much you just can’t leave, no matter how shitty your life is. The heat and the bugs are miserable, but they’re part of our lives. Yes, the houses are gorgeous and the colors of the oaks and the magnolias are beautiful, but being a Southerner is as much a state of mind as anything. It’s about preservation. About taking what you’re dealt and making the best of it. About taking care of yourself and saying to hell with whatever obstacle the good Lord has thrown in your path. And for most of us, it’s about taking all of that misery in with a smile, ’cause that’s all you’ve got to keep you going.”
“That’s not just a Southern thing,” Dani said.
“Maybe not. But it’s a mindset that says you take care of yourself and don’t expect anyone else to do it. When we see Yankees, we see the big businessmen who come down and try to make a fast buck off our poverty without putting any money back into the community. And we see the tourists who expect us to give them the true Southern experience while they make fun of us for being uneducated, or poor, or because our kids run around unattended.”
“But you’re just as biased as I am. You’re lumping me in with other Northerners. And that’s not fair.”
“You’re right, it’s not. But I think you need to understand what it really means to be a Southerner.”
“And why I’ll never fit in.”
“Well, that choppy accent is going to stick out like a sore thumb, that’s for sure. But you’re not exactly some pampered ninny. You might have what it takes to be an honorary Southern belle yet. My point is, forget about everything you thought this place would be. Forget about Gone with the damned Wind and Rhett Butler and every other romanticized thing you’ve seen about us. Look us at without any filter. See Roselea for what she really is–a beautiful place with both good and bad people who are just trying to get by in this world.”
“Forget about all my preconceived notions about the South, you mean.” The tightness in Dani’s chest eased. She was good at forgetting, most of the time.
“Exactly,” Jaymee said. “So it’s hot as Hades. You’ll probably burn your hand on the car door at least once, and don’t ever walk on the sidewalk without shoes on. Sweet tea isn’t for everyone. And maybe your dream home isn’t exactly what you thought it would be. In fact, it might be more of a nightmare.”
“That’s uplifting, thank you.”
“Very welcome.” Jaymee matched the sarcasm. “But you’re also here. And if you weren’t, you’d be kicking yourself for not taking a chance. So best to suck it up and march forward.”
Dani felt less like crawling into a hole for good. “I’ll try.”
“And as for Cage,” the corners of Jaymee’s mouth twitched, “I suspect he’s got some ulterior motives he’s dealing with right now. He’s just too pigheaded to realize it. But he will. Give him time.”
Dani kept her disagreement to herself. She couldn’t see Cage suddenly asking her out on a date. And she didn’t like how the idea made her stomach sink to the floor. She didn’t know Cage, and even if logic dictated to her he wasn’t guilty, he was a murder suspect. And he was moody and full of baggage.
He was also the first guy to make her pulse race in a really long time.
“Do you think he’s right about Ben?” Dani finally acknowledged her own unease.
“Who knows? It is interesting that he’s suddenly shown up, but stranger things have happened. And if he is going to try to get you to sell, he’s going to do it one way or another.”
“I’m not selling.” Dani refused to consider that option. Not after all she’d gone through to get here.
“I believe you. Which means there’s no reason you can’t go out to eat with the man. Enjoy yourself.”
“What about Cage?”
Jaymee’s smile widened, making her so pretty Dani felt a pang of envy. “He’ll get over it. In fact, it might be just what you both need.” She looked at her watched and sighed. “I’ve got to fill in for the new girl tonight. You going to be here?”
“As long as you have wireless. I can go ahead and start doing some digging on John James.”
“I do, but the fridge is mostly empty. Why don’t you come to work with me, get something to eat, and do your research? Don’t think I didn’t
hear your stomach grumbling earlier.”
* * *
Cage let the screen door to his parents’ house slam and waited for the impending yell.
Sure enough, his father’s voice boomed from the living room. “You know you ain’t supposed to slam that door.”
“Sorry.” Cage dragged off his boots and joined his father, who was sitting in his recliner with a bowl of popcorn on his lap and his trusty iced tea glass on the nearby table. Cage was the only one in his family who didn’t drink the concoction. His eyes were glued to the too-big television screen watching golf. He listened as Cage recounted his day.
“Find anything out at the historical foundation?”
“Lee knows more than he’s sharing,” Cage said. “Not sure if it’s relevant.”
“That what’s got you all pissed off?”
Cage checked the hall for his mother and then put his feet up on the couch. “Nope. I just came from Magnolia House.”
“I thought you had moved on from Jaymee.”
“I have. I just stopped by to let her and Dani know what I’d found out.” Cage plumped the cushion with his fist. “And Dani had just come from Oak Lynn. Guess which asshole is back in town?”
Oren groaned. “Ben.”
“He’s involved in this somehow, I know it. Just haven’t figured out what he’s up to. And he’s already sniffing around Dani. Asked her out. Can you believe that?”
His father looked at him, hand hovering over his popcorn bowl, and then his face spread into a double-chinned smirk. “That’ll do it.”
“What?”
“Come on, boy.”
Cage pressed his head against the hard cushion and glared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sounds like you got a case of the jealousy.”
So what if he did? “Ben is a dickhead. And probably into some illegal stuff, maybe even murder. Dani doesn’t need to get mixed up with him. She might be stubborn as hell, but she’s a nice person.”
“You tell her that?”
Guilt prodded at him. “Not in so many words.”
Oren took another bite of popcorn and then drained his tea glass. “What did you say?”
“I may have mentioned she was incorrectly informed about the South, and that her interest in Ben was driven more by her misconceptions than actual attraction.”
His father’s belly bounced with laughter. “And I’m sure you said it just like that, too.”
Cage gritted his teeth. “Ben Moore. Of all the low–level, slick jerks around her for her to pine after.”
“She know you’re interested in her?”
“I’m not.”
“Don’t be a dumbass. You’re too old to play that game.”
He grunted but said nothing. His disgust over Dani’s interest in Ben had nothing to do with any sort of attraction. Ben caused a lot of pain in Roselea, had taken the Semple farm right out from under a good family who was just fighting to hang on to its heritage. And Dani didn’t seem like she was ready for any more anguish.
Another pang of remorse struck Cage as he remembered the hurt on her face before he’d left. Yes, she was overzealous and somewhat deluded about the Southern way of life, but her heart was in the right place, and that was getting more and more rare these days.
And she believed in his innocence, had even stood up to Landers for him.
“Damnit.” He wasn’t the sort of man to run off at the mouth without thinking. The events of the past few days had him twisted out of sorts. An image of Dani’s eyes filling with tears flooded his mind, and he sighed.
“You probably ought to apologize to the lady,” his father said.
“Yeah, I know.”
* * *
Hunger caused her mind to wander. Laptop open and ignored, Dani’s gaze drifted to the rapidly filling diner seats. Roselea didn’t have a lot of restaurants, and Sallie’s home cooking supposedly made her kitchen the best in the city. Dani hoped the chicken and dumplings she’d ordered were as good as the hamburger she’d had during her dinner with Cage.
Irritation rolled through her. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about the intensity of his anger when he’d mocked her interest in the South. So what if she had a somewhat romanticized view of it? She’d done nothing but accept Ben Moore’s dinner offer. Cage had no reason to be jealous.
He’s not jealous, Dani reminded herself. He’s got a problem with Ben. That’s all.
A chorus of giggles caught her attention. A family of four had just come into Sallie’s, and the two children were being loud. Dani realized instantly they were tourists. The mother carried several shopping bags, and the father had the look of a harried man being dragged around against his will. As the family waited to be seated, the oldest child, a boy of maybe ten, complained that the houses all looked the same. And smelled old. His younger sister vehemently agreed.
“It’s too hot here,” the little girl whined. Her quick words stood out to Dani, their cadence a break in the rhythm she was slowly getting used to. This family was undoubtedly from somewhere above the Kentucky border, as Cage would say. “Why couldn’t we have gone somewhere fun like Disneyland? Or Sea World?”
“Your mother wanted to come down here,” their father said. “Enjoy the history.” He didn’t sound as though he were enjoying it. He checked his watch and then waved impatiently at Jaymee, who balanced three plates and a glass of water.
“I’ll be right with you,” she said.
“Slow,” the father said to the mother. “Everything down here is. Even the traffic moves like a snail.”
“Shush,” she said. “You’ll piss off the locals.”
He already had, Dani noticed. A couple around Dani’s age sat in the booth nearest the complaining family, and the woman’s lips were thinned, most likely in the effort to hold her tongue. The husband drank his tea and shook his head.
Dani knew what he was thinking: Yankees.
She was grateful when Jaymee seated the family at the opposite end of the diner, but her happiness was short-lived. A bell signaled another customer’s entrance, and her heart plummeted into her nervous stomach when Cage walked through the door. She tried to hunch down in the seat and hide behind her laptop, but his height made her an easy target.
He slipped into the seat across from her. “Figured you might be here.”
“Smart of you.”
“Wasn’t it? I might make detective yet.”
She refused to acknowledge his sarcasm, keeping her eyes on the computer screen. Too bad she couldn’t think straight enough to remember what she’d intended to research.
“I wanted to apologize.”
Dani cocked her head just enough to peek around the Mac’s screen. “Really?”
“Yeah. What I said at Jaymee’s, I was out of line. I let personal history between Ben Moore and me get in the way. I’m sorry.”
“I appreciate it.” She tapped her fingernail against the computer’s chrome surface, unable to meet Cage’s eyes. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t as one-dimensional as he apparently thought she was, that she realized the South wasn’t some scene out of a Faulkner novel. But her throat was too dry.
“So,” Cage said. “What are you working on?”
“Just some research.”
“On John James?”
Now she matched his gaze. “Going to make fun of me some more?”
“No.” He shrugged and then stretched a long, tanned arm over the back of the booth. He’d showered and changed, and the black t-shirt he wore hugged his muscular chest. She forced her eyes back onto his face.
“I don’t think the bones are his, but it can’t hurt to try to find out. And I get why you want to know.”
“Thank you.”
Jaymee stopped at their table. Fine lines around her mouth and eyes betrayed her frustration. “Swear to God, I’m about to spill hot gumbo on that damned Yankee dad. No offense, Dani.”
“None taken. He seems like an
ass.”
“He’s typical,” Jaymee said. She nudged Cage’s shoulder. “You want anything?”
“Nah. Mom made chicken fried steak. I ate too much. I’ll just keep Dani company.”
“You do that.” She winked at Dani. “Your food should be out soon.” She hurried off, ponytail swishing. Cage watched her retreat, an expression Dani didn’t care for crossing his handsome face.
“You have feelings for her,” Dani said.
“Excuse me?”
“For Jaymee. It’s obvious.”
“We’ve been friends a long time.”
“But you’d like to be more.”
“Once upon a time, yes.” He looked embarrassed. “For a long time, actually.” He rested his chin on his hand, dragging his thumb over his lower lip, his eyes boring into Dani’s, “I’ve moved on.”
She swallowed. “That’s hard to do.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What happened to Jaymee?” Dani couldn’t stop the question. “With the Ballards? Ben mentioned it this afternoon, and Grace didn’t want to talk about it.”
Cage grimaced. “Ben would mention that.”
“I don’t want to argue about him,” Dani said. “And the rest is none of my business, I know. But this town seems to be up in everyone’s lives, so I figure I should join the club.”
“She’s had a rough life. Things happened that were out of her control, and she wound up in the middle of Rebecca Newton’s murder.”
“As a suspect?”
“No. But my sister and Rebecca were killed by the same person, and Jaymee…figured out who. That’s all I’m going to say,” Cage said. “You really want to know, you can look it up. But she’s trying to get past it.”
“And she’d be pissed at your gossiping.”
“Wouldn’t you be?” Cage tapped the laptop. “So where to first?”
Dani welcomed the subject change. “Well, Civil War records can be hard to come by. There are all sorts of personal accounts, of course, but all of the databases depend on whether or not the person’s paper trail survived. I’ve already tried a couple of places–familysearch.org and the National Archives.”