by Stacy Green
The stale odor of a locked up room and old clothes greeted them. In the corner was an old bed stand and some boxes, and Dani was pretty certain something large with eight legs scuttled for cover. She ran her hand along the wall until she found the light switch–or rather, the old fashioned dial.
As expected, the walls and flooring weren’t in great shape. The hardwoods were heavily scratched, and the plaster walls were peeling. Gina stepped around Dani and did a quick sweep of the room. The closet doors were missing, which infuriated Dani, but she kept her mouth shut.
“Looks about like I expected, but I’ll come back to it,” Gina said. “Let’s get to the locked rooms.”
Directly across the hall was the master bedroom. Lee had noted on the blueprints the room was believed to have originally belonged to Grayson and then handed down to his son, John James.
Anticipation raced through Dani, making her head throb and her hands tingle. Records indicated much of the family furniture from this room had been sold or thrown away by the time CaryAnne died, but still, this was the room where two generations of Laurents had laid their heads.
“No skeleton key lock?” Gina asked as Dani turned the key.
“Nope. As modern as the rest of the house.”
Dani opened the door. At twenty-by-twenty-four, the room’s size was indicative of the Laurents’ onetime wealth. Directly across from the door was a large window complete with a built-in seat, the glass too grimy to see out of. To the right was the closet, Dani guessed. Probably a large walk-in with a dressing area. The bed likely would have been against the opposite wall, with the dresser to the right or left of the door.
But the room was bare.
Except for the cot sitting beneath the picture window that overlooked the backside of the property.
21
Dani stood frozen in the doorway. The cot looked like the kind a person could buy in any outdoor store. A blanket and small pillow were perched neatly at the head of the bed, as though their owner had simply made up the bed for the day and intended to return.
“The door was locked.” Gina’s voice broke the silence. “Someone had the key. To the house, and the key to this room. No doubt about that now. Stay here.”
Gina snapped on a pair of latex gloves, scanning the room as she made her way to the makeshift bed. She pointed to the blanket and pillow. “Dusty. Haven’t been used in a while.”
“The floors,” Dani choked out. “They’re refinished.” She knelt down and traced her finger along the seam separating the master bedroom from the hallway. “Sanded and stained.”
“That would have drawn a lot of attention.”
“Not if he did it by hand.” Pressure built in Dani’s temple. Why would someone go to the trouble of restoring this room? And why had they been sleeping there? More importantly, how had someone gotten inside this room without climbing the rickety stairs and walking in the dust-covered hallway?
Gina set her kit down, opened it up, and pulled out a digital camera, a second pair of latex gloves, and blue paper booties. She slipped on her own protective wear and then tossed the booties and gloves to Dani. “I’m going to take some pictures. Put these on.”
“Should I turn on the light?”
“If you’re gloved, and you can do it without entering.”
The dial was just to the left of the door, much like the guest room, so Dani was able to turn it easily. The fixtures in the master bedroom, however, weren’t as modern. Four iron candelabras, likely having replaced gas lightening, flickered to life. Spaced evenly throughout the large room, they provided a modest amount of light.
Dani tried to get her thoughts straight. Either someone had gotten into this room using the house’s main entrance or the precarious stairs, or there was another way. Going by the layers of dirt on the stairs and in the hallway, it was hard to imagine anyone had walked the halls for a long time.
“How does the dust on the bed compare to what was in the hallway and on the stairs?”
“Much less.”
The ache in her knuckles reminded her she still clutched the blueprints. Quickly, she stepped back into the hall, dropped to her knees, and spread the prints out across the hallway floor.
“What are you doing?” Gina asked.
“Looking at the blueprints and trying to figure out how someone got in here.”
“I’d like to say the windows, but they look like they haven’t been opened in a decade,” Gina said.
“There has to be a passage,” Dani said. “Unless this room has some kind of super-secret dust repellant, it’s the only explanation.”
Gina’s mouth set in a tense line. “I’m starting to think you might be right.”
“Dumbwaiter.” Dani said. “It’s on the north wall, to your right, between the closet and the western windows. Supposed to be, anyway.”
Gina crossed the room. She ran her hand along the wall. “It’s been patched up. I can see the plaster marks underneath the paint. You’re the expert, but I’d guess it’s been like this for a while. And it would take two people to get someone up here on a dumbwaiter.”
“Unless he crawled up the shaft.”
“He didn’t. This has been sealed.”
Dani went back to the blueprints. Nothing about the master bedroom stood out. “Let’s look in the closet.”
“Fine,” Gina agreed. “But don’t touch anything you don’t absolutely have to.”
The closet doors were made of the same dark wood as the rest of the interior. Dani again examined the locking mechanism. “It’s warded.”
“Meaning a skeleton key probably opens it.”
“If it weren’t busted, yes. But the mechanism that snaps the lock into place is completely rusted.” The knob turned unevenly, emitting an angry creak.
The walk-in closet wasn’t as grand as some Dani had seen, but it was impressive. Built-in compartments for shoes, drawers, a changing area, and rotting hanging rails were all original. “This room is directly over the butler’s pantry,” Dani said. “If there is a secret stair or hidden entrance to this room, it’s got to be in here.”
“Let’s start looking,” Gina said.
* * *
Located ten minutes away in Natchez–another one of Mississippi’s historical hubs–the Adams County Coroner had a small set of offices on the first floor of a two-story brick building on South Wall Street. Cage bypassed the rest of the city offices and headed straight for Jeb’s modest space in the basement.
He leaned against the elevator wall fighting to keep his eyes open. He’d been up half the night thinking about Dani and Jaymee’s safety at Magnolia House. The mansion did have an alarm system, but it was ancient.
And his excitement over his growing feelings for Dani hadn’t exactly put him to sleep. He’d been so frustrated at her pseudo defense of Ben. He’d never been jealous of Jaymee like that. Not even when he believed he’d never love anyone else but her, even when his sister and parents had encouraged him to let go.
The elevator reached the basement just as the image of Dani standing, slouched and sad, in front of him last night went through his mind.
Seeing Jaymee cry had never hurt his heart like Dani had last night.
Jeb had the day off, his secretary informed him. He’d have to direct his questions at Billy, the coroner’s intern.
Of course Jeb had the day off. Same day every week. Billy was exactly who Cage wanted to see.
“Come on into Jeb’s office,” Billy said. “We’ve only got three rooms back here, and the others are full of records and training materials.”
“Nice of Jeb to let you use his office.” Tucked in the corner of the building, the office was cluttered but immaculate. Filing cabinets lined one wall, certificates another, along with county and state maps. A green plant, its tentacle-like vines stretching to the floor, hung in the window.
Billy grinned, gesturing to the small table and chair crammed under the eave near the window. “He gives me some space since I’m only h
ere during the summers.”
“You’re studying biology?”
“Yeah, I’ll be a senior.” Billy chewed on his lower lip, crossing one long arm over his chest and scratching the back of his closely cropped, dark hair with another. “So, what can I do for you?”
“I need a favor.” Cage lowered his voice. “Gina’s playing this thing really close to the vest, you know?”
“I’m sure. With what happened with the Ballards a couple of months ago and now this, people are nervous. And I guess the mayor’s office is worried about tourism falling off. Especially since the working theory is that some psycho is grabbing travelers.” He shifted his feet, breaking eye contact. “And Jeb said you’re a suspect until they clear you. But he says that’s all a technicality,” Billy hurried to add.
“It is, but it’s a pain in my ass,” Cage said. “I’d like to get my name cleared and help this mess get solved.” He checked over his shoulder and then stepped forward to close the distance between him and Billy. “Look, I know Jeb’s in the loop, which means you’re in the loop.”
“Not really, although Jeb did tell me the medical examiner says the bones are definitely old, possibly Civil War era.”
“Any idea of the victim’s sex? Or how old the bones actually are?”
“Not that I’ve heard. Medical examiner sent the bones to the anthropology department at Ole Miss without looking at them. Pretty disrespectful if you ask me.” Billy picked up the heavy paperweight off his makeshift desk. He glared at the glass. “Probably a slave or a Natchez Indian. Buried like trash by a white racist.” He shook his head. “But that’s all I really know.”
Cage didn’t believe him for a minute. “Jeb sees a lot of potential in you, and I can’t say I blame him. And like you said the other day, this is a learning experience for you. So I’m sure he’s shared what he knows.” He hated to play the kid, but getting the information took precedent over his guilty conscience.
“Even if he has, I can’t give you the information.” Billy scratched the stubble on his chin. “You know I’m on scholarship at school, right? I mess up something like this and get in trouble with the cops, I could lose it.”
“I know I’m putting you in a shitty position,” Cage said. “But my parents are really upset. They know I’m innocent of course, but they don’t want my name to be dragged through the mud. You know my family has been through a lot the past several years. I’d be grateful for anything you might be able to tell me–for any bit of information I could use to ease their minds.”
“Man, Cage. You’re asking a lot.” Billy glanced back at Jeb’s desk, and Cage could tell he wanted to talk.
“Please, as a favor to me.” Cage gave him one final push. “I’d owe you big time.”
“You’ll just tell your parents?” Billy said.
“Scout’s honor.” Cage winked at him.
“If I get pinched for this,” Billy pointed a long finger at Cage, “I’m telling everyone you pressured me. Got it?”
“Agreed.”
The intern finally nodded. “All right. The medical examiner thinks both men have been dead for less than a year.”
Anxiety latched onto Cage. “I thought there was a receipt that was eighteen months old?”
“Yeah, and the M.E. at first thought that coincided with what she was seeing. But then she started the real examination, and she’s changed her estimate on the time of death. It’s not definite,” Billy said. “And time of death is really hard to establish, especially when the body has been left for so long. You know that.”
He did know that. But the medical examiner’s theory didn’t help his case for innocence. “Do they have any leads on the victims’ identities?”
“The first man–the one Dani found–was in a lot better shape. The medical examiner was able to get a partial print and is working on an I.D.”
“Great. Anything else?”
“This is the confidential part.” Billy rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around Cage at the door yet again.
“You have my word.”
“She found something in one guy’s pocket.” Billy’s voice was so low Cage had to lean forward to hear.
“Something to identify him?”
“Not exactly.” Billy circled around Cage to shut the door. “A cameo brooch. And it’s old.”
22
Hours later, drenched with sweat and a gritty sheen of dust, Dani had found nothing in the closet or any part of the master bedroom. There were no hidden panels, movable slats, or secret compartments. Every plank in the hardwood floor held firm. The many drawers of the built in bureau were empty, and the armoire didn’t open into a hidden area like a house she’d once restored in Indiana.
There was nothing.
Landers had arrived with the crime scene technician in tow, but from what Dani overheard during her search, the room was clean of prints. They would process the cot and bedding in hopes of a forensics hit, but it would take days if not weeks for a result.
One by one, she, Gina, and Landers inspected the other rooms upstairs. A washroom in terrible disrepair, the pipes corroded, and the porcelain sink in two pieces on the scarred floor. A smoking room, the heavy smell of tobacco still lingering. More locked guest rooms, both thick with dust and darkened by bug-infested curtains. A ladies’ retiring room that connected to the second largest bedroom in the house, the one known to be CaryAnne’s. The room she had died in.
Her furniture was gone, along with any window dressings. Scuff marks in the floor told the story of a room that was likely decorated the same for many years. Her closet was nearly as big as the master bedroom’s and connected to the retiring room, a place often used for ladies attending the various balls given by the Laurents to rest before resuming the dance.
Another window was at the end of the hall. To the left of it, over the great hall, were two rooms used for the house servants. They weren’t much bigger than the walk-in closet Dani had spent hours searching.
Room by room, closet by closet, she searched. She found almost nothing but bad floors, cracked plaster, and emptiness. The larger of the two servants’ rooms had a loose floorboard, and she’d pulled it open with excitement. Nothing more than a space roughly six-by-six, probably once used by a slave to store precious items the master didn’t allow.
The servants’ stairs were a narrow deathtrap wedged into the southeastern corner of the house that opened into the great hall, so that house servants could easily attend to guests. Gina decided to obey Guy’s warning and refused to let anyone on the steps. Covered with massive cobwebs and critters running for their lives, it was clear that stairwell had been empty for some time.
“Maybe you’re missing something,” Landers insisted when Dani finally gave up. She sat right down in the middle of the ballroom, limp with frustration.
Privately, she agreed. “I’ve searched everywhere I’d expect to see a hidden entrance. There’s nothing.”
“You’re the expert,” Landers griped. “You tell me what we should be looking for.”
“I just don’t know.”
“There has to be something else,” Gina said. “Maybe I was wrong about the windows. Or the bedding has been there longer than we think.”
“The windows were jammed shut,” Dani said. “He didn’t come through them. There is another way. I just have to find it.”
“You’ve done all you can for now,” Gina said. “All the rooms are opened. You know what kind of shape things are in. You’ve checked the locks. I really think it’s best if you step aside unless we call you back to search again.”
Dani pushed a lock of damp hair off her face. “He’s right. I’m missing something.”
“Let us look,” Gina said. “You go back to Magnolia House. Get a shower, something to eat. Then go to the historical foundation and research that letter. I trusted you, and now it’s your turn to do the same for me.”
The young crime scene technician came into the room carrying something in his gloved hand. �
��Found something.”
“Where?” Gina said.
“Renters’ bedroom. In the far corner of the closet, as though it had been kicked aside.” He opened his fist to reveal a pocket watch. “It’s old, right?” His question was directed at Dani.
She got to her feet for a better view. “Given the marred and yellowed state of the glass and the gold, it looks like it. But there’s no way to tell without checking the serial number. Is there an engraving?”
“Nothing,” the tech said. “You think the watch could have been a Laurent family heirloom the historical society missed?”
“Doubtful, especially if you found it in the renters’ bedroom,” Gina said. “Who knows how many people came and went from there? I’d say it’s more likely the owner accidentally dropped it.”
“I’m not sure it’s quite that old, either,” Dani said. “I’m not an expert on watches, but this looks more like something from the 1940s. The Laurent men were dead by then.”
“Tag it and bag it,” Gina said. “Run it for prints. Maybe we’ll get something.”
“I’ve got a colleague in Indianapolis who specializes in historic jewelry. If I could send her a picture–”
“It’s evidence,” Landers said. “We’ve got our own expert contacts. We’ll handle it.”
Dani raised her hands in defeat. “I’ll head out, then.”
Gina promised to call her with any news. Landers walked her to the entrance, hands stuffed into his pockets.
“Saw your shoes by the door,” he said.
Dani paused to look at her bare feet. The soles were dirty. She’d forgotten.
“I got stuck in the mud this morning.”
“Doesn’t surprise me.” He looked surprisingly sympathetic.
She waited for him to make a disparaging Yankee remark, but he simply held open the front door for her. The rain had finally ceased and air stickier than cotton candy had replaced it.