Skeleton's Key (Delta Crossroads Trilogy, Book 2)

by Stacy Green

  “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.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Family search is like Ancestry.com. It’s usually family members tracing their lineage. Since the Laurents have no known living descendants, nothing is coming up.”

  “And the National Archives don’t have anything? He served with General Lee in the Army of Northern Virginia. That’s pretty well documented.”

  “You’re right. And they no doubt have something, just nothing online. I could order the microfilms of service records, but those will take weeks to get here.”

  “Well, the historical foundation has records,” Cage said.

  “They have records from Roselea. Back in those days, the records relied on information given to them by the family, which could be biased. I want some sort of non-local proof that John James served under Lee.”

  “Meaning you want someone with authority to say you’re right.”

  “That’s generally the best way to research.” Dani typed her last option into the search bar. “I’m hoping the National Parks Service will have the information. I was just about to check them out when you distracted me.”

  “You looked like you were already distracted.”

  She made a face. “People watching.”

  “Good times. And the Park Service? Why would they have war records?”

  The site had finally loaded. “Because, they have been working on the Soldiers and Sailors Civil War database for quite a while now. It’s just an index with pretty basic information, but the entries are supposed to be based on what’s listed in the National Archives. His full name was John James Laurent, right?”

  “Far as I know.”

  “He’s here. John James Laurent. Enlisted in 1860 with the Mississippi 18th Infantry as a Lieutenant. Transferred in 1862 to the 21st Infantry and then to the Army of Northern Virginia. Left Confederate Army as a Colonel.”

  “So our history’s right,” Cage said. “Confirmed by your sources. Make you feel better?”

  Dani was too distracted to worry about the hint of sarcasm in his voice. She closed the laptop. “I just don’t understand.”

  “What?”

  “Well, Roselea’s a small town. It was even smaller when John James died. And while I may not know as much about the South as I thought, I do know you all take your Civil War heroes very seriously.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Does John James have his own monument? There’s nothing in the park–what about the cemetery?

  “Nope. We’ve only got one Civil War monument, and his name is on it.”

  “But you’d think he’d have a special monument.” Dani rapped her fingernails against the table. “Why didn’t CaryAnne have something put up?”

  “You’d have to ask her.” Cage grinned. “Since she’s not around, I’m not sure you’ll ever have the answer.”

  “Unless we already do.”

  “The bones.”

  “Right. CaryAnne didn’t memorialize his grave because she didn’t want to draw attention to it. Because he isn’t there.”

  “But how on earth are you ever going to prove–or disprove–that?”

  “I have no idea.”

  19

  He insisted on following Dani back to Magnolia House. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, Cage told her. He’d make sure she got inside safely, as if there were monsters hiding inside the old house.

  Cage was fairly certain he just wanted to see her again.

  But that made no sense. She came from a different world than he did, and she was everything he’d never been interested in. Dani was pretty enough but was too blond, too fair, with too many freckles on the bridge of her nose for his taste. And more bullheaded than any woman he’d ever met–including Jaymee.

  Why couldn’t she trust the history he and Jaymee had given her? He supposed it was her academic nature, but Roselea’s hand-me-down stories were a source of pride for its residents–another Southern trait she was yet to fully understand. Instead of taking a hundred plus years of local teaching as fact, she’d needed an official government website for verification.

  He didn’t understand her. But he couldn’t stop thinking about his dad’s comment, that Cage was jealous because he was interested in Dani.

  His brain was murky, clogged with confusion. When he looked at Jaymee, he no longer felt sadness. Or jealousy. Even longing. He felt…guilt. But why should he? She was with Nick and had urged Cage to move on. He’d assumed that meant just accepting the two of them would never be together–that he would have to come to terms with the hollow ache that lived inside him. Go through life numb and consider that a win.

  Somewhere between the old bones, the dead bodies, and the bullheaded Yankee woman, he was no longer desensitized. Energy had his body revved up in ways he’d nearly forgotten about, leaving him with the urge to pull Dani close. And Cage had no idea what to do.

  He parked behind Dani’s rental and caught up with her on Magnolia House’s front steps. “How long do you have this thing for, anyway?”

  “Two weeks,” Dani said. “Then I’ve got to fly back to Indianapolis, get the rest of my stuff, and drive back here in my own truck.”

  “You have a truck?”

  “You seem surprised.”

  “You don’t really se
em the type.”

  “Maybe you misjudged me.” Standing above him on the top step, Dani looked straight into his eyes. Blood pulsed through him, leaving Cage dizzy and breathing harder than he needed to. Dani licked her lips, the uncertainty on her face matching the confusion clouding Cage’s head. He finally realized he should say something.

  “Guess I did.”

  Dani turned away, crossing the porch to the front door, breaking the tension. Cage shook his head to clear the fog.

  An envelope was balanced precariously inside the screen door. Dani reached for it. “Don’t you all believe in mailboxes?”

  “It’s at the end of the drive.” Chills broke out on Cage’s overheated skin. Dani’s name was carefully printed in blue marker across the middle of the envelope.

  “It’s for me.” Worry crept into her voice. “Who would leave me something? Not very many people know I’m even here, let alone staying at Jaymee’s.”

  “This is Roselea. By now, everyone knows you’re here. Let’s go inside and open it.”

  Flipping on the lights, Dani headed for the kitchen.

  “I’m not sure about this,” Cage said. “Who leaves an unsigned envelope nowadays?”

  “Someone who didn’t have my number.” Dani disappeared into the kitchen, and Cage quickly followed.

  He grabbed a dish towel and then held out his hand. “Let me see it.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m a cop. Humor me, okay?”

  She relented, her smile making it clear she was doing exactly that. Cage turned the envelope over. It was plain white, the blue scrawl standing out under the kitchen’s yellow light. He held the paper up to the overhead fluorescents. “Looks like there is some sort of letter inside.”

  “What else would there be?”

  He didn’t answer, instead carefully opening the envelope and making sure his hands were protected by the towel. He shook the envelope, and a brittle looking piece of paper fluttered to the counter. Yellowed with age, the letter was written in the classic scrawl of a fountain pen with various ink blots scattered across the page.

  “My God.” Dani snatched the towel and picked up the letter as though cradling a newborn. With the tips of her trembling fingers, she unfolded the fragile page and read aloud:

  August 9, 1883

  Dearest Cary,

  I am writing to inform you of my safe arrival to Natchitoches. The journey has been long and arduous, fraught with uncharacteristic summer rains. I should have written this letter last night upon my immediate arrival, but my body was weary. It’s been many years since I have traveled so far, and I am grateful this time was not by my own feet.

  This morning I make ready to meet with my old friend and examine the property he is so eager to purchase. Louisiana is a land rich with natural resources, and the Cane River fields bloom with cotton that stands taller than your fair head. Free negroes still work the land, and the crop prospers from their skills. I think I will find this venture a fine investment, and our dear Ironwood will profit greatly.

  But you are a child, and so I bore you with these details. Know that I am safe, and I miss you greatly. I will return as soon as my business allows, sweet daughter. I sleep at night with your picture close by, and I remember how fast the time passes, how quickly you grow into womanhood. Remember me fondly, dear girl.

  Please keep watch over Papa. I fear he has not long left. And remember that Aunt Charlotte is a fragile mind. I fear giving her the key will come to be a mistake. Please ensure she does not lose it. You must also help her with the everyday duties of the house as much as possible. I look forward to reuniting with you soon.

  Your loving father,

  J.J. Laurent

  For a moment, neither Cage nor Dani said anything. She brought the letter to her flushed face, eyes furrowed, mouth open with excitement.

  “Is it authentic?” Cage asked.

  Still holding the letter by just her fingertips, Dani laid it out on the counter. “I can say with certainty it’s an old letter. It’s no recent forgery.”

  “So it’s probably authentic. Unless someone forged John James’s handwriting and sent a letter to his daughter over a hundred years ago.”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Dani said. “I’ll have to take it with me to the historical foundation tomorrow, see if I can find a documented signature of his.” She clasped her hands together, pressing them to her lips. “This could be an incredible find! An authentic communication. A personal connection between John James and his daughter. It could be a real asset if Ironwood is accepted into the Register.”

  “But it’s not a find.” Cage hated to be the one to bring her back to reality. “Someone left this for you, Dani. Why?”

  She pointed to the last lines of the letter. “To tell me we’re on the right track. There was a master key to Ironwood.”

  “So where is it now?”

  He called Gina despite Dani’s protests. He didn’t need to consult a damned website or journal to tell him something was off about this letter business. Every ounce of cop instinct he had screamed that this stunk worse than an outhouse on a hot day.

  Gina arrived a few minutes before ten, moving with a lethargic step that matched the deepening circles beneath her eyes. “I surely hope the trip over here is worth it, Cage. It’s been a long day, and I was about to head home for a rest.”

  “Searching the abandoned buildings?” Dani asked.

  “We hit four this afternoon. Not a damned thing, thank God. But I heard you were a busy bee, Cage. Paid a visit to the historical foundation, did you?”

  He grinned. “Wanted to chat with Lee.”

  “Find out anything interesting?”

  “Not sure I should share. After all, I’m a suspect. And so’s he.”

  “We’re working on eliminating him. And you. Unless you continue to interfere, and then I’ll have you in the hot seat just for spite. So start talking.”

  He told her everything Lee had said, including his complaints about selling Ironwood and his strange reaction to the locks. Dani kept surprisingly silent. Cage figured she was stocking up on reasons to keep Gina from taking the letter.

  “You might be reaching there,” Gina said when he finished.

  Cage shrugged. “Still, it’s interesting that on the same day I visit the foundation, and Dani starts poking into the John James legend,” he motioned to the delicate paper now spread out on the dining room table, “that shows up.”

  “I don’t see why you called her,” Dani groused. Hands on either side of the letter, he knew she’d fight to keep it. “Leaving me an old letter isn’t a crime.”

  “Someone knows what you’re doing,” Cage said. “That you’re looking for John James.”

  “You just said the whole town knew I was staying here by now.” Dani paced, her speech charged with excitement. At least Cage was getting better at understanding her when she got like this. “So they’ve heard what I’m up to.”

  “You discovered the butler’s pantry today,” he said. “You figure there’s something not right about the lock–or that it at least means something. I start digging into that idea, you ask questions about John James. Then bam! This gift. Too many coincidences. Gina needs to know about this.”

  Dani stopped, positioning her small body as though she were a linebacker ready to block. “Fine. But unless the Adams County Sheriff has a historical document specialist on hand,” she looked at Gina, “I really don’t want you to take the letter.”

  Gina stayed silent, processing. Cage’s impatience won out. “Come on. Bodies in Ironwood, and now this out of nowhere, left anonymously? With the mention of a key? We can’t just ignore it.”

  “I agree,” Gina said. “Thing is, what’s the connection? But if we’re assuming the killer left it–which you seem to be doing–what’s his motive? And more importantly, how did he get it?”

  “Maybe the killer didn’t leave it,” Dani said. “Maybe someone heard about my search and wanted to help
without getting involved.”

  “Maybe he lifted it from the historical foundation,” Cage said.

  “I doubt it,” Dani said. “Something like this wouldn’t be available to the public.”

  “True,” Gina said. “But what’s the motive? Lee isn’t hurting for money. And from everything you’ve told me, he loves Ironwood too much to sully it with murder.”

  “Unless that’s a front,” Cage said. “And all due respect, Captain, but these murders are about Ironwood. Those guys were probably trespassing, and our murderer attacked them to protect his turf.”

  “The medical examiner hasn’t definitively established they were both killed at the same time, and I won’t believe that until she does,” Gina said.

  “It’s happened before.”

  “And why leave the letter?”

  “Could be he’s toying with us, leaving Dani this letter. And Ben Moore’s back in town.” Cage didn’t look at Dani. “He offered to help research the John James theory.”

  “Really?” Gina raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised he’s back after the outrage over the new development.”

  “Exactly what I thought. Timing is awfully interesting, don’t you think?”

  “It’s something to consider.” Gina turned her attention to Dani. “You think the bones might belong to John James?”

  Dani didn’t answer, instead glaring at Cage. “What does Ben being in town and helping me have to do with anything?”

  “Just making sure Gina has all the facts.” Ire burned in his stomach. All that indignation over stupid Ben Moore.

  What could she see in the man? And didn’t she understand how strange his reappearance was now?

  Ben hadn’t been around much in the last few months, well aware that his efforts at tearing down part of poverty-stricken Roselea and replacing it with Yankee-built condos had made him very unpopular. Still, the guy could visit his mother. So what if his timing reeked of burnt collard greens? Maybe jealousy was clouding Cage’s judgment.

  Gina stifled a yawn. “I’ve got to get a few hours of sleep tonight. As for Moore, he’s done nothing illegal by showing up. But a word of caution, Dani. He may seem sweet as molasses, but he’s not well liked around Roselea anymore. The stunt he pulled with the developers from Maryland pissed a lot of people off.”