“Then what are we waiting for, sir?”
Chapter 25
Sometime between the chip commercial and the fourth episode of Buffy, Brianna fell asleep, and she didn’t wake until a sliver of sunlight sliced across her face. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she looked around the living room, wondering why she was lying on the sofa and not in bed. Then the vision of her confrontation with the ghost came crashing in with the force of a battering ram.
Warmth radiating into her back and a muscular arm draped over her waist made her realize she wasn’t alone. Riley spooned against her. Saying a silent prayer that he was asleep and she could slip out of the room before he woke up, she took a quick peek over her shoulder.
He met her gaze with a crooked smile and a glitter in his eyes.
He finds this amusing. He’s so aggravating.
Brianna scooted off the sofa and glared down at him with a question hovering on her lips.
“Your head kept bobbing, and I thought you’d be more comfortable lying down.”
“There’s a perfectly good chair right over there,” she said, pointing across the room.
Riley cocked his head, watching her as if he couldn’t understand why she was on the defensive.
“You didn’t need to—”
“I was tired too,” he said. “That chair doesn’t look all that comfortable.”
She hoped to regain some dignity in this awkward situation but wasn’t certain if it could be achieved. She continued to stare, angry with the way he’d taken advantage of the situation but angrier with herself for allowing it to happen in the first place. Why did lying in his arms feel so right? She had a hard time wrapping her head around that. Would Ben understand why’d she’d invited Riley to stay the night? If the situation was reversed, would she?
She wanted to chastise Riley for his unchivalrous behavior, but his tousled hair and innocent-looking eyes stopped her. He’d gone out of his way to help her last night. Berating him would only come off as being ungrateful, especially since he’d stayed all night to protect her. So he fell asleep. There’s no harm in that, but she had a hard time convincing herself that he hadn’t take advantage of the situation.
He was saved from a tongue lashing by the phone ringing. She rushed into the bedroom, and grabbed her cell phone from her purse. Please don’t let it be Ben. How could she have a conversation with her fiancé with her ex-boyfriend in the next room?
It was Lieutenant Holcomb. “Good morning, lieutenant. You do remember I’m in West Virginia?”
“Yes, but I promised I’d keep you updated on the investigation.”
“You’ve found something new?”
He took a quick breath and rattled on. “We have our first solid lead.”
When he paused, she knew he waited to hear her reaction. She remained calm, but her heart quickened. “Does that mean you’ll be making an arrest soon?”
“Not exactly, but we’re—”
“Every time we talk you say you’re about to crack the case, but none of your leads have produced any results. What makes you think this one will be any different? It’s been a month, and you haven’t found one shred of evidence. Everything you’ve come up with so far has been pure speculation. Call me when you have something solid to report, and I might be interested.”
She didn’t like talking to him. He always gave her the impression he knew she’d committed the crime, and all he had to do was find enough evidence to pin it on her. She was about to hang up when he spoke again.
The censure in his voice was almost tangible. “I thought you’d want to know we’re getting close to wrapping up your parents’ case. This new lead was what we’ve been waiting for.”
“As always, you can’t give me any details.”
“Not with it being an open investigation.”
“Well, you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not overjoyed with your news. I’ll celebrate when you have the person responsible behind bars.”
The incessant beeping of an incoming call gave her an excuse to hang up. “I don’t mean to be rude, lieutenant, but I have a call waiting.” She didn’t wait for his reply before switching over to the next caller.
The woman on the other end introduced herself as Cynthia Cleary-Cole. She’d received a message on her answering machine looking for relatives of a James Cleary. Her great-great-uncle, Henry, was James’s brother. She asked if Brianna was related to the Clearys because she didn’t recognize the name Rossi in the family tree, and she’d done extensive research.
Brianna went into a lengthy explanation, as Cynthia seemed interested in hearing about the manor and the letters she’d found. “Do you know anything about James and Sarah’s engagement?”
“Not that I recall. James was only eighteen when he went to war. Do you know much about the brothers?”
Brianna admitted she hadn’t found much on the internet but would love to hear what Cynthia knew.
“Henry was the eldest by eight years,” she said. “Their mother died when James was born, and their father died in a mining accident five years later. Henry was left to take care of his little brother. He was claustrophobic, and couldn’t stand working underground, so he took a job making deliveries for the general store, but he couldn’t wait to get out of Fairmont. When James was sixteen and went to work in the mines, Henry moved to Charleston where he worked for a local grocery store. The owner didn’t have any children of his own. He took Henry under his wing, treating him like a son. He even left the store to Henry when he died. Henry spent the next two years making the store a success, and he became a prominent figure in the community. In 1918, he ran for city councilman and won.”
“Henry wasn’t in the war?”
“He wanted to join, especially since his brother had already enlisted, but he couldn’t pass the physical. When James died, Henry changed. He became obsessed with work, and opened up a chain of stores. He built a mansion in Charleston for his wife and four children. I live in the house now. After his children were grown, he planned to run for mayor, but he was diagnosed with cancer and died the following year. There’s a trunk in the basement that belonged to James. The army sent it to Henry after James died. I used to play down there, but I was forbidden to open that trunk. I always wondered why.”
“Cynthia, do you think there’s anything in the trunk that could tie Sarah and James together?”
“I wish I could tell you, but I have severe arthritis and I can’t do stairs anymore. I haven’t been down there in years, but you’re welcome to come and look for yourself if you want.”
“I’d love to, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. You know, I always found it strange that no one ever talked about James. I heard it was because Henry felt guilty for not being there to protect his little brother. James’s death haunted Henry for the rest of his life, especially since they were at odds with each other when James was killed.”
“Do you know why?”
“No. I heard it was some sort of scandal, but I don’t know what it was.”
Anxious to find the truth behind James and Sarah’s love affair, Brianna asked if it would be convenient for her to come by that afternoon.
Cynthia said she’d be home all day and would welcome the company.
Brianna pulled a pen and a scrap of paper from the nightstand and wrote the address down. “If I leave in the next thirty minutes, I can be there a little after noon.”
Cynthia said she’d be watching at the window for her to arrive.
Brianna turned around to see Riley leaning against the bedroom door with a grin on his face.
“I hear we’re taking a road trip to Charleston. That sounds interesting.”
“Not we, me. You’re not invited.”
“Oh, come on, Anya. It’ll be an adventure, and adventures aren’t any fun unless they’re shared. Have you looked outside? It’s a beautiful day. We can take my convertible. I’ll put the top down. Besides, I know you didn’t get much sleep last night. You can t
ake a nap while I drive.” With a pout and his hands pressed together as if in prayer, he added, “Pretty please?”
From the beginning of their relationship, she’d always found it difficult to say no to him. Today was no exception. “I’m warning you,” she said, shaking her finger at him. “This doesn’t change anything between us. What happened last night was a mistake, and it won’t happen again. Do you understand?”
He only nodded and smiled.
Am I crazy or stupid to let him talk me into this? Though it would be nice to have someone else drive. I have a lot to think about. She headed to the bathroom to change.
Chapter 26
With her fists clenched tight until the knuckles turned white, she attempted to squelch the white-hot fear rising in her gut. Holcomb was close to finding out the truth. Damn him! She’d underestimated his bullheadedness. Something would have to be done, an alternative plan put into place.
I need to leave the country. That’s the only solution. Maybe I’ll go somewhere tropical. I wonder how much that snake will charge me to forge a passport. He charged me a fortune for the fake driver’s license.
Her hands shook as she took one last puff of the cigarette, released a plume of smoke, and tossed the butt into the wet grass to sizzle and die.
Don’t get riled up. You can fix this. It’ll all work out if you don’t freak out.
She shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun that promised another beautiful, warm, day. The wheels in her head churned as adrenaline coursed through her bloodstream, and then she smiled, amazed at how quickly her mind operated in the midst of panic.
That’s perfect, but I’ll have to work fast before Holcomb puts it all together.
***
Despite the distressing call from Holcomb, the anticipation of finding an answer to James and Sarah’s relationship had put Brianna in a great mood that even being in Riley’s company couldn’t dampen.
Thirty minutes later, they had freshened up and were heading out.
Riley held the passenger door open for her before climbing into the driver’s seat. The engine purred to life.
Brianna glanced over at Riley, and visions of waking up in his arms caused a blush to creep up her neck and spread to her cheeks. She fiddled with the seat adjustment, and Riley leaned over to help. She avoided looking at him, knowing he’d be wearing a smug grin.
The first hour of the two-hour drive, Brianna told Riley what she’d discovered so far about Sarah and James’s relationship. She admitted to believing Sarah was the spirit he’d encountered the previous night. For once, he listened without interrupting.
She fell silent, peeking at him from under her lashes. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he flashed a knowing smile as he caught her watching him.
She averted her gaze and changed the radio station, but her hands trembled despite all her efforts to stay composed.
Riley continued to watch her.
“What?”
He shrugged.
“I know you want to ask me something, so what is it?”
“How long have you known Ben?”
“Six months.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm what?” It reminded her of Lieutenant Holcomb.
“Are you sure you know him well enough to get engaged?”
Her face flushed again, but it wasn’t due to embarrassment. “It’s none of your business.”
“You’re right. It’s not. But I’m concerned. You shouldn’t make a lifetime commitment to someone you barely know.”
“I know everything I need to know about him.” Brianna turned away to avoid further discussion of Ben, their past, the kiss last night, or sleeping together.
Riley pushed a button on the console, and the windows rolled down, the top folded up, and the trunk opened to store the hood.
The wind whipped tendrils of hair around her face, and she pulled her hair into a ponytail. The passing scenery kept her attention for the rest of the trip. She contemplated seeking a therapist once she returned to Carmel. Her feelings for Riley needed resolving. It was obvious, she hadn’t gotten over him, though this trip could bring closure; the day was still young, and Riley had a way of irritating her beyond all reasoning.
Chapter 27
They arrived at their destination in record time. Riley parked outside a French Eclectic one-and-a-half story building in the Edgewood historic district.
Always fascinated with historical architecture, Brianna admired the massive hip roof with its ridge paralleling the front of the house where five round dormers protruded from the roof. The builder had used brick and stucco to cover the structure’s exterior. A tower enclosed the round, arched entryway, enhancing the casement-style windows and decorative shutters. Brianna noted decorative quoins at the corners of the building and around the entry door. Cynthia wasn’t kidding when she said Henry had been a successful businessman. This home was impressive, and it would have been expensive to build.
A woman in her early eighties waved to them from the open doorway. She leaned on a walking cane, but her stature embodied grace and refinement.
“I’ve been watching out the window for you to arrive,” she said as they approached the entrance. “It takes me a while to get moving.” She wagged her cane at them. “You got here earlier than I expected. Please come in.”
Brianna laughed. “He speeds.”
“Riley Rutland. It’s nice to meet you,” he said, taking the woman’s elbow as he escorted her inside.
“Are you interested in the Clearys as well?” Cynthia asked him.
“I’m only the chauffeur,” he said.
Cynthia chuckled.
“Your home is beautiful,” Brianna remarked. “I’ve had a passion for architecture since I was in elementary school. French Revival, right?”
With a nod, Cynthia replied, “Henry was in love with the style. He said it captured both the rustic and romantic elements of French architecture.”
“It’s always been one of my favorites.”
“When my aunt decided to sell it fifteen years ago, I bought it because I’ve loved this house since I was a child. I came here every Christmas with my family. I couldn’t bear having a stranger living here.”
“I hope we aren’t inconveniencing you,” Brianna said.
“No, I appreciate the company. My husband’s been dead for years, and my son is a busy man. He comes as often as he can but . . .”
Brianna’s heart went out to this woman. The crinkles that lined her eyes and mouth told of years of laughter and smiles, and the creases in her forehead spoke of worries past and present.
Impatient to begin the search, Brianna changed the subject. “We’ll try not to disturb you. You said James’s trunk is in the basement?”
“Follow me.” With her shuffling gait, Cynthia led them to a door under the stairs. She stumbled, and Brianna grabbed her elbow to keep her from falling. The grimace on Cynthia’s face made it evident that even the simple task of walking was painful. Brianna admired this woman even more now for the dignity she presented in spite of the difficulties she faced every day.
Cynthia flipped a switch on the wall and opened the door.
Brianna cringed. Even with the light illuminating the damp, stuffy basement, it was still a confined space. Not only did she share a love of architecture with Henry; she shared his claustrophobia as well.
Cynthia pointed to the farthest corner. “If I remember right, James’s trunk is over there, though I’m not sure if you’ll find anything worthwhile it in. If you don’t mind being down here alone, I have phone calls to make. When you’re finished, I’ll be waiting in the living room.”
“We’ll be fine,” Brianna said, taking Riley’s arm for support as they climbed down the narrow stairs. She was relieved that the light cascading from the tiny oblong windows lining the west wall negated the feeling of being hemmed in.
They were surprised to find the trunk wasn’t locked. Riley clicked the two hinges upward, and the lid creaked op
en. The first items they encountered were army-issued tunics and breeches, a water bottle, a drill booklet, a trench map, German souvenirs, and a canvas pack.
Inside the pack, Brianna discovered a woolen cap, a pair of socks, and a folded overcoat. Laying those aside, she searched the bottom of the trunk to retrieve a haversack with canned military rations, toothbrush, soap, towel, tin plate, spoon, fork, a pay book, and a mending kit.
No great revelations here.
As she replaced the items in the haversack, she noticed a lump in one of the seams, stitched with loose thread. She pulled the thread, and it unraveled to reveal a hidden pocket. A roll of dollar bills fell out. Here was the money James had saved for Sarah. She laid the money on the basement floor.
Brianna checked the trunk again. There were only two items left—a respirator and a gas mask. She laid them beside the money. With an exasperated sigh, Brianna surveyed all the items she’d taken from James’s trunk. “There isn’t much in here, and there’s not one reference to Sarah.”
“This is all standard issue for a soldier going to war. What were you expecting to find anyway?”
“A reason for why Sarah would want to commit suicide.”
Riley patted her shoulder. “Sorry you didn’t find what you were looking for. Are you ready to go?”
Brianna shrugged. When she picked up the overcoat to return it to the trunk, she felt a bulge in one of the pockets. Excitement replaced her frustration when she found a packet of letters, dirty and worn, as if they’d been read over and over again. She rifled through the stack. They all came from Sarah.
In another pocket she found a weathered black-and-white photograph of a young woman with long wavy hair and soulful eyes. She didn’t look older than sixteen. Brianna flipped the picture over to see Sarah’s name written on the back.
“Riley, this is Sarah. Isn’t she beautiful? No wonder James fell in love with her. She looks so innocent. You’d never know she was a prostitute.”
Riley bent down to get a better look. He stumbled backward, his face pale.
Still, Forever, Promise Page 18