by Grae Lily
"But, are you?" Johanna didn't know if she was more fearful or angry that a town could turn on someone without any evidence that they'd done anything wrong. She thought of how often she'd accused someone in her life of having done something without any concrete evidence to prove it. At the time, it felt like the right thing to do, but now, watching what this behavior was doing to Milan, she wished she could have taken every unkind thought and every ounce of mistrust she ever felt away.
"No." Sarah answered after taking a moment to decide. "I'm disappointed. I'm angry. I want this to end. Milan should be allowed to move on with his life. All of this chaos and nonsense here, has robbed him of the time he needed to grieve properly and that's not fair. I'll tell you - he is not the same because of all of this."
Johanna lifted a box to take it outside. "But, I don't see how getting rid of his family's things is going to help any of this. I mean, why get rid of the house? It's rightfully his. I could see not wanting to live in it, but why sell it? Why throw away all these memories?"
Sarah loved the manor. Some of her fondest memories took place in the manor. She too felt like walking away from it wasn't the right thing to do, but not knowing exactly what Milan was going through, she felt she couldn't speak for him or make any decisions for him. This was his battle to fight. Her job was to support him, no matter what, even if that meant having to watch him throw away something his family fought so hard to obtain.
"I mean, look at it. This place is gorgeous. All it needs is some minor repairs and it could be just as beautiful as it was before, like in the pictures that I saw. Couldn't he just get rid of the tunnel somehow. Cement it shut and let you live in the house or something? Wouldn't you want to live here again?" Johanna had never lived in a home that her family owned. She'd waited her whole life to have something to call her own. The idea of selling the one thing that still connected him to the life he lived, felt like such a loss to Johanna. She couldn't fathom simply walking away from it and pretending that it didn't matter anymore.
"It isn't our decision. We work for him. We don't get a say in the matter and, yes, I loved this home, but it wasn't mine. Remember, I was an employee. A young woman was found dead, just a few feet from the back door. What do you expect him to do?" Sarah tried to sound firm despite her own feelings of loss regarding the people and the home she'd come to love over the years.
Johanna fought the urge to continue trying to persuade Sarah. She understood that it must have been painful for her too.
As soon as she stepped out the front door, hoisting the first of many boxes that she would have to remove from the home, reporters outside sprung into action, jumping out of their vehicles to fire off questions at her. Johanna casually glanced up at the bedroom window, where Milan was sleeping, hoping that they wouldn't wake him.
"Miss, is it true that you were hired to help clear out the property? Miss, what is your relationship with Mr. Merced?"
Johanna gulped, trying to hold her tongue and not engage with the reporters, but the questions continued. After loading the box into the car, she rushed back into the house, her nerves on edge.
"What is wrong with these people? Why is it so unusual that a man wants to sell his house?" Johanna asked, believing that Sarah was in earshot.
Milan spoke. "To them, I'm a murderer. Those questions were mild compared to what they could ask. I've been down this road before. Believe me, it is going to get worse."
Johanna gasped, surprised to find him awake and downstairs. Despite all of what he was going through, he remained strikingly handsome. His beautiful brown eyes showed signs of sleep deprivation and worry, but they also showed a strength that caught Johanna off guard. His beautifully chiseled face donned a scowl that she hoped would one day disappear. Given what she'd witnessed the night before, behind the tough facade was a man who loved and loved hard. He had a softer side that made her heart ache for him. The brooding side was the one he allowed people to see, but she couldn't help to be intoxicated by that either.
Milan was a complicated man with a gentle heart and far too unpredictable for Johanna to feel comfortable with, but she was drawn to him and she had the feeling that he was drawn to her as well. She knew that this wasn't the time or the place for any feelings to develop, but she couldn't deny that she was at least intrigued and beguiled by him. He, very much like the manor, was bewitching.
Johanna didn't see Sarah in the room. "I should probably go find Sarah."
Milan stopped her, saying, "No, not yet. There are some things I'd like you to do."
"Okay." Butterflies began fluttering wildly in Johanna's stomach. "If it's about those boxes, I just started loading some into my car. I hope that's okay."
"It's not that. I'd like you to go into the attic and start removing some of those items first. There's no point in holding on to them anymore either. Everything up there should be in boxes already." Milan said.
"Sure. No problem." Johanna started up the stairs, sensing that Milan was watching her. She turned back to look and he immediately turned his head. "Was there something else," she asked.
"No. Just make sure everything is removed today." Milan turned and walked away.
Yes, sir, Johanna thought.
She hadn't been in the attic before and wasn't a fan of small, dank places, but she was curious as to what was up there and why it was so important that the items be given priority over those downstairs.
Johanna shivered as she searched for a light. The musty smell assaulted her senses. Grasping in the darkness, she couldn't find a light switch. In one far corner, she could see a hint of sunlight coming from outside. Slowly, she made her way across the attic, running into items with every step and knocking some to the floor. If she hadn't have been asked to come into the attic, she never would have.
"Okay. Where's the light?" She whispered, running into what felt like a desk. "Why didn't I bring a flashlight with me?"
With her hands extended out in front of her, she reached for the window, only to be met with a piece of furniture blocking it. As she struggled to figure out what the item was something behind her went crashing to the floor.
Down below, Sarah called up, "Johanna, are you okay?"
Johanna couldn't answer through her panting. Her heart thumped rapidly inside her chest. Goose bumps covered her skin from head to toe.
"Johanna?" This time, Sarah was closer. "Where are you?"
Taking a deep breath, Johanna answered, "On the floor by the window. Something fell down. I can't find a light."
Sarah flipped the lights on. "The switch is right here." She looked at Johanna, curled up in a ball, cowering against an armoire. "Are you okay?"
Johanna stood up, dusting off her jeans and blouse. "He could have told me where the light switch was. I think my legs are going to be covered in bruises. I ran into everything, trying to make it to the window back here."
On the floor were rows of boxes scattered from one end of the attic to the other. In the middle of the room was a crib, lying dismantled. Both Johanna and Sarah paused at the sight of it.
"Was it true? Was his wife pregnant when she died?" Johanna nodded to the crib.
"I can't say for sure." She sighed, looking down at the crib. "Let's get these boxes out of the way and load them into the cars."
For the next hour, Sarah organized the boxes, while Johanna took them one by one down the stairs and placed them on the porch. She wondered what was inside each of them. Judging from the items that were left in one piece, she could only assume that those boxes contained items belonging to Paulina.
Milan worked outside, in full view of the reporters and the small crowd of onlookers that had gathered. Questions were still being thrown at him, but he managed to ignore them and continued working to clean up the yard. Just beyond the back gates, police investigators continued to work in and around the tunnel and in the adjoining gardens. Sheriff Acker returned after Johanna had already made two trips to the local thrift store to donate the items.
; Johanna watched as Ned approached Milan in the yard. She couldn't hear what they were discussing, but the cold, hard stare that Milan offered the Sheriff told her that he wasn't at all pleased by what he had to say.
Sarah was watching the exchange from the kitchen window as Johanna walked in and settled in a chair. "What happened now?" Sarah asked, unaware that Johanna had come in.
"I don't know. I couldn't hear anything, but it didn't look like it was good news." Johanna answered, startling Sarah.
"How many more loads do you plan on taking today?" Sarah asked, sitting down opposite Johanna.
She shrugged before wiping her brow. Her body ached from head to toe. It had been a long time since she'd done any real physical work and her muscles let her know that they weren't pleased.
"There's only a few more boxes in the attack. I'll take those and, then, call it a day. Milan's been out there all day." Johanna mused.
Sarah nodded, opening her mouth to speak, then, stopping.
"What? What's wrong?" Johanna asked, leaning forward in her seat.
"Okay. Now, this is just between me and you, but you know that question you asked me earlier about Mrs. Merced?" Johanna nodded. "Well, I didn't exactly tell you the truth." Johanna's eyebrows quirked up. "She and Milan had been trying to have a baby for quite some time, but it didn't happen."
"Oh, okay." Johanna didn't understand why Sarah was telling her this. "And?"
"The stuff that's in the attic belonged to Paulina. Most of it was stuff she'd purchased for a baby."
Johanna interrupted her. "What baby? You just said that they couldn't have a baby."
Sarah swallowed hard, looking back at Johanna with a pained expression in her eyes. Johanna waited for her to respond. The kitchen door flew open and Milan walked in, slamming it shut behind him.
"They are leaving." He announced before storming off upstairs.
Sarah immediately followed him, telling Johanna to finish up with the rest of the boxes from the attic.
Johanna slowly trudged up the stairs, her muscles protesting her every move. She walked past Milan's room and could hear their muffled voices talking, but couldn't make out what they were discussing. Outside, the Sheriff's deputies and Sheriff Acker were packing up their gear and removing the yellow tape and barriers that they'd put up in front of the tunnel.
Curious to know what was going on, Johanna closed her bedroom door and watched out the window. By all accounts, the investigation seemed to have come to an abrupt stop. Although she was relieved, she still felt like something was amiss. Sarah's latest news didn't help ease her suspicions, though, either.
As the sulking crowd began to disperse, Johanna studied their faces, hoping to commit some of their faces to memory. It was difficult to be a new person in a small town, she knew, but she hoped that by approaching them individually, she may be able to find the answers to some of her questions. Milan and Sarah were only giving information in tiny increments and, if they expected her to do her job well, she would need far more information before continuing.
She heard the sound of Sarah walking in the hallway outside of her bedroom. Milan's heavier footsteps followed. Neither said a word as they both descended the stairs. Soon, Johanna could see Milan as he went back into the yard to continue the yard work and underneath her, in the kitchen, she heard Sarah moving around as she cleaned.
What are they up to, Johanna wondered.
*
The clerk stared at Johanna with a blank expression on his face. He hadn't lifted a finger to help her with any of her cargo on the four previous trips she'd made to donate items and she didn't have any hope that he would be willing to sacrifice a moment of his time to help her now either.
"Don't worry. I'll get it." Johanna muttered as she fought to keep the door open without losing her grip on the box in her arms.
"You sure have a lot of stuff to get rid of." He mused.
Looking at his name tag, Johanna threw the box on top of the counter in front of him. He followed her gaze to his name tag and looked back at her.
She said, "Well, Timmy, that name tag there says customer service. I don't suppose you know what that means, do you?" The heat didn't do anything to help her mood. She felt like she'd gone swimming in a mud puddle and hadn't had anything to eat or drink for days. Her clothes were covered in dirt and dust. Her long, wavy hair, sat like a bird's nest on top of her sweaty head. She'd had enough and wanted everyone to know it.
"Did you need help?" He asked, missing the whole point of what she was trying to say to him.
"I've been here how many times today, my friend?" Johanna's tone scared the clerk.
His voice low, he answered, "A lot."
"Yeah, a lot, Timmy." Sighing, she continued, "Anyway, this should be my last trip for today. What time do you open tomorrow?"
"We don't." He answered.
"What? What do you mean?" Johanna could feel her frustration building. The last thing she needed was some smart mouthed kid toying with her.
He pointed to a small handwritten sign on the counter top. "We are only open two days a week and today's the second day this week, so we're not."
Through clenched teeth, Johanna asked, "Do you have a donation drop off bin?"
"Nope."
"So, I have to wait until next week to donate items? Really? Is there any other thrift stores around here?" She turned to look out the window. She didn't remember seeing any other second hand stores on the block.
"Nope." He answered again.
Turning in frustration, Johanna said, "All right, well, I'll figure something out. Thanks for all your help, Mr. Timmy whatever your name is."
As the door was closing behind her, he shouted back, "Johnson. Mr. Timmy Johnson."
She turned, grabbing the door, and asked him, "You're a Johnson? As in Tuck Johnson's family?"
He nodded. "Yeah, why?"
"How are you related?" She stepped back inside the store and walked back to the counter.
He took a step back and waited to hear what else she had to say.
"Are you his son?"
He averted his eyes.
Firmer, she asked, "Are you Tuck Johnson's son?"
"Why? What do you care?" The frightened kid suddenly became defensive and bolder.
"I care a lot, if you are. Do you know who I am?" She asked, challenging him to say the right thing.
"The new wife, I guess." He answered, shrugging.
They stood in awkward silence for a few moments as Johanna tried to decide how she was going to play this. If she told him too much, he'd surely use it against Milan, but if she made something up, that could backfire even worse. And, she was concerned that she'd unknowingly handed him all of Paulina's prized possessions. That would upset Milan to no end.
Shuffling from side to side, Timmy finally asked, "Are you going to go now?"
Johanna hoped she wouldn't regret what she was about to do, but felt, given the circumstances, that this was the only decision she could make. Leaving Paulina's things with the person who vandalized her home and her burial site didn't feel like the best thing to do.
"I'm going to need your help, Timmy."
Chapter Eleven
“No, I'm sorry, Mr. Merced asked me to call you and cancel the appointment.” Johanna said the first thing that came to mind. She had no idea that Milan had asked a realtor to stop by the manor.
The realtor's face reddened. This listing was the most coveted listing in all of Brimmer County. Johanna imagined that he'd worked very hard to get Milan to trust him enough to deal with the sale.
"Is Mr. Merced here?" He turned his head to check the driveway.
Johanna shook her head. "I'm afraid not. He had to go to Nashville to take care of some business matters and I really couldn't tell you when he'll back back."
"Who are you, dear?" The realtor's tone was condescending. Johanna didn't appreciate being spoken to in that manner. She made a point to memorize his face, so that if she ever saw him again, she could l
et him know exactly how she felt about it. He was a short, round man with a pronounced receding hairline. To her, he looked more like a con man than a realtor, but she figured that there probably wasn't too much competition in River's Bend, so he had the freedom to dress however he liked.
She cleared her throat before answering. "I'm so sorry that you were inconvenienced, but I do wish you well. Bye, now." Johanna moved to close the door, but he stopped it with his hand.
"Wait. I'd really like to speak to Mr. Merced. I'll try him on his cell phone, but if I don't reach him, will you let him know that I stopped by for our scheduled appointment?"