Letters in the Attic

by DeAnna Julie Dodson

  Annie ran her errands and even stopped in to chat with Peggy at the diner, catching her up on this most recent development. When she returned to the library, though, Grace didn’t have any results for her. But by the next afternoon, she called to ask Annie to come see her.

  “Success.” She gave Annie a couple of pieces of paper. “A few years ago, I worked with a woman who’s at the library in Charleston now. She was nice enough to e-mail me a copy of the article you wanted, as well as an earlier one on the drowning.”

  Annie glanced at the pages. “I really appreciate it. What do I owe you for them?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. She sent them to me as a favor, and I’m just passing them on. Sorry it had to be bad news, though.”

  “At least I know for sure.” Annie sighed. “I was really looking forward to getting back in touch with Susan. I guess that’ll teach me not to take any of my friends for granted.”

  “You never know how long you have with anyone. I guess we both know that too well.” There was a touch of wistfulness in Grace’s expression, and Annie remembered that she, too, was a widow. “But at least you tried to find her. That was thoughtful of you.”

  Annie thanked her one last time; then she went over to one of the overstuffed chairs in the reading area and sat down. The first article was dated August 22, 1989.

  CHARLESTON RESCUE SEEKING WOMAN MISSING OFF FOLLY BEACH

  FOLLY BEACH – Last night, a woman disappeared from the yacht she and her fiancé were sailing down the coast to Florida. It is believed that the 22-year-old may have fallen overboard during the brief storm that blew into the Charleston area last night around midnight. Her fiancé told police that he was sleeping below deck and did not realize she was missing until early this morning. Authorities have not released the couple’s names, but report that they had sailed from the Portland, Maine, area. The victim’s fiancé was not immediately available for comment.

  The poor man, whoever he was. What a terrible blow it must have been to lose Susan just as they were starting their life together.

  Annie looked at the other article. It was the one she had originally requested from August 27 of that year.

  SEARCH HALTED FOR MAINE WOMAN BELIEVED DROWNED

  FOLLY BEACH – After the Coast Guard and Charleston Rescue abandoned search operations today, police released the name of the woman believed drowned off Folly Beach on August 21. She has been identified as Susan Morris, 22, of Stony Point, Maine. According to her fiancé, Archer Prescott, owner of sporting-goods manufacturing concern JFP Athletics Inc., the couple had been sailing down the coast to his estate in Vero Beach, Fla., for their wedding.

  “I knew there was a little storm coming up, but it wasn’t due for a while. The sea was quiet, so I went to my cabin for a nap,” Prescott said. “It was pretty late. Susan told me she would keep watch and let me know if she needed me for anything. She had done it several times before, so I didn’t think anything would go wrong. I guess I was more tired than I thought, because I slept right through the night. I’d never done that before. When I woke up and didn’t find her on deck or anywhere below, I radioed the Coast Guard, but she was gone. Just gone.”

  A general alert along the North and South Carolina coasts, and to ships in the area has brought no results. Coast Guard Captain Michael Raintree, in command of the search operation, could offer no hope that Morris might still be alive. “Anyone alone out on the ocean has very little chance of being found, and that chance becomes smaller and smaller with every hour that passes. She was reported to be a strong swimmer, but even if that’s the case, no one could last this long in open water. We would have been notified by now if another vessel had picked her up, or if she had reached shore. It’s a tragedy, of course, to lose a young woman like that. We hate to have to give up, but experience tells us that there’s nothing more we can do.”

  Prescott, however, was unwilling to accept the decision made by Charleston Rescue, the Coast Guard and others involved in the search. “I’m not giving up,” he said. “If Susan’s out there, if she’s alive, I’m going to find her. And if, God forbid, she’s dead, I want to know that too. I can’t just abandon her. I’ll never forgive myself for leaving her on deck like that, and I owe it to her to keep looking. She’s everything to me.”

  The couple’s wedding was scheduled for today.

  Annie closed her eyes for a minute. That was it, then. Susan was gone, and no doubt this Archer Prescott had picked himself up and moved on with his life. He was probably married to someone else and had kids—maybe even grandkids; 1989 was a long time ago.

  She thought for a minute that she would go back to the Reference Room to see what she could find out about this JFP Athletics he owned, but the whole idea of following up on the lead didn’t appeal to her anymore. It was done. It was over. Time to go home, feed the cat, catch up with LeeAnn and the twins, and work on her new sweater.

  She gathered up her things, and with another quick thank you to Grace at the Circulation Desk, she went out to her car. Before she could get in, Peggy waved to her from the window of The Cup & Saucer. Then she held up her index finger, a gesture Annie took to mean Peggy wanted her to stay where she was.

  Annie put the papers she was carrying and her purse on the front seat and waited until Peggy scurried out of the café.

  “I can’t stand the suspense. Did you find out Prince Charming’s name?”

  “The article says his name was Archer Prescott. Did you ever hear of him?”

  Peggy thought for a minute. “I don’t think so. Was he from somewhere around here? Couldn’t have been Stony Point. People would have remembered.”

  “I don’t know. All I know is that when he knew Susan, he was the owner of JFP Athletics. Could be shoes, like Mary Beth said. I didn’t really check them out.”

  “Oh yeah. I remember them. Wally used to have some of their work boots. He loved those old things. He always said they were the best he’d ever had and wouldn’t throw them away for anything. They finally wore out on him, so he bought some more about five or six years ago. But those were awful. Too expensive, and they fell apart on him way too quickly. He said JFP was never the same after they moved the company out to the West Coast.”

  “That’s a shame. Maybe this Prescott guy sold the business after Susan died. You never know.”

  “Yeah, I suppose not. Well, I’d better get back to work. We get a little rush around four o’clock or so. Some of the older folks like to get in and out before the evening crowd.”

  “Don’t work too hard, Peg.” Annie got into the car. “And thanks for asking around for me.”

  “Sure thing. Are you going to try to call the guy up? Maybe he can tell you more.”

  Annie shook her head. “I don’t think there’s much else to know. I wish I hadn’t lost touch with Susan over the years. Maybe she wouldn’t have been on that boat, and things wouldn’t have ended up like this. Who knows?”

  With a little wave, Annie shut her car door and drove down Main Street. Maybe Susan would have been somewhere else if she and Annie had stayed friends. And maybe Annie’s own life would have been different too. No Wayne. No LeeAnn. No twins.

  Annie chuckled to herself as she turned onto Maple Street. She could almost hear Gram telling her not to borrow trouble. Who are you, missy, to think you’re in control of how people’s lives play out? Let God run the world. He’s had a lot of practice.

  Annie slowed as she turned onto Ocean Drive and was treated to a wide view of the sea, of the deep sapphire water capped with foam that leaped and danced against the rocks to the music of the surf.

  Too much gloom for one afternoon, she decided as she breathed in the fresh salt air, especially one as glorious as this. A gull took wing, soaring and disappearing into the sun, and Annie smiled. It was time to let Susan go.

  8

  But Annie couldn’t let Susan go. Yes, she was gone, but Annie knew the name of the man she had planned to marry. Surely this Archer Prescott would be ab
le to tell her something about Susan’s last days, and whether they were happy. Maybe then she could move on.

  Late that evening, once she had made up her mind, she looked up the contact information for JFP Athletics Inc. in San Diego. Listed as president and CEO was one Archer L. Prescott. Annie jotted down the company’s telephone number and address. She’d just call the man. What could it hurt?

  “You’re as determined as your grandmother,” her grandpa had often said, and Annie smiled to herself. Maybe she did have a lot of Gram’s determination. Pigheadedness, Grandpa would have called it, and there would have been a twinkle in his eyes. But Gram never let anything stand in her way. Neither would Annie.

  California was three hours behind them in Maine, so Annie had to wait until after noon of the next day before she could call the number for JFP Athletics. Even then, she was afraid she might be calling too early.

  “Good morning, JFP. How may I direct your call?”

  The voice on the other end of the line sounded very young. Annie couldn’t help picturing her. Did they even call them “valley girls” anymore?

  Annie put a smile into her voice. “Good morning. I would like to speak to someone in Archer Prescott’s office.”

  “One moment, please.”

  Annie sighed, hearing the “easy listening” music that was supposed to entertain her while she held. Fortunately, the wait wasn’t long.

  “Mr. Prescott’s office.”

  This voice was cool and professional, definitely older than the first. Absolutely.

  There was nothing to do but plunge ahead.

  “Good morning. My name is Annie Dawson. I’d like to speak to Mr. Prescott, if that’s possible.”

  “May I ask to what this is in reference?”

  “It’s, um, it’s a personal matter. May I speak to him?”

  “I’m sorry, Ms.—?”

  “Dawson. Annie Dawson.”

  “Ms. Dawson. I’m sorry, but I’m sure you appreciate how busy a man like Mr. Prescott is. Unless you can give me a little more information on the purpose of your call, I’ll have to ask you to speak to someone in our Public Relations Department. They can deal with any requests for donations to charitable or political causes.”

  Annie shook her head even though the gesture couldn’t be seen by the woman on the other end of the line. “I’m not trying to get a donation for anything. I’m trying to get some information about a woman Mr. Prescott was once engaged to—Susan Morris.”

  “I see.” The woman’s voice was coolly polite. “Has she asked you to contact him?”

  “I’m afraid she passed away back in 1989, but I would like to talk to him about her.”

  “Mr. Prescott is in conference at the moment. May I ask him to return your call?”

  “All right.”

  Annie managed to keep the disappointment out of her voice. After all, the owner of a big company didn’t just sit around his office all day waiting to take calls from total strangers. She gave the woman her telephone number and repeated her name for good measure.

  “If you’ll just let him know I’m calling about Susan Morris, I would very much appreciate it.”

  “I will make sure he gets the message. Have a good day.”

  There was an abrupt click, and the call was over.

  “I guess that’s that.”

  Boots had been snoozing on the couch beside her, and now she yawned and stretched, nuzzling Annie’s hand. Annie scratched behind the cat’s ears and under her chin.

  “What do you think, Miss Boots? Do you think he’ll call me back?”

  The cat only purred and blinked her eyes.

  “We’d better have something for lunch, and then I have got to make some decisions about that upstairs bathroom.”

  By nine o’clock, when it was six on the West Coast, Annie gave up hope of having a call that day from Archer Prescott of JFP Athletics Inc. By the same time the next evening, she gave up hope of ever hearing from him at all.

  ****

  The next day, Annie decided to stop by the mayor’s office. Ian knew everybody in town. Maybe he knew something about Archer Prescott too.

  “I wanted to ask your opinion about something,” she said, once he had invited her to sit down.

  “I heard you found out your friend had passed away.”

  “How did you—?” Annie shook her head. “Peggy again, right?”

  Ian shrugged. “She likes to chat with the customers, you know.”

  “That won’t make my mystery correspondent very happy.”

  “Chief Edwards told me they didn’t find any evidence to track the guy down yet.”

  “Not yet. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Annie let him read the two articles about the drowning.

  “At least I know the man she was engaged to was Archer Prescott.”

  “JFP Athletics, huh?”

  “Do you know anything about the company or him?”

  “I remember when they used to headquarter here in Maine.” Ian frowned. “Raised a little bit of a stink when Prescott moved them out to California about ten years ago.”

  “Peggy mentioned something about that.”

  “That put most of his employees here out of work, and there was talk that he moved to take advantage of cheaper labor out West. Maybe even illegal labor if he could get away with it, some said. I don’t know if there was anything to that, of course.” Ian pushed the articles back across the desk to her. “Sounds like he really loved the girl, though. I wonder how long he kept looking for her.”

  Annie nodded. “I was curious about that too. You know, I was going to let this whole thing drop since I found out she’s dead, but I can’t quite do it yet. I want to know more. I tried to call Mr. Prescott, but all I could do was leave him a message. If he ever gets it, I doubt he’ll call me back. And then there’s whoever it is who doesn’t want me to find out anything about Susan at all. You don’t think there could have been something wrong with the way she died, do you? Something somebody doesn’t want me to look into?”

  “You mean murder?” Ian shrugged. “Sounds like a pretty straightforward accident to me. I’m sure the authorities looked into it at the time. You have to think about who would have benefited from her death in a case like that. This Prescott guy was pretty well off even then. I can’t imagine what Susan might have left him, if she left him anything, would be motive enough for someone that rich.”

  Annie considered for a minute. “She didn’t have any family left that I know of, and I don’t think she had money except for what she got from selling the house. As you said, that’s just pocket change for someone who owns a manufacturing company like JFP.”

  “I suppose, if you were bound and determined to find out more than you have already, you could check the court records and see if she left a will that was probated.” Ian tapped the side of his nose. “Follow the money, eh?”

  “Good idea. Maybe I’ll add a trip to the Lincoln County Courthouse to my to-do list.”

  Once she had left the town hall, Annie walked down to the post office to mail a few of Gram’s embroidered aprons back home to LeeAnn. Then she walked back up Main Street to get a few staples from Magruder’s Groceries. After that, she went next door to Malone’s Hardware.

  All the time she was looking at paint chips, she couldn’t help wondering about Susan. Why would someone warn her off if there was nothing more to know? And who was that someone?

  Finally deciding not to decide, she left the hardware store and went home. She unlocked the front door just as the telephone began to ring.

  “Ms. Dawson? This is Lisa Hendrickson from Archer Prescott’s office.”

  “Oh, hello. Thank you for calling me back.”

  “I’m sorry I don’t have better news for you, but I wanted to let you know that Mr. Prescott doesn’t speak to reporters unless the interview has been prearranged. He does appreciate your interest.”

  “But I’m not a reporter, Ms.—excuse
me, what was your name?”

  “Lisa Hendrickson.”

  “Ms. Hendrickson. As I said, I’m not a reporter. I’m just an old friend of Susan’s, and I’m trying to get some information about her. I’ve been doing a lot of digging on my own, but there are some things I’d really like to ask Mr. Prescott. I promise I won’t take up much of his time. Please tell him that.”

  Ms. Hendrickson made an impatient little huffing sound. “I’ll give him your message, Ms. Dawson, but I can’t promise you he’ll have the opportunity to return your call. He’s very busy, and he’s usually pretty firm on matters of this type.”

  “I understand. But if you’d just tell him what I said, I would appreciate it.”

  “I’ll do that. Good afternoon.”

  The click on the other end of the phone line was deafening in its finality. This might well be the last dead end.

  With a sigh, Annie picked up the decorating book she had left on the coffee table in the living room. If she couldn’t find Susan, at least she could make some kind of decision about the upstairs bathroom. She had marked two pages in the book, both with photos of gorgeous bathrooms that would fit in with the rest of the house—bathrooms with wainscoting and claw-foot bathtubs and crown molding. But which one did she like best? The black, red, and cream or the rose and taupe? If she—

  The telephone trilled, and she put the book facedown on the sofa beside her. Who could it be now?

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Ms. Dawson?”

  It was a man’s voice, deep and warm, a voice she didn’t recognize.

  “Who’s calling, please?”

  “This is Archer Prescott. You left a message with my assistant asking me to call.”

  9

  A masculine chuckle came through the line. “Well, you know how it is, Ms. Dawson. When you’re in a position like mine, it’s hard to accomplish anything if you don’t have someone to weed out some of the calls. Lisa does an excellent job.”

  “I know you must be very busy, Mr. Prescott, but—”

  “Call me Arch. If you were a friend of Susan’s, it’s only right.”