“Hard to tell. And there’s a lot of sediment.” He fished a camera from his pocket and took pictures of the well and the bones before tucking it away. From another pocket, he removed a plastic evidence bag and began to pick up the bones. He was several inches into the muck when he removed what looked like a human skull.
“That answers one question,” Hank said.
“Who do you think it could be?” Lucy asked.
“No idea.”
As Rick continued to dig in the muck, Lucy took Dolly inside and put on a fresh pot of coffee. She found a thermos in the pantry, washed it out, and filled it with coffee. Grabbing a couple of mugs, she left Dolly behind with a chew stick and returned to the site as Rick handed the bag of bones to Hank.
“Not exactly CSI,” Rick said. “But I think I collected most of them.” He hoisted a muddy boot over the side of the well and then the other. He was covered in mud from his midcalf down.
Hank studied the skull. “There’s one hell of a crack in the side of the skull. I don’t know if it happened in the fall into the well or before.”
Rick carried the bag to the tarp and carefully began to arrange the bones he’d collected.
Hank stripped off his latex gloves. “Thanks for the coffee.”
Lucy poured him a cup. “Want to take a guess?”
“Nope. Whatever clothes the person was wearing are long gone, and if they were wearing anything metal like a ring or watch, it’s either gone or sunk into the muck.”
“Never a dull moment around here, is it?” she asked.
Hank sipped his coffee. “Usually, it’s not this exciting. You must have brought it with you.”
Rick rose and stripped off his gloves before accepting coffee from Lucy. “Not much I can do on my end. I’ll bag all this up in evidence bags and drive it down to the state medical examiner’s office in Norfolk. They might be able to figure out who our mystery person is.”
“Do you have any idea how long the body’s been down there?” Lucy asked.
“I’m no expert on bones, but they’re pretty brittle,” Rick said. “Rough guess, several decades.”
“Wow.” She looked back at the house. “Mrs. B would have been living here then.”
“Well, if she knew, she took this secret to the grave with her,” Hank said.
Hank and Rick had left by noon, giving Lucy the afternoon to shower and watch another tape of Mrs. B and Beth. She was growing accustomed to seeing her mother young and excited about life.
She pulled away, not learning much from the tape, and made her way upstairs to finish her hair and makeup. She chose a hunter-green sweater, jeans, and her cowboy boots.
When the front bell rang, it was 3:30 p.m. on the dot, and after a quick glance out the side window, she opened the door to Hank. He was dressed in a dark suit, a white shirt, and a blue tie. His hair looked damp from a shower, and she had to admit that for an uptight guy, he looked pretty sweet.
She allowed Dolly to rush past her, barking and wagging her tail. His gaze swept over her. His frown deepened. “Are you ready?”
“Beth would roll over in her grave if I showed up in a dress and heels.”
“So am I overdressed?”
“Is that what you normally wear to a funeral?”
“It is.”
“Then you’re fine. Beth always insisted people be themselves.” For most of the years she’d been with her mother, she’d worried. Would Beth pay the rent? Would she cook dinner? Would she show up at school late? But for all Beth’s faults, there was a lot of good. And that’s what she wanted to honor today. She deserved it.
“The cake is in the kitchen. Let me just run upstairs and get the urn?”
“Sure.”
She hustled up the stairs, grabbed the urn off her dresser, and as she hurried down the stairs said, “If you can carry this, I’ll get the cake.”
He took the urn as she hurried into the kitchen, and she gathered the cake along with a plastic grocery bag she’d filled with paper towels and a handful of plastic spoons. There was also a serving knife made of a lovely silver. Beth would have laughed at the fancy knife, but down deep she’d still have liked the gesture of people gathering. Though Lucy could have invited the townspeople back to the house and made it an even fancier affair, Winter Cottage didn’t feel like her home, and it had never been Beth’s. Better to just keep the ceremony at the gravesite.
Dolly trotted out beside her toward Hank’s car. He was just closing up the tailgate and had opened the door when the dog hopped in without hesitating.
Lucy settled on the front seat and balanced the cake on her lap as she fastened her seat belt. Hank slid behind the wheel, and they were moving.
“Don’t be surprised if a few more trickle in. It’s a small town, and everyone knows everyone.”
She wasn’t sure how she felt about dealing with a handful of strangers today. Beth had died less than a month ago, and she’d thought she’d made peace with her passing, but now as she sat there, emotions stirred and groaned.
Natasha was waiting for them in front of the school. She had her backpack slung over her shoulder. There was a mix of hope and trepidation in her smile as she searched the line of waiting cars.
“Be sure to compliment her hair,” Lucy said.
Hank studied the girl. “She looks different.”
“Don’t say different. Say nice.”
“Roger that.”
When Natasha spotted Hank’s truck, her smile broadened so wide, it fired up emotions in Lucy simmering beneath the surface.
The girl slid into the back seat and rubbed Dolly on the head. “Oh my God, I can’t wait to eat the cake. Where are we going to eat it?”
“It’s a pretty day, and I packed a blanket. Maybe a picnic near Beth’s spot?”
“Seat belt,” Hank said. “And I like the hair.”
Natasha clicked her belt and absently touched a curl. “Thanks! I’ve never had a picnic at a graveyard before.”
“It would have been right up my mother’s alley,” Lucy said. “She’d have loved it.”
“My mom’s service was held at the Baptist church. They were supposed to bury her right after the service, but Dad hadn’t paid for anything, and the funeral director wanted his money.” She looked out the window, absently rubbing Dolly’s chest.
Lucy blinked. “What happened?”
“Funeral home gave us a discount because the embalmer liked my mom, and the church raised the rest. Maybe you could come with me sometime, and I could show you her place.”
“I’d like that,” Lucy said.
“What’s the deal with the bones?” Natasha asked.
“They are human,” Hank said.
Natasha’s eyes widened. “No way.”
“Way,” Hank said. “Sheriff took them to Norfolk this afternoon. By the way, Rick says if he can get back in time, he’ll stop by the service, but with traffic chances are slim.”
“I appreciate the effort,” Lucy said, touched.
“Do you really like my hair?” Natasha asked.
“I do,” Hank replied.
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
She relaxed back in her seat. “I do too.”
Hank drove through town and out to the beach road. Five miles later he turned onto a road flanked with dried cornstalks harvested months ago. Dirt kicked out around the tires, creating a brown plume that followed them toward an open field.
Parked on the field were at least two dozen cars and trucks. “Are we in the right spot?” Lucy asked.
“We are.” He parked behind a white SUV marked SHERIFF and shut off the truck.
“All these people knew my mother?” Lucy asked.
“Folks have come to pay their respects. It’s a close town.”
“I should have baked a bigger cake,” she said.
Hank took the cake from her and handed it to Natasha. He retrieved the urn with Beth’s ashes. “Do you want to carry these?”
�
�I suppose.” She accepted the urn, hesitating as she stared at the crowd of strangers waiting by the wrought-iron fence.
“Go on,” Hank said softly.
She drew in a breath and walked across the grass field as Dolly ran ahead, greeting everyone. To her, they were all old friends.
An older man dressed in a suit similar to Hank’s closed the gap between them and was the first to greet her. “Lucy, I’m Noah Garrison. Hank’s father. My wife, Nancy, and I came to pay our respects. Sorry we weren’t here to greet you, but we’ve been traveling. We knew your mother in high school.”
Lucy remembered her mom talking about Noah on the tape. She’d vowed to get a date with him as soon as he broke up with his girlfriend, which didn’t appear to have happened.
Nancy stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Lucy’s arm. “Your mama and I were cheerleaders together. My word, you look just like her.”
“She never talked about this place,” Lucy said.
Nancy squeezed Lucy’s arm. “It’s all right. None of that matters now. Come on inside the fence.”
Several others greeted her, including Faye Reynolds, who stood by a folding table covered in white linen and filled with an array of covered-dish meals.
“Natasha,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “Go on and put that cake on the dessert side of the table.”
“Did you make all this?” Lucy asked.
“I made my sweet-potato casserole, but we all brought a dish,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “The Beth I knew would have wanted her last gathering to be a celebration.”
Why had Beth run from this town and these people who cared enough after a thirty-year absence to gather and celebrate her life? Lucy hesitated a moment before she trusted her voice not to break. “Thank you.”
Lucy stepped inside the fence, noticing the collection of stones marking the lives of the Jessup family. These were her mother’s people, her people. There were graves for Sally and Eric and the five boys: Stanley, Joseph, Michael, Aaron, and Samuel—who she knew now was her grandfather. Beside Samuel was the spot for his wife, Donna, and next to her was the grave for Beth. There were other graves, names she didn’t recognize, but her attention was pulled toward the newest grave. The headstone read, SCOTT JESSUP, UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS, 1989–2017. On top of the stone were two overturned shot glasses.
“So do you want to say any words?” Hank asked.
Lucy tore her gaze away from the stone. “Beth wasn’t big on ceremony, but I can say a word or two.”
As everyone gathered around and grew silent, she gripped the urn as a flood of emotions washed over her. She choked back tears, but several still spilled down her cheeks as she knelt in front of the hole. She set the urn in the ground.
“You’re home, Mama,” she said. “Here’s hoping you find the peace you never knew. Here’s hoping your folks are waiting for you and whatever drove you away is long forgotten and you can forgive each other.”
She gathered a clump of the damp, sandy soil and clutched it in her fingers. “Bye, Mama.” She tossed the dirt onto the urn, rose, and stepped back.
Hank came up beside her. “There are a few folks here who would like to say a word about your mother. Do you mind?”
“No. I’d welcome it.”
Noah Garrison was the first to speak. “It’s been thirty years since I’ve seen Beth Jessup, but right now as I look at her daughter, I feel like the last three decades vanished in a blink. The last best memory I have of her is about a month before graduation. A few of us were leaving for the beach, but she was staying behind. Beth said she was working on a secret project and couldn’t be pulled away. She gave me a big hug and asked me to bring back the biggest seashell I could find.” He drew in a breath and released it slowly as he reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a conch shell. It was bleached white with MYRTLE BEACH painted on the side. “I couldn’t believe she took off without a word. I couldn’t find the actual shell I brought back, but I found this one at home.” He walked up to the grave and laid it inside. “I always tell my kids to keep their word. I promised her a shell.”
He stepped back next to his wife and threaded his fingers between hers. Next to speak was Mrs. Reynolds. She adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat. “Beth was one of my best students. I knew she had so much potential, and I wanted her to realize that potential. She was troubled, but I thought if I prodded her and raised her expectations, she would realize she could be so much more.” Mrs. Reynolds held up a folded yellow piece of paper. “She left before I could issue the last report card. I told her she could get straight As if she applied herself.” She shook her head. “All As and an incomplete. I think she purposefully didn’t turn in that last project just to prove me wrong.” She laid the card in the grave next to the shell.
The last to speak was Arlene. She’d changed out of her waitress uniform and let down her red hair. With a shrug of her shoulders, she said, “Beth would have had a fit if she saw all the grim faces. She’d have told you to lighten up.” Arlene fished her phone out of her pocket. She pressed the screen and “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” started to play.
Natasha came up beside Lucy and slipped her hand into hers.
This quirky kind of gathering suited Beth perfectly. When the song ended, Lucy wiped away tears as a laugh stuttered over her lips. She squeezed Natasha’s hand.
Megan had arrived, and she stood outside the wrought-iron fence. She raised a hand when her gaze met Lucy’s.
“This is supposed to be a celebration. So please start eating.” A rumble of laughter came over the crowd.
The sound of screeching wheels rumbling up the road had everyone turning to see a beat-up red pickup. A disheveled man wearing faded, torn jeans and a scuffed leather jacket got out of the truck, swigged the last of his beer, and tossed the can in the front seat. He ran stout fingers through his shoulder-length hair and shouted, “Am I late?”
Natasha groaned and shrank closer to Lucy. “Oh God, it’s Dad.”
Hank and his father cut away from the crowd and moved toward Brian Willard, stopping him a few feet from the entrance to the cemetery.
Hank said something to Willard, but his voice was low and didn’t carry far. Willard frowned, and when Noah reached for his arm, he tugged it away.
“What? I’m here to pay my respects. I knew Beth better than any of you dumbasses,” Willard shouted.
He looked past Hank and Noah to Lucy, his eyes transfixed for a split second. “I swear it’s just like looking at Beth. She was a sweet, fine-looking girl.” He shrugged. “Of course, she could be a lying bitch who would cut your heart out as soon as look at you.”
“That’s enough,” Hank said. “Time to leave.”
Willard jerked away from Hank’s grip. “I told Beth if she left me, her life wouldn’t amount to shit.” His gaze roamed over to Lucy. “Looks like I was right.”
If she’d been behind her bar, she’d have been reaching for the Peacemaker right about now. “Get out of here.”
“Whoo-wee,” Willard said, laughing. “And I can see you have your mother’s fire in your eyes. When she looked at me like that, I knew I had a wildcat on my hands.”
This time, when Hank grabbed Willard’s arm, the man couldn’t wrestle free. Hank shoved him forward with a hard thrust that sent Willard tripping several steps before he caught himself. He jerked his jacket back in place and stabbed his fingers through his hair. “If she’s in town to find her daddy, she’s going to have to look far and wide. That Beth never met a man she didn’t like.”
Noah shoved Willard toward his truck. Willard held up his hands. “Fine, I get when I’m not wanted.” He leveled his gaze back on Natasha. “You can stand over there and pretend you’re going to find better, but I’m your daddy, and no fancy hairdo is gonna change that. We’re blood.”
Willard’s laughter rose up, sending a chill down Lucy’s spine. As much as she wanted to discount him, he was the kind of man Beth had always gravitated toward. But it was the expression on Noah Gar
rison’s face when he looked at her that stole her breath away. In one glance, he telegraphed a lifetime of pain and regret.
And she realized with a mixture of relief, happiness, and regret that he had inadvertently shared something with Beth. He dropped his gaze back toward his wife. They looked at each other. She smiled at him, but her expression and body language were cold. There was an old wound between them.
The concerned look the couple shared mirrored Lucy’s.
She had to wonder if Noah Garrison was her father.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Lucy
January 17, 2018
When Hank, Natasha, and Lucy parked in front of Winter Cottage, they all sat in silence for several beats until Dolly broke the ice and started barking at a squirrel.
Natasha opened the door and the dog rushed out. “Lucy, you going anywhere?” she asked.
“No. Staying right here.”
“Your hair really looks great,” Hank said.
Natasha nodded. “I know. But thanks.” The girl took off after the dog, running toward the reeds ringing the edge of the bay’s shore.
“So what is Brian Willard’s story?” Lucy asked.
“What you saw today pretty much sums him up. Natasha’s mother was the parent. And since she’s been gone, he’s gone downhill even more. Sadly, the selfish bastard is trying his best to drag Natasha with him.”
“He knew my mother. So did your dad.”
He watched as the dog ran in and out of the reeds. “So it seems.”
Leave it to Beth to create drama from the grave. “Thank you for today, Hank.”
“Sure.”
“Why are you being so nice? You already have the lease signed by me.”
“I did what’s right.” When he turned toward her, his eyes were direct and wary all at once. “And I’m still not convinced you’re going to stay. This is not an easy place to live. Hell, the town is on the verge of dying, and I don’t know if I can save it.”
“Then why are you trying?”
“Family. Tradition. I grew up here and sank deep roots. You haven’t, Lucy. Beth didn’t.”
She got out of the car and took her cake plate from the back before she called to Natasha and headed to the front door. In front of the door was a plastic grocery bag filled with old articles that looked like they’d been printed from microfilm. Mrs. Reynolds had delivered on her promise.
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