A Secret in the Attic
Written By
Samantha Jillian Bayarr
Copyright © 2004 by Samantha Jillian Bayarr
Edited by
Nicole Aulisio [email protected]
Angela Ritenour [email protected]
Carolyn Cook [email protected]
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form either written or electronically without the express permission of the author or publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and are therefore used fictitiously. Any similarity or resemblance to actual persons; living or dead, places or events is purely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or publisher.
All brand names or product names mentioned in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names, and are the sole ownership of their respective holders. Livingston Hall Publishers is not associated with any products or brands named in this book.
Also by Samantha Jillian Bayarr
LWF Series for Women
Little Wild Flower Book I
Little Wild Flower Book II
The Taming of a Wild Flower
Little Wild Flower Prequel
General Fiction
The Apothecary
The Darkroom
Me and My Shadow
Romance Novella Collection
Milk Maid in Heaven
A Secret in the Attic
The Anniversary
The Fountain of Youth
Young Adult Fiction
Raven Finch and the Curse of the Dead Woods
Raven Finch and the Curse of Mooreloc’s Crystal
The Olivia Madison Journals
Olivia Plus Bug Juice Equals Trouble
Stephanie Goes on Strike
Ashley’s Worst Nightmare
April Showers Bring Mud
Anna’s Tree House
CHAPTER ONE
Amy could hear the jingling of the bells that hung on the front door of her grandmother’s bookstore all the way in the storeroom, alerting her that she had a customer. The cool, autumn breeze that blew in from the open door caused her to shiver slightly. When she poked her head around the corner, she spotted an older gentleman perusing the shelves in the botanical section.
She surveyed the man for a moment before approaching him. He was well-dressed in brown, tweed trousers with brown suspenders. He wore a brown derby and carried his suit jacket over one arm while he plucked a book from the shelf.
“May I help you find something, Sir?” Amy finally asked when she stood next to the man.
When he looked at her, the color drained from his face. The man gently took Amy’s hands into his own.
“You look like my Annabelle.”
Amy looked into his wide eyes that suddenly turned dark. She recognized the same, sad look that often hovered over her grandmother when she was deep in thought. It was like a dark cloud that never seemed to lift its shadow.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Amy said. “Maybe you have me confused with someone else. My grandmother just gave me this store. She has been here for twenty-five years, but I’ve only been here for a few months. I’m not even from around here.”
Amy didn’t normally rattle on so much to perfect strangers, but she didn’t like the confusion she saw in this poor man’s eyes. She struggled to remember when the last time her Grandma Annie had even been in the bookstore, and if she had had the opportunity to help the dispirited man in the past. Amy was still getting used to dealing with the overwhelming responsibility of the store, but she’d already discovered that customers could sometimes be difficult. The look of bewilderment on the man’s face was disheartening to Amy, and she wanted desperately to help him in any way she could.
“I’m sorry, young lady. I hope I haven’t startled you. It’s just that you hold a striking resemblance to a woman I knew a long time ago. But I know you couldn’t be my Annabelle—she’d be in her late sixties now—just two years younger than I am.” He lowered his head. “Where has the time gone?”
Amy didn’t know how to comfort the poor man, but the smell of fresh coffee brewing gave her an idea.
“Would you like to go next door and have a cup of coffee with me? Perhaps if you sit for a minute, you will feel better.”
He smiled at Amy. “You are very kind. I think I would like to sit while I wait for my grandson to return.”
The man nodded and Amy brought him through an open doorway that led to a small coffee shop that occupied the other side of the bookstore. Both the coffee shop and the bookstore were now hers; given to her on her twenty-first birthday by her grandmother. Ever since the aging woman had taken an early retirement, she’d given Amy the liberty of running both stores with little instruction.
“Two coffees please, Cindy,” Amy said to the waitress behind the counter.
She sat down across from the man, holding out her hand to him.
“I’m Amy Lucas,” she said, adding to the noise of the busy coffee shop.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Amy. I’m Henry.” The darkness in his eyes brightened.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Henry. How long have you lived in the area?”
“I’m not from this area either. My grandson, Connor, is taking me around the town today. He’s almost twenty—my youngest grandchild.”
“Did he come into the store with you?”
“No. He’s looking for athletic shoes next door. He says he likes to jog around the park.”
Cindy brought the coffee to the table, along with two cinnamon rolls, which she knew were Amy’s favorite.
Amy smiled. “Thanks, Cindy.”
A bus boy cleared the dishes from the next table, while Amy wrapped cold hands around the warm mug filled with steaming coffee.
“You have a beautiful smile, just like my Annabelle. And your eyes are the same greenish blue I remember her having,” Henry said, in between sipping his coffee.
Amy didn’t want to pry into Henry’s life by asking questions about Annabelle, but she had to admit, she was pretty curious to know what compelled this stranger.
“Would you like to tell me about her?”
Henry swallowed the last sip of his coffee and set the mug on the table. “I was about your age when I met Annabelle—it was the summer after graduation—she was only eighteen years old. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen—and smart, too. She always could outwit me, no matter what the subject.”
“She sounds wonderful.”
“She was wonderful, indeed,” Henry said. “I was going to marry her, but…”
Henry’s voice trailed off and he looked at Amy with tears pooling in his pale, blue eyes. Amy placed her hand over his to comfort him.
“Did something happen to her?” Amy was almost afraid to ask the question.
“She married another fellow. She said he was her destiny because some family book told her so. It sounded like voodoo to me, but she said we weren’t meant to be.”
“That does sound a little odd, but maybe she had other reasons and made up that story so she wouldn’t hurt your feelings.” Amy knew it was a long-shot, but she didn’t know what else to say to the poor old man.
“I actually thought I saw her in this very bookstore a few months ago, but the place was so crowded I couldn’t get near enough to talk to her, so I gave up and left. I’m not one for crowds.”
The jingle of the bells from the front door jolted Amy from the awkward situation. As her eyes lifte
d, she caught sight of a handsome young man—a little young for her, but cute, nonetheless. He brushed a hand through his thick, brown hair, as he looked up at her with blue eyes that mirrored Henry’s.
He walked toward her, but fixed his eyes on Henry.
“Are you ready, Grandfather?”
“My coffee is gone, so I suppose I’m ready,” he said, smiling at Amy.
“I’m Connor,” the grandson said. “And I see you’ve met my grandfather. I hope he hasn’t been too much trouble for you, Ma’am.”
Ma’am! You’re practically the same age I am.
She took the hand that he held out to her. “I’m Amy. Your grandfather hasn’t been any trouble for me. I actually enjoyed his company. I’m afraid he had me confused with someone named Annabelle at first, but I think we cleared that up.”
“I’m sorry, Amy. He doesn’t usually talk so much to strangers.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me—your grandfather and I are old friends now,” she said as she stood and patted Henry on the shoulder. “He’s welcome to come in and see me anytime.”
Amy cleared the table and Connor followed her as she deposited the dishes on the end of the counter for Cindy.
“Lately he talks of this Annabelle,” Connor said. “But he doesn’t give a lot of clues as to who she is.”
“Well like I said, he thought I was Annabelle, but then he realized it was impossible for me to be her. At first I thought he might have mixed up his Annabelle with my grandmother, since he thinks he saw her in here a few months back. She ran the bookstore and coffee shop up until a few months ago when she gave them to me as a graduation gift. But he told me he hasn’t seen his Annabelle since she was eighteen.”
“Now that’s a new piece to the puzzle,” Connor said. “Your grandmother’s name wouldn’t by any chance be Annabelle, would it?
Amy leaned against the counter. “No. Her name is Annie.”
Connor motioned for Amy to follow him back to the table where Henry sat patiently waiting for them.
“I wish we could find this Annabelle,” Amy said.
Concern washed over his face. “Do you really think that’s a wise thing to do after all these years?”
“Look how sad your grandfather is,” Amy said, pausing before reaching the table. “It might just do him some good if you could find out more about this mystery woman and try to locate her.”
“I wish I could,” Connor said. “But I just don’t have much time. I have a full class schedule this semester at the university.”
When they reached the table, Henry stood and held his hand out to Amy. “Thank you for a lovely afternoon, Amy. I hope to see you again soon.”
Amy shook his hand. “It was very nice to meet you. Feel free to come in and have coffee with me any time.”
“Thank you, I think I’ll do that,” Henry said. “Maybe I could bend your ear some more about Annabelle.”
“I’d like that,” Amy said. “It was nice to meet you, Connor. I hope you’ll both come back again soon.”
“Thanks, Amy,” Connor said, as the two men left the store.
Amy watched them walk down the windy sidewalk until they were out of view. Her focus turned to the passing cars, where multi-colored leaves mesmerized her as they tossed about in the street. She loved Indiana in the fall, and Grandma’s had always been a nice place to visit during the summer with its quaint little shops and ice cream socials that gathered the entire town in one place. But now; living here had taken on a whole new meaning. She was used to city living. Aside from her grandmother, her family and friends were now an hour and thirty minutes away, and she was beginning to feel the tug of her heart from loneliness. She wondered if she could get used to the slow-motion of the town, and if it would ever feel like home.
****
On Sunday, Amy woke early, remembering that her grandmother was out of town. She had longed for the opportunity to have lunch with her and have a nice visit to catch up on things. Since she came to live here, she hadn’t had the opportunity to ask the aging woman why she really gave her the bookstore. She had been reluctant to bring up the subject because she believed, as did her mother and step-father, that she needed some time away from her boyfriend, Jonathon. And grandma was so opinionated against him; always telling her not to fall too hard for him. She’d hoped he’d win her over when he came to visit next week, but her grandmother wouldn’t return for almost two weeks.
Amy drove through downtown toward the center where the large fountain occupied the middle of the circled road. From there she could better hear the chimes from the bell tower of the old, stone church. She loved the sound of the bells chiming over her lunch break, while she sat at her favorite table out on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop. Listening to them each day gave her a sense of peace.
She stepped toward the fountain and sat on its edge, the bells chimed loudly, echoing in the center of downtown. The church, with its large white pillars decorating the front entrance and the tall, arched, stained glass windows on both sides of the building, complimented the grand architecture of the block, with the cobblestone road.
To Amy’s surprise, Henry and Connor were seated on the fountain in the crowded square. Henry spotted her and motioned with his hand for her to join them. She reluctantly walked toward them, thinking that she wished she’d worn her best Sunday dress. She felt far too casual for a visit with anyone.
Henry cleared his throat. “Would you like to sit with us?”
Amy nodded, then, lowered herself between the two men on the edge of the fountain.
Henry stood up and began to hum along with a hymn that rang out through the square.
Amy and Connor shared a brief smile, until the choir rang out even louder. With the large wooden doors of the church propped open, it was loud enough to hear it echo around the fountain. Amy supposed that was why so many had gathered around. Amy’s family weren’t regular church-goers, but she had to admit it was peaceful around the fountain listening to the choir singing, and made her think of her family back home. The choir and congregation sung each song with such hearty enthusiasm, while Amy thought it amusing that even the birds seemed to keep time with their singing.
As the choir was beginning to wind down, Henry cradled her hand in his. “Would you like to have brunch with us today?”
Amy was a little shocked by his offer. “Do you mean with your family?”
“Please join us—we can be your family away from home.”
With an offer like that, how could she refuse? Besides, she wasn’t even sure where her grandmother had run off to, and didn’t count on seeing her for a meal anytime soon.
“Thank you, Henry. I’d love to.”
“I could have one of my grandsons pick you up.”
Henry winked at her.
Is this a setup? Maybe I should mention Jonathon.
“I don’t mind driving myself,” she spouted off like a chicken. “If you give me the address and some good directions.”
“It’s a date then,” Henry said.
A date? With who? I sure hope Henry doesn’t think he can play match-maker. And Connor is too young for me anyway—not that it matters because I have Jonathon.
Don’t I?
Amy felt her cheeks warm, and her heart beat nervously when Connor smiled at his grandfather’s comment. She tried pushing the thought from her mind as she walked around the square toward her car, both men on her heels. Being new in town, she was excited at the prospect of making new friends, but she decided to make it clear from the beginning that she did not want to be set up with Connor. Perhaps by the time she arrived for brunch, she would muster up enough courage to speak up about Jonathon.
When they reached her car, she grabbed her notebook and pen from the passenger seat so Connor could write down the directions for her.
When he was through, he handed the notebook back to her. She barely glanced at it.
“I’m pretty sure I know where this is. I think I can find my way.”
>
“If you’re not sure, I can arrange a ride for you. It’s all the way over in Kendallville.”
Henry’s eyes twinkled in the sun like he was up to something, but she pushed aside the thought.
Shame on me for suspecting a kind, old man like Henry of trying to lure me to brunch under false pretenses.
She thanked them, and hopped in her car, intending to go back to the oversized apartment above the store to change into something more suitable for Sunday brunch with a family she’d only met two members of. Before she could pull away from her parking spot, a large black car stopped and picked up Henry and Connor.
“They have their own driver?” she said out loud.
She retrieved the notebook from the passenger’s seat to get another look at the address. In her nervousness over accepting the invitation, she hadn’t realized that they lived in the Bennington Mansion over in Kendallville. Come to think of it, she hadn’t even gotten their last name. How could she show up at the mansion in anything she owned? Her entire wardrobe was all too casual. She looked at the clock on her dashboard. She had three hours before she was due to arrive at the mansion. Maybe she could find a dress shop that was open today.
****
A Secret in the Attic (Mystery/Suspense/Romance) Page 1