The Drowned Woman Page 6

  ‘They’ll stay away as long as Simon doesn’t play cards. The problem is I have no intention or desire to police my husband.’ Daphne looked at me with sad eyes. ‘You and Zeke are so in love. I hope you know how lucky you are. Zeke is a good man. He will never do … never mind.’ Daphne wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘Never mind that. I just didn’t want you to think that I didn’t know what Simon had done.’ She sighed. ‘It’s just a matter of time before he does it again. He gets bored here, bored with the mill, his father, bored with me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Daphne,’ I said. I wanted to hug her. I was sorry, for her and for Toby.

  ‘Thanks for listening. Please don’t tell Zeke. It’s rather embarrassing.’

  ‘I can’t promise that,’ I said. ‘He’s my husband, Daphne. We don’t keep secrets.’

  ‘Fine. You do what you need to do. I need to get busy.’ She stood and brushed the hay off her breeches. She picked up the wheelbarrow and pushed it toward a pile of clean shavings, redolent with pine.

  * * *

  Back at the house, Zeke rampaged through our bedroom. He rummaged through the drawers and wardrobe, pulling clothes out and tossing them into a pile in the suitcase that lay open on the bed. Helen tried to fold the clothes as Zeke threw them at her, so the result was a small pile of folded clothes, next to an ever-growing pile of T-shirts, pants, and ties.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I followed behind him, taking the clothes that he tossed on the bed, still on their hanger, and putting them back in the closet. Helen folded clothes as fast as she could, not looking at either one of us.

  ‘We are leaving,’ Zeke said. ‘I’ve had it with my father. Damn the mill, damn Simon, and damn him. I’ve reached the limit of my ability to cope.’ He looked at the white shirts he held in his hands, handed them to me, and walked to the window. I hung the shirts up and went over to Helen.

  ‘Come and get us in time to dress for dinner,’ I said in a soft voice. Relief flooded her face.

  She ran out of the room before either one of us changed our minds.

  I fussed with the pile of clothes on the bed while Zeke stared out the window.

  ‘You don’t think we should leave?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t think you should run away.’ I went to him and took his hands in mine. ‘You’ll never forgive yourself, and you know it. Don’t you think you should face your father?’ I realized as I uttered the words that I needed to face Zeke’s father, too. I vowed then and there that Will Sr would never again make me cry.

  ‘We can face him together,’ I said. ‘If we need to retreat, we can do so together.’

  ‘Something’s bothering you.’ Zeke met my eyes. ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’

  ‘I walked into town today,’ I said. ‘On the way home, I saw Simon and another man. I hid and spied on them. Simon gave the man a packet of money. He told the man that he was finished with him and to stay away from him.’

  I wanted to tell him about the lost love between Simon and Daphne, and the sadness in her eyes when she spoke of it, but Zeke chose this moment to kiss me. Daphne faded from my mind.

  * * *

  The mellow afternoon sun filtered through the leaves and cast patterns on the hardwood floor in the bedroom. Content, I lay in bed next to a sleeping Zeke, as the shadows danced in the afternoon breeze.

  ‘Miss.’ Helen knocked softly.

  ‘Just a second,’ I said.

  Next to me, Zeke stirred.

  ‘Time to get up,’ I said, belting my dressing gown around my waist as I slipped into the sitting room, pulling the bedroom door shut behind me.

  ‘Here’s some ice water and lemonade. It’s hotter than blazes this afternoon.’ Helen set the tray down and locked the door, leaving the key in the lock. ‘Shall I draw you a nice, cool bath?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  Helen glanced at the closed door, a knowing look on her face. ‘Did you want to wear the black dress, with the pearls?’

  ‘I was thinking the emerald dress tonight,’ I said, knowing that my husband favored that dress, and I liked the look in his eyes when he saw me in it. Zeke came into the room, buttoning the shirt he had worn earlier.

  ‘I’ll bathe after you,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

  ‘Your shirt’s buttoned crooked, and you’re barefoot. Where are you going?’

  ‘To see Granna.’ He shut the door behind him before I could inquire further.

  I soaked in bathwater scented with some exotic spice that Daphne had left for me. An hour later, I sipped cold water from a crystal glass as Helen brushed my hair. She swept it up and secured it in place with the silver combs.

  ‘I’m glad you don’t wear it short,’ she said.

  ‘It’s easier this way.’ I examined my reflection in the mirror. ‘I can pin it up. If I left it short, it would just frizz up.’

  ‘Most women would give their eye teeth for hair like yours,’ Helen said. She cleared the hairbrush and extra pins from my vanity and placed them in the small dish that lay there. ‘You’ll have fun tonight,’ she said.

  We were interrupted when the door opened and Zeke came in. He winked at me, smiled at Helen, and went into our bedroom to dress for dinner.

  I dismissed Helen. She hurried down to the kitchen for dinner with Mrs Griswold, after which she would spend a quiet evening reading. I told her not to wait up for me, and she was grateful. I was sitting on the sofa, reading a magazine, when Daphne knocked on my door.

  ‘Hello. I came in to see—’ She stopped. ‘That dress is fabulous. You look absolutely stunning.’ She laughed. ‘And to think I was coming in to see if you needed a loan of clothes, shoes or stockings. You’ll put us all to shame. The green reminds me of the Caen eyes. I did bring you this,’ she said, holding up a lightweight shawl embroidered in jewel tones with silken thread. ‘It can get chilly in the house, especially of an evening.’ She fiddled with the shawl for a moment. ‘Sarah, I wanted to tell you not to let my mother bother you this evening. She can act like an ogre, so I’m apologizing for her in advance.’

  Why does everyone feel compelled to apologize for their parents?

  ‘Oh, I’m sure it will be fine.’

  Daphne shook her head. ‘You don’t understand. She really is rather brutal. I just, well – I am giving you permission to be rude right back to her. That’s the only way to deal with her. If you don’t stick up for yourself, she’ll tromp all over you.’

  She kissed my cheek, passing Zeke on her way out the door.

  ‘You need shoes, darling,’ she teased him. ‘And a coat.’

  ‘Get out of here.’ His smile took the sting out of his words.

  ‘See you downstairs,’ she said, as she shut the door behind her. Zeke stared at me, his eyes sparkling. I twirled.

  ‘Who did your hair like that? You look like a movie star.’

  I caught Zeke’s reflection in the mirror. ‘What are you holding behind your back?’

  ‘A present for my beautiful wife.’ He came close and wrapped his arm around me. He held out a blue jewelry box with a brass catch on the front. I released it, and inside, tucked in a nest of white silk, under the emblazoned words Tiffany and Company – New York, lay two perfect pearls, each with a cluster of diamonds underneath. I gasped.

  ‘They’re beautiful.’

  ‘Put them on,’ he said.

  As I took the earrings out of their box and put them on, Zeke came up behind me. ‘Daphne gave me permission to be rude to her mother,’ I said. He met my eyes in the mirror, the beginning of a smile on his face.

  ‘What’s so funny? Are you saying that Daphne’s mother is really that horrid?’

  ‘Oh, she’s horrid, all right. It’s just the idea of you being rude to her, or anyone for that manner. You haven’t got rudeness in you, my love. You are social graces personified.’

  Nervous now, I broke away from his embrace. ‘Come on, let’s go down. I’m thirsty.’

  The murmur of voices echo
ed into the hallway as Zeke and I walked down the stairs.

  ‘Don’t be nervous, love.’

  ‘I’m not,’ I said.

  ‘Part of me wants to walk right past the company and go eat at the all-night diner in town,’ Zeke said.

  ‘Part of me would be happy to accompany you.’

  The crowd fell silent for just a second when Zeke and I stood in the doorway. Granna sat down in a chair, bouncing Toby on her lap. Simon and Joe Connor stood in the corner of the room. Simon had taken to ignoring me. He did so now. Daphne spoke with Will Sr, Sophie, and another woman with auburn hair interlaced with gray.

  ‘Oh, no,’ I uttered.

  Mrs Winslow did well at hiding her surprise at seeing me with Zeke. She didn’t mention our run-in at the stationer’s, thank goodness.

  ‘Come in, you two. The champagne’s just cold.’ Daphne came toward us with flutes of golden liquid, their tiny bubbles floating to the surface. I took mine and sipped.

  ‘Sarah, I think you know most everyone.’ Daphne took my arm and led me toward her mother. ‘This is my mother, Arliss Winslow. Mother, this is Zeke’s wife, Sarah. We are going to be great friends.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ Mrs Winslow said. She didn’t bother to excuse herself. She just walked away without a backward glance.

  Daphne faced me, her eyes full of concern. ‘I told you. Please don’t take anything she says or does personally.’

  Mrs Griswold supervised the two young women who had been hired for the evening to serve dinner. They wore ill-fitting black uniforms that smelled of mothballs, left over from the days when dining formally was the norm. The sideboard had been cleared of its usual bric-a-brac and now held several trivets, in anticipation of hot plates that would be served. Daphne and I meandered over to Zeke, who sat next to Granna and Toby. Toby regaled Zeke with some sort of story. He gestured while he spoke, his face serious, while Zeke did his best not to laugh. I smiled at them and sipped champagne. Daphne watched her son with adoring eyes. Granna, who had dressed for the occasion in the same long black gown and cameo broach as the night before, looked as though she had stepped out of a Brontë novel. All that was missing were the windswept moors. I had no idea how she managed such a dress in this heat. She watched me, concern etched into her eyes. She moved close to me and took my hand.

  ‘Don’t let her bother you, dear. She’s a beast and everyone knows it. If she gives you any difficulty, come to me and I’ll take care of it.’

  Joe and Simon were tucked into the corner, their heads bent together, engaged in a serious conversation. Granna she tickled Toby’s ribs. He burst into gleeful laughter.

  My head started to pound, the inchoate sign of the impending headaches that I got during times of stress. I took the warning sign as a blessing, set my champagne down, and hurried up to my room for aspirin. I had just taken the pills, and had paused before Rachel’s picture, when Arliss Winslow’s voice startled me.

  ‘What do you want?’ I didn’t bother to act polite.

  ‘I’ve something to say to you, and you’d do well to listen.’

  ‘Since you’re blocking the door, I don’t really have a choice, do I?’

  ‘I suggest you wipe that smug look off your face, young lady,’ Mrs Winslow said.

  ‘What can I do for your Mrs Winslow? Say your piece and leave me alone.’

  ‘Fine.’ She fiddled with the string of jade that hung around her neck. ‘I intend for Sophie to marry Zeke. I know that Mr Caen presented you with an annulment. I suggest you convince your husband that the best thing to do would be for you to sign it.’

  ‘Get out,’ I said.

  ‘I will win on this, Ms Bennett. I have Will Sr’s support. You don’t stand a chance.’

  ‘If you don’t leave, I’ll get my husband. You can tell him of your little plan.’

  Arliss didn’t hear me. She stared at Rachel’s picture. ‘Oh, my god.’ She almost choked on her words. The color drained from her face. She sat down on the couch, as if her knees could no longer hold her.

  ‘Mrs Winslow, are you alright? Should I get Daphne?’ I hurried over and placed a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Don’t touch me.’ She brushed my hand away and met my eyes.

  I stepped away, unsettled by this sudden change in her personality.

  Behind Arliss Winslow, the notebook which lay on my desk opened. The pages fanned out, as though someone were perusing them. Rachel appeared, a diaphanous outline in the dim light of my room. She had opened the book and was rifling through it. Arliss turned just then. She stiffened.

  ‘Rachel?’ She choked on her own words.

  I strode to the table and read the words that Rachel had left in my notebook. She knows.

  I turned to face Arliss.

  ‘What do you know? You need to tell me!’ My words cut through Arliss’s fear, strong and sure.

  She got up, her face pale and covered with a sheen of sweat. She staggered a bit, but somehow managed to make her way out of the room.

  More writing appeared in the notebook, and Rachel, with the kiss of a summer breeze, bade me follow her. She shimmered to the bedroom door and summoned me with the crook of her finger. I followed.

  Rachel moved down the stairs and into a warren of windowless hallways. I followed her, trusting that she had some purpose in mind. Arliss Winslow might know who killed Rachel and who stole the emeralds, but I was certain that Arliss Winslow would not share that information with me.

  ‘Come.’ Rachel’s voice was an icy breath in the hot summer night.

  I had been following like a blind person, unfamiliar with my surroundings, down dark corridors with no windows to light the way. God help me, I was following a ghost. When the absurdity of my situation hit me, I decided to toss it in and head back to the party. I had no business in this part of the house, and I could not explain my presence here, should I need to. But then I saw light spilling under a closed door in the hallway. I stopped. Stood frozen. In the distance I heard laughter and footsteps. Rachel disappeared into the room. When the footsteps passed, I opened the door from which the light seeped, stepped into the room, and closed the door behind me.

  A lamp had been left on. It provided a small glow of light that left the rest of the room in shadows. A soiled blue shirt lay in a heap on the floor, next to a pair of trousers. A red tie had been taken off and tossed over the back of a chair. A bed pillow and a gray army-issue blanket lay in a pile on the leather sofa. I recognized the familiar red pack of Dunhill cigarettes and the enamel lighter with the hand-painted fish that lay on the coffee table next to an ashtray filled with butts.

  Simon’s clothes. Simon’s mess. Simon’s room.

  Like all the rooms on this side of the house, a bay window took up the biggest part of one wall. I imagine it, too, had French doors that led out into the terrace. Now, the alcove was covered by the heavy brocade curtain. A desk sat in front of the window, facing the room. Rachel’s ghost stood near Simon’s desk, her arms out to her side, a look of desperation on her face.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  Her lips moved, but I couldn’t hear her. She pointed at the desk.

  The room grew cold. My breath came like dragon’s fire. I shivered and moved toward Rachel.

  ‘You want me to search the desk?’

  Rachel nodded.

  ‘What am I looking for?’ I whispered.

  Her form became more solid, the expression on her face clear. I was overcome with a feeling of desperate sadness.

  ‘The emeralds?’ I whispered.

  She nodded. Tears welled in her ghost eyes. She wiped them away and disappeared. Rachel wanted me to find the emeralds. What if they were in Simon’s desk, hidden in some secret compartment? Would that mean that Simon killed Rachel?

  The brocade curtain moved just as I reached the desk. I stopped in my tracks and listened.

  Nothing.

  A brass letter opener lay on top of the desk. I held it in my hand – a quick weapon at the ready �
�� stepped around the desk, and whipped the brocade curtain open with one sweeping gesture.

  The night air, sweetened by the jasmine that grew on the trellises that lined the back of the house, rushed over me. The frogs silenced for a moment, as if waiting to see what I would do. I slid the curtains back to their shut position. I stood behind the desk now, my back to the window. I opened the top drawer and saw the usual junk, postage stamps, an opened pack of cigarettes, a few envelopes, unopened, addressed to Simon. There were two drawers on either side of the desk. One of them held a stack of folders. I didn’t know what Rachel’s ghost wanted. There wasn’t anything in this desk. If Simon were going to hide something, surely he wouldn’t be so stupid as to hide the emeralds in the desk, where anyone could find them.

  I opened the second drawer. A rucksack made of canvas had been jammed into the back of it. I picked it up and set it on the desk.

  ‘What are you doing in here?’ Zeke startled me. ‘What’ve you got there?’

  His eyes were riveted on the bundle on the desk. He undid the cotton cord that held it together, so the fabric fell away.

  Two silver candelabras, several strings of pearls, a diamond bracelet, and a myriad of other jewelry – necklaces, earrings, brooches, and bracelets – glistened under the soft lamp on the desk. We had found the cat burglar. At the very least, we had found the burglar’s loot.

  Chapter 6

  ‘Good god,’ Zeke said.

  ‘Oh,’ I said at the same time.

  ‘Simon.’ Zeke ran his hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose, as if to stave off a headache. He took a deep breath and met my gaze. ‘Is Joe still here?’

  ‘I think so,’ I said.

  ‘Stay here. I’m going to get him.’ Zeke slipped away, leaving me with the bag of loot. I opened it and rummaged through the jewelry and silver. Some instinct made me reach into the bag until I found a black felt bag. I untied the silk string that held it fast and dumped two emeralds in my hand.

  They looked like small marbles, dense and alive and full of secrets. I had never seen emeralds that weren’t cut into facets before. These were heavy with a color so rich it stunned the eyes.