Trouble Restored Read online

  “What?” Tommie asked. She was busy closing the trap door and recovering it with leaves. “Did you identify the woman we saw?”

  “Yes, but first things first. In the story you said Jix had to stay at the manor. She could never leave. She didn’t go to school.”

  “That’s right,” Tommie said. “I assumed she was sick or something. Some reason she didn’t go to school with Ada. And then I thought it was because she was a ghost.”

  Harley couldn’t help the thrill of excitement he felt. Finally, something was beginning to make sense. “I think Loftus Manor may have been a way station on the underground railroad to help slaves flee north to freedom. I’ll bet there are more tunnels that extend farther into the woods. We can check with Katie and Hank. Think about it. This passage leads into the woods, and not half a mile away is the Coosa River. They could have had a boat waiting to take them upriver, or possibly even just followed the river north, through Tennessee and on toward Illinois.” His voice softened. “I think Jix was a little girl, a young slave, who stayed with your ancestors. I think they gave her a home, for whatever reason. She may have been too sick to continue, or perhaps she had no one to watch after her.”

  * * *

  Tommie found it difficult to breathe. Harley was right. She knew it in her bones. “So Samuel wanted to honor Jix and keep her as part of Loftus Manor so he wrote a ghost story about her.”

  “Yes, he memorialized her in his story,” Harley said. “That is so like Samuel. Somehow he learned her story and he didn’t want her to be forgotten.”

  “Will we ever find out why she didn’t go north with the others who surely kept moving away from Alabama?” Tommie asked.

  “That’s another mystery, and it may have to do with the person in the wall. You said it was a smaller skeleton. Female, you thought. What if it was Jix’s mother or her big sister or someone she was traveling with. It makes sense, if the older woman died of some illness and the owners of the manor at the time had to get rid of the body—for whatever reason they couldn’t dig a grave and bury her. Perhaps they were being watched all the time. Or it’s possible there were pattyrollers all in the woods, watching for slave sympathizers. Folks back then didn’t tolerate those who fought against slavery or attempted to help slaves gain their freedom. A burial might have been too dangerous.”

  The sadness that touched Tommie’s heart told her that Harley had hit upon the truth. Perhaps they would be able to prove it, or not, but in her gut she believed Harley’s theory to be true. A chill brushed against her left check, as if the touch of a cold hand had drifted over her. She looked toward the manor, and for a moment she thought she saw someone standing in her bedroom window. For a split second, it looked like a young girl, staring longingly out into the grounds.

  Trouble, too, was fixated on the window and he let out a low, pitiful meow.

  But in a moment the figure was gone, possibly an accident of the lighting in the bedroom, perhaps the flutter of her curtains where she—or someone else—had left the window open. The image of a human was there and then gone. It was Jix waving goodbye, Tommie thought, and the sadness intensified.

  Harley picked up Trouble. “Let’s go back to the manor.”

  “Harley, before I take another step you have to tell me. Did you see the woman who was in the house? Did you recognize her?” Along with being unnerved by the adventure in the tunnel, Tommie also felt a sense of dread. “Was it someone we know?”

  “I’ll tell you everything shortly,” Harley said. “We still haven’t talked to the genealogist in Knoxville. Let’s head down to the manor and go through some records and find his name. Then we’ll move to the cottage, where we have better phone reception. We’re going to figure every bit of this out, and then you can take up residence in Loftus Manor without anything from the past hanging over your head.” He took her arm and gently urged her forward.

  Trouble sprang out of Harley’s arms and began running toward the manor.

  “Look, Trouble is already on the way. That one fact gives me a lot of comfort,” Tommie said. “We’re going to solve this.”

  * * *

  Tommie sat in the rocker on the porch. She held her cell phone in her hand. She had three bars of service, but still she didn’t make her call.

  On the small table beside her was a Lynchburg lemonade and a note with the name of the Knoxville genealogist Samuel had consulted with on it. She hadn’t dialed yet—Harley still had to reveal what he’d learned in his pursuit of the intruder. He’d urged her to sip her drink and calm down before they talked. He was worried about her, and she could understand since her breathing was shallow and her heart racing.

  The sounds coming from the kitchen told her Harley was busy making them something to eat. He’d promised to divulge his findings once Tommie ate something hot.

  Waiting wasn’t Tommie’s strong suit, though. She couldn’t wait any longer. Time was an eel, slithering through her fingers. And no matter how she chided herself for being foolish, she felt the danger closing in on them. Action was required.

  She dialed the Knoxville number and waited for Marlin Lovett to answer. She found him to be a kind, compassionate man who willingly answered all of her questions—with surprising clarity, but few new facts. He recalled Samuel’s interest in the underground railroad and the role Loftus Manor—like many other anti-slavery homeowners—played in ferrying slaves to freedom. By the time Harley brought out a tray of food for her, she’d finished her conversation and was waiting to tell him the news. The delicious smell of beef stew teased her appetite. She hadn’t been hungry at all until she smelled Harley’s cooking. The man was good with the pots and pans.

  “I’ll tell you what I found out from Mr. Lovett, but first, what about the strange woman you chased? Quid pro quo.” She wasn’t going to tell Harley another thing until he came clean.

  He sat in the rocker beside her, his own tray at the ready. When he put a bowl of tender beef on the floor for Trouble and the cat dug into it with great appetite, he sighed. “Okay, I know who she was. I recognized her car, though I can’t prove she was driving it.”

  “And you’re going to tell me her name this instant, right?” Tommie was ready to stand up and snatch the truth from him.

  “I am. But I don’t want you to react right away. You have to eat, and then we have to decide how to proceed.”

  “Okay?” Tommie felt like she was pulling teeth. “Who is it?”

  “Nina Ahearn.”

  Tommie was a little surprised by the fact that she wasn’t surprised at all. Nina Ahearn made perfect sense. And now that they knew what she was up to… “We should call the cops on her. I’ve had enough. We already know she didn’t marry Samuel and the whole fake marriage thing is a sham. Now she’s trying to make me think I’m crazy or the house is haunted.” She reached for her phone. “I’m done with this.”

  “Not yet,” Harley said. “That’s why I wanted to give you time to think about it. Nina has already lost her bid for any part of the inheritance. She should have followed Odell Rain’s lead and left town. But she didn’t. And for whatever her reasons, she’s been tormenting you with her ghost appearances, her prying. If there’s no money in this for her, what’s the motive?”

  “I don’t know, which is why we should call the police,” Tommie said. “I can’t keep hanging back and being tentative. This is going to end, and it’s going to end badly for Nina and all who are behind this.”

  “Completely agree, but—” Harley’s eyes were a deadly gray. “But why don’t we see if we can’t use Nina for our own good.”

  Trouble looked up from the food he was intently consuming. “Me-ow!” He held up a paw as if to high five Harley.

  “How?” Tommie asked.

  “We let her find something. Something that she’ll take back to the people she’s conspiring with. That way, we can get her and the head of the snake.”

  “I like that idea,” Tommie said. “I like it a lot.”

  Tommie h
ad just finished the last bite of her stew when car lights came down the long, winding drive.

  “Oh, dang. I forgot all about this. It’s Nancy Smith. I invited her for a drink and to see the house. She’s been so helpful to us.” Tommie regretted the invitation but it was too late to rescind.

  “Let’s make it a short visit,” Harley said. “We both need to talk and plan our next move. As well as get some sleep.”

  The way he looked at her lips made Tommie think sleep might not be on his mind. And that was perfectly fine with her. They left the cottage and started walking at a fast clip toward the manor where Nancy’s taillights burned bright red in the dark night.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “I hope I’m not early,” Nancy said. She got out of her car and waited for them as they walked down the drive.

  Tommie noted with amusement and a bit of sadness that Nancy had changed from her work clothes into something she might wear on a date. It was touching. She was so clearly smitten by Harley.

  “Not at all,” Tommie said. “I’m looking forward to showing you Loftus Manor. I can’t believe you’ve never been here before now. Samuel was remiss. And I have to warn you, Harley is quite the accomplished bartender.”

  “I expect Harley is very good at any job he turns his hand to,” Nancy said.

  They were standing at the entrance to the manor, and Tommie grinned at the blush that colored Harley’ cheeks. Nancy sure got to him with her adoration, and it was a joy to watch. Harley’s bashfulness told her a lot about him.

  “Come in, Nancy, and name your poison.”

  “What?” Nancy stepped away from Tommie, shock on her face.

  “Tell us what you’d like to drink,” Harley said. “It’s just a saying because, you know, alcohol is a poison.”

  “Oh, right!” Nancy laughed. “Sometimes I can be naïve.”

  “Nothing wrong with naivete,” Tommie said. “In fact, it’s refreshing.”

  “I’ll mix the drinks while you show Nancy around,” Harley said.

  “Perfect,” Tommie agreed. “Let’s start upstairs.”

  There really wasn’t much to see upstairs except the beautiful décor and the array of antiques that the Loftus family had acquired over the years, but Nancy took her time, exclaiming over a headboard or highboy or the drapery fabric. She took such pleasure in her tour that Tommie couldn’t begrudge her the time. Harley joined them with drinks—lemon water for Tommie—and they sipped and walked as Harley took over the narration about the house. He was far better versed in Loftus history than Tommie, though she was catching on fast.

  “I can see how you got the idea to turn the manor into an inn,” Nancy said. “I would never have thought of such a thing, but actually, it will be perfect. Samuel would talk about the renovations he and Rachel made to the house when they were first married and came here to live. They really modernized the place. That’s when they put in the bathrooms for the bedrooms.” Her face softened with a smile. “Samuel said he was scandalized by the changes, but that Rachel insisted that everything—home or human—had to be renovated to keep up with the times. Those who fought modernization were crushed.” Nancy’s mood suddenly turned melancholy and she blinked back tears. “He really loved his wife. I wish I’d known her.”

  When they were done on the second floor, they started in the main library. Tommie stood with her back to a warm fire as Harley gave some of the historical information about Samuel’s book collection. Again, she was amazed at the breadth of her uncle’s interests. He had a true joy in learning.

  She’d forgotten about the portrait of Rachel in the cloak until Nancy exclaimed, “That’s incredible. Wow. Samuel talked about that painting once or twice. He hated it.”

  “What?” Tommie asked, surprised. “It’s beautiful. Rachel looks like she stepped out of one of Samuel’s stories.”

  “That was the problem,” Nancy said. “The cloak. He was very annoyed with the cloak. It had a dark history and he said it belonged to someone from the past of Loftus Manor.”

  “And why would Rachel wear a cloak that upset Samuel?” Tommie asked.

  “There was a huge costume ball and Rachel had found a photograph and had the cloak copied for her outfit. She meant to please Samuel, is how I heard it. She went to great detail.” She pointed to the buttons on the shoulder. “Samuel said those incredible buttons each held one lost spirit. He said something like the cloak was symbolic of things that had gone wrong at the manor.”

  “Did he think Rachel collected souls or spirits?” Tommie was horrified.

  “No,” Nancy said and then laughed. “But you know how Samuel loved his ghost stories. He hated the idea of trapped spirits, and those buttons really set him off.”

  “The concept of spirits trapped in any stone is disconcerting,” Tommie said.

  At Harley’s gentle urging, Nancy moved along with the tour. “I want to hear all about the renovations,” she said. “Gossip in town is that Hank and Katie said they were starting in the kitchen and dining area.” When she saw the hole in the wall, she rushed toward it. “What is this?”

  “Hank is removing a wall to open more dining space. Katie said it might have once been storage, like a pantry, that was walled over.” Tommie was only glad the bones had been removed. Nancy was a very nice person and had been a kind friend, but a skeleton in the wall would have been too delicious not to repeat.

  “Is this a secret passageway?” Nancy put her head in the hole, trying to see.

  Harley laughed. “You’ve listened to too many of Samuel’s tall tales.”

  “But it looks like a passage. How exciting. This really is like one of Samuel’s stories.” Her eyes teared up. “I miss talking to him. Sometime, if he was having lunch with Nina, I would just sit at their table and listen to him tell about this house and his ancestors. He was very private, you know, but once he started talking about Loftus Manor, he never tired of it. It was difficult to tell what was true and what was made-up.” She laughed softly. “That was the fun of Samuel. He could pull you into a true story or a totally made-up yarn and no one could tell the difference.”

  “He was a fine storyteller,” Harley agreed. He subtly checked his watch.

  “I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Nancy said quickly. “Could I see the room where he died? I know it sounds morbid, but he talked about ‘his little study’ so much. And playing chess with you, Harley. You were a blessing in his life.” Nancy walked back to the hole and sighed. “If it isn’t a passage, it could be a hidey hole. During the Civil War, some landowners would build false walls so they could hide their valuables in case Yankees came to raid them. I’ve heard stories about a lot of treasures like that, hidden and forgotten.” She smiled. “And some of those stories I heard from Samuel. He just loved to get people going. I’m not being morbid, honest. I just want to see the room where he…left us.”

  Tommie was taken aback by Nancy’s request, but she led the way to the small study. She didn’t elaborate, and Nancy stood at the open door, looking in. “I don’t think he committed suicide,” she said. “He wasn’t the type.”

  “What do you think happened?” Harley asked.

  “I think someone killed him because of the stories about hidden treasures. Robbery gone wrong.” She sighed. “I hope you catch the person who did this.” She put a hand over her mouth. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to say anything that might upset you.”

  “It’s not upsetting,” Tommie assured her. “And it’s not the first time we’ve heard that sentiment.”

  “Did you happen to see the original coroner’s report on Samuel?” Harley asked.

  “No. I’m sure it’s in his file, but I never saw it. My boss is picky about the forms and things. Was something wrong?”

  “No,” Harley said quickly. “It’s just hard to believe it was ruled suicide. I agree with you. Samuel wasn’t the type, nor did he seem to have a reason.”

  “Are you searching for his killer?” Nancy was wide-eyed.

&nb
sp; “Hardly that,” Tommie said, brushing the topic aside. “I don’t need the stigma of a murder attached to Loftus Manor if I’m going to have an inn here. It’s over and done. Best to let sleeping dogs lie, as the saying goes.” Her gaze connected with Harley and he nodded. They didn’t need to start any rumors, and as nice as Nancy was, the desire to gossip was part of human nature.

  “We’re focusing on the renovations and getting the inn open by Christmas,” Tommie said. “That’s ambitious enough.”

  “Thank you for the tour and the drink. Both of you. I should leave. It’s getting late and the road here is tricky, as I’m sure you’ve discovered.”

  “I hate to ask, Nancy, but have you heard anything more from your friend who works for Paul Rider? About what he may be up to? And doesn’t he drive a big dark SUV?

  Nancy frowned. “I can’t remember his vehicle, but I haven’t talked to my friend. Not really. But I’ll keep an ear out. I can call her—”

  “No, please don’t bother.” Tommie put a hand on Nancy’s shoulder. “Thank you for the offer.”

  Nancy’s smile was wide and radiant. “I’m just so excited that Loftus Manor is going to become the show place of Wetumpka. If you have parties here, maybe I’ll be invited.”

  “Of course,” Tommie assured her.

  “That’s so exciting.” She put a hand on Tommie’s arm. “I know Samuel loved the manor, but by turning it into an inn, everyone in town can enjoy the beauty of the place. Now I really must go.”

  They walked her to the door and as Tommie watched her taillights head down the long, dark driveway, Harley put his arm around her shoulders.

  “You good?” he asked.

  “Tonight, I’m better than good.”

  “Really?” He pulled her closer and tipped her face up to his. “Why?”

  “Because I have you in my life.” The words were easier to say than she’d ever anticipated. With Harley, admitting how she felt came naturally. “Let’s go inside.”