Bodies & Buried Secrets: A Rosewood Place Mystery (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 1) (9 page)

Emmett explained his previous opinion. “I said I thought it wasn’t safe, but that doesn’t mean I’m running you out of your house. I’m just concerned about the fact that there is a killer on the loose who has already killed one woman inside your home.”

“I’ll lock the doors.” Annie was well-aware that the police officers felt she’d been foolish for having left her door unlocked on the night Suzy was killed. “I’ll get a guard dog or a gun,” she added, trying to convince the Chief as well as herself that she could make the farmhouse secure against whatever murderous fiend lurked out there.

“How about you start with locking those doors? Oh, and I almost forgot, do you know why Suzy would have a map of your place in her purse?” Emmett’s question caught Annie completely off-guard.

“No, I don’t. Was it a surveyor’s map, or something like it?”

“No, it was an old map, or a copy of one. It had a date, 1826, scribbled up in one corner. Looks like something you’d find in a local history museum. It’s odd, huh?”

Annie agreed. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“You want to know what’s even stranger?” he asked, and Annie could hear him shuffling papers around on the other end of the line. “How odd is it that we found an exact duplicate of that map in her dead uncle’s pocket? A bit of a coincidence there, don’t you think?”

Annie was silent for a moment. When she spoke, she was afraid that the Chief of Police might think she was crazy, but the question was on her lips before she could stop herself. “Do you think she was looking for buried treasure?”

Emmett didn’t laugh at Annie’s question. In fact, he seemed relieved that she’d asked it. “You think this is some sort of treasure map? I told the boys here at the office that this is exactly what it looks like, but I can’t make heads or tails of some of the things on here. It looks like it might be copied from an original, but who knows where that could be.”

Annie clarified, “I don’t know whether that’s a treasure map or just some old drawing of the property, but everybody seems to be throwing the suggestion of buried treasure around, so I thought I’d better ask.” She explained her son’s theory and told Emmett that she didn’t know enough about the house’s history to know whether it was true or not, but knowing Devon, he’d find out as much as he could about the plantation’s history.

Emmett listened with great interest, then surprised her with a suggestion. “I’ll tell you what, let me drop by your place a little later today. I’ll bring a copy of the map, er, maps,” he corrected himself, “and you can show me around the place. I’m sure it’s changed a lot since I was a kid. I heard the last folks that lived there installed a little dock out over the pond. Sounds perfect for fishing,” he added hopefully.

Annie hadn’t noticed a dock at the pond when she’d taken a walk up to look at it, but it was pretty snaky and overgrown, so there could be one. “Okay, Chief Barnes, that will be fine.”

“I’ll see you around two o’clock if that’s alright.” It was, and they ended the conversation there. Annie felt a little tug of nerves as she thought of the fact that the house was still in a huge state of disarray, but she knew that the knowledge of an impending visitor would shake Bessie into action. Her mother loved to entertain, and if she knew the Chief of Police himself was coming by for a visit, Annie was certain that Bessie would roll out the red carpet.

Bessie wandered back into the kitchen after having showered and dressed for a trip to the grocery store. Annie suppressed a chuckle when she noticed her mother had actually put on pearls and what looked like a new silk blouse for the trip. In Annie’s opinion, Bessie would probably be the finest-dressed customer in the run down Savers’ Market, but it obviously made her mother feel good to look her best when she was running these errands, so Annie saw no harm in it.

“I made a list,” the elderly woman declared, “so I won’t be out for too long.” She grinned, put her hand on Annie’s arm and confided, “I thought I might take Devon out for a Happy Meal afterwards if he’d like.”

Annie couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Mother, he’s sixteen. He can eat three quarter pound hamburgers in one sitting. I think you might want to reconsider the kids’ meal.”

Bessie brushed her off. “I’ll get him whatever he wants from the fast food place, but first, he’s going to show me how to use the internets at the library.”

“What on earth do you need the internet for?” Annie couldn’t imagine her mother Googling anything, even a recipe.
Especially
a recipe. “We’ll have our computer set up in a couple of days, you know, and then I can show you how to use that tablet computer I bought for you last Christmas.”

“We’re going to do some reconnaissance work, darling. Devon’s going to help me find out the history of this old house, who owned it first. Besides,” she added coyly, “there are several women at the library who just don’t believe that I have such a handsome grandson. I want to show him off as much as possible, you know.”

Annie just shook her head. There simply was no telling Bessie Purdy to wait for anything. Once her mother got an idea into her head, she gnawed away at it like a dog with a bone until she was satisfied with the results.

A few minutes later, Annie waved her son and mother off from the front porch, where Rory was already hammering away. As the light blue Ford Fiesta pulled out of the driveway, Annie shook her head. “That woman.”

Rory grinned. “Yep.” He placed another board and began hammering it into place. Annie glanced at the rest of the wooden porch that wrapped around the front of her house and saw that Rory had already repaired or replaced almost a third of the boards on the veranda.

“Holy cow! You must have started early, but I didn’t even hear you!” Annie looked puzzled, and Rory pointed to a power tool propped up against the bottom step.

“I used my nail gun ‘til the battery ran out. It’s charging up now, though, so I should be able to get this done or mostly done today. I know how much your mama likes sitting out here, and I wouldn’t be too happy with myself if I left this porch in such a hazardous state.” He wiped his brow with a red handkerchief. He could see that she was about to say something else, so he stopped her. “I haven’t forgotten about the attic. I just thought it would be easier to get in there after everyone was up and attem.”

Annie blushed. She guessed that he must think of her as some bossy woman who’d come out to demand that he jump on the next job she had in mind. It bothered her that he might think that, though she couldn’t say why it did. “Actually, I just wanted to let you know that the Chief of Police will be stopping by this afternoon.” She waited to see how Rory would respond, but he just looked at her blankly.

“Why? Did you find another body?” He smirked when he saw her cheeks redden. “Sorry, that was probably in bad taste.”

She ignored his remark. “I just wanted to let you know he was coming. I wasn’t sure how great your relationship is with the local law enforcement since, well, you know--”

Rory’s jaw clenched. “You mean since I spent time in prison for nearly killing a man?” His eyes went dark. “No, I’m not exactly buddies with the local law enforcement, if that’s what you’re asking.” He struggled to get his anger in check, and Annie could tell that he didn’t feel comfortable with the conversation.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to keep bringing up your past, but we have to be realistic. Somebody was killed violently right here while we slept. You have a criminal record, and we have no murder weapon, no other suspects, and no real reason for Suzy to have been here. I know that you didn’t lay a finger on her,” Annie clarified, reminding herself that deep down she knew he wasn’t capable of such a thing, “but the police may give you a hard time. I saw it all the time in New York, cops hassling the usual suspects every time something bad happened. I just don’t want you to be put on the spot when the Chief stops by.”

Rory looked at her for a long moment, trying to decide whether she actually meant what she’d said. Finally, he nodded. “I don’t have a problem with Chief Barnes. In fact, I don’t have a problem with any of those cops. I
had
a problem with getting drunk and getting into fights with my ex’s lovers, but that’s in the past. Now I’m sober, single, and ready to slap down some more boards on your veranda if you don’t mind.” He pushed Annie aside gently, and laid the next plank of wood on the floor behind her, and she knew that the conversation was essentially over.

Annie pottered about the place for the next hour or so, making notes about paint colors for various rooms, checking the condition of the flooring, and trying to decide how much furniture she’d need to buy to make the place feel homely and welcoming. She wanted desperately to unpack everything, but her mother had reminded her that very morning that it would be easier to unpack after the rooms had all been painted. Annie was surprised to find that it was past eleven by the time she checked her watch. She hated to interrupt Rory when he was hard at work, but she really did want to look into the attic before her mother and Devon came back from their adventures in town.

She peered through the tattered net curtain that hung on the front door, a remnant from the home’s former occupants that she hadn’t bothered to take down. Rory wasn’t on the veranda, but she could still hear him hammering, so she followed the noise to the kitchen and found him standing in the doorway that led outside. He was hammering a support bracket into place, securing the small roof overhang that protected the back door. Annie hadn’t even noticed that it was crooked, but she could see clearly the improvement Rory made when he repositioned it and secured it in place.

“That looks great. I guess we’ll stay dry out there if it rains,” she added lamely. “Would you like something cold to drink?” The temperature outside had begun to creep up. It was meant to be in the mid to upper seventies by the afternoon, and Rory was already glistening from the exertion he’d put in on the veranda.

“I’d love one,” he replied, flexing his shoulder. “I think it’s time I took a break from all this hammering, maybe we’ll go take a look at your attic after we get a drink.”

Annie nodded, then headed for the fridge. “Would you like a soft drink or a glass of iced tea?” She looked into the nearly-bare refrigerator. “Or maybe I could make some lemonade. We’ve only got that powdered stuff, though.”

“Water’s fine,” Rory explained. “Actually, ice water would be heavenly.” He waited while she filled a glass with ice and ran water from the refrigerator’s dispenser, then he accepted the drink and gulped it down. “Ahh, that was perfect,” he sighed, setting the glass carefully on the counter. Annie couldn’t help but notice how rough and calloused his hands were. And strong. They were big, muscled hands that were perfect for swinging a hammer, or a punch.

He caught her staring at the scrapes and lines on his hands, and he wiped them on the front of his shirt. “Carpenter’s hands,” he shrugged, but he seemed somewhat uncomfortable with Annie’s gaze.

“Let’s go see what you’ve got hiding up in your attic,” he suggested. “Let me grab my crowbar in case we need it to get that door open.”

Annie didn’t wait for him, but instead she found herself practically running up the stairs, as excited as a child on Christmas morning. Secretly, Annie hoped that the attic held a trove of untold wonders, a snapshot of times gone by that might give her an idea of what the house looked like in its heyday. Her practical self reminded her that it was probably full of junk that the previous owners couldn’t be bothered to take with them, but her imagination told her that surely there was something mysterious and exciting in the dusty upper room.

She felt a little sad that she’d promised Devon the attic for his own room. Annie would have loved to have her own private quarters away from the hustle and bustle of her family and the future guests at the farmhouse. But she’d needed some leverage to induce Devon to really get excited about the move, and the attic seemed to be just the thing at the time. She wouldn’t begrudge her son his own special space, especially after the difficult past few months.

She reached the door to the attic and couldn’t resist giving the doorknob a good tug. The old brass knob twisted in her hand, but the heavy wooden door itself didn’t budge. She tried pushing her weight against it, although she wasn’t a very heavy woman, she did think her weight might just nudge the door loose, but it didn’t. She didn’t hear Rory come up the stairs. Unlike Annie, he seemed to move like a cat, and he was behind her before she knew it.

“Here, let me try,” he breathed into her ear, and she jumped out of her skin.

“Oh, god, Rory! You scared the crap out of me!” Her heart pounded in her chest, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I was just trying to see if I could loosen it.”

He put his own shoulder against the door, pushed once, then playfully smacked his own forehead. “Awww, shoot, this door doesn’t open inward,” he jibed, a smirk playing around the edge of his lips.

Annie’s face flushed even more. She decided that if he said anything about it, she’d blame it on the heat and lack of air conditioning. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with her embarrassment or the fact that Rory looked amazing in his plain white tee and snug-fitting blue jeans.

Clearing his throat, Rory set his face in a serious expression. “I don’t want to damage the door or the frame if I can help it. This looks old, maybe even old enough to be from the original house. It would be hard to find a replacement that has as much character.”

Annie nodded. The warm mahogany wood was notched and marked with age, but it had a patina that many of the other doors in the house didn’t have. It almost seemed to dare them to enter, like it should have been the front door of the house instead of the one that now hung downstairs.

“A lot of the wood used to build these old houses came directly from ships they decommissioned over in Charleston,” Rory explained. “This may have even been part of a pirated ship, you just never know.”

Annie wondered if he was teasing her or if he was telling the truth. She decided that she didn’t care: she’d choose to believe that her attic door really did come right off of Blackbeard’s very own ship if she wanted to.

He felt around the edges of the frame, testing it gently in spots with the edge of his crowbar. It seemed to stick mostly towards the bottom of the door, and the floor seemed slightly bowed beneath it.

“Looks like you may have had a leak or some sort of moisture problem in the floor here,” Rory explained. “This wood could have gotten wet and swelled up, now the door’s too close to the floor. I can plane the edge of the door and it should take care of the problem,” he continued, sliding the crowbar under the edge of the wooden door. Despite creaks and protests from the wood, he gently pried the door open, and they were greeted by the scent of dust and mildew for his efforts.

“Voila,” he said dramatically, taking a small bow.

Annie’s heart raced as she peered into the darkness. “Do you think there’s a lightswitch?”

Rory squinted his own eyes at the thick darkness. “I don’t know. Maybe, but we probably ought to take some flashlights, just in case.”

Annie hadn’t thought of that. “Shoot, I don’t know what I did with mine,” she confessed. “Do you have one?”

He nodded. “In my truck. You want to go in and see if we can find a light switch first, or wait for the flashlights?”

Annie’s vivid imagination reminded her of all the creepy crawly things and creatures that liked to go BUMP in the dark, like boogeymen, ghosts, and vicious vampires. “Let’s go get the flashlights. Might be spiders up there, you know.”

They headed back down the hallway towards the stairs when Rory stopped suddenly. He grabbed Annie and quickly made a
shushing
gesture. “Did you hear that?” he whispered urgently.

Annie strained her ears, but couldn’t hear anything. She was about to tell him as much when she heard the distinct crash of a glass hitting the floor in the kitchen. “Maybe it’s my mother,” she whispered, wondering why she didn’t actually believe her own suggestion.

They crept forward, Rory leading, carrying his crowbar like a weapon. Annie followed, anxious to see what or who was in her house. When it became clear that the person in the kitchen wasn’t leaving, Annie stopped trying to be quiet. She pushed ahead of Rory, taking the stairs two at a time, and spun round the corner into the kitchen, where she came face to face with a rather well-dressed man holding her dustpan.

“Oh, hello,” he offered weakly. “Is it too late to say I’m sorry?”

Annie was momentarily stunned by the polite stranger’s question, but Rory wasn’t. He came tearing into the kitchen behind Annie, crowbar raised and a look on his face that could frighten even the bravest soul. “Who are you?” he growled, putting himself between Annie and the stranger.

The man carefully lowered the dustpan onto the floor and sat it down. He then raised his hands above his head, and Annie noticed the glint of metal on his wrist. He was wearing a very nice aviator watch, not unlike the one that had been found on the dead body in her barn. He was also wearing a very nice suit and silk tie, which seemed incongruous with the casual charm of the watch.

“My name is Daniel Tremaine, and I’m very sorry to have surprised you like this, but your door was standing wide open, so I came in and called out. I didn’t get a response, so I was going to leave you a note, but I’m afraid my clumsy self knocked your glass over and it smashed. Again, I’m so very sorry--”

“What do you want?” Rory didn’t relax at the man’s explanation, but Annie put a hand on his arm and he at least lowered the crowbar. Although the strange man in her kitchen looked harmless enough, Annie was surprised to find herself feeling relieved that Rory had brought the crowbar. After all, if someone had been bold enough to walk into her house and murder Suzy Anderson in the middle of the night, Annie realized that there was nothing stopping them from coming back in broad daylight to finish whatever job they’d started with Suzy.

“Mr. Tremaine, I’m Annie Richards, the owner of this house.”

He smiled politely. “Yes, I know who you are. I believe you are the last person to ever see my fiancée alive,” he added. “May I sit down and have a talk with you?”

Annie had no answer for him, and the look on Rory’s face told her that he was just as confused. “I’m sorry, but who is your fiancée?”

Dan cleared his throat and tensed his lips as if to stifle tears. “Suzy Anderson. She is--was--my fiancée. Could you please tell me anything about how she ended up dead on your kitchen floor?”