A Stranger in Wynnedower (16 page)

The distracted look
left his gaze. He met her eyes. She had his full attention, and it almost
scared her.

“I’m leaving now.”

She stepped back and
nodded. “Have a safe trip.”

“Don’t lose Amanda’s
number. Call her if there’s a problem and she’ll get me. Don’t take any
chances, and don’t hesitate to call the police. I don’t want anyone to be at
risk.”

****

So, where did this
leave her? Was she now the de facto caretaker? She had to laugh. He’d said,
“Call the police if you think it’s needed.” He wanted her here for her good
judgment? He was delusional.

The dust raised by the
tires of Jack’s car hung in the air as he drove through the gates and down the
dirt road.

The responsibility was
now hers. And her new housemates who’d yet to arrive. She made sure the front
door was locked, likewise the conservatory door, then went up to the attic.

After a couple of hours
amid the furniture, Rachel snagged the old bedspread from Jeremy’s room and
arranged it in a shady area of the garden. Having Wynnedower as her playground
was the most fun she’d had in a long time. Maybe ever. It was her canvas on
which to dabble. Unfortunately, when she left she wouldn’t be able to take her
project with her, so she’d make the most of it now.

She sat cross-legged
with the notebook on her knees and considered the view.

Rachel sketched in the
two wings—the dining room and Jack’s wing—then filled in the garden area
between, roughly drawing in the walkways, the planting beds, and the arbor and
cement bench. She closed her eyes. In her head she could clearly see how the
garden filled the area then fanned out with a slight curving slope. The bench
and the arbor were like a demarcation line. The view through the arbor was open
and rolling until it hit the forest.

Eyes open again, she
stared at the reality. The original layout was still suggested by the remaining
bricks and a few scraggly bits of surviving nature. The flower beds along the
center path led directly to the arbor. The side paths should be re-shaped into
semi-circles wrapping around to meet at the arbor, and along those the plants
should be graduated to mid-size then larger plantings. Rachel chewed on the
pencil. Those plantings couldn’t be too large because the windows shouldn’t be
blocked.

What had she read on
that pamphlet while working an inventory at a home improvement store? Mix
texture, color and seasonality? Yes, that was it. The cover had had an
eye-catching picture of chrysanthemums and snapdragons.

To her list, she added:
Check with nursery about plantings to stagger blooms and color.

“Hey.”

She jumped. Her pencil
scored a deep line across the page. She released the notebook to save her
tipping iced tea glass. Other, larger hands joined hers to save it.

A tall young man.
Fresh-faced. The young man who’d come with Mike to fix her car.

“Got it. Sorry I
startled you. I wasn’t all that quiet, but you were concentrating. Meditating
or something. Is that what you were doing?”

 “You’re Brendan.”

“That’s me.” He
gestured at the blanket. “Mind?”

“Please have a seat.”
If eyes were a good indication of personality, then Brendan was laid back and
good-natured. His hair was a dishwater blond color, but in a kind of shaggy cut
that gave it life. He wore a t-shirt and jeans, both of which appeared to be
clean. She liked the way he kept his dusty boots off the blanket as he dropped
his backpack onto the bricks and joined her.

He stared up at the
leaves overhead and then around at the brown, neglected garden. “Nice way to
pass a hot morning.”

“Not morning. It’s
nearly noon.” She waved the notebook slowly sending a bit of cooling breeze
across her face. “How’d you end up house-sitting for Jack?”

“Need money.”

“Unemployed?”

“I work for my brother.
There’s not much out here.”

“Including
my
brother. Not out here, I mean.”

“Is he still missing?”

“Not really missing
now. He called. I have questions, but he sounds okay.”

“A big relief for you.”

She nodded. “Some
relief, more worries. I raised him. A kid taking care of a kid.”

He leaned back on the
blanket, propped up on his elbow. “Parents?”

“Dead. We lived with an
aunt, but she was a little eccentric. The real life stuff fell to me.”

“Not much fun for you.”

Not much fun was right
and no need to relive it. She channeled the conversation in a different
direction. “Do you have a good relationship with your brother?”

“Brothers. Plural.”
He’d picked up her pencil and was flipping it in his fingers. “Yeah, once we
got past the beat-down phase, they were okay.”

Rachel laughed. The way
he said ‘beat-down phase’ made it sound almost nostalgic. “You seem
well-adjusted, so maybe it was also a productive phase.”

He pointed at the paper
with its rough diagram of the garden. “So, what’s this? Mike said you were
doing inventory for Wynne. Are you a gardener, too?”

“Oh, I’m interested in
lots of things. I’m having fun putting some of my interests into practice.” A
side-step answer, but not untrue.

He tilted his head and
squinted at her. “Are you looking for a job? Here, maybe?”

“Here? Do you mean here
as ‘in town’ or ‘here’ here?”

“Either.”

“Not at Wynnedower. My
stay here is temporary. Maybe in Richmond. I’m an inventory specialist. Most of
my jobs are short-term.”

“An inventory
specialist. Like the people with those little machines you see in stores taking
readings shelf by shelf?”

“No. Well, yes, but
that’s not me. My assignments are usually more complicated. I’m good at what I
do, but I’m always open to other possibilities. You should keep that in mind
when you find a job. Always be flexible and have a strong work ethic.”

Brendan saluted. “Yes,
ma’am.” He dropped his hand and shook his head. “I know one thing, if I was
taking time off, I’d find a better spot to spend it in than this place.”

In one fluid motion, he
came up off the blanket and onto his feet. “Well, I’ll go in and see what’s
what.”

“I don’t know where
Jack left the keys to his rooms. I didn’t think to ask him.”

“No problem. I’ll get
them from May.”

“She isn’t here yet.”

“Sure she is. She looked
out at us a while ago.”

“Really?” She stared
back at the house.

Brendan waved as he
left.

She labeled the
sketched-in boxes with ideas for plantings. She was always surprised to
discover how much she recalled from her reading. For good or ill, she was no
better than a sponge, absorbing everything around her.

A few leaves fluttered
past on a slight breath of wind. It was a welcome breeze. Extra movement caught
her attention. She turned toward the arbor gate. From behind the thicker
vegetation, a hand waved. A face followed. He signaled for her to come to him.

Kilmer. David. Pest.
Seeing him put the galling taste of guilt in her mouth.

She would’ve preferred
that he simply never came back. She set her notebook aside, discreetly eyeing
the house, hoping no one was watching.

A bush tugged at her
shirt, and leaves brushed her face as she walked through the gate. When she
reached him, she said rudely, “What now?”

“I’m sorry to bother
you. I didn’t realize it would be such an imposition.”

She shook her head. “I
can’t help you.”

“I asked you to tell me
if you heard or saw anything that might relate to Helene, that’s all. Now
you’re resenting me.” His hands were half in his pockets, his shoulders
slumped.

“I resent the position
you’ve put me in. I’m his guest.”

“You aren’t doing anything
wrong.”

“You’re right, I’m not.
And I’m not going to.”

“You came here because
of your brother. This opportunity for me came up because you’re here and you’re
a caring person. If Jack’s not hiding anything, then he has nothing to worry
about. He doesn’t know we’ve spoken or that I’m in the area. What he doesn’t
know won’t hurt him and could mean everything to Helene.”

“Then why does my
conscience feel so jagged?”

“I don’t know. Rachel,”
he sighed deeply. “I don’t want to put you or anyone else in an uncomfortable
position for my happiness. It’s only Helene’s safety and wellbeing that drives
me to ask.” He faced her. “Never mind me. If you hear anything that indicates
Helene is in danger, let the authorities know. Please.”

No matter which way she
struggled, doubt held her fast. Kilmer was a pest, but he might not be a nut.
What if a woman’s safety was at risk?

In frustration, she
said, “What do you think has happened to her? How could he imprison her without
someone noticing? That’s what you’re suggesting, right?”

Bright red brushed his
cheeks. “I love Helene. Our families were so different; we were so different.
It would’ve been a miracle if we’d made a success of being together, but the
heart wants what the heart wants.” He stared at his clenched hands.

“You already told me
that, and you told me that Jack paid you to leave her.”

His chest rose and fell
rapidly. Rachel wanted to avoid another emotional scene. She felt no sympathy
for him. Maybe there was more wrong with her than with him, but she didn’t like
him.

“I couldn’t give her
the life she deserved. I told you she is ethereal. Vulnerable. For the last few
years, Helene has been living in a sort of home, like assisted living for
well-to-do adults. Like a condo with privacy, security and servants. People
kept me informed. I was content knowing she was safe and happy. But then,
shortly before Jack returned here, she left that place or was removed. No one
knows. The home would only say that she’d left.”

“Did you ask Jack?”

“Jack doesn’t like
anyone to interfere in his relationship with Helene.”

“Maybe he’s following
her wishes. Maybe she wants seclusion.”

He slapped his hands
together. “You’re under his spell.”

“Nonsense.”

“You’ve seen it,
haven’t you? The mood swings? From menacing to jubilant, then down again?”

Rachel drew back.
“Menacing? No. Taciturn and rude? Yes.”

“He has charisma.
You’re not the first woman drawn to him, drawn to danger.”

“Danger?” She nearly
laughed in his face.

“Remember this when you
see Jack coming and going and planning big events and wondering why he doesn’t
sell this place and move to the city—remember their father left Wynnedower and
the family fortune to them, together. She and Jack are joint owners of
Wynnedower. Since he hasn’t sold it yet, that tells me Helene is resisting him.
If something happens to Helene, then it’s all Jack’s.”

“Fortune? What a joke.
The place is falling apart.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me
if he torches it for the insurance, then he’s free to sell the land to a
developer.” He lowered his voice. “When it comes to his financial state, you
only know what he tells you.”

Suddenly, David was
close, his face so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. He added, “I
don’t want Helene trapped in that house at his mercy.”

“You said that before.
You said he might burn the house down. If you truly believe it, then go to the
authorities. If not—if this is some sort of self-serving drama you’re indulging
in—then you’d better stop now.”

She left him abruptly,
but could she ignore the possibility of someone in danger?

All her life, she’d
been the responsible person. For everyone and everything, and both a
beneficiary and a victim of her imagination and curiosity. Why didn’t those
things come with an off-switch?

She entered the house
through the flower room door as May turned the corner with a covered tray. May
had turned right, heading toward the stairs at the eastern end.

If she chose to dine
alone and in the privacy of her room, it was none of Rachel’s business. In
fact, she would welcome not sharing a table with Madame Sellers.

The aroma of chicken
cacciatore unwound through the corridor like a ribbon of flavor. Rachel could
have followed with her eyes closed, although she kept them open, of course, as
she walked, and found herself standing in front of the old nursery and
governess suite—one of the areas Jack had instructed her to ignore.

She stood quietly
outside the closed door.

It was a puzzle.

May cooked for Jack
when he was in residence. Now, Jack was gone for a few days, and May had moved
in. Why? For Rachel’s comfort? No.

Exactly what sort of
protection did May’s presence offer? A chaperone for her and Brendan? Not
likely.