A Stranger in Wynnedower (9 page)

After a morning of
testing keys and affixing orange, red, blues and green tags, she took her
notebook and pencil up to the second floor and entered the stairwell area at
the far end. The heat hit her. She returned downstairs, happy to change her
mind. She wasn’t in the mood to work up a sweat while she was still reasonably
well-groomed. Where was Jack? Not returned yet?

As she passed the
dining room doors, Rachel slowed. The hallway with its wall of windows, blind
and void at night, changed with the daylight to bright and shining, a stunning
interplay of the sparkling glass panes and shadowed patterns cast by the window
inserts. The dark shadow lines ran from the ceiling, down the wall, and spread
across the floor. Like some crazy kind of art work. Like an invitation. She
exited into the garden.

The dining room
extension was to her left. The dining room windows faced this way, but their
elevation was well above the level of the garden and a lot of scraggly bushes
and weeds occupied the area between the dining room and where she stood. It
impossible to make out what was inside.

Never mind. She turned
to stare at the wasted garden.

Standing there, seeing
without really focusing and letting the garden speak to her, she understood how
the bricked paths had run, how the dry fountain, now overwhelmed by grasping vines,
had anchored the layout, and how the spindly, neglected vegetation had bloomed
in decades past.

Eyes half-closed,
Rachel let the garden form in her mind. It came together in vivid colors and
charming scents of Jasmine and sweet roses. After a few minutes, she had a
pretty good idea of how this had looked once upon a time. Her fingers itched to
dig in the earth.

Virtual earth? What did
she know about gardening? She’d never owned a square foot of ground.

Okay, so she knew
nothing in practical terms, but she’d thumbed through enough landscaping and
horticultural books over the years to give herself a jumpstart.

The smells changed. The
energy thickened. Her eyes popped open. She saw blonde hair and faded blue eyes
framed by crow’s feet.

She stammered, “Who are
you? What are you doing here?”

The man said, “I’m
sorry I disturbed your concentration? I wanted to speak with you about your
brother.”

He had her attention.
“My brother?”

“You’re Jeremy’s
sister, right?”

“You know Jeremy?”
Curiosity warred with caution. Where had this man come from? He was older than
Jeremy. A little older than she. Maybe Jack’s age. Rachel glanced back at the
house and the dining room.

“Don’t worry. He drove
away a while ago.”

That was creepy. She
took a long look at his crisply ironed shirt and highly polished shoes, and was
reassured.

“Did he? What do you
know about my brother?”

“We were, are, friends.
Not close friends, but we spoke often. I haven’t seen him in a while. I was
concerned.”

When she looked at this
odd man, she couldn’t see him as a friend of Jeremy’s. “I haven’t heard from
Jeremy. I’m worried.”

“I was, too. I spoke to
one of his co-workers, away from the office, you know? Jeremy was seeing a
young lady. His co-worker suggested they might have eloped.”

“What? A young…eloped?”
She shook her head. “That’s nonsense.”

He placed one hand on
his chest. “An affair of the heart, you know? I was afraid his disappearance
might have been the result of a favor I’d asked him to do for me, so I was
relieved.”

Annoyance wrapped
itself around her. “What did you ask him to do? Did you introduce him to the
girl?”

His eyes opened wide and
he took a step back. “No, sorry, I wasn’t clear. I meant that I was worried
he’d gotten into hot water over a favor I asked of him. When dealing with Jack
Wynne, you never know what will touch off his temper.”

Temper? Yes, Jack had a
hot one. Was this man suggesting it was a dangerous temper? “Go ahead.”

“Have you ever been in
love? The heart and soul kind?” He stared down at the bricks. “Do I sound
corny?”

“Yes.” Rachel frowned.
“What does that have to do with Jack? Or are you talking now about Jeremy and
what his co-worker said?”

“No, this is about me
and a big mistake I made a long time ago.”

His hair was disordered
from where he’d dragged his fingers through it. He did it again. Almost
engaging. Boyish and sympathetic, except for the crow’s feet.

She crossed her arms.
“That’s how everyone sounds when they describe falling in love. Really, how
many different ways are there? Boy meets girl. Girl meets boy. And so on.”

“You make love sound
optional. It wasn’t. It isn’t, even years later. I’m David Kilmer.”

He extended his hand
and, after a pause, she accepted.

“Rachel Sevier.”

“I’m very pleased to
meet you.”

He walked alongside as
they passed the old rose bushes and approached the wild arbor until he stopped
suddenly, moving in front of her and blocking the path. His voice sounded
hungry. His words were spoken in breathless rhythm.

“Let me tell you how I
fell for the love of my life, Helene. Fell hard. I saw her on a street in
London. Early spring, damp and misty, and it suited her. Mermaid-like. As
delicate as the dew on a rose. As if the very tears of heaven couldn’t resist
touching her, sharing some space, or a moment of time with her.”

Who was this guy? A
stranger baring his heart? A lunatic? She looked around again thinking this would
be a good time for someone sane and boring to come along.

A rangy Abelia snagged
the hem of her shorts. She detached the thin branch. “Overgrown. I wonder how
much of this can be salvaged?” She paused, wanting not to ask but unable to
stop herself. “Did you speak with her that day? Was it the same for her? Love
at first sight?” She ran her hands lightly through the long, twiggy branches.

He moved away, pausing
near a chipped and stained concrete bench. He sank down upon it and leaned
forward, both hands clasping his knees. “I thought I’d gone to heaven. At the
very least, that I was dreaming. I approached her and she spoke. Oh, it was
innocent. But it was also fate.”

He held out one hand to
her. He was a stranger, but a friend of Jeremy’s. Almost mesmerized by his
strange behavior and poetic tale, Rachel accepted his hand, and he tugged her
down beside him onto the bench. His breath was rough, excited.

“She was timid with
everyone else, but together we were special. She warned me about Jack, but I
already knew. She said, ‘he won’t like this.’ I was prepared to take on
anything, anyone, for her.” He pressed his hands to his eyes. “I failed her. I
failed us both. I’ll never forgive myself, but if I could know she was well and
happy, not under the thumb of that monster, then I could move on.”

Stunned, she repeated,
“A monster?”

“Jack Wynne.”

Rude, yes. But a
monster? “What business was it of Jack’s?”

He whispered, “He’s her
brother.”

“He hasn’t mentioned a
sister.”

“I asked Jeremy to help
me find Helene. Or, rather, not find her, but to find out where she is and how
she is, so that I’ll know she’s okay. Up until a few months ago, she was in a
safe place.

The man stared toward
the sky at an overarching branch whose leaves rustled in the breeze. “Helene is
different. Very delicate. But then one day I discovered she’d left where she
was living with no forwarding address. She wouldn’t have done that on her own.
Jack would have been involved. Why didn’t she surface anywhere? Jack showed up
here, but where’s Helene? You see why I’m worried.”

“No, I don’t see. How
could Jeremy help you with that anyway?”

“By looking around.
Listening. Asking a few questions. Whether Jack was here or off traveling,
Jeremy was my best chance of finding out what Jack was up to.”

“Jeremy spied for you?
How can that be? He wasn’t here while Jack was.”

“Don’t you see? It was
perfect. Jack was out of town, but when he returned, Jeremy would still have
access whenever Jack left the house. He could enter Jack’s quarters without
fear. Could have, if he hadn’t gone away.”

Rachel cringed. Would
Jeremy have agreed to do that? No, she didn’t believe it.

“No, I still don’t see.
You, Jack, his sister, wherever she is, you’re all adults. Why can’t you manage
your business without involving my brother?”

His words came out on
separate breaths, ragged. “Would you help me?”

As if he was deaf to
her words.

This was too much
emotionalism and illogic. She reclaimed her hand and turned away. The dining
room and Jack’s quarters flanked both sides of the garden. Before them was the
window arcade. Windows, windows, everywhere, and Rachel didn’t want to be seen
sitting here on the concrete bench consoling David Kilmer.

“I don’t blame you for
despising me, and I don’t deserve another chance at love. I took money and
abandoned her. And left my heart behind, too. I’m a loser and I always will be
without Helene. I’m not someone to depend on, not even for someone I love.”

He took money. But it
wasn’t her business and it was long ago, anyway. “Don’t be so dramatic.” She
tried to soften her tone. “Everyone makes mistakes. You were young and
foolish.” No longer so young, but foolish was a hazard for all ages.

“And afraid. Jack would
have never let us find happiness. It seemed the best choice all around—get out
of her life and give her a chance at a new love and life.”

First he was a bum, and
now he was selfless? She was repulsed. “I should get back inside.” She stood
and he grabbed the hem of her shorts.

“But you’ll try,
please? Don’t do anything that could put you in danger, but if you can find any
evidence…no, I don’t mean you should spy. But if you hear or see anything I
promise I’ll go away quietly as soon as I know she’s safe and well.”

Discomfort at his
groveling, guilt because she was more concerned with her discomfort than with
his pain, embarrassment because she knew she wasn’t above giving into curiosity
and snooping. It was a lose-lose situation for her. Guilt won out.

“If something comes up,
perhaps I can help.”

“Promise you’ll tell
me?”

“You should go now.” Not
a promise. She clasped her hands, her fingers entwined.

He nodded, his color
heightened and his eyes wet. “I’m not sorry I told you. I don’t mind
humiliating myself if that’s what it takes to make sure she’s safe.”

He walked past the
arbor and directly across the back lawn, roughly parallel to the house, and toward
the woods.

Going where?

Rachel was touched and
appalled at the same time. Disturbed, too, because she couldn’t embrace his
open emotion. Maybe if she’d ever been in love she would understand better.

Wait. This guy was a
stranger and she was concerned that she hadn’t been sympathetic enough?

She wished she’d asked
the name of the co-worker.

Jeremy in love? More
likely a crush. Could it be an elopement?

She put her face in her
hands. This was worry all over again, but of a different kind. He might be
okay, but he might also be about to ruin his life. Might have already done so.

Where was he?

Gloomy, she wandered
back into the house and tried to work up enthusiasm for trying keys and making
notes about renovation. She ended up leaving by way of the French doors that
opened into the conservatory, and from there, onto the terrace. She sat on the
steps and watched the narrow band of river visible beyond the slope flow by.

The sound of a car
brought her to her feet. Was Jack back? Her mood lightened. Not for Jack, of
course, but merely for the distraction from her troubles.

With a light step, she
passed through the house until she reached the central hall. She stopped at the
window when she realized Jack wasn’t alone.

He and a woman were
standing by a shiny SUV. On the side was a magnetic sign, but the angle was
wrong to read it from where she stood. She trotted to the library window. The
woman was getting into the car. The sign read, Hartwell Realty, with a logo and
a phone number. Beyond the SUV, nearer the corner of the house, was Jack’s
sedan.

Well, hadn’t Jack said
it was time to decide whether to stay or sell?

Distracted by the
signage, she didn’t notice Jack leave. She assumed he’d stepped up to the porch
and she went to the foyer and opened the door to greet him.

No Jack.

He must have gone
around by the side. She heard the distant sound of a door closing somewhere
within the house. She did the same with the front door. She waited a few minutes,
but when it became apparent that he didn’t plan to be social, she dug a book
out of her suitcase and went out to the terrace to read.

Rachel dined by herself
again. After supper, she washed up the dishes and then strolled outdoors,
leaving by way of the flower room. She walked a wide arc around Jack’s quarters
heading toward the eastern end of the house.