Breaking the Chain (23 page)

             
The Palm Beach house was smaller than expected, and Mary was relieved when she and Jack finished the inventory early Friday morning.
             
"That's the last of it," Jack said, glancing around the room, looking for something he might have missed. "Is there anything outstanding on your list?"
             
The roar of the waves echoed in the background as Mary flipped through the pages. "Nope. We've accounted for everything on the previous inventory list, plus two additional items. I guess that's it."
             
"Good. Once we pack up our stuff, we can head back to the plantation." He gazed at his wife's somber expression and ruffled her hair. "Hey, don't look so disgusted, babe. It's not your fault we didn't find the journal."
             
"I know. I feel like it's on the tip of my tongue, but I just can't get to it," she explained. "It's so frustrating. I know I've dreamed about the journal, but no matter how hard I try, I can't remember anything. I was hoping she might have hidden it here at the beach house, but obviously that's not the case. So much for my having a special talent," she said disgustedly.
             
Jack patted her shoulder in sympathy. It was obvious Mary was really disappointed at not having found the journal. He searched for the right words to help her get over her disillusionment. "Well, I wouldn't give up just yet, babe. Maybe your subconscious hasn't had enough time to make the connection. When you found the necklace at that old hotel, it wasn't instantaneous; you'd been there a day or two. And, even your aunt admitted that her talent was intermittent, and didn't work all the time. Maybe this is one of those times when you can't make the connection."
             
"Yeah, but if I can't make the connection now, what's to say I ever will?" she asked dejectedly. "Maybe this is God's way of telling me that my days of seeing ghosts and people from the past are over. And, considering the alternatives, that's actually not a bad thing."
             
He squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. "That's the spirit. I hate to bring this up, but aren't you just the tiniest bit relieved that you didn't find it?"
             
"Well, I am disappointed, but I'm certainly not going to cut my throat because we failed to locate Elizavon's journal. And, if I'm honest, I do have to admit that maybe it's not such a bad thing that I don't have this so-called talent." She walked over to the window facing the private beach and watched the ebb and flow of the waves onto shore. "I just hate the thought of all that information about my ancestors being lost because my aunt hid her stupid journal. DeeDee and I know practically nothing about our family history. Mom never talked about it, and I haven't had the time to do any research."
             
"Why don't you call her business manager and ask if he can give you the names of the firms who did the work for her? If he can find that out, you can write them, explain that you're Elizavon's niece, and have them send you a copy of the data."
             
She walked over and planted a kiss on the side of his cheek. "That's one of the things I love about you, Jack. You're so practical. Whenever I have a problem, you always figure out a way to solve it."
             
"That's what I'm here for, babe. To cater to your every whim."
             
"Ohhhhh. I think I might like having my own personal slave." She snapped her fingers. "Get to work, slave boy. You need to pack up our stuff so we can go home," she ordered with a cheeky grin. "I'm sure Dykes would like to land in daylight for a change. And, I've been keeping an eye on the weather, too. For once, there isn't a storm front looming on the horizon. Maybe we'll be lucky enough to have a smooth flight."
             
He followed her into the bedroom. "Tell you what, babe. I'll even pack a few extra paper bags, just in case you need them." Laughing, he ducked as a pillow zoomed across the bed toward him.
             
"Why don't you call Dykes while I finish packing?" Mary suggested. "I'm sure he's just hanging around, waiting for us. He'll probably be glad to leave a couple hours early."
             
"Okay. Just let me know if you need any help," Jack called over his shoulder. He reappeared a few minutes later, laptop in hand. "He'll be ready when we get there."
             
Mary snapped the last suitcase shut and glanced around the room. "You know, you'd think we'd be thrilled to have a few days alone at a luxury beach house, but all I can think about is going home."
             
"I know. As beautiful as the private beach is, I don't want to spend one more minute than we have to here. Like you, I'll be glad to get back to the plantation."
             
"Do you think it's because this is Elizavon's house?"
             
He scratched his chin. "Probably. You're not the only one who wants to finish these inventories and be done with her. I can't wait to be through."
             
Jack waited in the car while she made one last circuit around the house, making sure they hadn't left anything. "Well, that's it, then," she announced, buckling her seatbelt. "I feel like I'm saying good bye," she whispered in a solemn tone. "I know it's silly, but I feel like we've finally turned the corner and can move on."
             
As Jack started the rental car, he couldn't help wondering what they might be moving on to. They still had Sadie's brown man to face, and only God knew what that meant. Hopefully it would all end soon and they could get on with the rest of their lives. If not, well, the alternative just didn't bear thinking about. At least not yet.
 

             
           
             
             
                       
40
 

             
Mary woke in the wee hours of Sunday morning with a vague feeling of apprehension, unsure of what had roused her from a sound sleep. Was someone in the house? A prowler? Her first instinct was to wake Jack, but she stilled her hand before it touched him. What if it was Justine or Sadie getting up to get a drink of water? She'd feel pretty silly waking him up for nothing. Better to wait and see if she could identify the noise first.
             
The hall clock bonged twice as she lay in the bed, listening for any unusual sounds, but all she heard were the creaks and groans of an aging house. All perfectly normal, considering the age of the plantation. Exhaling softly, she waited a few more minutes; when nothing untoward happened, she breathed a sigh of relief.
             
The covers rustled as she pulled them up to her chin, and once she'd snuggled back into a comfortable spot on the feather mattress, she closed her eyes and began counting backwards. Unfortunately she was too wide-awake for that ploy to work, so she slid out of bed, slipped into a robe, and tiptoed downstairs.
             
The kitchen was bathed in the pale glow of moonlight. Rather than turn on the light and risk waking someone, she opened the curtains as wide as she could. The only sound was the soft swishing of her slippers as she padded over to the refrigerator, grabbed a carton of milk, and poured some into a large coffee cup. It didn't take long for the microwave to heat the milk, and she carried the cup over to the small table tucked under the window.
             
A full moon hovered in the sky, its pale light illuminating the tops of the huge oak trees that circled the backyard like a ring of guardians, protecting all who lived inside. At one end of the yard, she could see three deer standing in Mrs. Milliron's vegetable garden. So that was why it hadn't produced much in the way of corn! Crafty little buggers. She made a mental note to mention to Mrs. Milliron that they'd need to find a way to keep the deer out if she planned on salvaging any of the corn.
             
The family of deer suddenly raised their heads, then bounded toward the safety of the trees. Something must have startled them, but what? Another animal? Setting down her cup, Mary leaned closer to the glass, suddenly glad she hadn't switched on the overhead light.
             
Her blood chilled as the outlines of what looked like two men cautiously emerged from Jack's workshop. Her first thought was that some of the local folks had been fooling around in the tunnel while they were gone. She pulled the curtain partially shut to keep her presence hidden, and waited to see what they would do. Relief flooded through her when they darted into the trees and didn't return.
             
So much for keeping the tunnel a secret. It was probably a couple of local kids carrying out a dare. Lord knows there'd been enough of them trying to sneak into the one she'd found last year. Fortunately, they'd caught the idiots before anyone had been hurt. The sooner those bulldozers filled in this new tunnel, the better. Until then, it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to change the locks on the workshop door, maybe even nail the windows shut. Better safe than sorry.
             
Gazing out the window, she sipped her milk and watched to see if the deer would return. As she waited, her breathing settled into a normal rhythm, and she could feel the tension draining from her body. Must be the warm milk kicking in. Reluctant to leave the peaceful kitchen, she stayed where she was, enjoying the tranquility of the moment. Unexpectedly, images of her Aunt Elizavon flashed across her mind. She "saw" Elizavon creep down the stairs and enter the library, journal in hand. The old woman sneaked toward the bookcases...
             
Footsteps in the hall snapped the vision, and Mary swore under her breath. Of all the times for somebody to be roaming through the house! Irritated, she grabbed the empty coffee cup, carried it over to the sink, and filled it with water.
             
"There you are," Jack said, stepping into the kitchen. "I wondered where you were. You okay, babe? What are you doing up at this hour of the night?"
             
Her irritation faded and she crossed the room in double time. "Guess what, Jack.? I saw her! I actually saw Aunt Elizavon carrying the journal! It's in the library, in the house in Boston. I know where it is!"
             
"Whoa, slow down, baby. Are you sure you saw her, or was it just a trick of your imagination?"
             
She tugged on his arm. "No, this time I actually saw her. She was creeping down the stairs, and had the journal pressed against her chest. She entered the library and walked toward the big bookcase behind her desk."
             
"That's great, babe. I knew you could do it. Did you see where she hid it?"
             
"No, unfortunately, the link snapped before I could see that part." She reached up and ran a hand through her hair. "I bet I can find it if we go back to the house. We'll have Dykes fly us back to Boston, make a quick search for the journal, then zip back here tomorrow. Mrs. Milliron can take care of any guests that arrive while we're gone. Piece of cake."
             
He nudged her toward the stairs. "Tell you what. Why don't we go back to bed, and talk about travel plans when we get up," he said, stifling a yawn.
             
Mary fell into step beside him. "I'm so glad I saw her, Jack. You have no idea how much of a relief it is to know that I can see what happened in the past, to know that I'm not losing the few marbles I started out with. I feel like the weight of the world's been lifted off my shoulders."
             
"I thought you said you were glad you hadn't seen anything."
             
"I know, but this is better--now I know I'm not losing my marbles, and that my past visions were real."
             
"Yeah, well, if you don't keep quiet, you'll wake up the whole house and have Sadie's cane sitting on your shoulders," Jack whispered in her ear. "I'm really glad for you, baby, but you do know it's three o'clock in the morning, right? I'm sorry, but my mind doesn't function this early in the day. Time for us to go back to bed. Especially if we're going to fly back to Boston in a few hours."
             
"Okay," she whispered. "But there's something else I need to tell you before we go back to bed. While I was sitting in the kitchen, I saw two kids sneak out of your workshop. At least I think it was kids. They were probably checking out the tunnel. No telling how many others have snuck in there while we've been gone. You might want to consider calling the bulldozer guys to see if they can come sooner."
             
"Damn. I was hoping we could keep it quiet."
             
"Sorry, babe. Looks like the word's already out."
             
Jack shrugged out of his robe and climbed into bed. "Guess I'll call them after we get up and see if they can come earlier."
             
Mary climbed into bed and pounded her pillow into a comfortable lump. "You know, there is an
upside
to all this."
             
"Oh yeah? What?"
             
"Between all the guests we have coming and the people filling in the tunnel, the brown man won't dare show his face. Too many witnesses."