Time Is a River (34 page)

T
he air held that astonishing freshness of a morning after a storm. Mia thought it was as though God took the mountain, gave it a good washing, shook it out, then set it out to dry in the sun. The trees stood taller, the leaves of shrubs and plants rose higher as though in thanks, and the birds were chirping and jumping from branch to branch with relief as much as joy.

Around the cove, broken branches and leaves littered the ground like confetti. The river had overflowed its banks to within feet of the house. There was a tangy odor in the air of drenched and soggy soil. Mia was relieved that she’d parked her car on the high ground in back of the cabin—until she’d seen the tree that had fallen on it.

The memory of the thunderous cracking and falling played again in her mind and in one breath she thanked God that the tree hadn’t fallen on the cabin. Then, in her next, she cursed her bad luck while she pulled branches and leaves aside to check the damage to her car. Her little sedan sat nestled in a blanket of green but was miraculously spared serious damage. Only the tips of the maple cloaked her car, scratching it at best, denting it at worst. As long as it could drive, she thought as she began tugging away broken branches.

The echo of someone calling her name distracted her. Turning her head she saw a man hiking up the road in a red baseball cap and a black backpack. As he drew near she recognized his long, lanky form.

“Stuart!” she called, waving her hand in an arc over her head. She trotted down the driveway and waited at the edge of the gravel.

He trudged through the sea of mud and water, his blue eyes blazing and fixed on her. When he reached her side he swooped low to gather her in his arms, press her tight against him, and kiss her profoundly.

Mia wrapped her arms around the breadth of his shoulders. He smelled of soap and sweat, tangy mud and green leaves. His lips were as cool as the morning when they touched hers, but heated with the lingering kiss. When he released her he leaned back and cupped her face in his hands and his gaze devoured her for a long minute.

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

“Last night I wasn’t sure I’d see this face again,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I’m enjoying the view.”

“Stuart, I…”

“Wait. And listen. I’m going to stay in Watkins Cove. I’ve made up my mind. I know you’ve got to go back to Charleston, but not for forever. I’m going to be here waiting for you to come back. Do you hear me?”

Mia’s smile trembled as she stepped back, trying to take it all in. “Yes.”

“Good.” His face relaxed and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, then looked around the cabin. “Looks like the cabin held up OK. I’d feared the worst.”

“How bad was the storm out there?”

He looked incredulous. “You couldn’t tell?”

“Well, yes, sure, but this cove protects the cabin from the worst of it.”

“Nicholas packed a punch. They’re saying it dumped between twelve and sixteen inches of rainfall over twenty-four hours and triggered at least twenty isolated landslides. Highways are blocked, houses are damaged or destroyed. And you know that bit of road with the overlook you’re so fond of?”

Mia nodded her head.

“Gone.”

She blinked, not sure she understood. “Gone?”

“Yep. The whole side of road slid right off the mountain. If you were sitting there on that bench, you’d be in Tennessee about now.”

“Oh, no,” she said with a soft moan. “I loved that little spot.”

“It’s a goner. That’s why I hiked over the ridge from Watkins Lodge. It’s the only way in or out of the cove. The state bulldozers are already clearing up the mud so they can open up the road and that’s the only road that leads to Watkins Cove. It could be days before you can drive out of here.”

“You can say that again.” She looked over her shoulder and lifted her arm toward her car buried under green. Bits of silver peeked out from the dense green.

Stuart released a sinking whistle as he walked toward the car. He poked through and lifted branches to get a better look at the damage. They flung back with a shudder when he released them. He wiped his palms on his shorts. “You might’ve gotten off lucky. Looks like a good chainsaw and some muscle will set things to right. We can come back with tools when the road is clear. But for now, mountain girl…” He curled his fingers with hers. “Pack up a few essentials in a backpack and put on your boots. It’s going to be a muddy hike.”

Hours later they cleaned up and headed to Shaffer’s for coffee and news. Main Street was filled with locals milling about and Mia assumed they were all in town to pick up supplies at Rodale’s Grocery and Clark’s Hardware after the storm. Everywhere, she saw signs of damage. Yellow tape blocked off the western edge of Route 9 that led to the overlook and Watkins Cove. A high-pitched hum contrasting with the low growl of engines rent the usual peace of the small town as bulldozers, dump trucks, and other state machinery worked at clearing the roads. Even state troopers had their lights flashing as they blocked traffic from approaching.

Shaffer’s was full of townspeople talking excitedly. A long line traveled all the way to the door. Becky was ringing the register while Katherine and even Skipper manned the busy pastry counter. Mia and Stuart took a place in line, and she heard snippets of conversation from the people in the shop as they moved slowly forward. “Lost that purty maple in my backyard.” “I prayed to Jesus all night long.” “I was a-scared, all right. The river, it come lappin’ at our door.” When she heard someone say something about “bones,” she turned her head.

She felt Stuart’s hand on her back and he bent to say in her ear, “Look back there. Your friends are waving.”

Mia looked over to where he was pointing and saw Phyllis Pace and Nada Turner waving her over. Nada jumped up to snatch two spare chairs from empty tables and bring them over to their small circular one. Mia smiled and nodded in acknowledgment, thinking as she did so that it was the first time she’d heard these women described as “friends.”

When she finally got to the counter she heard Becky call, “Mornin’, Mia! Sure is good to see you this morning. We were worried the river was going to wash that cabin away like it did the road.”

“Nope. Still here,” she called back. She was glad to see Becky so full of energy. “Sure is busy this morning.”

Skipper came up and smiled his hello. “It’s all the excitement.”

“About the road?” Stuart asked from behind her.

Skipper looked surprised that they hadn’t heard. “No. About the bones!”

“What bones?” Mia asked.

From the table in the back Mia heard Nada call out, “Quit holding up the line. Come on back here and we’ll fill you in.”

Mia looked behind her with a guilty eye to see a long line waiting for a chance to grab a coffee and a pastry.
Sorry,
she mouthed, and the people smiled kindly in response. Lennie came in with a fresh tray of hot, iced cinnamon buns, and her knees almost melted when she caught their sweet scent. She ordered two with two large coffees and slapped bills on the counter before Stuart could grab his wallet.

“It’s standard pay for rescues,” she told him as she snapped her wallet shut.

They carried their buns and coffee to the table and squeezed into the tight space. Stuart’s jeans rubbed against hers under the table.

“What’s this about bones?” Mia asked.

Nada and Phyllis leaned over the table, their eyes bright with excitement.

“They found bones on Route Nine while they were clearing the mud,” Nada reported. “That’s why the police are involved.”

“Do they know whose they are?” Stuart asked.

“No, it’s too early for an ID,” she replied. “They’re still searching. They’ll bring them to the coroner’s office once they’ve finished. Right now they’re picking through the mud to make sure they get them all and to see if they can find anything that will help identify who it is. You know, like a driver’s license, bits of clothing, that sort of thing.”

“Do they have any suspicions?” asked Stuart.

“No, not yet.”

“How old are they?” Mia asked as the ghost of an idea began to take shape in her mind.

“Can’t tell. Pretty old. There’s only bones there, if you know what I mean.”

Mia mulled this over as she sat back in the chair. She stared down at her coffee while her mind went over the letter she’d read from Kate to Theodora. She must have read the letter a dozen times and with each read she heard Kate’s voice as though she were speaking to her in the same room. There was such love and compassion in her words, especially for the granddaughter she’d never met. How could Belle not have been overcome by reading it?

There were also specific descriptions in her letter of the night DeLancey disappeared. Or, rather, died, as Kate believed. Mia had read the letter so many times she could recite it verbatim.
I drove only partway to town when I saw that the road had been destroyed by a mudslide.

What if Kate were wrong about DeLancey? she wondered with mounting excitement. What if for all those years she’d thought he’d died by his own hand, when, in truth, it had been an act of God?

“Mia?” Stuart asked, drawing her attention.

Mia startled, brought back to the conversation. “Oh, sorry, I was just…” She sat forward. If she needed a support team right now, the two women at the table were her best bets. “Girls,” she said, feeling adrenaline pumping in her veins. “This is really important. Can anyone get their hands on a geological survey that goes back to nineteen twenty-nine?”

Nada narrowed her eyes. “That’s easy enough. What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

Phyllis tapped her chin with speculation. “I know where she’s headed. You think those bones could be DeLancey’s?”

“Yes,” Mia declared.

“Mia,” Phyllis said with slight exasperation. “This time I think you’re stretching too far.”

Mia leaned closer and kept her voice low. “Huddle up.”

The two women raised their brows but brought their heads closer. Stuart brought his ear close as well.

“Cone of silence, OK?” she asked. The women’s eyes gleamed as they nodded. Stuart smirked. “Last night I read a letter that Kate Watkins wrote to Theodora.”

“Where’d you get that?” Phyllis exclaimed.

“Oh hush, Phyllis,” Nada whispered heatedly. “Ask your questions later. Go on,” she said to Mia, as alert as a hunting dog pointing at the brush.

“It’s no secret,” Mia answered. “Don’t you remember the letter that Lucy Roosevelt gave me for Belle?” She saw Phyllis frown in stern disapproval. Mia quickly shook her head to dispel her suspicions. “No, I didn’t open it. I gave it to Belle. Yesterday Belle gave it back to me to read.”

“What did it say?” Nada asked.

“I’ll let Belle decide how much to share, but what’s to the point today is that Kate wrote about the night DeLancey disappeared.” She heard the intake of breath at the table. “She wrote that there was a terrible storm that night. I remembered that your daddy, Mr. Pace, remarked on the same thing,” she added to Phyllis. “How it rained like the Lord’s flood that whole week.” She leaned closer, her whisper hoarse with excitement as she spoke each word with deliberation. “In the letter, Kate wrote that the road was washed away and that she was stuck in the cabin for three days before she could get to town.”

Nada drew back. “And you’re wondering if a mudslide took away Route Nine that night.”

“Right,” she replied. “The only road from town to Watkins Cove is Route Nine. All we know is DeLancey disappeared the night of November ninth, nineteen twenty-nine.”

“But they found bones,” Stuart argued. “Not a car.”

“But he didn’t have a car,” Nada remarked. “He took the train in.” “He wouldn’t walk to Watkins Cove,” he said.

“The fact is, he was drunk and upset when he disappeared,” added Mia. “Let’s just say his judgment was impaired. What if he was desperate and didn’t have a car so he just started walking back to Kate?”

“And the poor guy was caught in a mudslide.” Nada shook her head. “I can believe it.”

“Yes, but will the sheriff?” asked Phyllis.

Nada rose from the table like a shot.

“Where are you going?” Mia asked, surprised.

“
We’re
going to see the sheriff. He’ll need to know all this. But we need to lay it all down for him nice and clear. First we’ll go to the
Gazette
and gather up all those articles we dug up. And Phyllis, you get that geological survey. You can do it if anyone can.”

Phyllis jotted down the date, her brow knit with concentration. “I’ll get right on it and call you the minute I find anything out.” She looked up and her usually skeptical eyes were wide with hope. “Oh, Nada, do you think this might be it? An answer, after all these years…”

Mia reached Belle by phone and gave her a brief account of their conclusions and told her of their plan to go to the sheriff. After a stunned silence Belle replied, “I’ll meet you there. I’m on my way.”

Sheriff Rusty Rhodes was an affable man. He was average height and build with an all-American face and red hair that gave him his nickname. He had an easy manner and good looks that inspired confidence. Mia figured he was likely the dreamboat of the local high school in his time. His belly was a little paunchy now, and his cheeks fleshy in his middle years, but he still charmed when he smiled, as he did now.