Traces (3 page)

“No cream with two sugars, and black.” Sue handed Meredith one cup and Max the other, and then tucked her hair behind both ears, making her appear like an eager teenager. “So, ready to move in?”

Meredith shrugged lightly. “For a while anyway. Thanks for remembering.” She lifted the cup in salute and took a sip. Hot and sweet. Perfect.

“Has Griz been any trouble?” Meredith cradled the steaming cup between her hands. The cat carrier sat where she’d left it, but the top door stood open. She looked around, searching for the feline. “Where is she?”

“She’s fine.” Sue gestured with a manicured hand to the elegant settee situated in the bay window, sunlight streaming in to highlight the calico snuggled there. “I took pity on her and let her out.”

“Thanks for keeping her for me.” Meredith took a long gulp of coffee and set the mug on the desk. “I should be going.”

“First,” Max said, “let me give you a copy of that application so you’ll at least know what’s been put into motion. You’ll want one for your records, I’m sure.”

Sue nodded her head rapidly, silky hair escaping from behind her ears to bob frantically about her chin. “You know what Max always says. That beautiful old plantation really ought to be preserved for future generations to enjoy and learn from. You’re fortunate to own such a splendid property.”

“Yes, it is beautiful.” Meredith didn’t have the heart to burst the woman’s bubble of excitement. While nothing would change her mind on this subject, she’d learned how to play the angles until the plans became actions. Max folded his arms, waiting, his expression guarded. She should at least pretend to care. She shrugged. “Fine, but make it quick.”

Max motioned for her to follow him and then strode to his office. Pacing behind him, she estimated the weeks needed to make the necessary arrangements and have the right people do the right things to carry out her plans. Given the very real possibility of resistance from local historians and probably her own family, she’d have to allow extra time. She hated to draw this process out any longer than required, but she’d learned long ago to be realistic when setting the timeline for a demolition. Her reputation rested on her ability to carry through with the detailed plans. Once she’d set the schedule for a project, she had never missed her deadline.

“I expect we’ll hear one way or the other in a few weeks,” Max said.

She stopped beside him. His desk, an expanse of highly polished wood, reflected not only the late morning sunshine but the apparent extreme orderliness of Max’s mind. Or perhaps Sue’s. The inbox matched the desk and contained a pile of folders, stacked with military precision. Not the haphazard mishmash of Meredith’s desk at home, but with the corners aligned and the tabs all pointing in the same direction. Pens and pencils stood at attention in separate wood cups, likely, Meredith thought with a grin, to prevent them from mingling after hours and procreating. Mixing the two just wasn’t done in polite society.

“Working with the National Register is never easy.” She fingered a gold-tipped pen, angling it against the flow of the others in the cup to see if Max would notice. She hid a conspiratorial grin at her little rebellious act. “I’ve managed to avoid working with them any more than absolutely necessary.”

“We have plenty of time, though. Right?” Max glanced at her and then back to the folder on the desk. One manicured finger, the nail clean and blunt-tipped, toyed with the edge of the manila stock, capturing Meredith’s gaze.

Willy’s hands sprang into her mind, his long fingers and wide palms calloused and capable. How many times had those fingers clasped her own, squeezing gently to share a joke or convey his feelings? She’d watched Willy work magic with those hands, creating a work of art from bushes and flowers and rocks. They’d joined forces once they married, she designing the homes, the developments, and other buildings, and he designing the artistic landscapes to enhance the overall appearance. Walking through his gardens was like exploring a fairy world, complete with blossoms and lighting and winding paths. Willy’s designs had won multiple awards over the past decade, and she’d been proud to be his wife.

They’d built a good life together, filled with love and promise. Their love had brought a deep abiding happiness into her world. Until the attack stole everything from her.

* * * *

Paulette O’Connell drew up to the curb and killed the engine. The pale spring sky provided a backdrop to the house she’d shared with Johnny for the last four years. Across the street, the bungalow sat dark and empty, a for-sale sign swinging in the early morning Indiana breeze. She clutched the steering wheel, wishing she felt something akin to the sadness or grief she ought to feel at the end of this once oh-so-promising relationship.

She’d fallen in love with the tall, sandy-haired man with the quick smile. He liked to joke and chat about anything and nothing. He seemed to be the perfect man for her. Only somehow she hadn’t noticed Johnny’s lack of willingness to share his feelings with her. His inability to actually care about most everything. Or, at least on the surface, he showed no signs of possessing a flicker of emotion, good or bad, about anything. Including her. Even when she finally had had enough and told him she held no ill will toward him but she couldn’t live with him any longer. He’d blinked and nodded, as though she’d told him the mail had arrived. Then he’d gone on about his plans to move, alone, to his dream job in Alaska.

Her car held the entire sum of her possessions, crammed into two good-sized boxes and a pillowcase. When she’d thrown her things together two days ago, she didn’t think through her actions. She’d crashed on a former coworker’s couch while she contemplated her situation. She no longer had a home, a man, or even a job after the house she’d been assigned to decorate had been completed. The firm she’d worked for told her they had to cut back on staff, and she’d been the last one hired. Time to face the awful truth. She had one last place she could go, one person she could descend upon who couldn’t refuse her. And after all the sacrifices she’d made, surely her sister, Meredith, owed her. Even though Paulette had tapped her before to get her out of a scrape here and there, they were still siblings. Sisters looked out for each other, right? It was no matter that they hadn’t actually seen each other in years or talked on the phone in many months.

Paulette laid a hand on her abdomen for a moment, her resolve slipping as she envisioned the murky path ahead. Given that Meredith now owned the plantation, she definitely had the room as well as the means to provide a home for Paulette. There was enough space in the old place that they could go for weeks without ever seeing one another should push come to shove. If only Paulette could manage to stifle the impulse to argue with her, perhaps they could coexist in relative peace. Maybe.

She turned the key and slipped the car into gear. Pulling away from the curb, she glanced at the once-welcoming house for the last time. The flowers and bushes she and Johnny had carefully planted when they first moved in were beginning to bud in anticipation of spring. White lacy sheers hung at the windows bordered by green shutters. Her dream home, or so she’d thought. She choked back a sob. Such a forlorn hope, after all.

Johnny had already left for his new job in Ketchikan, one of the tipping points that told her he didn’t truly care about her and what she wanted in life or, for that matter, in their relationship. She’d argued against his taking the job, hating the idea of living where it snowed and stayed cold the majority of the year. She’d tried to convince him to look for a different position in the South, where the climate stayed warmer on average than the north. Hell, Indiana had been difficult enough for her, with the gray skies and cold, windy winters. She longed for the sun like a cactus in the desert longs for rain. He’d ignored her, told her she was being selfish, and continued making the arrangements necessary for his move.

Now it was her turn. Driving faster, she merged onto I-65 southbound and headed for her new home.

Edna’s Supermarket hummed with customers. On Saturdays, the town of Roseville enjoyed the onslaught of people hurrying to complete the many errands the workday left no time for during the week. Meredith lowered her car windows enough to allow ample airflow on this spring afternoon. She’d parked in a shady spot at the back of the small lot, hoping to avoid dings and scrapes as well as to keep the car as cool as possible. The cat’s repeated plaintive yowls reverberated from within the bold yellow Camaro. “I understand, Griz. I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

Meredith strode across the lot and into the closely packed aisles of the town market. Edna’s had existed as long as she could remember and served as the town nexus. Everybody shopped there, if for no other reason than to know what was happening. The automatic doors ground open, a cold blast of air greeting her when she strolled inside. She hadn’t been to this town in decades, and yet everything seemed the same as when she last visited. She moved along the aisles, making her choices quickly. The sooner she finished her shopping, the less likely she’d run into anyone she knew. Of course, that was unlikely, since she hadn’t even thought of Roseville in more than twenty years. She relaxed her shoulders and walked on.

She paused in the fresh produce section to debate on a spring mix of lettuce or a head of romaine. Suddenly she noticed an older couple—she in blue jeans and flowered top, he in khaki overalls with an open-collared work shirt—standing by the bin of tomatoes, peering at her as though debating whether to speak. Uneasy with their open appraisal when she didn’t immediately recognize them, she cleared her throat. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sorry to stare. But can it be our little Meredith? Is it really you?”

The lady’s salt-and-pepper hair framed her heart-shaped face. Despite her advanced age, few wrinkles graced her smooth skin. Piercing cobalt eyes smiled at her. Peering closer, Meredith finally recalled the older woman.

“Meg? My goodness, it’s great to see you.” Meredith embraced her grandmother’s housekeeper. “I’m surprised you recognized me after all this time.”

“I’d never forget you. You remember my husband, Sean.” Meg patted her husband’s arm twice and smiled at him, her love for him in her adoring expression.

“Of course.” Meredith shook his proffered hand. “How have you both been?”

“We were better before that lawyer gave us a pink slip.” Sean shifted his weight to lean against the buggy.

“After Grandma died?” She bristled on their behalf. The two longtime employees of her grandmother deserved better treatment than that. Meg occupied a special place in Meredith’s heart after all the wonderful times they’d shared during their annual summer visits. “What are you doing now?”

“Looking for work, but at our age it’s difficult to find a new situation.” Meg’s smile became strained. She looped one arm through Sean’s, and he stood straight once more.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could help.” Meredith gripped the buggy handle, her mind racing through possible solutions but coming up empty.

“I hesitate to ask, but…well—” Meg drew in a quick breath and smiled. “If you’re willing, of course, we could work for you, seeing as how you’ve inherited the place.” Meg shifted closer to Sean, her eyes hopeful. “It’s a lot to manage. You are planning to stay, right? That’s what Max told us, anyhow.”

Max. Stirring up trouble for her yet again. Meredith did not need anyone else interfering with her plans. This couple, as helpful as they may be, could only cause complications. After they’d lived there for so many decades, surely they’d protest when they discovered the plantation’s fate. Yet the hope shining in their eyes gave her pause. They’d devoted most of their lives to working for her grandmother, and now they were on the street because of Max. Through no fault of their own, they found themselves out of a job and a livelihood. And a place to live to boot.

“I suppose I could use your help to put things in order,” Meredith said slowly. “But I can’t promise for how long.”

“Thank you, Meredith. I hoped you’d say that.” Meg beamed at her. “We appreciate your confidence in us. We won’t let you down.”

“We’ll move our things back into the caretaker’s cottage this afternoon,” Sean said. He shook her hand again, hope in his level gaze.

“Perfect.” Meredith mentally shrugged. They already knew their jobs, so how much trouble could they be? At a minimum, Meg could remove cobwebs and rid the joint of mildew. “I’ll see you later, and we’ll talk specifics.”

They waved as they hurried away down the aisle, chatting to each other with happy animation. She watched them until they turned the corner, wondering how they’d talked her into hiring them back so easily. Shaking off the encounter, she pushed the buggy quickly after them. Finally tossing in several cans of cat food to complement the bag of dry she’d brought with her in the car, she wheeled the buggy to the checkout.

She’d nearly made her escape when another female voice, one she hadn’t heard in at least a year, stopped her in her tracks. “My God, I can’t believe I’m seeing what I’m seeing. Little Meredith grocery shopping.”

Meredith raised her eyes to confirm that the voice she’d heard was indeed that of Paulette.
Crap, crap, crap
. She had no idea her evil nemesis was anywhere near Tennessee. The last she heard, she was holed up with some bloke in Indiana, doing what she did best: bitch and cause trouble.
Show no fear
. She swallowed but held her gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to greet me after all this time?” Paulette strutted over to stand next to the buggy, an alligator advancing on its breakfast. “I heard about your fortune, or at least your luck. What did you do to coerce Grandma into handing over her wealth to you?”

Meredith forcibly stopped herself from retreating backward, away from the angry flash of Paulette’s tawny eyes. “Do? Nothing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”

“I’m coming with you.” Paulette laid a hand on Meredith’s arm to detain her. “That house should have been mine. As the oldest and all, if nothing else.”