Page 59 of The Silence of Hell

I entered the bedroom with Jinx on my heels and stopped.

“What the fuck?” I gasped as I stared at the second bunch of wildflowers on the bed. The dress was now on a hanger on the back of the door, whereas I’d left it folded neatly and carefully.

“I’m guessing you didn’t do that,” Jinx said grimly.

“No. That dress is sending a message, but I don’t know what. Somebody wants me to remember my childhood,” I murmured.

“Why that particular one?” Jinx asked.

“Good question. There were several dresses Aunt Aggie and I played dress up in, but that one was special.”

“What made it so?” Jinx pushed quietly.

“Because I always said I’d get married in it one day,” I answered, chuckling.

“To whom?”

“Ronnie,” I said immediately and froze. “Who the hell is Ronnie?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“I was an only child, and Uncle Ronald had died before I was born. Who is Ronnie?” I mused, wracking my brains. I was missing something. My memories, which I thought were sharp, weren’t. I came to the realisation that I might have some of these answers locked inside me, but I couldn’t access them. What was I forgetting?

Chapter Thirteen.

Lavender

“Thank you, Lio,” I replied to the friendly detective and cut the call. Well, now I knew how Aunt Aggie died.

Chatter held my gaze as the third person with us, Rock, cocked his head. We were in the field that was separate from the estate. I’d been expecting a guy called Apache, so Rock had thrown me off stride, but Chatter reassured me he was the second partner in BlackRock Construction. Either way, Rock knew what he was talking about as he used a sketch book to quickly craft ideas and make note of what I wanted.

“What did he say?” Chatter asked.

“That Aunt Aggie had fallen and had been rushed to hospital with a broken leg. They’d wanted to keep her in, but she’d discharged herself. She was found four weeks later when someone called in a welfare check. Aggie had passed in her sleep,” I said sadly.

“Sorry to hear that,” Chatter murmured, stroking my arm.

“I hate that she died alone and in pain!” The words burst from me, and I swallowed hot tears back.

“Yeah. That’s valid to feel, Lavender, but we’ll honour her memory,” Chatter soothed as I wrestled control of my emotions.

I nodded in agreement, and Rock began asking some questions again. No doubt to distract me. We finally figured out I didn’t like modern concrete monstrosities, as I called them. I loved gothic architecture and wide spaces. Rock quickly sketched a central building with wings coming off it either side and forming a square. In the middle, he placed a garden for picnics.

I nodded as I liked that, and then he drew a second and third, which I gave approval for. For the cars, he designed a nineteen-sixties style building with the neon lights and juke boxes and old-fashioned tools, etcetera. It looked amazing.

“These are rough. Give us a month, and we’ll have detailed drawings back to you for all four museums. The doll museum”—he held back his laughter as Chatter shivered—“which you say would need a building of its own… how about a huge dollhouse?” Rock suggested.

I gaped at his idea and then grinned. “We don’t use the D-word around Chatter,” I said, hearing a whimper. “We use the word cretin. But a giant cretin house would be amazing. However, in light of him visiting, see that strand of trees? Maybe we could build it there? Trees encircle all four sides, but there is a large clearing in the middle, and it would hide it from Chatter’s view.”

Rock snorted, and I guessed he was aware of Chatter’s phobia.

“Let me check it out,” he suggested and nodded to Chatter.

“Go with him,” I ordered, and Chatter sent me a look. “You’re curious. I’m within screaming distance of you, and I’ll be fine.”

Chatter sent me a lingering expression before chasing off after Rock. I gazed around the field as I sat down. There were a lot of wildflowers growing here, and I didn’t want it ruined. But there was a large swathe of grassy land where Rock said we could build on and leave the wildflower area alone.

As soon as I approved the designs, BlackRock Construction would apply for permits and whatnots. Rock had shown me where a road would need to go, and there was a patch of barren land that I could possibly buy for a car park. Rock was going to look into it and find out who owned it. It was highly likely a local farmer did, but the land was useless.

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