Page 68 of The Guests on South Battery
“Well, you should,” she said, starting to pick up various pieces of jewelry and drop them into the boxes.
“Did you know that Jayne was invited to the party, too?”
She glanced at me over her shoulder. “Yes. She asked me to help her find a dress.”
I raised my eyebrows, causing my mother to stop what she was doing and face me. “That poor girl needs a mother in the worst way—even more than you did. Have you noticed how much better she is with children than adults? Anyway, I told her yes. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Why should I mind?” I asked, trying desperately to keep the pique from my voice.
She sent me a knowing look. “We’re going Sunday, her next day off, and you’re welcome to come. It might be awkward, but I’d hate for you to think that I picked out a prettier dress for her.”
“Really, Mother? I’m notthatimmature.”
It was her turn to raise her eyebrows.
“Besides, I’m not the one who says I should be keeping score.”
“That’s different,” she said. “Rebecca’s motives are never good. Whereas I really don’t think Jayne has a conniving bone in her body.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from saying anything, remembering my earlier suspicions, and unwilling to completely let them go regardless of how much I trusted Jack or liked Jayne.
She returned to gathering up the jewelry to put it away. I held out both hands, wanting to stop the haphazard way she was dumping the pieces into random boxes. Sensing my mood, she turned her back to me and started moving quicker as if she were afraid I would give in to my urges and overpower her.
My phone beeped in my purse, and I dug it out to answer the text, eager to be distracted from the horror that was unfolding in front of me. “I’ve got to go. Sophie said they’ve found a cat and she needs me to come take a look. She suggested you come, too, if you can.”
“I should be able to make it,” she said, raising her arm to look at the watch on her wrist, then shaking her hand. “This is so annoying. I’vehad this watch for years without a single problem, and then about a month ago it begins to stop at the same time no matter how many times I reset it.”
I felt my skin tighten along my scalp. “What time does it get stuck on?”
She looked at her watch again. “Ten minutes after four. Isn’t that odd?”
“Odder than you think.” I placed the necklace and ring in my purse. “Come on. I’ll drive and tell you all about it on the way over.”
She followed me out of the room. “What should I tell your father?”
“Whatever you’d like. Just as long as you don’t mention that we’re going to go look at a skeleton that’s been boarded up inside an attic wall for about thirty years.”
Sophie, Rich Kobylt, and the entire work crew were waiting in the driveway when we pulled up to the Pinckney house, Sophie with a worried expression and Rich looking as if he was about to tell us again that he thought the house was haunted.
“Did you call Jayne?” I asked as Sophie approached.
She nodded. “She’s on her way. Mrs. Houlihan already left, so she had to wait for Jack to come home so she could leave the children.”
“Afternoon, Miz Trenholm, Miz Middleton,” Rich said as he approached. “My guys are a little unsettled and it’s already past quitting time, so I’m going to let them go home. But I’ll stick around in case you need help moving... the remains.”
“It’s only a cat,” I said. “I’m sure we can—”
“Thank you, Rich,” my mother said. “We’d appreciate it.” She turned her head to me and whispered, “I’m not touching it.”
Rich nodded, then returned to his crew, who began loading tools into the beds of their trucks. Jayne joined us, a little out of breath from her walk. “I’m not really sure I need to go in to see it,” she said. “I trust your judgment, Sophie. So if you just want to plaster it over...”
“Well,” Sophie said, drawing out the word, “it’s a little morecomplicated than that. Figured you should see it all yourself before deciding on how to proceed.”
Jayne looked up at the empty windows of the house, and I saw an almost imperceptible shudder go through her. She forced a smile. “All right. Let’s go, then.”
We walked upstairs single file, Sophie in the front. The tingling at the back of my neck that had begun while I stood outside had fled, leaving me with the unsettled feeling of knowing we were being watched, but unable to stare back. It was like being in a fistfight, except I wasn’t allowed to throw any punches. It was maddening, and frustrating, and not a little frightening.
I heard humming, and turned around to see Jayne, who seemed to be doing her best to stay calm. She’d told me a dozen times that she hated old houses, and I was sure we were about to expose a reason why so many people shared her opinion.
