Page 80 of The Christmas Spirits on Tradd Street
“Thank goodness. At this rate we’ll be lucky to be done by the time we’re all ready for the nursing home.”
“So it’s a good thing I’m living here for a bit while I recuperate. I intend to spend every spare minute working on it until we’ve found where all the pieces fit.” Anthony’s voice had a hard edge to it, and I wondered if it had to do with Jayne keeping him at arm’s length.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s a good thing. Because everything else we’ve discovered has led us nowhere in a hurry.”
“Seems like it,” he said. “Jayne’s caught me up to speed on everything—thought that maybe I could help. Sadly, I can’t offer anythingnew. Except... Well, did Jack find the drawing in the box of papers I gave him?”
“Yes, he did. But it means nothing to us. We need to see the one Marc copied from your grandfather’s diary, put them together, maybe, to see if they form a picture or code or something that might make sense.”
“Remember I told you that Marc showed it to me? I might remember it if I could see the other picture. It’s a long shot, but worth a try, right?”
For the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope. “Yes,” I said brightly. “It’s definitely worth a try. I know Jack hid it, but I’m not sure where. I’d call him and ask, but I know he’s working and I hate to disturb him, but I promise to ask him tonight. Not to worry—it’s out of sight, so Marc can’t find it. And if you can’t offer any hints after you’ve seen it, I’ll try to get Rebecca to help.”
“Rebecca? Good luck with that. She’s definitely drunk the Kool-Aid where Marc’s concerned.”
“Yeah, well, she’s still my cousin. And they say that blood’s thicker than water.”
“So they say,” Anthony said, already back to studying the photo in his hand, searching for where it might belong.
The doorbell rang, startling us both. “Maybe it’s the UPS man,” I said. “Jayne does a lot of online shopping.” That was only half the truth. I actually did a lot of online shopping—or had before our financial situation had deteriorated—and had most of it delivered to Jayne’s house so Jack wouldn’t realize exactly how much.
I peered through the sidelights, surprised to see Meghan Black, holding her Kate Spade purse against her chest with both arms wrapped around it, the shoulder strap around the back of her neck. I pulled open the door and ushered her inside.
“Meghan! It’s good to see you. But what are you doing here?”
“Your sister, Miss Smith, said I could find you here. I hope you don’t mind, but I needed to see you right away.”
Fear tiptoed its way down my spine. “Has something happened?”
She looked past me to the dining room, where she could see Anthony sitting at the table. He glanced up and waved. Her large brown eyes widened with concern. “Can we speak privately?”
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “He’s on our side.”
She nodded, but the look of concern didn’t leave her face. Lifting the strap off her neck, she said, “We found something.”
The scrape of the chair in the dining room announced Anthony’s approach. “In the cistern?” he asked.
Meghan nodded. “It was actually my friend Rachel Flooring who discovered it. She wasn’t sure what it was, so she showed it to me. I probably wouldn’t have had any idea, either, except that I’ve seen that portrait of Eliza Grosvenor at Gallen Hall—back when we were doing work in the cemetery there, we were given a tour of the house. I remember how creepy the painting was, how the eyes kind of followed me around, you know?”
Anthony nodded emphatically. “I know exactly what you mean. I will admit to hurrying past it as fast as I can every time I need to use the stairs.” Anthony reached out his hand. “Anthony Longo. Pleased to meet you.”
Meghan’s eyebrows shot up as she jerked her head toward me.
“He’s Marc Longo’s brother—but it’s okay. Anthony doesn’t see eye to eye with Marc on what he has planned for our house on Tradd Street and is trying to help us.”
Meghan relaxed a little and shook his hand. “Good to know. But, yeah, that portrait with the scary eyes... Well, it’s not something a person forgets. Especially that peacock brooch she’s wearing. Something about it draws the eye. Like she’s asking you to look at it.” She began fumbling with the latch on her purse. “Speaking of which.” After pulling a small bundle wrapped in cloth from her purse, she looked toward the dining room. “Can I put this on the table? You should probably see it under better light.”
I led her into the dining room, Anthony following close behind.Meghan’s eyes widened when she spotted the rows and columns of photographs. “Wow—what’s going on here?”
“These are bricks from the mausoleum at Gallen Hall,” Anthony said. “We think they’re all supposed to fit together like some kind of a puzzle. It’s a total guess, but as you can see we’ve already matched up quite a few, so it’s possible we’re not completely out of the park.”
Meghan smiled. “It reminds me of a Nancy Drew book. I was obsessed with them when I was younger—I’ve read them all about a dozen times.”
“Me, too,” I said, liking Meghan more and more.
“So,” Anthony said, reminding us of why we were there, “what did you find? The Confederate gold or another diamond?” His laugh sounded forced, and both Meghan and I looked at him.
With a serious face, Meghan said, “You know, Mr. Longo, all the diamonds were located and the story of how the gold is buried somewhere waiting to be discovered by some lucky person is a complete fabrication.”
