Page 87 of The Christmas Spirits on Tradd Street
“I didn’t get bad vibes from it, Mellie. It was practically begging me to find it. I think it’s okay for me to touch it.” She bent down and picked it up, holding it tightly in her palm. I waited for her to scream or for some otherworldly voice to come from her mouth or for her face to become unrecognizable. Instead she closed her eyes serenely, her face softening as she tilted her head to the side as if she were listening to a voice that only she could hear. And then her other hand flew to her neck, pulling at something I couldn’t see, and she began to cough.
“Mother!” I grabbed her hand, pulling at her fingers to get her to release the ring, but they were like steel straps, unwilling to let go of their prize.
I was wondering if I should call Jayne for help, when my mother stopped coughing and her breathing returned to normal. Her eyes moved under her eyelids like those of a person having a vivid dream, but she was no longer agitated.
She stayed that way for a full minute, until her hand relaxed and the ring fell onto the rug with a small thud. She opened her eyes as if to reorient herself, then sat back in the chaise. I went to her quickly, taking her hand and finding it surprisingly warm.
“Mother? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine—I promise. The whole process is just exhausting—and gets even more so the older I become.” She gave me a reassuring smile. “But I’m fine. Really.”
I bent down to pick up the ring from the floor, then slid it onto my finger so I couldn’t lose it. “Did you see anything? Did you see the man it belonged to?”
She tucked her chin as if confused by my question. “The man?” She shook her head. “No, Mellie, it didn’t belong to a man. It was a woman. Definitely a woman.”
“A woman?” I said slowly, recalling what Greco had said. How when he’d slipped the ring on his finger, someone had kissed him on his cheek.
“Yes.” She reached up and brushed her neck with her fingers. “She... couldn’t breathe. She was choking. But she was hurting elsewhere, too.” Her palm pressed against her chest where her heart was. “Not like the pain from a heart attack. More like... a broken heart.”
We stared at each other while I tried to find room for this particular puzzle piece. “Is that all?”
Mother shook her head. “No. She kept repeating the same word, over and over. I believe she’s said it before.”
“What?” I asked, although I knew exactly what she was going to say before the word passed her lips.
“Lies.”
CHAPTER 30
I hesitated on my mother’s porch, the chilly wind buffeting me, the scent in the air definitely something odd. Something that smelled a lot like a word I dared not say out loud. Down south, where snow was treated with the seriousness of an erupting volcano and its subsequent lava flow, it was often referred to as a four-letter word.
I looked at my watch again. I’d already called Jolly and had her cancel lunch with Sophie and change my appointment, so I wasn’t worried about being late. But I was torn between heading over to Jayne’s house—where Jack had told me he’d moved the box of documents—to compare the drawing Rebecca had given me with the one from the archives, and going home to see how Jack was and to go over the most recent developments with him.
The wind hit me full on, so cold that my cheeks burned and I could no longer feel my nose. There was definitely going to be something freezing and cold dripping from the sky, so it simply made more sense for me to head to Jayne’s first, so that if it did begin to snow, I could head home to hunker down and talk with Jack then. Assuming he was even up to any kind of discussion.
Telling myself I was doing this in Jack’s best interest, I slid behind the steering wheel of my Volvo, glad I’d driven the short distance insteadof walking. I’d learned my lesson that morning when I’d walked the dogs—Jack’s usual duty—and I’d felt an odd sort of solidarity with the mushers racing the Alaskan Iditarod as the wind pierced my coat and three sweaters and froze my mascara.
I rang the doorbell of Jayne’s house, even though I had her key, too. But with Anthony temporarily living there, it felt like an invasion of privacy to just walk in. He opened the door and smiled widely, in contrast with his bedraggled appearance and bleary eyes.
“You look like you’ve just pulled an all-nighter,” I said as I stepped inside.
“That’s because I have,” he said, shutting the door behind me.
“Working on the puzzle?”
He nodded. “Yeah. It’s a little obsessive, I know. But when I do find a brick that fits, I can’t help but think the next one will be easier, and then off I go again.”
“Well, it looks like you’re doing much better—despite the exhaustion you look perfectly fine.”
“You’re right. Recuperating here at Jayne’s was a very good idea. Nobody pushing me down stairs, at least.”
“That’s a good thing,” I said as I took a step toward the dining room.
“Jayne’s not here,” he said quickly.
I stopped. “Of course not. She’s at my house with JJ and Sarah. She’s the nanny, remember?”
He gave a little chuckle. “Sorry, of course. I’m just exhausted, so I suppose my brain’s not functioning completely.”
