Page 124 of The Attic on Queen Street
I nodded as we both became aware that the clock had finally stopped chiming and the Frozen Charlotte and her coffin were gone.
CHAPTER 35
Jack and I sat on the garden bench under a blanket, pushing the bundled-up twins in their newer and bigger swings. They had grown so much over the past eight months that my father decided that, as part of the garden refurbishment, he’d gift JJ and Sarah with swings that should take them at least through their preschool years. I hated to think of them growing up that quickly, but as Nola began her senior year at Ashley Hall, we’d come to accept the inevitable.
Two things that hadn’t changed were JJ’s attachment to his whisk, currently clutched in his hand, and Sarah’s constant chattering even when she was by herself. I wasn’t sure how, or if, either thing mattered to their futures, but I wasn’t going to worry about it. Jack and I would take it in stride together.
My phone beeped and I looked down to see another text from Rebecca. Despite her hopes that the shower would change her marriage, it had not. She blamed it on my desertion, as if I’d planned Nola’s abduction by a murderer and the ensuing house fire. Still, she texted me several times a day from her new house on Kiawah Island, asking me for advice on mothering her infant daughter, Tiffani. I’d tried to dissuade her from saddling her daughter with that name and spelling, but like everythingRebecca, she wanted to do it her way. Including her sensational divorce, in which she’d taken Marc for everything that hadn’t been confiscated by the Feds when he’d been arrested in a surprise Sunday morning takedown the week after the shower. Jack and I had happily lent Rebecca the funds needed to hire the best lawyers. It was the least we could do, I told her. Because we were family. I put my phone on silent, not wanting to spoil this perfect morning with Jack and our children.
“Hello? Anybody out here?” Suzy Dorf came through the garden gate, latching it behind her. My stomach no longer clenched when I saw a text from her, and now I even considered her a friend. Although still overly inquisitive and sometimes downright nosy, she’d proven to be a strong ally in our battle with Marc Longo.
Jack stood, offering his seat on the bench, but she refused. “Really, Jack, sit back down. I only wanted to stop by for a minute to give you this.” Suzy handed us a copy of the morning paper. “I thought you two should be the first to see it.”
I leaned over Jack’s shoulder and read the bold-faced headline.
LOCAL BUSINESSMAN MARC LONGO FOUND GUILTY OF RACKETEERING, TAX EVASION, AND ART THEFT
I looked up, unable to stop smiling. Marc deserved everything he had coming to him, and I couldn’t find a scrap of sympathy for him.
“It’s been a long time coming,” Suzy said. “If you hadn’t made the introduction with Anthony Longo, I would never have had the access to other insiders and documents. It turned out to be a much bigger case than I’d originally thought. Marc’s going to get a lot of years behind bars, that’s for sure. And to think I was only out for a little revenge for my baby brother when this all started.”
Suzy reached into her tote and pulled out a stack of newspapers and handed them to Jack. “I thought you might like extras to give to friends. Or wallpaper your office.” She grinned. “By the way, I really loved theTodayshow piece they did on you. The video clip of you two findingthe diamonds at Magnolia Cemetery was fascinating, and the scene where the dog bones and children’s toys were added to Evangeline’s grave was a nice touch. Great promo for your appearance onTreasure Hunters, too. I just hope that Marc has a TV in his jail cell so he can watch it.”
“We can only hope,” I said, giving both children’s swings a little push.
Her expression changed to one of concern. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask: How’s Nola doing?”
“Surprisingly well,” I said. “Her grades are great, and she’s excited about participating in the Ashley Hall Christmas play. She misses her friend Lindsey, who’s taking a year off from school to take a sailboat voyage around the world with her mother. They both needed to get away. There’s a full crew and they’re learning to sail. We’ve received a few postcards, and they sound like they’re having a blast.”
“Even better,” Jack said, “Dr.Wallen-Arasi is so busy with rebuilding their house while they’re gone that she’s leaving us alone. She’s doing her best to incorporate what the fire didn’t destroy into the new build, so I’m sure it will be a wonderful home for Veronica and Lindsey when they return. In the meantime, I’m enjoying the temporary reprieve from constant construction.” He smiled with satisfaction.
Suzy nodded. “So, this is completely off-the-record, but that boy who saved Nola, Beau—did the fire forge a relationship between them?”
“Yes,” I said.
“No,” Jack said at the same time.
We shared a glance before I tried to explain. “Jack and I think Nola’s constant bickering with Beau Ryan is helping her refocus. We’re starting to think that he irritates her on purpose just for this reason. It doesn’t help that she blames him for the loss of her guitar. It belonged to her mother, and I’m sure it’s made Nola grieve for her all over again. We replaced it with a brand-new one that she picked out herself, but she says it’s hard for her to write music with it because she can’t feel her mother’s presence.”
Jack frowned. “Yes, well, I think Beau is enjoying the bickering. It’sa way some guys show they’re interested. As long as it doesn’t go any further than that, I’m fine with it.”
“What’s wrong with Beau?” Suzy asked, the gleam of a journalist’s curiosity twinkling in her eye. We’d given her exclusive access for interviews with us and Nola following the fire, which most likely accounted for her continued interest.
Jack and I shared a glance, both of us remembering the bizarre moment in the attic before the door opened. In the intervening eight months, we’d asked Beau about it more than once, but he never strayed from his assertion that he’d shouted out only in frustration, which must have coincided with Michael opening the front door, creating enough of a draft to push open the attic door.
That didn’t explain the chest of drawers sliding across the attic floor, but I wanted to believe that Jayne and I had given Adrienne enough strength to do that and thus buy us a few precious minutes before the flames could reach the door.
Jack shifted uncomfortably. “Beau is a nice guy. But just not the right guy for Nola. Besides, she’s too young for any kind of a relationship.”
“Yes, well, she heads to college next fall, right?”
Jack groaned. “Yes. Despite acceptances to the College of Charleston, Clemson, and the University of South Carolina, she’s decided on Tulane in New Orleans. She insists it has nothing to do with Beau, who will be returning to New Orleans after his graduation from the American College of the Building Arts.”
“Interesting,” Suzy said. “I can’t wait to hear about how Nola enjoys New Orleans. It’s very similar to Charleston, but I’ve heard several Charlestonians refer to the Crescent City as Charleston’s slightly younger and more tawdry sister. At least she’ll be used to the heat and humidity and the flying palmetto bugs. Except in New Orleans they don’t sugarcoat it—they just call them flying cockroaches.”
She saw my expression and hoisted her tote higher on her shoulder. “I guess I should be going. Sorry—I didn’t mean to stay so long. You ready for tomorrow, Melanie?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
