Page 31 of The Attic on Queen Street
“I’d say hundreds. And since everything else appeared to be Victorian, I immediately thought they might have been from—”
“A charm string,” I finished for her.
She smiled. “Exactly. Have you seen one before?”
“Not a complete one. But I know what they are.”
Meghan looked at her watch and then stood. “I’m sorry—I’ve got to get to class. It was nice seeing you. And if there’s anything else...” She gave me a worried look.
“Don’t worry—I won’t get you in trouble. But I will talk with Sophie. I’m curious as to whom all the stuff belonged to.”
“Me, too. We haven’t gotten that far into the research yet.” She smiled. “I’ll see you later.” She took a few steps and then abruptly turned around. “I’ve been meaning to ask—was that Beau Ryan at your house the other night? I was riding my bike down Tradd Street and I could have sworn I saw him leaving your house.”
I looked at her with surprise. “Yes, actually. It was. How do you know Beau?”
She didn’t answer right away. Finally, she said, “We dated for a few months last year. I even went to visit his family in New Orleans during a week off from school.”
“Must have been serious, then.”
Meghan shrugged. “He’s a great guy, and I really liked him. It’s just...” She stopped.
I kept silent, willing her to go on.
“It’s just, his family is sort of... strange. Don’t get me wrong. His grandparents were warm and welcoming, and they have this beautiful Italianate Revival house in the Garden District, on Prytania. It’s been in Beau’s family since the early eighteen forties. Absolutely gorgeous and filled with old family antiques.”
“Sounds lovely—except for the ‘old’ part,” I said lightly, but I was already bracing for what she was about to say.
“Oh, it is. But...” She bit her lip. “It had very odd vibes, you know? Like your house on Tradd. But... darker. Beau said I was free to explore—I mean, who could resist all that gorgeous old house with all of its nooks and crannies?”
I almost raised my hand, but didn’t want to interrupt her.
“But there were two doors that were kept locked, and when I asked Beau about them, he just said his grandmother kept those rooms locked because they were crammed with overflow from the attic. Which I understand, but why lock the doors?”
“Well, they certainly wouldn’t be the first elderly eccentric couple living in a spooky old house, would they?” I said, even managing a little laugh.
“No, I suppose not. They also own an antique store in the Quarter.” She swallowed. “But I don’t think antiques is all they sell there.”
My eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?”
“I shouldn’t be telling you all this. I’m not a gossiping kind of person, but when I saw you with Beau...”
I made a motion of zipping my lips. “I promise you that this stays with me. Although I might share it with Jack,” I added hastily. “But he can also be trusted.”
She seemed to consider this for a moment before continuing. “So I don’t think it’s drugs or weapons, if that’s what you’re wondering. No evidence of that, but if you met Mr.and Mrs.Ryan you’d understand. But that back room, well, lots of weird stuff there. Tons and tons of old books and other things I couldn’t identify. I was only in there once because Beau let me in, but it was also kept locked all the time. And lots of people would come in the main entrance and walk straight to the back, and I don’t think they were there to shop for antiques.”
I nodded, remembering what Beau had said about his grandmother’s Frozen Charlotte collection. “Beau said he does their website and he has some of the stuff on there.”
“Trust me, what’s on the website is a small fraction of what’s in there. And those creepy dolls aren’t the worst of it.” She glanced at her watch again. “Sorry—I really do have to run. It was good talking to you. It’slike having another mom when I’m away from home.” With a smile, she left.
I wanted to shout after her that I was barely past forty and not nearly old enough to be her mother, but I couldn’t find the energy. I sat back in my chair, my appetite completely gone, my mind running in so many directions, I wondered if Jayne would allow me to include it in my daily exercise goal. I stared down the street and spotted Veronica walking toward me and I waved, then picked up my phone to text Jack. A glimmer of excitement coursed through me as I contemplated working with Jack again, no longer having to come up with an excuse to see him.
I opened the screen, then stopped when I saw that I had a waiting text with a phone number I didn’t recognize with a local 843 area code. I clicked on the message and my throat tightened as I read the words in all caps, almost hearing them shouted in my ear.
SHE DESERVED IT
CHAPTER 10
When I returned home from work later that afternoon, I almost drove past number 55 because of the large box truck blocking my driveway, and the people scurrying around the front yard and piazza like ants at a picnic, dragging thick ropelike cords through the open front door.
