Page 106 of The Lady on Esplanade
I listened to the clang of dishes from the kitchen as I hopped to the living room.As I sat down on the sofa, my gaze fell on the box, its unsealed flaps folded into one another.Being my father’s daughter, I couldn’t not open it now, especially after the conversation with Camille.I slipped down to my knees, crawled over to the box, and pulled open the flaps.
The box was only partially filled, making it easy to move things around and see what was contained inside.I laughed when I noticed a game controller, knowing how much its absence must have frustratedHenry.That was the only item from the house, as far as I could tell; the rest of the objects were office items—including a stapler, a box of paper clips, a rubber-band-wrapped stack of hangtags, several catalogs for upcoming estate sales, and an inventory book—the pilfering of all of which was intended to annoy rather than harm.I admired Trevor’s cleverness as much as I appreciated his victim selection, and I couldn’t help smiling as I rummaged through the box, almost laughing out loud when I found opened bags of Doritos and Oreos and a six-pack of Coca-Cola cans.Henry would not have been happy being deprived of his stash of junk food.
I’d reached the bottom of the box when I spotted a familiar cloth bag, closed with a string at the top.It was identical to the two bags that had been given to Beau and me and that I’d rediscovered in my purse and put away in the desk drawer.I pulled the bag out of the box, feeling hard, round stones through the thin cloth, and I opened the top.Three crystals—one pink, one green, and one blue—lay nestled inside.
I stared at the bag, confused.Had Henry gone to see Madame Zoe?He didn’t strike me as the type of person who would seek out a fortune teller, but I’d misread people before.I just had to think about Michael Hebert to confirm that.I’d dropped the bag back into the box and was folding the flaps up when Camille spoke.
“You ready to go?”
I looked up to see her in the kitchen doorway, drying her hands on one of Jolene’sWizard of Ozdish towels.
“Yep—ready.”I crawled back to the sofa to pull myself up.“I was curious about what was in the box.Nothing valuable—just bits and pieces—but I can understand why Henry would be annoyed.”
Camille frowned.“I just don’t understand why Trevor would want to do that.Perhaps Christopher should have a talk with Trevor’s grandmother.”
I looked at her to see if she might be joking, but I quicklydismissed the thought.Camille didn’t seem the type to joke.Or, apparently, to find fault with her husband.
“Nola, before I forget, I know you and Beau aren’t getting along right now, so if you’d rather give me the rings to hold until Mimi’s ready, I’d be more than happy to help.That will save you the awkwardness of dealing with Beau.I promise they’ll be safe with me.”
“Actually, I would—but I don’t know where they are.”I wasn’t sure why I lied.Probably because she was married to Henry, and I didn’t trust him.I gave her a reassuring smile.“After the attempted break-in I asked Sarah to hide them, and I guess I’ve been too distracted to find out exactly where she put them.”I pulled out my phone.“Hang on—I can ask.”
I called Melanie’s landline in Charleston, knowing that nobody would be there to answer it, and I let it ring several times before hanging up.“She must have the ringer off.”
“Can you call Jolene and ask her to pass her phone to Sarah?”
“I could, but I really don’t want to bother them.It can wait.And no need to worry—Beau and Jaxson fixed the door and added more locks, and I’ll set the alarm on our way out.I’ll ask Sarah later.”
Camille slid on her jacket and picked up the box.“Don’t want to forget this.I’ll go first and open the car doors.I’ll be right back to help you down the stairs.”
“Thank you,” I said, stifling a yawn.“Sorry,” I said.“I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Understandable.I’ll be right back.”
It was nearly three o’clock when we pulled out of the driveway and onto Broadway—plenty of time before sunset, around five o’clock.I sat with my leg propped up in the backseat, the box with its curious contents stored in the trunk.
Not surprisingly, Camille was a cautious driver, staying below the speed limit and taking corners more slowly than necessary.It took us fifteen minutes longer to get to Esplanade than it took with Jolene orBeau at the wheel, and I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I wasn’t aware we were there until Camille shook my shoulder.I never slept in cars, probably because of my childhood, during the lean times of which a car was our only shelter and someone needed to be on the alert.Even on the long bus ride from Los Angeles to Charleston I didn’t remember actually falling asleep.
Now I found it difficult to hold my eyes open, every limb revolting at the notion of being forced to move.I wondered if this was a natural reaction to physical trauma, and if my brain was just now trying to catch up.
Camille had parallel parked at the curb, making it easy for me to exit the car.We stood there for a minute looking at the faded facade, the house backlit by the late-afternoon sun, its front in shadow.The brown grass and the dying leaves still clutching tree branches gave an appearance of a house in mourning and waiting for a miracle.
“I’m sure it was beautiful at one time,” Camille said.“I can see why you’re so attached to it.”After handing me my crutches, she said, “Give me your key and I’ll go open the door.”
I did as instructed, then slid my backpack over my shoulder before making my way through the door and into the front room.“I’ll be quick,” I said.“I just need to get something from one of the bedrooms.”
“Take your time—it’s still daylight, and I want to see the house.Although it’s such a shame.”
I wanted to ask her what she meant, but she was already climbing the steps to the second floor.I paused at the threshold of the kitchen, remembering the feeling from before, the sense that something evil was coming down the stairs toward us.Which was foolish right now, since Camille had already made it up the stairs and was now walking slowly around the room upstairs without any sign of fear.
I made my way to the closed armoire, turned the key, and opened it.The doll had disappeared from Jolene’s car and it hadn’t shown up anywhere else, so I fully expected to find it where I’d first discoveredit—especially since hearing what Sarah had said about the evil entity wanting the doll here.The doll—or whoever was manipulating it—seemed to be of a different opinion.
I lifted my hand to open the small compartment at the top, where I’d first found the doll.I froze, my fingers suspended in midair.
Words had been written with a fingertip in the dust on the mirror.My dry tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I read the three words:FIND THE STONES.
I jerked back, knocking over my crutches and causing them to crash to the floor, the sound deafening in the almost-empty room.The words hadn’t been there before.I would have seen them.
Looking past them, I opened the small door.There was the doll, its glassy blue eyes staring at me, the expression almost challenging.I grabbed hold of her, and I could have sworn she blinked at me, maybe because she was aware of what I was about to do.
