A Thousand Yesteryears (23 page)

Finally, after what seemed an inordinate amount of time, Ryan straightened with a huff of breath. Sweat glistened in his bangs, matting several strands to his forehead. His blue T-shirt was soaked at the collar, and his jeans bore streaks of dirt. “How deep do we plan on digging?” The pit they had created already reached a depth of approximately four feet. “Sooner or later we’ve got to face this is a waste of time.”

Katie lobbed an irritated glare in his direction. “Quit if you want to, but I know Wendy didn’t run away. I’m not giving up.”

“Look, Katie, I know you’re upset, but—”

“Hey, I think I found something.” Caden tapped the point of his shovel carefully against the ground. “I think there’s something buried here.”

Ryan palmed sweat from his forehead. “Probably just another tree root or more rocks.”

“This isn’t rock.” Kneeling, Caden held the shovel at his side, using his free hand to brush away bits of loose earth. Gradually, something took shape under his fingertips.

The edge of another stone? A surge of disappointment flooded Eve, only to be replaced by a sense of delayed horror seconds later. As Caden continued to work away the soil, the shape beneath his hand formed into the upper arc of an eye socket.

“Holy shit!” Swiftly, Ryan knelt to help his brother.

Moving to Katie’s side, Eve wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulders, the two of them staring down at the ugly skull taking form in the earth. It wasn’t long before the other eye socket and the dome of the cranium emerged.

Ryan grabbed his brother’s wrist, preventing him from freeing more dirt. “We can’t just dig this up.”

“You’re right.” Sitting back on his haunches, Caden dragged a dirty hand through his hair. “Even if this isn’t Wendy Lynch, the remains belong to someone. You need to let Pete Weston know so he can get a forensics team in here.”

“It’s Wendy.” Katie’s voice was flat, bordering on emotionless. The pain in her eyes spoke volumes. “Having Sheriff Weston exhume the remains won’t make a difference. I know it’s her.”

“Katie, I’m so sorry,” Eve whispered.

Caden stood. “If it is Wendy, she deserves to have her remains disinterred properly.”

“There could be evidence here of how she died.” Ryan seemed relieved to have his brother side with him but his words were plainly for Katie when he spoke. “We could damage the bones by continuing to dig and possibly compromise evidence that could brand this a crime scene.” He stepped closer, taking Katie’s hand in his. “If this is your sister, then she deserves whatever help we can give in finding her killer. Let me do this properly, Katie, through the proper channels.”

She hesitated, clearly torn between proving the bones belonged to Wendy and wanting justice for her sister. At last she nodded. “Promise me if it is Wendy, you’ll do all you can to find her killer.”

Ryan nodded, his gaze for Katie alone. “I swear.”

* * * *

Eve found it difficult concentrating on work the following day after everything that had happened. Fortunately, Katie had scheduled Sharon Tanner, their back-up employee for the front desk to work dayshift. With Roger Layton’s birthday party taking place that night, Eve’s business-savvy manager had left her and Eve free for any last minute party prep that needed to be addressed.

Walking into the lobby, Eve found Sharon behind the desk, her nose buried in a pop magazine with Steve Perry and Journey on the cover. Not up to arguing the merits of looking busy, especially when the hotel was quiet, she cleared her throat. “Have you seen Katie?”

The girl colored and lowered the magazine. “Oh, uh…hi, Eve. I think she’s in the kitchen talking to the cook—um, chef.”

Eve nodded, noting the correction. It was silly, but part of offering an alternative to the chain hotels across the river in Gallipolis had included hiring a head chef for catered events and the café. She had a lot riding on Roger’s party. As a bank vice-president, he’d be hobnobbing with city officials and businessmen of note who might bring other business if they enjoyed the event.

“Oh.” Sharon turned a page as Eve prepared to head for the kitchen. “By the way, Mr. Layton is in the ballroom. He came in earlier wanting to see the layout. Since you and Katie weren’t around, and since it’s his party, I didn’t see any harm in letting him up there.”

“Okay.” Eve would have done the same, though she most certainly would have accompanied him in the event he had questions or comments. Then again, Sharon wasn’t equipped to handle either and would have had to refer matters to her.

Finding Katie leaving the kitchen, she did a quick visual inspection of her friend, spying a telltale smudge of shadow beneath her eyes. Clearly, she hadn’t slept well, not that Eve could blame her. It wasn’t every day you came across bones that most likely belonged to your missing sister.

“Good morning.” She tried to sound cheerful, sensing Katie’s subdued mood. “How are things going with the party menu?”

“On schedule.” Katie offered a weak smile in return. “Jack has everything under control. With his culinary skills, I’d be surprised if Roger Layton has anything negative to say about tonight.”

Jack Devin, a Philadelphia transplant, was the hotel’s recently hired head chef. Fortunately for Eve, he’d fallen in love with a local girl and had shown up a week ago sniffing for employment after moving to the area.

“How about you?” She hooked her arm through Katie’s and steered her toward the lobby. “After everything that’s happened, do you still feel up to helping with the party?”

“Of course. Besides….” Coming to a halt, Katie tugged at her ponytail. It was a trait Eve had come to recognize as a nervous habit. “There’s nothing I can do for Wendy right now, and thinking about those bones in the Witch Wood will only drive me crazy.”

“Ryan’s working on it.”

“I know he is.”

“Did you say anything to your mom?”

Katie shook her head. “I won’t. Not until I know it’s Wendy for certain. I just hope the way rumors fly, it doesn’t leak out and she hears about it from someone else. At least everyone is busy chattering about the Mothman photo right now.”

“Mothman photo? Did I miss something?”

“You don’t know?” In the lobby, Katie crossed to the sofa grouping below the front windows and grabbed a paper from the table. Whatever she planned to show Eve, it apparently wasn’t newsworthy enough for Sharon to tear her eyes from her magazine. At the desk, the girl was still busy poring over Steve Perry.

“Here.” Katie produced the local newspaper with a flourish. “Today’s headline, courtesy of our hotel guests, George and Glenda Whitmore. They’re overnight celebrities.”

Eve’s mouth dropped as she stared at the front page. The headline emblazoned across the top read
Mothman Captured in Photograph
. Below that was a large grainy image of…something.

Frowning, Eve turned the paper, hoping to spy a form among the wash of charcoal, white, and gray which resembled nothing so much as an elongated blob.

“You have to tilt your head.” Katie demonstrated as she traced her finger over a corner. “This is a wing tip. See how it curves down? And this, part of the body.” Another trace of her finger outlined a thin cylindrical shape. “It’s a partial shot. According to Glenda, she was running and screaming her head off when she accidentally clicked the camera, certain she only had minutes to live.”

Eve looked at her friend. “I don’t really see…”

“I don’t either, but apparently it’s been picked up on a news wire and is being touted as the Holy Grail of Mothman evidence. While we were digging up bones last night, Glenda and George were at the police station sharing their story.”

“Which is?” Eve still couldn’t see anything in the picture. Maybe with a stretch of imagination, and if she tilted her head as Katie said…

“They were poking around the TNT out near the pond where Amos was killed when the Mothman made an appearance. According to Glenda, they barely made it back to their car. She said it chased them down Potters Creek Road, then veered off about a mile from town. They went straight to the sheriff—and then to the newspaper office. The lab developed the photo overnight.”

“Did anyone else see it?”

Katie shook her head.

“Hmm.” Undecided if she believed someone had managed to capture a photograph of the elusive creature, Eve couldn’t find it within herself to dismiss the sighting as folly. Not after what Caden had told her.

Even as the thought surfaced, the phone rang, and Sharon answered with a chirpy “Good morning, Parrish Hotel.”

“Sure, I can book those dates for you.” Sharon set her magazine aside in favor of the reservation book. “Yes. We’re only about five miles from the TNT.”

Katie raised a brow as they listened to the conversation. “It’s been on and off like that all morning. Mostly locals from neighboring towns, but I have a feeling it won’t be long before we’re flooded with people from all over hoping to catch a glimpse of the Mothman.”

“The hotel could use the business.” All the more reason for her to stay in Point Pleasant. The Parrish Hotel was beginning to feel like
her
legacy, not just her family’s. It was a business she wanted to succeed.

“It looks like we’re finalizing Roger’s party just in time,” she said to Katie. “Oh, and speaking of which…Sharon said he’s poking around the ballroom, checking things out for later tonight. Want to say hello with me?”

“To that man?” Katie frowned, but nodded nonetheless. “Sure. Why not?”

Moments later, they entered the ballroom to find Roger Layton lingering inside—a tall man who stood in the center, hands clasped behind his back. Judging by his commanding posture, if there was something he disliked, Eve would certainly hear about it. The way he surveyed the room she would have thought he owned it. With a mental reminder he and his wife were paying a sizeable chunk of change for the party, she plastered a smile on her face and stepped forward.

“Mr. Layton.” She extended her hand as he turned to face her. “I’m Eve Parrish. I don’t know if you remember me. It’s been many years.”

“Eve.” He smiled smoothly, revealing even, white teeth. “Look at you, all grown up.” His gaze swept her in quick appraisal, the touch of his eyes strangely unsettling. She had nothing but vague memories of him, yet her father’s written evaluation rang in her head:
I don’t like him.

“You have your mother’s eyes,” Roger said.

“Thank you.”

His own were brown like his hair. Despite the relative heat of early June, he wore a crisply tailored business suit, the light cream color complementing his gold-striped tie.

“I believe you know my manager, Katie Lynch.” Eve indicated her friend.

Roger nodded in Katie’s direction but turned his attention back to Eve without as much as a verbal greeting for Katie. “You’ve done wonders with the setting.”

Eve frowned. “Actually, Katie took care of that.” She made a point of Katie’s hard work, given that Roger’s quick glance bordered on condescending. Her friend had an unjustified reputation in the town, and it grated on her nerves to see her dismissed so haughtily. As if accustomed to such snubs, Katie moved away to inspect the silverware on a nearby table.

“I trust everything meets with your satisfaction,” Eve said to Roger.

Undaunted by the coolness of her tone, he made a show of letting his gaze roam the room. “Quite. I know Lillian likes all of this fuss. Personally, I would have preferred a quiet birthday celebration at home. I was hoping she hadn’t gotten carried away with decorations and whatnot. Thankfully, it seems acceptable.”

Odd. According to Lillian, Roger was the one who expected a party and had felt the buffet wasn’t fancy enough. His gaze strayed to Katie who fiddled with the floral arrangement on the nearest table. A flicker of something touched his eyes that made Eve uncomfortable. Just that quickly, he refocused.

“How rude of me not to immediately offer my condolences about your aunt.”

Flustered by the swift change of topic, Eve fought to find her voice. “Thank you.”

“You do remember she and I were engaged?”

“Yes. I was sad when she broke it off. I wanted her to be happy.”

“I was crushed.” He didn’t sound anything of the sort.

Katie dropped silverware onto a plate, causing them both to glance sharply in her direction.

“Sorry.” Lowering her gaze, she picked up the flatware and began placing it back on the table, taking care to arrange each dinner setting precisely. A marked tightness hovered about her mouth.

“It seems so long ago,” Eve said to Roger. “I never understood why Aunt Rosie broke off the engagement so abruptly.” The collapse of the Silver Bridge had altered everyone’s life, but the tragedy shouldn’t have stolen her aunt’s chance for happiness. “I thought the two of you were happy together.”

“We were. It’s a mystery to me as well.” Roger shrugged, then swiftly brushed the observation aside. “In any event, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Extending his hand, he flashed another polished smile. “I’ll look forward to enjoying the party tonight.”

After he’d left, Eve turned to Katie. “You look perturbed.”

“Does it show?” Setting aside a cloth napkin, Katie shook her head. “I seriously doubt he was crushed when Rosie broke off their engagement. He married Lillian six months later.”

“Only six?” Eve had imagined him devastated and broken-hearted, reluctant to strike up another relationship, at least not so quickly. It must have been horrible for Aunt Rosie to see him remarried so soon. “I didn’t realize it happened so quickly.”

“Maybe that’s why your aunt never married.” Katie gave the napkin a final fluff. “Between losing her brother when the bridge collapsed and having Roger marry so soon, she had too much heartache in her life.”

Eve pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’m sure it didn’t help that my mother left, too, packing us off to Pennsylvania.”

“I can understand why she didn’t want to stay.” Katie sat beside her. “I didn’t lose anyone when the bridge went down, but it changed everything about Point Pleasant. Then Bruce Mechanical closed, and so many people were left without work. Overnight, Point Pleasant became a shadow of what it had been. There are ghosts in this town, Eve, and not all of them have to do with dying.”