Skeleton's Key (Delta Crossroads Trilogy, Book 2) (12 page)

“I found her.”

Dani’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh God. I’m sorry–again.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jaymee waved her off, but the pain was evident. “Back to Ironwood. History says John James was an eccentric and passed that on to his daughter CaryAnne.”

“Cage mentioned there were stories about him. Mostly from Grace at Oak Lynn.”

“Oh yeah. He was a Major General in the Confederate Army. Fought under Stonewall Jackson. His wife died when CaryAnne was just a baby. And he raised her. She never married. There were rumors they were … too close.”

“Really? And those are still around after more than a century?”

“Shoot, girl. You’re in the South now. We hang on to our history like it’s currency.”

“But there are no more Laurents around here, are there? The Evaline line ended, and CaryAnne never had any children.”

“No, but people like Grace have generations of stories. And not just about their own families.”

Dani looked out the windows at the new morning sun. “It’s so sad. So much of Ironwood’s story is lost.”

“Or never told,” Jaymee said. “CaryAnne was a recluse, especially as she got older. Even before she got sick. I always heard she never got over her father’s death. In fact, that’s one of my favorite legends about Ironwood.”

“What?”

Jaymee grinned. “Cage will be so pissed at me for telling you this. He hates the old gossip.”

“Too bad. I happen to love it.”

“Well, Grace always told us that locals claimed CaryAnne never buried John James in the family plot in the cemetery. That she just had a funeral for an empty casket.”

Coldness swept over Dani. “Are we talking Psycho in reverse here?”

“Basically. Grace’s father always blew off the rumors, but people used to say CaryAnne kept John James’s body with her at Ironwood. She couldn’t let him go.”

“What if the skull belongs to John James?”

Jaymee nodded, her own face as excited as Dani felt. “It might all be bunk, but how cool would it be if that were true?”

“Well, I’m going to find out,” Dani said. “As soon as I’m sure Ironwood is safe from the investigators, I’m going to start a search of my own.”

*     *     *

Mid-morning had yet
to arrive, but the humidity was settling in. Dani’s lightweight tank top and khaki shorts felt heavy, and her scalp tingled with dampness. She’d yet to wear her hair down since she’d arrived in Mississippi. Maybe it was time to cut it off. New life, new look.

Dani waited nervously as Captain Gina Barnes exited her car and climbed Ironwood’s front steps. The investigator’s expression was wary, her face tired.

“Lee Walker made a case for you shadowing the investigation,” Gina said. “Pro bono, of course.”

“Of course,” Dani said. “We just wanted to make sure the house’s historical integrity is protected during the investigation.”

“He’s a good negotiator,” Gina said. “Consider yourself an independent contractor to the Adams County Sheriff’s Department. But remember this: I don’t want Ironwood to suffer any more damage either. I’m thrilled you are restoring the place. But there are two dead men who deserve justice, and I’m going to find it for them.”

“Men?” In her sleep-deprived state, surely Dani hadn’t heard correctly.

Gina nodded. “I guess you haven’t spoken to Cage. Yes, bodies were both male.”

“What about the skeleton?” Dani said.

“Medical examiner hasn’t had time to do anything with them. Right after the bones arrived, she got hit with a triple homicide. Now this.”

“So the bones go unidentified until she doesn’t have a fresh death? Good luck with that.” Dani understood the murders took priority, but she still felt bad for the unidentified skeleton.

“I said the same thing. She’s going to see if the anthropology students at Ole Miss want to take a look. At the very least, they’ll be able to tell us how old they are and the sex.”

“Jeb thinks they’re likely old.”

Gina nodded her agreement. “I know, and he’s probably right. But we need an expert to verify.”

“These men,” Dani continued, “did the medical examiner have any idea how they were killed?”

“She can’t tell without a full autopsy, but it may have been blunt force trauma.”

“Is Cage still a suspect?”

“Sorry,” Gina shook her head. “You’re still a civilian, and I’ve already said too much.” She checked her watch. “Landers will be here any minute, and then we’re opening that butler’s pantry.”

The rankness of
the basement had seeped into Ironwood’s main floor. Dani covered her nose and tried not to gag. Maybe enduring the heat outside was a better option. Gina handed her a white paper facemask.

“It won’t eliminate the smell entirely, but it’ll take the edge off.”

Dani hurried to slip the mask on. “Will it ever go away?”

“Eventually.” Gina ordered her to stay in the foyer while she checked the basement to make sure no one had entered during the night. Between the closeness of the mask and lack of sleep, Dani suddenly realized how tired she was. The last time she’d slept had been sometime yesterday morning on the flight from Indianapolis. Her eyes drooped, and she swayed on the spot.

“You can lie down in the parlor if you want.” Gina had returned. “At least until Landers shows up and we can get started.”

“I’m all right.”

“You look like a mud pie that’s been sitting too long in the sun.”

Dani figured there was an insult somewhere in there, but she was too tired to decipher. “It’s been a long twenty-four hours.”

“That’s right. You just got here yesterday.” Gina’s grim smile looked forced. “How do you like it so far?”

“It’s a dream come true.” Dani hoped her sarcasm wasn’t taken the wrong way.

The captain snorted, leaning against the wall. “I’m sorry this is your introduction to Roselea. It’s not a good representation of us.”

“Thanks. But it hasn’t all been bad.”

Gina looked skeptical. “If you say so. I have to ask, what brought you here? I did my research. You left a nice job in Indianapolis to take what some might say is a lesser position in a tiny town in what I like to call the Southern Oven Belt. Least it is this time of year. That’s a big change, especially when you don’t have any friends or family living here.”

“My mother was my only family. She died several months ago. Diabetes.” Dani hoped saying the words more often would ease the pain, but so far the idea had failed miserably. “We always wanted to come down here, restore a plantation. I promised her I’d do it.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. And even sorrier for this mess.”

“Not your fault, Captain.”

“I understand why you’re so protective of this place now,” Gina said.

“It’s all I’ve got.” Dani swallowed against the knot in her throat.

“Is there something else?”

This time, Gina’s smile was genuine, reaching her eyes and softening the stern planes of her face. If she didn’t pull her hair back so tightly or hold herself so rigidly, Gina would be an attractive woman. But most likely a less successful police officer.

“I think it’s great you’re saving Ironwood. At least you’re able to save something, right?” A car door slammed, and Gina glanced out the window. “There’s Landers. Let me deal with him. He’s going to be pissed you’re tagging along.” She headed outside, leaving Dani staring, her mind racing to read between the lines.

The captain had been talking about Dani’s mother. Ironwood, clinging to its last gasps of life, represented her mother and everything the two of them had ever wanted. And now she was gone, leaving Dani alone in the world and trying to find her way.

Damned hot tears welled in her eyes. She missed her mother so much her pain was cliché. The anguish hit her as hard as it did the day she’d watched her mother die in the sterile hospital room. Her kidneys had shut down, and the dialysis no longer worked. Her mother–the strongest, the best person she’d ever known–died because her body poisoned itself. She’d held Dani’s hand in the last few moments, her pain eased by morphine. Selfishly, Dani had prayed for her to hang on. And when her mother had pulled her final, gasping breath, Dani had laid her head on her chest and sobbed until she was sick.

She pressed her hand against the crisp mask to keep from crying out. Not here. She wouldn’t break down here.

Lander’s shouting brought her back to the moment. Gina raised her voice as well, the authoritative tone unmistakable. Dani peeked out the window to see the short captain standing toe-to-toe with the big investigator, neck craned back to see him. She barked a laugh through her tears.

She could grow to like Gina Barnes.

Landers stomped onto the porch and into the house with Gina walking confidently behind him. He stopped to glare at Dani. “Why didn’t you open the pantry when you first got here? More importantly, why didn’t Foster?”

“Cage didn’t have the keys for the pantry,” Dani said. “The church has several rooms locked up.”

“And who
did
have those keys?”

“Lee Walker.” Gina and Landers exchanged a look, and Dani realized Lee had to be included in their list of potential suspects. “Church gave a set to him since he’s been in charge of the house. But other board members could have a set. We’re going to have to talk to every one of them.”

Landers nodded. “Let’s get that pantry opened, then.”

Dani’s fingers were
clumsy as she slid the key into the rusting lock. “Lee said the butler’s pantry has been locked up for at least ten years.”

“If the killer used this as an entry point to the basement, we know that’s a bunch of bullshit.” Landers hovered too close, his coffee breath tainting her space.

“Does it look like the lock’s been recently used?” Gina said.

“It’s hard to tell for sure, but given the marks…” Dani twisted the key, and the mechanism easily turned. “It works awfully well for something that hasn’t been used in a decade.”

Dense silence filled the air, as though the house itself were holding its breath in anticipation. Slowly, she pushed the door open and braced herself for the odor of a long-closed up room, filled with the scent of dust and rotting wood and perhaps, death. Instead, the smell of cleaning solution overpowered the faint scent of old age.

Lingering after more than ten years? Not likely.

Shrouded from windows, the butler’s pantry was bathed in charcoal-colored darkness. She felt on the wall for the light switch she’d been told was on the right.

A flash of light, followed by a loud pop as the bulb died.

“Shit,” Landers grumped.

“I don’t know where Cage keeps the lightbulbs,” Dani said.

“I’ll get the spotlights in the basement.” Landers stalked away.

Gina took his place and shined her flashlight into the room. Dani squinted to see. It looked to be about twelve by ten. Her entire stomach flipped, and a familiar sense of urgency kicked in. She needed to get inside and have a closer look. Directly across from her was a built-in sideboard made of dark wood, probably more mahogany or possibly cypress, with what appeared to be a marble countertop. Several glass doors hung above the marble, likely where the family kept their fine stemware.

Dani stepped forward. Gina caught her by the elbow.

“You can’t go in there. Don’t touch anything, either.”

Landers returned. He plugged both large spotlights into an outlet in the kitchen and then strung the extension cord to the doorway of the butler’s pantry.

“Excuse me.” He moved past Dani and flipped the lights on.

For a moment, all Dani could see was bright light as her eyes adjusted. Then, the glorious cupboards lining the northern wall, their hardware intact. The etchings on the glass. The marble countertop. A fine sheen of dust, not the heavy layer she would have expected. Her gaze landed on the sink.

“The sink has been restored.”

“What?” Gina asked.

Breathing too fast in the sweltering space, Dani collected her thoughts. “That is a mahogany topped double bowl pantry sink, probably circa 1880s. It may have even started out in the winter kitchen and was then moved up here. That was common. The bowls are nickel plated, and at least one of those faucets is original. And the entire unit is in excellent condition.”

“Thanks for the lesson,” Landers said. “Room hasn’t been used in years. Why wouldn’t the sink be in good condition?”

“Nonuse can cause just as much damage as years of use. If someone hadn’t taken care of this thing in recent years, there would be rust and discoloration on the porcelain. It’s been cleaned up.”

“So maybe the killer used it to wash his hands.”

“To look like this, requires a special cleaner. Someone took care of this. Someone who knew what they were doing.” She took a second look around the room. “All the cabinets look to have been cleaned as well. Someone’s had access.”

“Clearly,” Gina said. “Look at the rest of the room, Dani.”

The cartwheels in her stomach came to a screeching halt.

Tiny, dried droplets on the floor, and then, a few feet away, a large, dark stain on the wood floor. Blood? Is that why the room smelled so strongly of cleaning fluid? The spots looked to have been scrubbed, but the wood was porous and unforgiving.