Skeleton's Key (Delta Crossroads Trilogy, Book 2) (24 page)

“Man, Cage. You’re asking a lot.” Billy glanced back at Jeb’s desk, and Cage could tell he wanted to talk.

“Please, as a favor to me.” Cage gave him one final push. “I’d owe you big time.”

“You’ll just tell your parents?” Billy said.

“Scout’s honor.” Cage winked at him.

“If I get pinched for this,” Billy pointed a long finger at Cage, “I’m telling everyone you pressured me. Got it?”

“Agreed.”

The intern finally nodded. “All right. The medical examiner thinks both men have been dead for less than a year.”

Anxiety latched onto Cage. “I thought there was a receipt that was eighteen months old?”

“Yeah, and the M.E. at first thought that coincided with what she was seeing. But then she started the real examination, and she’s changed her estimate on the time of death. It’s not definite,” Billy said. “And time of death is really hard to establish, especially when the body has been left for so long. You know that.”

He did know that. But the medical examiner’s theory didn’t help his case for innocence. “Do they have any leads on the victims’ identities?”

“The first man–the one Dani found–was in a lot better shape. The medical examiner was able to get a partial print and is working on an I.D.”

“Great. Anything else?”

“This is the confidential part.” Billy rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around Cage at the door yet again.

“You have my word.”

“She found something in one guy’s pocket.” Billy’s voice was so low Cage had to lean forward to hear.

“Something to identify him?”

“Not exactly.” Billy circled around Cage to shut the door. “A cameo brooch. And it’s old.”

H
ours later, drenched
with sweat and a gritty sheen of dust, Dani had found nothing in the closet or any part of the master bedroom. There were no hidden panels, movable slats, or secret compartments. Every plank in the hardwood floor held firm. The many drawers of the built in bureau were empty, and the armoire didn’t open into a hidden area like a house she’d once restored in Indiana.

There was nothing.

Landers had arrived with the crime scene technician in tow, but from what Dani overheard during her search, the room was clean of prints. They would process the cot and bedding in hopes of a forensics hit, but it would take days if not weeks for a result.

One by one, she, Gina, and Landers inspected the other rooms upstairs. A washroom in terrible disrepair, the pipes corroded, and the porcelain sink in two pieces on the scarred floor. A smoking room, the heavy smell of tobacco still lingering. More locked guest rooms, both thick with dust and darkened by bug-infested curtains. A ladies’ retiring room that connected to the second largest bedroom in the house, the one known to be CaryAnne’s. The room she had died in.

Her furniture was gone, along with any window dressings. Scuff marks in the floor told the story of a room that was likely decorated the same for many years. Her closet was nearly as big as the master bedroom’s and connected to the retiring room, a place often used for ladies attending the various balls given by the Laurents to rest before resuming the dance.

Another window was at the end of the hall. To the left of it, over the great hall, were two rooms used for the house servants. They weren’t much bigger than the walk-in closet Dani had spent hours searching.

Room by room, closet by closet, she searched. She found almost nothing but bad floors, cracked plaster, and emptiness. The larger of the two servants’ rooms had a loose floorboard, and she’d pulled it open with excitement. Nothing more than a space roughly six-by-six, probably once used by a slave to store precious items the master didn’t allow.

The servants’ stairs were a narrow deathtrap wedged into the southeastern corner of the house that opened into the great hall, so that house servants could easily attend to guests. Gina decided to obey Guy’s warning and refused to let anyone on the steps. Covered with massive cobwebs and critters running for their lives, it was clear that stairwell had been empty for some time.

“Maybe you’re missing something,” Landers insisted when Dani finally gave up. She sat right down in the middle of the ballroom, limp with frustration.

Privately, she agreed. “I’ve searched everywhere I’d expect to see a hidden entrance. There’s nothing.”

“You’re the expert,” Landers griped. “You tell me what we should be looking for.”

“I just don’t know.”

“There has to be something else,” Gina said. “Maybe I was wrong about the windows. Or the bedding has been there longer than we think.”

“The windows were jammed shut,” Dani said. “He didn’t come through them. There
is
another way. I just have to find it.”

“You’ve done all you can for now,” Gina said. “All the rooms are opened. You know what kind of shape things are in. You’ve checked the locks. I really think it’s best if you step aside unless we call you back to search again.”

Dani pushed a lock of damp hair off her face. “He’s right. I’m missing something.”

“Let us look,” Gina said. “You go back to Magnolia House. Get a shower, something to eat. Then go to the historical foundation and research that letter. I trusted you, and now it’s your turn to do the same for me.”

The young crime scene technician came into the room carrying something in his gloved hand. “Found something.”

“Where?” Gina said.

“Renters’ bedroom. In the far corner of the closet, as though it had been kicked aside.” He opened his fist to reveal a pocket watch. “It’s old, right?” His question was directed at Dani.

She got to her feet for a better view. “Given the marred and yellowed state of the glass and the gold, it looks like it. But there’s no way to tell without checking the serial number. Is there an engraving?”

“Nothing,” the tech said. “You think the watch could have been a Laurent family heirloom the historical society missed?”

“Doubtful, especially if you found it in the renters’ bedroom,” Gina said. “Who knows how many people came and went from there? I’d say it’s more likely the owner accidentally dropped it.”

“I’m not sure it’s quite that old, either,” Dani said. “I’m not an expert on watches, but this looks more like something from the 1940s. The Laurent men were dead by then.”

“Tag it and bag it,” Gina said. “Run it for prints. Maybe we’ll get something.”

“I’ve got a colleague in Indianapolis who specializes in historic jewelry. If I could send her a picture–”

“It’s evidence,” Landers said. “We’ve got our own expert contacts. We’ll handle it.”

Dani raised her hands in defeat. “I’ll head out, then.”

Gina promised to call her with any news. Landers walked her to the entrance, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Saw your shoes by the door,” he said.

Dani paused to look at her bare feet. The soles were dirty. She’d forgotten.

“I got stuck in the mud this morning.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” He looked surprisingly sympathetic.

She waited for him to make a disparaging Yankee remark, but he simply held open the front door for her. The rain had finally ceased and air stickier than cotton candy had replaced it.

Dani sucked in a hard breath and reached for her shoes. She wasn’t even going to bother putting them on.

“Driveway is still mucky,” Landers said. “Don’t go too slow otherwise you’ll be stuck good.”

“I won’t.”

“And stay off the dirt roads if you’ve a mind to go exploring. You’ll get stuck for sure.”

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“Well, you spent all morning sweating it out, crawling around this dirty old house on your hands and knees, looking for a needle in a haystack. Didn’t complain, didn’t argue with Gina’s orders. I figure that deserves some respect.”

“Thank you.” Frustrated tears stung her eyes. “But I missed something. There has to be another way in.”

“Take Gina’s advice. Get cleaned up, go look after that letter. Then maybe you can take another stab at it.” He turned, heading back to the house. “I’m serious about the roads. You don’t want to get stuck out there, Miss Dani.”

It wasn’t until Dani was halfway to the car, feeling the wet grass beneath her feet and breathing in the sweet scent of jasmine that she caught Landers’s term of endearment.

Guess she wasn’t a damned Yankee anymore.

*     *     *

Cage greedily gulped
the glass of lemonade Jaymee offered, sinking into the recliner in the living room. He should have been sleeping since he had a shift tonight, but he was too wired from the information he’d come to share.

“Nick said you called him about Ben Moore.” She crossed one long leg over the other and waited, her features set in disapproval.

“Just trying to see what I can find out.”

“And that’s not driven by a grudge at all, is it?” She asked sarcastically.

“Nope.”

Her mouth lifted in a knowing smirk. “Not by jealousy, either.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right.” Jaymee settled into the plush couch. “I like her. She’d be good for you.”

He snorted.

“You need someone to challenge your cantankerous ass,” Jaymee continued. “Someone who will keep you up on your toes instead of inside your head, brooding.”

“Maybe.” He played with a hangnail on his index finger. “But it’s unexpected.”

“Such is life. You need to stop taking it so seriously and live it.”

“I’m trying.” He never was one for change, and the past few years consisted of too many upheavals. His fractured mind still wrestled with the idea that just maybe, he’d stopped loving Jaymee a long time ago and clung to the notion for some sense of comfort.

The front door opened, and Dani’s voice echoed through the foyer. “Jaymee? You home?”

“In here.”

Dani rounded the corner, shoulders slumped and dragging her feet. She was red-faced, and dirt smeared her pastel tank top. Another smudge decorated her right knee. Barefoot, she carried her shoes, one of them caked with dried mud.

She skidded to a stop when her eyes met his, and her neck reddened. “Hi. I’m a mess.”

“What happened?” The idea of her stuck on the road in the rain with a murderer possibly lurking around made Cage’s stomach turn. “You get stuck? Why didn’t you call?”

“I didn’t get stuck exactly. My foot did. In Ironwood’s drive.”

Cage bit his lip, and Jaymee coughed back a laugh. “I forgot it was dirt. I should have warned you. Drop the shoes in the front hall, and I’ll get you something to drink.”

“Thank you,” Dani said. “Let me just attempt to get decent.”

After she got rid of the dirty shoes and changed her clothes, Dani came back into the living room and took the opposite end of the couch. She pulled her hair out of the band letting it fall to her shoulders. Elbows on her knees, she pushed the loose hair off her face with a shaky sigh.

They sat in awkward silence, listening to Jaymee bang around the kitchen. Dani spoke first. “You might be right.”

“About what?”

“The authority figure thing.” She looked down at her toes, painted with soft pink.

Cage thought the color suited her.

“I was pretty harsh last night,” he said. “I had no right.”

“No, you did. You’d warned me, and I treated you like a simpleton.” Worry lines creased her forehead as she leaned toward him, her hand inching toward his on the cushion. “I’m sorry.”

The tension gripping his shoulders melted away. “No problem. Me, too.”

She smiled, and he found himself admiring the way her nose wrinkled with the movement. Fidgeting under his scrutiny, she clasped her hands in her lap and looked down.

He cleared his throat. “What else happened today?”

Jaymee returned and handed Dani a glass of lemonade. Dani took the glass but didn’t drink. She stared ahead, eyes narrowed and shifting, as though she were reading an invisible cue card.

“Dani, what is it?” Jaymee asked.

“Someone was camping out,” Dani said. “In the master bedroom. The one that was probably John James’s. And the room has been cleaned and recently restored, but the hallway was so dirty Gina and I left tracks as we walked. There were none leading to the room. There has to be another way in. I just couldn’t find it.”

Jaymee took the glass from Dani. “Forget plain lemonade. I’ll add some vodka.”

“You…that’s impossible.” Cage tried to form a coherent thought. “I would have known if someone had recently been in the house.”

“Not if they snuck in when you were working and used a secret passage,” Dani said. “That’s the only explanation.”

Sipping the cocktail, Dani told Cage and Jaymee everything that had happened at Ironwood that morning.

“What do you think?” Jaymee asked Cage.

He drummed his fingers against his forehead. None of this made any sense. Could he really have been that blind? How could someone have restored the floor in a bedroom without Cage having a clue? Why hadn’t he smelled the chemicals?

“How long ago do you think the room was restored?”

Dani shrugged. “Hard to say. Could be two years, could be a month.”

“So it could have happened before I started taking care of the place?”