The Gilded Curse: Will the young heiress be the next victim of her family's curse? (24 page)

When he reached the back of the house, he glanced toward the river, half-expecting to see a boat along the bank, loaded with a bunch of Germans. What would he do then? He breathed a sigh of relief to see the riverbank empty. Just as he stepped toward the cottage, he heard movement nearby. Russell froze, wondering if a gun was pointed at him.

“Who’s there?” Russell whispered, summoning all the bravado he could.

A gruff voice mumbled, “Abner Jones.”

Russell spun around and saw the tall, stooped man emerge from the shadow.

“What are you doing here, Abner?” Russell kept his voice low, in case someone else was within earshot.

“Watching.”

“Watching what?”

“The house.”

Russell started to ask why but realized Abner might have seen the light inside too. While they stood there, the screen door off the kitchen banged shut. Leaving Abner alone, Russell rushed around to the other side of the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever went out. But as he rounded the corner of the house, there was no sign of anyone else. If Abner hadn’t delayed him, Russell might’ve seen the intruder. His temper rose, ready to lash out at the old man. But when Abner appeared at his side, he drew in a breath and blew it out to calm himself.

“Abner, I’m sure you have a good reason to be here.”

No response.

“Abner, would you please tell me why you were watching the house?”

“Want to see who’s trespassing.”

“And did you see who it was?”

“Nope. Some man.”

“Someone we know? Or a stranger?”

“Not sure. Could be somebody who works here though.”

“Do you have any idea who it might be?” Russell’s patience wore thin.

“Could be a German spy.”

“Why do you say that?” Russell stuck his hands on his hips and glared at the man.

Abner shrugged his shoulders. “’Cause they’re around here.”

Russell was getting nowhere. Had the man seen anyone or was he just hallucinating?

“Okay, Abner. Tell you what. You keep an eye on the house and let me know right away if you see anyone. If you don’t know them, at least give me a description. All right?”

Abner nodded. “That Miss Smithfield. She’s nice. Like her grandpa.”

Russell’s mouth fell open. Was this Abner talking?

“I agree, Abner. She is very nice.” He recalled what Lexie told him. “And she spoke well of you too.” He had an idea. “Miss Smithfield would very much like to know who’s been in her cottage. Do you think you can help her find out?”

Abner nodded his head. “When I get through at the golf course, I’ll come over here.”

“Never mind the golf course. I’ll have you put back on the grounds crew this side of the island.”

Another nod.

“Tomorrow, there will be some people coming to work on the house, fix some things. But they’re okay—I’m sending them.” At least he thought they were okay. He wasn’t sure about anybody anymore.

Chapter 27

T
he morning staff greeted Lexie as they hurried into the dining room to start their shifts. She had arrived even earlier than usual but assured Mr. Mason she didn’t mind sitting alone in the empty dining room while the kitchen prepared for breakfast. All she wanted was a cup of tea and privacy. Of course, her early arrival guaranteed the first scones fresh from the oven, an added bonus.

Funny how she felt more comfortable with the staff than with the rest of the guests. Perhaps embarrassment about wearing the same clothes over and over again. Her grandmother would be horrified at the thought. The members always dressed for each meal, changing clothes several times a day. The amount of luggage that accompanied them each season often required another boat trip from Brunswick to transport it. Had Lexie thought she’d be staying so long, she would’ve packed a few more things.

Thanks to Mr. Mason, she had learned the names of the dining room staff, along with other facts about them—who had worked there the longest, who was the newest, who was married to whom, and so on. He had also filled her in on which members were new to the club, and their backgrounds as well. Little did he know she might soon be replaced with a new member.

“Good morning, Mr. Thompson.” Mr. Mason lifted his gaze past Lexie’s chair, pausing before he poured more tea into her cup. “Can I get you anything?”

Lexie’s heart skipped a beat as Russell pulled out a chair beside her.

“Good morning, Mr. Mason. Coffee, please.” Russell glanced at Lexie, lingering on her eyes. “Good morning, Lexie.”

Her face warmed at his twinkle. What a welcome relief to last night’s serious mood. She beamed back at him as a ray of early morning sun streamed across the table.

“Good morning, Russell. I didn’t expect to see you so early.”

“I thought you might be here. I’ve heard you like having the dining
room to yourself.”

Memories of the previous evening when he’d left her all alone flooded her mind, and she shot him an angry glare.

Russell drew back and frowned before understanding crossed his face. “I wasn’t talking about last night. I was referring to you coming to breakfast early. I’m sorry—I hated to leave in such a hurry last night. Would you forgive me … please?”

Lexie couldn’t stay angry with him, not with that sad puppy-dog look on his face. She relaxed and smiled.

“Sure, Russell. And yes, I do like to be one of the first diners in the morning. I’m not very friendly first thing, and I need time to warm up to the day. After I’ve had my tea, I’m more hospitable.”

“Hey, I can appreciate that. I like to grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen and run up to my office before I deal with the day’s business. That time is reserved for God. He and I meet on the balcony and discuss things before I jump into them.” Russell studied his cup. “I’ve discovered the day just doesn’t go well if I don’t start out right.”

Lexie squirmed in her chair. Fingering her pearls, she groped for a response. Russell’s relationship to God was so personal, like they were friends, not strangers, like her.

Russell glanced up at her. “You’re very quiet. Haven’t had enough tea yet?”

“Apparently not.” Lexie lifted her cup and took a sip, keeping her eyes focused on the lace tablecloth.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you why I came in here to disrupt your routine.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice as he glanced from side to side. “I saw something at Destiny last night.”

Lexie’s spine stiffened and her breath caught. “You did? You went to Destiny last night?”

Russell went on to tell her about seeing the light from the tower and going to check it out. When he got to the part about running into Abner, her heart slowed.

“So, I think you were right, Lexie. I think Abner is just trying to keep an eye on Destiny and maybe you too. His commitment to your grandfather is remarkable.”

“It is. I wonder if the poor man ever sleeps.”

“I suppose he has to sometime. But I think he has trouble sleeping—you know, the war. Another man who lives in the dormitory where Abner lives says he often wakes up at night hollering. I think he has
nightmares.” Russell drained his coffee cup then set it back on the table, pointing to it as Mr. Mason watched nearby. “So, anyway, I asked him to watch the house for us and report to me what or who he sees. I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t see what harm it can do.”

“No, I don’t mind. Guess I’ve gotten used to him being around. But tell me, did you see anyone else last night?”

Russell shook his head. “No. I’m afraid running into Abner sidetracked me. But maybe he will see something now that he’s been assigned that responsibility.”

The waiter refilled Russell’s cup, disappeared behind the kitchen door, and returned with a tray of scones. He set them on the table, grinning at Lexie. “Here you are, Miss Smithfield—warm from the oven.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mason. Looks like I’ve developed a habit. At this rate, my clothes won’t fit anymore.”

The waiter laughed and stepped away.

Lexie took a scone and bit into it, savoring the sweet taste before speaking again.

“Russell, what was the emergency last night? Can you tell me?”

Russell had a mouthful of scone. He held up his hand motioning her to wait as he took a sip of coffee. “Wonderful scones! I must congratulate the bakery chef.” When he acted as though he might leave the table to do so right away, Lexie placed her hand on his arm.

“Wait. You’re avoiding my question, aren’t you?”

He looked down at her hand, blowing out a breath. “All right. One of our spotters saw a raft or boat with some men last night. It appeared to be heading toward St. Simons.”

She gasped. “Oh no. Could they have been Germans?”

“We don’t know. We’re waiting for the Coast Guard to tell us what they find.”

“And when they do, you’ll tell me, won’t you?” Lexie’s heart raced. Maybe she should leave the island now.

He studied her face before answering. “Yes. I will.”

Another waiter approached the table. “Mr. Thompson, Mr. Prentice wants to see you in your office.”

“Duty calls, I’m afraid.” Russell pushed back his chair. “Maybe we’ll have an answer.”

He stood to leave. “The workmen should be at Destiny today. I’ll see you later.”

After he left, Lexie decided to go to the cottage while the workers were there. She’d feel safe with others around. And maybe, in the daylight, she’d notice something she’d overlooked before.

She arrived at the cottage in time to see a truck pull up in the driveway and three men dressed in overalls get out. They walked around to the rear of the truck, began unloading supplies, and looked up as she approached.

“Hello. My name is Alexandra Smithfield. This is my house.”

“Hello, ma’am.” A man with wiry gray hair tipped the bill of his flat cap. “I’m Sam Williams. That’s Zeke and Joel.” He motioned to the other two men, who greeted her with nods. “You wanna show us what needs to be done? I got a work order here from Mr. Thompson, but I’d rather see for myself, you know.”

“I’ll be happy to show you. Come on in.”

Lexie found the door unlocked, assuming Russell had left it that way for the men. She entered the front foyer and looked each way. Nothing had changed since she’d last been there.

“Most of the damage is upstairs.” She pointed toward the stairs in the hallway.

Mr. Williams glanced around and took notice of the water stain over in the dining room. He strode over to it, reached up, and put his hand on the wallpaper in the corner.

“Damp here. You got a leak somewhere.”

“Yes, I believe it’s coming from the leaky window upstairs.”

“Hmm. All right, let’s take a look.”

Lexie led the men upstairs to the room where she’d found the leak. The workmen entered the room and studied the window, then checked the floor.

“Floor’s wet. Yep. Water’s been coming in and soaking the floor before running down into the wall below. We need to fix the frame and the window.”

They went back down to get their tools and materials. There were some long boards and a couple of sawhorses in the truck bed. “We’ll have to cut those boards here. And we’ve got that pane of glass to carry up too.” Mr. Williams looked over at Lexie. “Is there another way to get upstairs so we don’t have to carry this stuff through the whole house?”

“Yes, there’s a back door off the kitchen. Actually, the lock on that door needs to be fixed too. Come, I’ll show you.” Lexie motioned for the men to follow and walked down the path that led around the left side of
the house to the kitchen.

She found the kitchen unlocked as well.

“In there.” She motioned to the screen door and let them enter first, remembering the day Abner Jones had surprised her inside. She followed the men, noticing how they glanced around the room.

“Bet this place used to be nice,” the one called Zeke said.

“It was.” Like an elderly woman who was beautiful in her youth, but only showed glimpses of her early glory.

Sam pointed to a door. “Them the back stairs?”

Lexie nodded and opened the door, showing them the steps inside. “They lead to the second and third story servants’ quarters, but the room that needs repair is across the hall from the second-floor servants’ wing.”

“What’s that?” Joel, the younger man, pointed to the square metal door beside the door to the stairs.

“That’s the dumbwaiter.” Lexie walked over to it and yanked down on the door handle which squealed as she pulled it open.

Sam approached and studied the small metal elevator. “Needs some grease. It’s rusty.”

“It hasn’t been used for a long time. We used to put luggage in it to send upstairs to the second floor bedrooms.”

“Say, you mind if we use it to get our materials upstairs? It’d sure be easier than toting them up there.”

“I don’t see why not, but the electricity isn’t on.”

“I can make it work. This house was built around 1900, wasn’t it?”

“1899, to be exact. Why?”

“Well, before electricity, these things worked with pulleys. I’m sure the pulleys are still there—just need a little grease, that’s all.”