A Forgotten Murder (Medlar Mystery 3) - Page 8

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He’d never tell Kate, but he didn’t like that Sara had arranged this trip under false pretenses. She’d said she wanted to do some historical research. But she didn’t say that the history was barely twenty years old. Or that the people around here were still angry about whatever had happened.

He always wanted to know what was going on. To him, his job was to protect two women who were much too inquisitive and way too fearless for their own good. Right now, he wanted to know more about poor, persecuted Nicky and the “parasites” who allegedly stole from him.

Jack didn’t think he was going to find out anything from Mrs. Aiken, but maybe her daughter knew something.

He turned back to Kate. She was looking at the exterior of the big house, and he wondered if she realized how much like her aunt she was.

“I’m gonna look around on my own,” Jack said. “You go pick out a room for us and I’ll see you later.”

As he hurried away, Kate called out, “Rooms, Jack. Plural.”

He didn’t answer but he smiled. He walked around a tall hedge that hid the surrounding land, then walked down a gravel road, passing buildings that were well-kept. But he could see inside enough to know they were empty. Probably awaiting restoration.

Down one lane were four small houses, each beautifully kept. His guess was that they’d been built in the twenties when the old chapel had been restored. They were made to look Victorian Gothic but they weren’t that old. His contractor’s eye saw that they were in good repair.

Past the wall was a woodland. Trees were close, their tops overlapping to form a dense canopy. Ferns covered the ground.

When he saw sunlight along one side, he went to it. On the gravel lane was a little green utility truck. Jack owned three of them for his business. There were wooden-handled tools in the back that would be ruined if it rained.

Looking around, he saw no one. The entire huge estate was like it had been abandoned.

Beside the truck, along the lane, was a thick hedge of wild blackberry vines, heavy with unpicked fruit. When he put the tools inside the cab, he removed an empty stainless steel bucket and half filled it with blackberries.

There was a pretty pond with a trail around it and tall willows drooping down to the water. Clumps of reeds softened the shoreline. Jack knew from experience that if you sat very still, birds and wildlife showed up.

It didn’t take him long to find her. When you grew up with a father like Jack’s, you earned a PhD in hiding. He was so attuned to the shapes of nature that he saw the shadow of a human form sitting on a tree branch. As a child, he’d done that often. If he didn’t move and drew his breath shallowly, people would walk past without seeing him.

Jack didn’t show that he saw her. She was thin and her clothes were the color of the forest. It looked like she worked at keeping people from seeing her.

He sat down on the ground by the tree’s roots. A little clump of mushrooms was to his left. He put the bucket of berries where she could see them.

Leaning back on his hands, he looked out at the water. After a few minutes, he had so quieted his body that he could hear her breathing. He ate a few berries. “These are good. Want some?”

There was no response, but he didn’t expect any.

“I’m Jack, and it seems that I’m here to solve a mystery. Know anything about it?”

Continued silence. He ate more berries, then stretched out on the ground, hands behind his head. He was careful to keep his eyes on the water, not looking up into the tree.

After a few minutes he knew she was coming down, but he could hardly hear her. She’s good, he thought. Lots of practice in being still and not being seen.

When she was sitting beside him, he slowly sat up and turned to look at her. The driver had said she was in her forties but she looked young. No worry lines, not even laughter creases. Like those monks who spend their lives praying, he thought. Smooth, clean faces.

She had straight dark hair twisted back on her neck, and she was very thin. Her green blouse and black trousers hung on her. She had on odd, flexible slippers. They wouldn’t make a sound, or hinder her movements, whether in climbing a tree or scurrying through hallways.

Right away, he knew he liked her. Even felt a kinship with her.

When he smiled, after a moment, she gave a small smile back. He had an idea that she talked very little but listened a lot. “Hiding from your mom?”

Her smile broadened to show perfect white teeth.

“Me too,” he said. “Your mother scares me.”

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the water and the wildlife. “Where I live, there are alligators.”

She lifted her eyebrows in interest.

Tags: Jude Deveraux Medlar Mystery Mystery
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