The Ultimate Seven Sisters Collection Page 10

  With a nod of his salt-and-pepper head, he walked away, probably off to call about those mantelpieces. I invited the interns to have a donut and took a few minutes to get to know them. There were two Rachels, Rachel Kowalski and Rachel McGhee, and James Pittman. All of them were excellent archaeological students who had earned their spots on our team. I’d Skyped with them individually before I came to Mobile, but this was the first time we’d met in person.

  “Well, guys, are you ready for the grand tour? It’s the same one visitors will take once the museum is open.” We started in the ladies’ parlor, continued on to the men’s parlor and the Blue Room, and then went up the opposite side of the hall to the servants’ waiting area, the music room and the ballroom. There were of course a myriad of closets and smaller rooms that wouldn’t be shown to the public.

  Chattering like the excited teens they were, they climbed up the spiral staircase. I stood in the hallway right where I had read about Mrs. Cottonwood bleeding over a century ago. I pointed to the bedrooms on the right and the guest rooms and private sitting room on the left. We walked through the rooms, starting with Calpurnia’s, then on to the three other rooms on the same side of the hall. The hairs on my arm stood up in a few places, but I shook it off. I supposed that seeing the place I’d been reading and dreaming about was giving me the shivers. There were no strains of music or slamming doors. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Okay, let’s head back down and talk about what you’ll be doing.” In the Blue Room, Mia was printing off material and stapling papers together. We hadn’t spoken, but I gave her a small smile and thanked her as she brought me the paperwork. “Rachel K., I’ve got you working on the ladies’ parlor. I’ve sent you an email about it, but let me just show you what I want.” We talked for a while, and then the interns were off to work on their tasks. I turned my attention to a more challenging task—repairing my relationship with Mia.

  Chapter 13

  “I know what you’re going to say…” Mia immediately went into stress mode. “And you’re right. I never should have interfered with you and William. I guess I thought I knew what was best for you.”

  We stood alone in the ladies’ parlor. How appropriate, I thought ruefully. The place where drama has unraveled for nearly two centuries.

  “You can’t do that, Mia. You can’t just apologize without hearing me out. You have to listen first. That’s how friendship is supposed to work.” She clamped her mouth shut and nodded as I continued. “I know I was a wreck in high school and even more of a wreck in college, but you have to stop. You can’t fix me. You don’t get to pick who I date. Besides, it seems to me you and William would make a better couple than he and I would—did.”

  “Don’t you think I wanted that to happen? I was crazy about William, but all he wanted to talk about was you.” Mia’s eyes watered, and a tear slid down her powdered cheek. “I’ve liked him since freshman year, but he never so much as asked me out. We hooked up once, and that was just because he got drunk at Solomon’s at the Ren Wrap Party.”

  “Mia…” was all I could say. I touched her arm and then dug in my pocket for a tissue. “Then why on earth would you try to get us together?”

  “I wanted him to be happy. I wanted you to be happy. I don’t know.”

  She started crying, and I hugged her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know, Mi. I wish you had told me so I could be there for you.”

  After a minute, Mia wiped the tears away. She jutted her chin out slightly and said, “I have something to show you.” That was my friend, ever changeable. But I rarely saw her emotional.

  “Sure, whatcha got?” I was happy to get off this heavy subject. I sensed that there were more feelings lurking under the surface of those pretty eyes and stylish clothes, that she still wasn’t happy with me, but I wasn’t sure. I was sure she would tell me if she wanted to talk about it.

  I followed her back to the Blue Room, and she waved me over to her computer. I pulled up a chair and listened as she presented her findings on the mausoleum. “Did you know that there was once a garden here called the Moonlight Garden? Well, of course you do. You dreamed about it, right?” I made a gesture for her to lower her voice. She continued in a whisper, “Anyway, the mausoleum is located due north of the center statue of the Moonlight Garden. What’s interesting is the white crosses you found around the mausoleum are arranged in the exact formation of the statues in the garden.”

  “So the crosses aren’t grave markers?” I asked, curious about the connection.

  “Could be.” Mia shrugged. “But what are the odds that they would be in the exact alignment of the statues? I mean, exactly like the garden statues. Look. According to this old drawing a visiting author made here sometime at the end of the 1840s, this was the location of the Atlas statue, the god who was the father of the Pleiades. Just outside the garden was Pleione, the mother who protected the family. These crosses are all markers. I blew up the photos of the crosses you sent me. Did you notice the names engraved in them? Well, partial names. Most of the letters have been worn away.” Mia pointed at the screen. “See, this is Sterope. This one is Alcyone…”

  I just stared at the screen. “How could I have missed that? What does it mean?” I could see the names, but I wasn’t convinced that it meant anything other than that the old Cottonwood family had an appreciation for Greek mythology.

  “You’re the historian,” she said with a laugh. “I’m the anthropologist. You can’t figure that out? It’s obviously some sort of map… or something.”

  “I don’t doubt you found something significant here, but I don’t see a map yet. Tell you what, you keep working on this. Maybe later this afternoon, we can walk back to the mausoleum and take pictures of all the markers. At the very least, it would make a neat tidbit to share with visitors.”

  “Sure, sounds great.” I could tell Mia was disappointed at my lack of excitement, but I had so much to do. Getting sidetracked by a hunch wasn’t something I wanted to get mired in. I patted her on the shoulder and left her to work on her research, happy that at least we had a truce of sorts. I printed the layout proposals and went in search of TD. We needed to get on the same page with our remodel priorities. I had certain ideas and plans for the opening ceremony, which was scheduled to take place in six months. We had to make sure that at least these opening exhibits were ready to go.

  The handsome contractor had been working on the ground floor earlier, but I couldn’t find him. I went upstairs and saw only Rachel K., who was cataloging the contents of some of the boxes in one of the guest rooms. I waved at her and walked back toward the spiral staircase to continue my search outside, but I paused in front of Calpurnia’s room.

  The door was ajar and swung open easily with a gentle push of my fingertip. I stepped into the empty room and stared at the bare fireplace with the missing mantelpiece. I missed the elegant furnishings, including the armoire and mirror. I walked to the window that overlooked the driveway. In Calpurnia’s day, it would have given her a lovely view of the carriageway. I touched the cool painted wall. TD had chosen a light peach for this room, which was close to the original color. The room had been an even lighter shade of pink. It was small in comparison to the others on this floor, but I loved it. I touched the window and felt the urge to sit in the wide windowsill. I closed my eyes and imagined Calpurnia sitting here, looking for some sign of David Garrett or Uncle Louis traveling up the driveway to see her.

  I stayed still, half hoping I could conjure up images of the past, to see without dreaming here in this room, but it didn’t happen. The chainsaws in the yard and the voices of the excited interns downstairs all traveled into the room, preventing my ears from finding the quiet they needed to truly hear. Suddenly, I could hear Rachel and James talking, and the conversation was amplified as if they were in the room with me. Rachel was excited that Professor Cooper was giving her four weeks of class credit for landing a spot on the Seven Sisters Project. James bemoaned the fact that no such courtesy had be
en extended to him. According to his professor, it was business as usual. And as a matter of fact, he was expected to deliver a report on his work at the mansion at the end of the semester if he wanted extra credit. I left my leather portfolio on the windowsill and crawled on the floor to the nearby cast-iron grate. It was like listening in on a telephone. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and used it as a flashlight, shining it into the dark vent. Something caught the light and glinted, but I couldn’t reach it with my fingers. I made a mental note to come back with a screwdriver later. It was probably just a screw from the grate, I figured.

  I wondered if this phenomenon worked in all the rooms. Rachel and James must be below me… I wandered from room to room, checking for sound from the grates. I heard music playing from the ladies’ parlor, maybe Tori Amos. Chip was talking to someone on the phone in the men’s parlor; it sounded like his mother again. Poor Chip. No wonder he was always leaving the room to talk on the phone. I could hear Mia and Matthews having a heated discussion from the grate in the Blue Room.

  “Have some patience. If what you say is true, that she’s dreaming already, then there’s no reason to hurry. Let’s wait and see what happens.” I knew that angry voice; it was Matthews. The next voice was inaudible, but I could tell that he was talking to a woman. “What does that matter?” Matthews sounded aggravated. “Who cares what he thinks? Listen, stick to the plan and stop improvising and scheming. Just do your job and keep your mouth shut. Too many people know about it already.”

  “Don’t think….because…I’m not one to…play with me and you’ll be surprised.” I was sure that was Mia’s voice. My heart pounded in my chest. Somehow, some way, I was being betrayed.

  “Carrie Jo, what about this?” Rachel K. was standing in the doorway, probably wondering what I was doing lying on the floor. She held up the music box that had played its strange solo the day before. “Looks like we need a key to play it. It wasn’t in the box.”

  I got off the floor and dusted myself off. I faked a smile and took the box from her, giving it a cursory glance. “I’m not sure what to do with this stuff. Looks kind of modern. Thanks, Rachel. I’ll figure it out.”

  “Okay. Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I was just…yes, I’m fine. Thanks. Listen, don’t forget to copy me on the list, okay?”

  The perky intern bopped down the hall, her dark ponytail swinging. I decided to play it cool. Nobody knew that I knew anything. Let’s keep it that way. Put your game face on, Carrie Jo.

  I went back to Calpurnia’s room to get my portfolio from the windowsill, but it wasn’t there anymore. It was lying on the floor. The pictures had slid out of the unzipped book and now lay in an unorganized pile. I set the box down and squatted to pick up the papers, restacking them neatly.

  From this angle, I could see into the vent. That was no screw from the grate—it was the key! The tiny silver key for the music box. How had it gotten in there? With a rush of emotions, I crawled to the grate and tested it by pulling on the edges. Nope, it wasn’t going to budge. I felt in my pocket and found my small utility blade. I used it like a screwdriver. The screws came up more easily than I thought they would. In just a minute, I lifted the grate and reached for the tiny key. I shoved it into my pocket and replaced the grate, racing to get the screws in as I heard TD calling for me. I met him in the hallway, and we took our scheduled tour. I deposited the music box Rachel gave me on my desk and left Mia in the Blue Room without saying a word. I had a lot to think about and an endlessly growing list of mysteries to solve. To top it all off, I had a date with Ashland Stuart in just a few hours.

  Like the girl from long ago who intrigued me so, I could feel the events of life swelling up around me. Destiny was unfolding its complicated pattern, and I was a mere thread in the tapestry.

  Chapter 14

  Ashland insisted on picking me up that night. As I carefully shampooed my hair (that bump still hurt) and later ransacked my closet for something suitable, I reviewed my trip to Mobile thus far. As it stood, I had a sore leg, a bump on my head and handprints on my ankle, and I had probably lost a good friend—no, two good friends—for an undetermined reason. One of those friends might also be betraying me somehow with a man I found repulsive and crafty.

  On the upside, I was dreaming more clearly than ever before, I had the job I always wanted and I was going to spend some time with Ashland Stuart. I was looking forward to getting to know him better. He seemed intelligent and quick-witted, and he was of course very handsome. I suddenly regretted putting all my “date” clothes in storage in Charleston. In the end, I opted for white jeans, a blue and white striped top and navy blue flats. I looked at myself in the mirror. Hmm…jeans aren’t too snug. Okay. I pulled my hair into a low ponytail at my left shoulder and dabbed on some makeup. Well, he said I should dress casual, so I am!

  Ashland knocked on my door a few minutes early, but thankfully I was ready to go. As I climbed into his car, I waved goodbye to Bette.

  “You look great!” He gave me an appreciative smile. I couldn’t believe I was doing this, going out on a date with my boss. He was out of my league, really, but he had asked. I tried not to think about the why too much.

  “Thanks. You did say casual. Where are we going?” I fastened the seat belt and put my small purse down by my feet.

  “Do you like seafood?” The car slid through the tunnel that led to the causeway across Mobile Bay. “This area has some of the best. You’ll never have shrimp like Gulf shrimp, I promise!”

  My stomach grumbled, and I was happy to chit chat with him. “Oh yes, I love all types of seafood. Are we going to a restaurant?”

  “No, I thought we could have dinner on my boat.” The sun had fully set, and the stars shone brilliantly over the bay. I gasped as a meteor whizzed across the sky. “Look at that!” I squealed with delight, rolling down the window so I could see the sky better.

  “See, I’ve even arranged for entertainment.” Ashland laughed and rolled his window down too. A few more flew by—we were in a genuine meteor shower. We crossed the bay in a few minutes and pulled up to the Fairhope Marina. “I’ve never been on a boat before,” I confessed.

  “No worries. It’s a big boat, and the seas don’t look too rough tonight, so it should be pretty smooth. We won’t go out far, just outside the bay, and then we’ll have dinner. I’ve cooked something special for you.”

  “Gee, I hope you didn’t go to any trouble, Ashland.”

  He looked at me thoughtfully. “That’s nice.”

  “What’s nice?”

  “You calling me Ashland. I like that.” He stepped out of the car and went to open my door. I was finding that he was a true southern gentleman. I liked that.

  “Do you trust me?” He gave me a wide smile. God, he’s handsome!

  I nodded once, accepted his hand and stepped out of the car. I promised myself I would not trip this time. We walked down the planks to the boat, and my eyes widened. It was a big boat. As a matter of fact, it was the largest one in the marina, as near as I could tell. I could hear the tinkling of glasses and people laughing. Apparently lots of people had planned to watch the stars fall tonight.

  I chuckled at the boat’s name, “Happy Go Lucky.” We stepped aboard, and Ashland gave me a tour. It had several rooms, an ample kitchen and a full-size bathroom complete with Jacuzzi tub. I felt like I was in an old episode of the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous with Robin Leach. Well, okay, maybe not quite that luxurious, but it was close.

  Ashland led me to the dinner table he had set up on the deck. I could see that he had a server waiting for us, who held out my chair and handed me a fine cloth napkin. Ashland’s eyes twinkled as he opened a bottle of champagne. The server brought us covered dishes; with a flair, he removed the covers. They were plates of cold, boiled shrimp with cocktail and tartar sauce. In a few minutes, we were served West Indies Salad, stuffed flounder and cocktails.

  “My compliments to the chef,” I told the server. He looked from me
to Ashland.

  Ashland grinned. “I’m the chef.”

  “No! You can cook? Hidden talents. Thank you for going to the trouble of doing all this for tonight…. Oh, look; here comes some more stars…” We made a toast to the stars, and eventually neither of us could eat anymore. We washed our hands and settled down on a cushion at the bow to watch the skies. That night was the Leonid Meteor Shower. It would be ending soon, but I wanted our time together to go on and on.

  Ashland sighed. “The stars are so beautiful tonight. You know, in the winter, you can see the Pleiades—the Seven Sisters—in the Northern Hemisphere. Actually, there are nine stars, but only seven can be viewed with the naked eye. They say they’re dying stars and will fade away soon.”

  “Mia mentioned something about that to me the other day. She said she believed those white crosses we found were actually markers because they had the stars’ names on them. They were pretty faded, though; I didn’t even see them until she pointed them out to me. She’s convinced it’s a map to something.” I sipped my cocktail absently, staring up at the stars.

  “A map to what? Did she say?” Ashland was staring at me. I felt a surge of worry, but I wasn’t sure why.

  “No, she didn’t. I told her those markers didn’t mean anything. They could just be names of children who died at birth, or even markers for family pets. I mean, who knows, really?”

  He looked serious; his jaw was clenched a little. He set his drink down on the side table. “I think it’s time I told you a little about my mother and why I’m restoring the old house. You see, my mother’s family were descendants of the Cottonwoods—and the Beaumonts, even though they later moved to the northern part of the county. My mother loved that old house, and she spent a lot of time there in her last years.”