Garden of Bone: Book 6, page 17
Eleri shook her head. "How much do you know, Grandmere, about Emmaline—about how long she lived?"
To her side, in the corner of her vision, Eleri could see Donovan looking between the two of them. She felt his urge to jump up and leave the conversation, to let it be a private family matter, but she reached out and placed the palm of her hand over the back of his for just a moment. It was nothing that would force him to stay in his seat, but it urged him to do so. Though the case was hers and hers alone, he'd put himself in the center of it. He'd sensed she was in danger and had come immediately. He deserved to know the background.
Grandmere was sitting on the coffee table in front of them. With a slight bit of effort, she heaved her large frame up and moved over to the side chair. She often sat there. In fact, Eleri wasn't sure she'd ever seen the woman sitting on the small couch that she and Donovan now occupied. Grandmere looked comfortable, which was good, because the conversation to come was going to be difficult.
"When Emmaline disappeared," Grandmere began, not looking at either of them, "I was frantic. I looked everywhere I could."
"What does that mean?" Eleri asked, having no idea how Grandmere would “look” from three states away. Surely her great-grandmother had not been out in her boots with a search party, cutting grids through swampland. Had she put up signs? Had she phone-banked? All those things were normal in that situation to Eleri, but not to Grandmere.
This time, her great-grandmother turned and looked her in the eye. "I scryed. I went to all my friends. I had them scry, too. But wherever Emmaline had gone, it was dark."
Eleri frowned. "I never got that impression. I sensed that she was actually okay. It may be why I didn't look for her harder."
Donovan turned and looked at Eleri then, and this time his hand moved to the top of hers, a gesture, not of keeping her in place, but of comfort.
"By dark," Grandmere continued, "I don't mean that Emmaline was in the dark or that things were bad for her. I mean, there was a wall. Whoever took her knew how to stop us from looking."
That hit Eleri hard. For all these years, merely that her sister had been kidnapped. Then she had died before Eleri had gone to Quantico, before Eleri had learned too much. Until that time, Eleri had seen Emmaline in her dreams. She'd seen Emmaline growing and changing. She'd spoken with her sister. They'd run through the woods and played together, in the dreams. Emmaline had shown her a few things, and only occasionally did Eleri get glimpses of anything sinister or evil. In many ways, it seemed Emmaline was growing up as a happy child.
Those dreams were the only reason Eleri survived what she found when she studied human trafficking during her Quantico training—and when she’d learned what the protocol was for a missing child of eight. She did not share it with Grandmere now, though she didn't doubt Grandmere understood what happened to pretty eight-year-old girls who were kidnapped, particularly when they were blond-haired, blue-eyed, and from wealthy families.
"I told myself, as I saw her getting older—" Eleri paused, realizing that to Grandmere, it was not a revelation that Emmaline had gotten older after she'd been taken, that she had not died right away. It was also no revelation to Grandmere that Eleri knew this.
Sensing that and understanding there was no need to speak of it, Eleri continued. "I saw her getting older, and I saw her happy. I saw her playing. She wore clean clothes. She ran around barefoot. I got occasional glimpses of scary things, but overall, nothing major. Emmaline herself told me not to worry. For whatever reason, I was never quite able to ask where she was or how I could come and get her."
Grandmere nodded again, still staring into the distance. "That's because you weren't allowed to ask, child.”
Eleri had only now just begun understanding. "Is that like when I tried to look inside Darcelle? I wanted to see where she was going, where she'd been, but I couldn’t learn anything about her?"
Grandmere nodded. "You smacked a wall, didn't you?"
It was interesting, Eleri thought, that Grandmere not only described it, but used the same terms she had used when she experienced it.
"There was always a wall around Emmaline," Grandmere said. "And the wall only began to come down after Emmaline died."
Eleri leaned forward. "What about Mama? What did Mama do? Did she not feel any of this? It seems like it runs through our blood, Grandmere, and Mama's blood is between yours and mine." Eleri heard her voice almost cracking. She was no longer an FBI agent relaying facts, no longer just a granddaughter asking questions. Now, she was worried, frightened, and unsure. Her own mother was at stake, and she'd already lost her sister.
"Nathalie was—" Grandmere started once then tried again, this time with a sigh. "Nathalie was something else. Nathalie's powers lay mostly in denial. You're absolutely correct. She has everything you have. No," Grandmere said, "I take that back. You and your sister also have a lot from your father's side of the family."
Eleri and Donovan both nodded at that. That made sense, she thought.
"Nathalie did not have Hale and Eames blood. Nathalie did not have Llewellyn running through her veins—but somehow, she had managed to pick the man who would make her daughters even stronger than she was," Grandmere said. "She wanted nothing to do with this life, and she managed to find a man who, on the surface, looked as far away from it as she wanted to be. Yet underneath it all, he was dug in even deeper than maybe she was."
Eleri had not thought of it that way before. She'd heard of her parents’ history as a love story. They'd met, taken one look at each other, and had been together ever since. Blue blood colonial Thomas Hale Eames had taken one look at Nathalie Beaumont and decided he had to have her. He had seen an African-American beauty who faked being mainline very well and he’d understood that she would fit into his life the way he wanted a wife to fit. More than that, Eleri thought, the two did truly seem a love match—not just a societal one.
When Emmaline disappeared, her parents had come together in a way she'd not seen in other families. It didn't seem to change the fact, though, that over the years her mother had grown distant and cold—which didn't seem to change the fact that Thomas Hale Eames loved Nathalie Beaumont Eames with all his heart.
A thought occurred to Eleri. "Speaking of bloodlines, my bloodlines are strong and strange," she said to Grandmere. Grandmere only nodded. "But they're the same as Emmaline's."
Donovan's head snapped toward hers, and she understood he was thinking what she was.
"Grandmere," she asked, "do you think that had anything to do with why Emmaline disappeared?”
Grandmere looked at her sagely. "I'm confident of it."
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Eleri sat back. The words had come as a shock to her heart, strong and sharp.
"But Grandmere’" she began cautiously, "if someone took Emmaline for her bloodline … what about me?"
Grandmere shook her head. "Do you really want to hear this?"
"No," Eleri replied suddenly. "But I have to know, if I'm going to find her. If I'm going to bring her home, then I need to know everything."
Grandmere leaned forward, elbows on her knees. It was a position Eleri wasn't used to seeing her great-grandmother in. She clasped her hands and looked at her great-granddaughter intensely. "Eleri, child, there is nothing to bring home."
"I can bring home her bones," Eleri said. "I know that they're out there."
"Yes. I, too, am confident they are," Grandmere replied. "But Emmaline has been gone for more than a decade."
"I know," Eleri said. "And my mother needs to know that. My father needs to know that. They're still waiting for her to come home. They haven't healed. And to be frank, neither have I."
Grandmere started to open her mouth.
"And neither have you!" Eleri cried. "Whatever happened to her, it wasn't okay—and, well, I need to know."
Grandmere nodded and sat back. "I think you're right about the bloodlines. I’ve always been confident that's why they took her."
Donovan leaned forward then, too. The conversation and the tension in the tiny room was getting tight as all three of them ratcheted in.
"Anyone who took that girl for her bloodlines took her because they knew what those bloodlines were worth. It means they used her for something,” Grandmere continued, her gaze in the middle distance.
Eleri nodded. "That’s probably why I had visions of her with blood on her hands."
Grandmere nodded. "I never saw that, but it makes sense. Emmaline was powerful. Like I said, I'd expected her to inherit the family line. However, there’s something else that you should know."
Grandmere paused, but when she started again, her words still rambled with the difficulty of speaking them. "Well, the good news is that you're an adult now, and it wouldn’t be easy to take you. But the fact is, the two of you are the same. Emmaline was the one I thought would lead the family—not because of her blood, but because of her temperament. It was never for you. But if it came down to blood and power, I don't know that there was a distinction between the two of you. The day that Emmaline disappeared, I got the clear impression it could have been either of you."
Eleri inhaled sharply. It had not occurred to her that was a real possibility. Though looking at it as an FBI agent over the years, she'd wondered why anyone would take an eight-year-old girl, and the answers to that question could not be good. However, no matter what those reasons were, they would have made Eleri just as vulnerable.
Emmaline had always been more serene than Eleri. She'd always been more pliant, friendly, and willing to please. But it had not come from stupidity or lack of caring. Emmaline had not been malleable. Even at eight, she’d been sharp.
There were family members Emmaline would not go near. Eleri had never understood why. Perhaps Emmaline was a little more in touch with the feelings she had earlier in her life. But despite those differences, the two little girls were—for all intents and purposes—the same.
It struck Eleri then that it could have been she who was kidnapped, raised by another family, and murdered at the age of seventeen. That was a harsh pill to swallow, because while it frightened the crap out of her, she desperately wished it had been the case.
Grandmere shook her head. "No, you can't go there," she said, clearly understanding the direction Eleri's thoughts had wandered.
Donovan took over the conversation then, realizing they'd hit a point where they probably shouldn't go any further. At least, he knew, Eleri needed time to digest what she learned.
Maybe Grandmere and Donovan needed time to digest this new information, Eleri thought.
This time Donovan went for the basics and talked logistics. "Grandmere, we need to do research. We need to interview you about what you know, and we need to do it less like a conversation at the couch. We need to have recordings and make notes. We need to treat it like a case."
Grandmere shook her head. "This is no FBI case. This is my family."
"I understand," Donovan said. "But what I need you to understand is that Eleri and I are very good at working cases. So while there won’t be FBI involvement, we’re going to work it that way."
Grandmere’s lips pressed together. “The Feds couldn’t find Emmaline before,” she announced, clearly disappointed in the agents who had searched for her great-granddaughter.
Donovan managed to keep his expression neutral. “Well, the science is a lot better these days, and they didn’t have a team like ours.”
Eleri smiled at the thought. It was good to know Donovan understood what a great team they were. Though neither of them mentioned that much, they worked especially well together, and she was aware that Westerfield knew this, too. However, it felt good to hear her partner understand what they were. Then again, he’d risked his own career to come here.
When Grandmere nodded her concession to Donovan's request to record their interviews, he lobbed another request at her. "We need internet connection. Eleri and I need to get into FBI databases, and we need to research what we can from right here. I have information from Wade, and Eleri needs to be able to get in touch with him. Right now, I have my phone, but it’s not secure. Right now, the only internet access I can get is at the library or at the bakery or Starbucks down the street." He motioned out the window, but his expression made it clear he didn’t think conducting his research in public was suitable.
"Grandmere," he said—Eleri loved the fact that he used that term as though it was the woman's given name—"If we need to use internet anywhere other than this location, we will not be secure. And if we work from the FBI branch office, we run the risk of anything we find becoming a federal case."
Grandmere nodded. "You want to set up one of your internet routers in my house." The tone of her voice told Eleri exactly how much she disliked the idea. So Eleri was shocked when Grandmere added, "Okay."
Eleri blinked and looked at her grandmother. The easy acquiescence began to pull her out of her shock at what she'd just learned about her little sister's kidnapping. "Okay?" she asked. "I mean, we need it. But I know you don't like Wi-Fi in your house."
"I don't." Grandmere’s tone was matter-of-fact. "I don't like digital technology. I don't like what it lets in. However, I can't protect you at the FBI branch. This house is the safest place you guys can be, and I want you here as often as possible. Protecting you while you're out is so much harder."
Eleri had not thought of it that way. She did realize that Grandmere had been casting spells around the house, of course, and that she'd been casting them on Eleri and Donovan. She looked to Grandmere. "How much work is this costing you?"
"That does not matter, child," Grandmere said. "None of that matters. How is it you think you got home after going to the Dauphine’s house and digging up bones in their graveyard? Their spells are powerful, but so are mine. Had you only suffered from theirs, you might not have made it home for several days."
Eleri accepted that. She understood the surprise that the Dauphine sisters had felt when she’d walked through their gates. As it turned out, she didn’t have the magical powers to counteract a spell. Grandmere did.
Donovan stood up abruptly, headed into the back room, and brought out his go bag. He laid it on the table and started pulling things out. Apparently, he’d removed his clothing earlier and put it into the drawers. Now the pieces inside rattled, and Eleri saw that he was already getting started.
Donovan turned to Grandmere. "Look, I want you to understand I haven't turned any of this on, but I had it with me because we needed to set up mobile hotspots in Montana. Now I need to do it here as well."
"This technology," Eleri told Grandmere, "is as secure as it can be."
Grandmere nodded, and Eleri understood that Grandmere's understanding of “secure technology” was that the words were an oxymoron. But Eleri was ready to welcome any security she could get her hands on, whether it was the FBI's or Grandmere's.
Donovan continued setting up on the table. Eleri knew that most people set up routers in the corner of the room or tucked under them the furniture. Donovan was setting this up smack in the middle, where Grandmere could see it and know that technology was not invading her home from the corners. If he did it on purpose, it was a kind gesture, Eleri thought.
In moments, his laptop was open and he had begun his research. Grandmere stood. "Best I start fixing dinner, now," she said. And slowly, things began to turn toward normal.
Eleri stayed on the couch for just a few more minutes trying to absorb the blows that had come her way. But she knew they weren't done coming.
Donovan motioned to her. "El, you've got to come see this." He pointed to his computer screen.
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Not sure what she would see, Eleri forced herself to walk over to where Donovan pointed to his computer screen.
He'd wasted no time. Grandmere had said yes, and within minutes, Donovan was researching. What he showed Eleri on his screen was land tracts, which she had not expected. She frowned at him.
"Well, I wanted to find the Dauphine home,” said, looking up at her. “This building says it's a courtyard home. That matches what you've talked about. It’s also inside a radius of walking distance from where Royal Street and Mystic Vudu are." He mentioned that the property was deeded to a “Tempeste Dauphine” and a few other bits of information that had gotten him this lead.
Eleri nodded along, following his reasoning. He’d even pulled up a street view and given her the street name. It all suddenly sparked her memory.
"Yes! That's it."
"So take a look, Eleri. This is an interesting block. Most of the other blocks have a street that cuts through, with houses facing each direction." He tapped the laptop screen. "But here, the street stops and picks up at the next block, almost as if two blocks were fused for this one, creating much larger-than-normal tracts of land—slightly over twice as large as the others in the neighborhood. And look at this house," he added, pointing to a different spot on his screen.
Eleri followed where he led, but she was thinking that the courtyard home’s size was deceptive because of its shape. The houses next to it had not had the courtyard center. Looking down from the top, in a birds-eye view, it was easy to see that the Dauphine home sat on a tract at least twice as wide as the others. The depth also pushed into the yards of the homes that butted up against the back of it. She sucked in a breath before saying anything out loud. “Donovan, the amount of land that they have in the middle of the city is incredible.”
Grandmere walked in then. "The Dauphines are wealthy," she said, "but I would not count on where that wealth comes from."
Eleri took that as a solemn warning and nodded. Then she decided she should get out her own research.
So the Dauphines had a lot of land. She wasn't quite sure what Donovan was getting at. But as he soon pointed out, "Look El, there's space back here. There's space for whatever they want to be doing. The courtyard—the way the house is designed, the way the entry doors are—it would be easy for several families to live there and go relatively unnoticed."
