The Stranger Vanishes, page 14
‘He says the papers you need are in the white desk with the glass knobs.’
‘This is incredible! Of course I know the desk. But Mother went through it and she checked every folder. The one for the insurance policy was empty.’
‘That’s because the papers fell out and got stuck behind the drawer. And by the way, you know what?’
‘What?’
‘I thought limeade would be more green, like a Ninja zombie.’
‘Me, too,’ Max says. ‘By the way, we need to go back and finish watching Ninja Zombie Battle before Dr Drew comes.’
‘Drew Bailey, the veterinarian?’ Doris asks. ‘Are Chance and Spidey all right?’
‘He’s not coming to see them,’ Max informs her. ‘He’s bringing pizza for dinner.’
Doris turns to Bella. ‘Poor Drew. Moonlighting as a deliveryman? I know a lot of people haven’t been able to make ends meet lately, but I never realized—’
‘Dr Drew isn’t a deliveryman!’ Jiffy says. ‘He’s always over at Bella’s. He’s her—’
‘Friend,’ Bella says quickly, feeling her face grow hot like a seventh grader with an embarrassing crush.
Doris grins. ‘And here I thought you might be wallowing in sorrow. No wonder you haven’t joined our drumming circle.’
‘No, it’s not like that. I’m just … I’m not …’
‘Say no more. I understand.’
‘Can happy people join the drumming circle?’ Jiffy asks. ‘Because I’m great at banging on things.’
‘On that note …’ Bella flashes a tight smile from Doris to Naomi and Melinda. ‘We’ll let you all get on with your day. Come on, boys.’
Naomi walks over to Jiffy and crouches beside him so that she’s at eye level. ‘You’re an astonishing young man, Jeffy. I’m going to go call my mother and tell her to look behind the desk drawer, and I’ll let you know what she finds.’
‘It’s Jiffy, by the way. And she’s going to find the papers.’
‘Something tells me you’re right.’ She straightens and turns to Bella. ‘Thank you for tracking me down here. You have no idea how much this means to me. Whether or not the insurance policy turns up in the desk … it’s just really good to know that my father is still … around.’
Back outside, the sun is edging lower in the western sky, though twilight is still a long way off. This is, after all, the summer solstice, and the longest day of the year. Sunset isn’t until nine o’clock or so, and true darkness won’t fall until well after that.
There’s no sign of Lemuel or of Columbus the cat as Bella steers the boys back toward Valley View. Jiffy tottles along the curb like a tightrope walker, arms outstretched – a carefree child once more, unencumbered by the demands of his so-called gift.
‘You did a good thing for that woman, Jiffy,’ she says.
‘Yep, I know.’
But he can’t really know. Not at his age. Even Bella hadn’t grasped, during her own motherless childhood, the true depth of grief and longing. Only in adulthood – in widowhood – does she understand the fierce need to reconnect with a lost loved one, to confirm that a beloved soul lives on in spirit.
Now, having witnessed Naomi’s reaction when she heard ‘Mimi’, Bella can imagine the comfort and healing such validation would bring.
Even the utmost skeptic couldn’t deny that kind of specificity. If Jiffy – if anyone – delivered a message from the other side for ‘Bella Blue’, she would be certain it was from Sam.
As they turn onto Cottage Row, Bella sees that Luther’s car is still parked out front of Valley View, and so is the SUV. It doesn’t mean Mr Stone’s on the premises. Most guests traverse the Dale on foot.
She keeps an eye out for him in the shadows alongside houses, trees, and shrubs. For Lemuel, too, just in case he really is still lurking around the Dale.
‘Hey, Max, you know that barn cat, Columbus?’ Jiffy asks. ‘Do you think he’s the fattest cat in the world?’
‘Yep. He’s even fatter than Chance when she had her babies.’
‘Yep, way fatter! He looks like a black-and-white barn cow! He says me-oooo.’
When they reach Valley View, Bella spots Pandora hurrying toward her across Melrose Park, as if she’d been watching for her. ‘Isabella! There you are!’
‘Here comes Miss Feeney,’ Max observes. ‘Why does she look so mad?’
‘I bet she just noticed that someone picked some of those pink flowers in her back garden the other day,’ Jiffy says. ‘It wasn’t me, by the way. Come on, Max, let’s go watch Ninja Zombies.’
The boys scurry into the house, leaving Bella to face Pandora, who is indeed aggravated about something.
‘Where on earth have you been, Isabella? I’ve been trying to ring you for hours!’
‘We haven’t been gone that long, and I left my phone at home to charge it.’
‘Yes, I’m quite aware of that, now. When I couldn’t reach you, I thought I’d better come over to see if anything was amiss.’
‘Actually, something is amiss – as in, a-missing. Did you by any chance borrow my garden shovel, Pandora?’
‘You know what the bard said, Isabella. “Neither a borrower nor a lender be,”’ she says, with the dramatic inflection of a Shakespearean actor.
‘Then … you didn’t take it?’
Pandora sidesteps the question. ‘Your mother-in-law is quite concerned.’
‘My … mother-in-law? Millicent?’
‘Well, yes, of course. Do you have another mother-in-law I don’t know about?’
‘No, but … what is Millicent concerned about – and how do you know this, anyway?’
‘Because I spoke to her, of course.’
‘She called you?’
‘Goodness, no. She called you.’
‘Then how … oh. You answered my phone while you were in the house.’
‘Of course. And when I told her that you and Max had disappeared, she—’
‘Disappeared! Pandora, we were only down at Doris Henderson’s!’
‘Well, how was I to know? Now, then, Isabella, the reason I needed to speak with you is that I’d like Dr Bailey to stop by to check Lady Pippa when he visits this evening.’
Lady Pippa is Pandora’s Scottish Fold, the most pampered cat in the Dale.
‘What’s wrong with Lady Pippa, Pandora? Is she ill?’
‘Not ill, but she is suffering terribly, poor darling.’
‘Well, did you call the Animal Hospital? Because if you need to set up a house call, that’s the best—’
‘No, no, I don’t require a house call, Isabella.’
‘But you just said you need Drew to come to the house to check your cat, so … that’s a house call.’
‘Well yes, technically, I suppose it would be, if I arranged it through the office, but as he’s a friend and he’ll be in the neighborhood, I don’t believe that’s necessary.’
‘But what’s wrong with Lady Pippa? Because if it’s an emergency …’
‘It isn’t, but she’s so uncomfortable, the poor thing.’
‘Is she injured? What’s wrong?’
‘Fur ball.’
‘You mean she’s trying to cough one up?’
Pandora winces. ‘How revolting. No, it’s on her back – the most unsightly clump of fur.’
‘Maybe you should just … you know, brush her.’
‘I tried, but she became rather fractious. I’d like Dr Bailey to do it. I’m sure it won’t take but a minute. Will you tell him?’
‘I’ll tell him,’ Bella says with a sigh.
Knowing Drew, he’ll go right over to help. He has a soft spot for Lady Pippa, even if he finds her owner … challenging, as he puts it.
‘Thank you, Isabella. Ta-ta.’
‘Wait, Pandora? Do you know, by any chance, whether this house was around during the Civil War?’
‘My goodness, no. Queen Anne architecture originated in the UK and didn’t become popular in the states until the 1880s.’
‘And that’s when Valley View was built?’
‘Yes. There should be paperwork around here somewhere with the details. I’d be happy to help you look.’
‘Oh, no thank you,’ Bella says quickly. ‘I was just wondering about it, that’s all. Have a nice night, Pandora. I’ll tell Drew about Lady Pippa.’
‘Ta, luv.’
Back inside, Bella confirms that the boys have resumed their television program, sans otherworldly interference. She disconnects her cell phone from the charger and sees that she’s missed two calls from her mother-in-law in the last five minutes.
After an apologetic text to Drew about Pandora’s request, she dials Millicent, who answers before the line finishes its first ring.
‘Bella? Are you OK?’
‘Yes, I—’
‘And Max? Where’s Max?’
‘He’s here with me. We just walked down the road to visit a friend for a few minutes.’
‘Oh, thank goodness. George!’ she shouts, in a very un-Millicent, excitable way. ‘I’ve got her on the phone!’
Bella hears the rumble of his voice in the background, and then some shuffling as George comes on the line.
‘Bella? Millicent is so overwhelmed with relief that she’s lost her ability to speak for the moment. I’m sure that won’t last,’ he adds with a chuckle. ‘I’ve never known her to be silent for very long. When your friend told us about the strange man who’d checked in and then disappeared, we were concerned that you and Max had been abducted as well.’
‘Abducted? I don’t think he was – that is, I’m not sure what—’ Hearing a loud knock, she says, ‘I’m sorry, George, someone’s at the door. But please let Millicent know that everything’s fine. I promise I’ll call her back in a bit.’
Bella pockets her phone, heads for the foyer, and finds a familiar, uniformed law officer on the doorstep.
‘Lieutenant Grange!’
‘Ms Jordan.’ The greeting isn’t particularly warm, but he’s the kind of man who probably greets his own mother with a cordial handshake. ‘I’m following up on a missing persons report.’
‘Oh, no! Pandora called you?’
‘No, it was –’ he consults a little notebook – ‘a Mrs Millicent Jordan, of Chicago.’
‘My mother-in-law. Sorry about that. Max and I just stepped out for a little while, and somehow, she got the impression that we’d been … abducted.’
‘I assumed that was the case, but she did mention that a man recently vanished from the premises?’
‘Oh, that. That was …’
She isn’t quite sure what it was, or how to explain it to this granite-jawed cop, whose past visits to Valley View have involved investigating an actual kidnapping, an attempted murder, an actual murder …
‘Ms Jordan?’
‘Yes, I did have a guest check in last night, and he did leave this morning without checking out, but …’
‘I’d say that’s very different from vanishing.’
‘I’d say so, too. Which is why I didn’t report it. But apparently my mother-in-law did.’
‘She did. Mind if I ask you a few questions about this, just to satisfy my curiosity?’
Bella sighs. ‘Not at all. Come on in.’
TEN
To Bella’s relief, Lieutenant Grange had asked a few perfunctory questions about Lemuel and then left, telling her to call if he turns up.
After stirring up a batch of scones for tomorrow’s breakfast and putting them into the oven, she returns to the parlor with the diary.
Lottie’s account of January and early February 1863 revolves around weather, meals, and chores, interspersed with a few personal details. She mentions paying calls on various people in the area – her cousin Horace, home on leave from the battlefront; her ailing friend Mabel; her neighbor Mr Alderson, still grieving the loss of his wife and two young children the previous September to ‘milk sickness’.
Bella slips a bookmark into that page, remembering Odelia’s mention of spilled milk as she was holding the diary.
Soon tragedy hits Lottie much closer to home. The page dated Saturday, February fourteenth reads simply: ‘Unwell all day’. The following one is heartbreaking.
Sunday, February fifteenth
Felt poorly again. A grim turn in the eve. Mr F. went for Doctor Wilson. He said the child could not survive. By the morn it was done. He fetched Ma to help as I must stay abed.
The next page reads only ‘unwell’, as does the next.
Unwell – so innocuous a way to describe such a catastrophic episode in a young woman’s life. Bella pictures her, lying alone in her bed shattered, hurting, mourning, day after bleak winter day.
Wednesday, February eighteenth Snow.
Hot cakes for breakfast. Pa came in the sleigh to fetch Ma. She left stew for our dinner. Wrote to Aunt Edna. Baked biscuits and served them with jam for supper. Mr F. went to a meeting in the eve. Retired at half past seven.
Hearing the stove timer ding in the kitchen, Bella tucks the diary under her arm and stands, thinking about poor Lottie.
Mr F. doesn’t seem to have been much help in the wake of his wife’s ordeal, allowing her to get right back to cooking and serving, then leaving her alone while he went to a meeting. Things were so different back then for women, and yet, reading between the lines, Bella senses that the marriage wasn’t quite newlywed bliss even before the terrible loss of their unborn first child.
But then, can she really discern the state of Lottie’s marriage based on what she read? The diary is a cursory chronicle of events, not feelings or—
Bella cries out, crashing into someone as she rounds the door frame. The little book jolts from her hands.
‘Oh, my, I’m so sorry, Miss Jordan!’ It’s one of the St Clair sisters, surprisingly sturdy for a woman of her age and stature.
Bella isn’t sure whether she’s Ruby or Opal, but the other is right at her heels.
Bella bends over to retrieve the diary. Something flutters from it as she picks it up, and she sees that it’s an old sepia photograph.
A girl stares up at her in the familiar, stiff, nineteenth-century pose. Her mouth isn’t smiling, but her eyes are. Bella turns it over and sees handwriting on the back. It takes her a moment to decipher the faded penmanship.
Charlotte Fadler, 1862, Age Fifteen Years, Pomfret, New York.
So this is Lottie.
Bella tucks the photo into the diary.
‘Is everything all right?’ one of the sisters asks. They’re identical, though they aren’t twins, with white topknots and wire-rimmed glasses, and they always dress alike, with a fashionable flair. Today, they’re wearing black shifts, white cardigans, and chunky silver statement necklaces.
‘Everything’s fine. The spine is just broken, but the pages are intact.’
‘What’s that, dear?’
‘She said, her spine may be broken. You really need to watch where you’re going, Opal! You’re blind as a bat.’
Opal smiles pleasantly and nods.
Ruby sighs and shakes her head at Bella. ‘Hard of hearing, too. Now, I’d better call an ambulance to help with your spinal cord injury.’
‘Actually … I’m sure it’s not broken after all,’ Bella assures her. ‘I’m just fine.’
‘Well, that’s marvelous news, isn’t it, Opal?’
‘Yes, a magnifying glass.’
‘Pardon?’ Bella looks at Ruby, who nods.
‘We need it to confirm a rather remarkable discovery we’ve just made.’
‘I’m not sure I have one, but I’ll check the drawers.’
‘What’s that?’ Opal cups a hand to her ear.
‘She said she keeps one in her drawers.’
‘How strange. But then, Mother always kept some mad money in the waistband of her bloomers, remember, Ruby?’
Bella fights back a smile. In the kitchen, Opal accepts the offer of a fresh scone when Bella removes the steaming tray from the oven, but Ruby refuses after Bella confirms that they contain milk.
‘I’m afraid I’m lactose intolerant.’
Reminded of the diary, Bella asks, ‘Miss St Clair, do you know by any chance if that’s also known as milk sickness?’
‘Milk makes me sick, yes.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, but what I meant was …’ She turns to Opal. ‘Would lactose intolerance be the same thing as milk sickness?’
‘Oh, not me. It’s Ruby who has lactose intolerance,’ Opal says, brushing crumbs from her chin. ‘But I’m terribly allergic to fish.’
Bella gives up, rummaging through the junk drawer. ‘Sorry, ladies. No magnifying glass.’
‘Oh, but you’re a young thing. I’m sure your eyesight is better than ours. Maybe you can help us.’ Ruby holds out an old photograph. ‘We’re trying to discern whether this figure is a man or woman?’
It’s neither. Bella finds herself looking at a cherubic infant in a bonnet and white dress.
‘Um … it’s actually a baby.’
‘Maybe? Maybe what?’ Opal asks.
Bella raises her voice. ‘Sorry, I said, it’s a baby.’
‘My goodness, dear, not the baby. That’s our sweet mother, back in ’98.’
‘1898,’ Ruby clarifies.
‘Well of course! Miss Jordan wouldn’t expect her to have been born a scant few decades ago!’
‘Certainly Miss Jordan was born a few decades ago, Opal, but what does that have to do with Mother? She was born well over a century ago. McKinley was the president,’ she informs Bella. ‘Mother’s family knew him well. He was from Ohio too, you know.’
‘Miss Jordan isn’t from Ohio, Ruby. She’s from—’
‘Not Miss Jordan! We’re from Ohio, dear, as was Mother. Miss Jordan is from New York.’
‘President McKinley was assassinated in Buffalo, New York.’ Opal turns an almost accusatory glance on Bella.
She shifts her weight and clears her throat. ‘Getting back to the photograph, ladies … what was it that you wanted to know?’
‘Whether this orb is a man or a woman.’ Ruby points an arthritic finger at a spot above the baby’s head.
