Breyer, Fern Elling’s sister. And thank goodness, the woman’s chest moved up and down with even breaths. Hannah was asleep, not dead, and the shroud over her face was merely a dark scarf flopped forward in her sleep.
Nicole slowly exhaled. She’d leave Hannah to her nap. Pivoting, Nicole’s shoes scraped against the dirt coating the paving stones, and a breath stuttered behind her.
“What?… Oh, my. Who are you?”
Heart sinking, Nicole turned toward Hannah. The woman brushed her scarf out of her face and back on top of her gray curls. Faded-green eyes squinted up at the intruder.
“I’m sorry to disturb you.” Nicole lifted apologetic hands. “It’s Nicole Mattson. Er, you probably know me as Keller. I thought…” She hesitated. “You looked…” How did she tell the other woman she’d mistaken her for dead? “Oh, never mind. I was just passing by and stopped to check on you.”
“Keller? Really?” A debutante’s giggle left Hannah’s throat. “How kind of you. Not many folks around here check on this old gal. Have a seat.” She patted the bench beside her.
Nicole glanced toward her car, half hidden in the trees, and then back toward Hannah. The poor thing looked so hopeful for human companionship, Nicole didn’t have the heart to turn her down, even though her feet wanted to carry her back to her vehicle. She settled on the edge of the bench. A faint lilac scent drifted to her from the other woman.
“Tell me about yourself, Nicole Keller.” Hannah’s pudgy hand patted Nicole’s knee. “My, you’ve gotten grown up. Are you visiting your grandparents, like usual?”
Nicole stiffened and met Hannah’s open gaze. The older woman remembered her? To Nicole’s knowledge, they’d only met once, and that was by accident years ago. “I’m staying with Grandma Jan for a while. Grandpa Frank passed away ten years ago.”
Hannah’s face puckered like a child presented with a puzzle. “Mercy me, how could I forget something like that? Where is my head going to?”
Nicole smiled. “It’s all right. He went peacefully in his own bed.” Not like her father or her husband. She shook off the pinch of grief.
Sadness drooped Hannah’s lips. “He was a good man. A very good man.”
“I agree.” Nicole clasped her hands together in her lap. Frank Keller had nothing to do with the baby buried under his rose garden. Surely, everyone would know that.
Gentle fingers brushed a sweep of hair from Nicole’s cheek. Hannah’s green eyes searched her features. “You look troubled, dear. Do you want to talk about it?”
Nicole shrugged, words crowding to her lips. She did want to talk, to rant, to pull her hair, maybe even scream. But none of those reactions would change anything. They wouldn’t bring her dad back, or her husband, or put that poor child’s bones back into the ground where they couldn’t cast a shadow over everything that still mattered in her life.
“I was just driving around thinking.”
Hannah bobbed her head, scarf tips wagging in rhythm under her full chin. “I do the same thing when I’ve got something on my mind.”
Nicole cast a glance toward the rear door of the house. A small canopy wrapped the portal in deep shadows. What was the police chief in there telling Simon Elling right now? How did the dead child connect with the Ellings? Hannah might know. She was going to find out about Nicole’s discovery sooner rather than later.
She dragged her tongue across dry lips. “The contractors dug up something in my grandparents’ backyard, and I found it.”
Hannah’s face lit. “A treasure?”
Nicole shook her head. She tucked her feet under the bench and gripped the seat with both hands.
“You can’t leave me in suspense!” The older woman grabbed Nicole’s arm. “You simply have to tell me now!”
“I know. But it’s…hard.” She swallowed. “I found a child’s bones.” She winced, more from the sound of those terrible words than from the grip that tightened around her arm. “Who would bury a baby in my grandparents’ backyard?”
Hannah let out a little squeak and released Nicole. Her eyes, mouth and nostrils all formed round O’s. She clasped Nicole in a python’s squeeze. “You found him! Baby Sammy’s been found at last!”
“Baby Sammy?” Nicole’s words came out muffled in Hannah’s lilac-scented bosom.
Hannah set her away. Tears streamed into every crevice of the older woman’s face. “The dearest little boy on the planet. Little Samuel Elling. He went missing over fifty years ago. I’d given up that he’d be found.” Her hands flapped like an excited bird. “We must tell Simon straight away.”
She leaped up, but Nicole grabbed her hand. “The police are here already.”
“Then we must hurry.” Hannah tugged Nicole to her feet. The woman was as strong as she was stout. “I need to see Simon’s reaction when he’s told his heir has been found. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”
“Just a minute. I don’t understand.”
“You will soon enough.” Hannah hurried up the flag-stones toward the house. “Come along, dear.”
Nicole scurried to keep up. “I don’t know if I should. I mean, I’m not family.”
“Oh, pish. I’m family and I invited you. You’re entitled. After all, you found him.”
Joy pulsed from the woman as if Nicole had announced the child was about to be returned alive. Maybe Hannah’s muddled mind had misunderstood. But how could she?
When Nicole was a little girl, Grandma Jan had warned her about the people who lived in this house, and the warning had struck deep. Her grandmother wasn’t one to speak ill of others. Of course, everyone knew about Melody, the ice queen, and her prima-donna ways. But it wasn’t about her that Grandma had cautioned the most. It was Hannah. Grandma gave her orders to stay away from the woman in the funny clothes.
But Nicole hadn’t seen a thing to fear in the mixed-up woman—either now or the day she ran into her, literally. Twelve-year-old Nicole had been trotting along on a main street sidewalk eager to meet up with some friends, then boom! She came up short against a stout figure emerging from Darlene’s Beauty Shop. The scent of lilac enveloped her then as it had today, and she looked up into the dreaded woman’s face, steeled for a scolding. Only Hannah hadn’t said one harsh word. She’d asked who Nicole was and seemed pleased to meet the Kellers’ granddaughter. She’d smiled and dug in her purse then swished off up the street, leaving Nicole with a pair of wide eyes and a peppermint in her hand.
Ahead of Nicole, Hannah’s crinoline swished exactly the way it had twenty years ago, and the ’50s dancing slippers on her feet tapped the stones. She led the way up three steps, pulled open the door and motioned Nicole inside.
Nicole hesitated. She was about to enter the boogeyman’s lair. Not that a childhood ghost story had any hold on her now. Her fears had way more substance. What did her grandparents have to do with the missing heir of the town’s founding dynasty? Rich might not be happy to see her barging in, but anything she could find out about
