The Vanderhorst mausoleum was hard to miss. Even before I’d been forcibly schooled in architectural styles, courtesy of Dr. Sophie Wallen-Arasi, I’d recognized that there was nothing ordinary about this particular mausoleum.
I cleared my throat as we approached. “It was built in the Egyptian Revival style. Notice how there aren’t any arches? Instead, Egyptians set their walls at seventy-degree angles to make their structures strong and sound.”
“You’ve been Googling again, haven’t you?” Jack asked, half of his mouth lifted in a grin.
“Maybe. Or maybe I just know stuff.”
“Okay. What are these?” He pointed to the two stone columns flanking the inset door.
I frowned. “Columns?”
Jayne snickered softly as Jack sighed. “They’re lotus columns, and the door has a cross on it so the whole structure doesn’t look too pagan.”
“I knew that,” I said. I wasn’t lying. I’m sure I’d read it somewhere the previous night while I’d been busy Googling the cemetery so I’d be prepared and know who—if anyone—to expect other than Adrienne.
Our feet sloshed with each step, forcing me to stop and look at the nice leather heels I wore. “On second thought, I’ll let you walk around. The voices are getting loud again, and I’m too tired to block them out.”
“Me, too,” Jayne said, heading back in the direction of the van.
I’d walked only a few steps when I noticed an unusual grave marker near the Vanderhorst mausoleum, but set apart from the cluster of family graves. On the lookout for a grave that might be the final resting place of the Evangeline originally buried in our garden, I gave it a closer inspection. A marble column with a jagged edge for a capital made it appear broken off; a cluster of carved lotus leaves, matching those on the mausoleum, sat gathered on the top. No name or dates appeared on the front, only the dial of a clock showing the time of six thirty in Roman numerals.
“That’s strange,” Jayne said. “I wonder what the clock means. Maybe time of death? Maybe there’s a name on the back.”
I looked down at my shoes and then at the muddy ground between the asphalt path where I stood and the marker.
“I’ll go,” Jack said. “I’m already muddy.” He paused to look at the monument. “You know what it means when the column is broken like that, right?”
“Sure,” I said, not being completely untruthful. I did remember Sophie droning on and on about cemetery statuary at some point, but I’d blocked out most of it. “But you go ahead and tell us.”
His smile could have been construed as a smirk. “It means that the person’s life was cut short. Usually, broken columns indicate a young person is buried there.”
I nodded somberly as Jack headed toward the rear of the monument. When he didn’t say anything, I said, “Can you read the name and dates out loud?”
He didn’t answer right away. Then, “I would if I could. There’s just an odd symbol—nothing I’ve seen before. No name. No date.” He walked around the monument, studying it from top to bottom to see if he’d missed anything.
“Nope. Nada.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket and began taking photos. “I’ll AirDrop to you and Jayne. See if you have any guesses. Could just be a decorative element, but since we’re dealing with the Vanderhorsts, who knows?”
“True,” I said. “And take a picture of the front, too.”
My phone binged with the photos. I opened my phone and used my fingers to enlarge the photo of the rear of the monument on my screen. “At first glance I thought it might be Egyptian hieroglyphics, but it’s not.” I looked up at Jack and Jayne with embarrassment, remembering an earlier confession about how as a lonely child I’d taught myself how to read hieroglyphics.
We’d stopped in front of the van, the three of us bent over our phones, studying the strange carvings.
“It’s very pretty,” Jayne said, “which makes me think it’s just decoration, but I’m not sure. It’s just odd that there’s no name or dates, just this weird symbol and a clockface.”
I studied the picture again, enlarging it as much as I could. The design consisted of a deliberate pattern of elegant lines and curves that at first glance appeared recognizable, but after considerable study, I decided it was just random marks.
“Any guesses?” Jack asked.
Jayne and I shook our heads. I looked up, and when I glanced back at my screen, a small tingle of familiarity struck me. “I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere before. I just can’t think of where.”
“We should show it to Yvonne,” Jack and I said in unison, grinning at each other in goofy surprise.
Jayne rolled her eyes. “Seriously, you two? Get a room.” She slid open the back door of the van and climbed in.
I opened the passenger-side door and stared at the red pillow on the seat. I held it up for Jayne and Jack to see. “It looks like Adrienne was here after all. Maybe she just wasn’t in the mood to talk.”
I buckled my seat belt, resting the pillow in my lap while a dozen questions darted around my head, none of them with answers. My phone dinged with a text. I pulled it out of my bag and stared at the screen, my blood freezing in my veins.
“Everything all right?” Jack asked.
“No,” I said.
I turned the phone so that he and Jayne could read the text. THE END IS NEAR COME JOIN ME IN HELL.
“We need to go back to the attic, don’t we?” Jayne asked softly.
The throbbing in my temples intensified. “Yes,” I reluctantly agreed. “But only after Rebecca’s shower. Although, to be honest, I couldn’t tell you which one I dread more.”
CHAPTER 26