“What do you mean they never saw Agnes again? What happened to her?” Maggie asked.
“Her father had her committed to an institution in Atlanta. They say he blamed her ‘unstable mind’ for her immoral behavior. However, within a few months of that fateful night her father died from a heart attack. Agnes was his only child. Her mother had died during childbirth. He’d not changed his living will and everything was left to Agnes: the plantation, all his money, and his stock interests in most of the businesses in Sweetwater. Agnes was a smart girl. She hired a lawyer, was released from the institution, and declared cured. She’d moved back into Devereaux Manor before the year was up. But she never came into town again, has never been seen again,” Ms. Brandy finished.
“So that’s it? She’s just lived alone in that big house all these years?” Maggie asked.
Ms. Brandy nodded. “She never hires anyone local for work that needs to be done around the house and keeps a very tight circle of servants who are sworn to secrecy. No one knows anyone who has stepped foot in that house in the last seventy years, until you.”
The chime of the front door made Maggie jump as Ms. Brandy’s final statement sunk in. She stood from the floor brushing the dust from her knees as she went to greet the arriving customer. Maggie recognized the man as Aaron’s friend whom she’d met in town a few weeks earlier.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted him. “Mr. Branson, right?” Maggie asked, remembering the name that Aaron had given her when he’d told her about his meetings in Savannah.
The man seemed to hesitate for the slightest second. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” he replied, “as I don’t know your name.”
“Maggie Overton. I’m Aaron’s friend,” she reminded him.
“Oh yes, Aaron mentioned you,” the man answered smoothly. Maggie smiled at that news, flattered that Aaron would mention her to a business associate.
“You’re staying at the Devereaux plantation as well?” he asked.
“For the summer,” Maggie confirmed.
“Aaron is quite the lucky man,” he said, making Maggie blush.
“Are you looking at some property in the area?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“I have some family land nearby.” he replied.
“Is there anything in particular that you are looking for today?” she asked, gesturing around the shop.
“Just browsing,” he replied, but his eyes were riveted on her. Maggie felt a bit uncomfortable under his penetrating stare.
“Please let me know if there is anything I can help you with.” she said, excusing herself.
She returned to the trunk and began organizing the articles that were strewn about the floor. She picked up the old photograph once again. She’d spent a great deal of time contemplating who Ms. Devereaux was, but to hold an actual picture in her hand, to hear her heartbreaking story, it finally made her real.
“It’s getting close to closing time,” Ms. Brandy said, walking back over toward Maggie. “We can finish going through the rest of the trunk tomorrow.”
“May I keep this?” Maggie asked, holding up the old photograph.
“Sure. It seems fitting somehow that you should have it,” Ms. Brandy told her. “Why don’t you go ahead and head home. I’ll close up.”
“Okay, see you tomorrow,” Maggie said. She retrieved her purse from behind the counter and headed out the front door.
As Maggie drove home she was lost in thought. She tried to sort through everything she’d learned about Agnes Devereaux. She was struck with the image of this poor, broken hearted girl, left to live out her life alone. She tried to figure out what would motivate her to bring random strangers into her home so many years later. Maggie couldn’t ignore the haunting similarities between her current situation and Agnes Devereaux’s tragic story. Had she brought them here to recreate her own catastrophic romance? Had she picked them each for this reason?
She glanced in the rearview mirror and realized there was a black car following behind her on the lonely dirt road. Maggie had never seen another car on this road, aside from Aaron’s. She felt a little nervous as she kept glancing back at the car. It was too far back to see the face of the driver. She continued to watch the car as she slowed down to turn into the driveway of Devereaux Manor. The car slowed as well, maintaining its distance.
Once Maggie had made the turn, the car drove past and she let out the breath she’d been holding. Her anxiety was obviously an overreaction to her growing suspicion that perhaps her arrival here hadn’t been random at all. But how had she been chosen? And why?