“No one is going to kill me, Kaine.”
“Said the man before he died,” Kaine muttered.
“C’mere.” Grant grabbed her hand and tugged. “Listen. Don’t let him win. We’re obviously getting close to the truth.”
“I know, and that’s basically why he threatened me. When he called, he told me he wanted me to stay away from Foster Hill House. That I shouldn’t have left San Diego.”
“So it all comes back to Foster Hill House.”
Kaine glanced back at the books. Myrtle Foster stared at her. Her dead eyes seemed to come alive, to plead with them to keep investigating.
“I think you’re right.” Grant interrupted her link to the woman on the book cover.
Kaine lifted her face to his.
“Think about it,” he continued. “Two women, both rumored to be crazy, both drawn to Foster Hill House, and yet no historical records kept to complete either of their stories. There had to be a cover-up of something. It’s obvious Gabriella had been held there.”
“That’s a pretty difficult thing to cover up.” Kaine reached back and grabbed the book. “Erasing history?”
“Even you said Ivy’s genealogy in your family Bible stops with her. Why?”
Kaine met Grant’s frank stare. She grimaced. “I don’t know.”
“Get this.” Grant snagged the book from her hands and flipped a few pages into it. “Gabriella’s body and Ivy’s attack and subsequent suspicions around Foster Hill House took place forty years after Myrtle Foster claimed she’d seen strange women wandering the halls of her home in the middle of the night.”
“What?” Kaine leaned forward and stared down at the words on the page.
Grant nodded. “I was reading while you were in the station. Myrtle claimed she would awaken periodically in the night only to see figures that were never accounted for. It says that to go back to sleep, Myrtle played piano into the wee hours of the morning. Beethoven. She was partial to Beethoven.”
“Piano music and ghosts? In the middle of the night?” Kaine shook her head slowly. “This gets more farfetched the deeper we dig.”
Grant reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He gave her his quirky smile, the sideways one that hinted of mischief and daring at the same time. “Then let’s keep digging.”
Chapter 35
Kaine’s mouth watered when Joy set the bowl of green beans in the middle of her dining room table. Megan grinned. “I love green beans! But I need butter, please.”
She pointed to the butter plate, and Grant handed it to her. “Go easy and leave some for me.”
Megan laughed. She was so full of glee. Precious. Hopeful. Her twenty-two years hadn’t scarred her like the other women Kaine knew.
Joy passed Kaine the platter of lasagna. While green beans and lasagna was an odd combination, Kaine was hungry. The pasta tickled her nose with scents of garlic and oregano, and cheese—lots of Wisconsin mozzarella cheese. She noted the bright red of the sauce from a jar. Danny’s mother was Italian and made her marinara sauce from scratch. Kaine took a bite and savored it. From a jar or not, it was delicious.
“The police called today.” Joy’s announcement stilled Kaine’s fork on its journey to her mouth. She had intentionally tried to leave Joy out of her situation. It was bad enough she was presuming upon the woman’s hospitality, but if the man decided to threaten Joy, or God help her, Megan, in any way, Kaine might lose her mind.
Joy smiled. “Don’t worry. They just wanted to verify that you were staying with me. Apparently, they’re going to send a squad car around at different intervals, for your protection.”
Her protection. Their protection. The message was very clear.
Grant met her eyes across the table. “That’s a good thing, Kaine.”
“And you won’t have to sleep on the couch, Mr. Jesse, with your loaded shotgun. You can go home.” Joy chuckled, and Kaine shot Grant a sharp look.
He grinned. “You want to get rid of me?”
“Never,” Joy replied.
“You keep the gun loaded?” Concern edged into Kaine’s voice. She was quickly losing her appetite.
Grant waved his empty fork between her and Joy. “I protect my women,” he mumbled around a mouthful of lasagna. “And I’m not going home. Sophie and I are staying put. On the couch.”
Kaine rested her fork on her plate without eating the bite stabbed on its prongs. She knew Joy and Grant were trying to add levity to a dire situation, but she was nauseated all the same. “I hate putting you all in the middle of this mess. I thought that one day, when the police found Danny’s killer, it would all subside and I could just keep building my virtual assistant consulting job and make enough money to paint rooms in my new house and buy vintage furniture at estate sales.”
The wrinkles at the corners of Joy’s eyes deepened with sincerity. “Well, I say we stop ruminating on what could be and discuss what is. You both like to leave me out of the discussion as if I were some old gooney.”
“That’s not true,” Grant said, and winked at Kaine. But she still wasn’t feeling the humor.
“Joy, I want to protect you. I don’t know who this guy is, but he doesn’t seem to discriminate who he targets. He’s even set his sights on Grant.”
“Well, don’t that beat all!” Joy took a drink of water, then plunked down the glass. “Listen here, I’ve got at least thirty years on you both, and I was born and raised in Oakwood. Why don’t you lay out all you’ve found so far and see if I can fill in any gaps?”
It was a nice thought. But Joy wasn’t a historian. Even Patti, with her fixation on Foster Hill House, couldn’t fill in the gaps when Grant questioned her at the library. Joy was just a loving eccentric who worked at a gas station to provide for her special-needs daughter.
Grant didn’t seem to care, though, and he launched into a recap.
“Gabriella was definitely held at that house against her will, based on what we’ve read in her writings that we found at the house,” Grant finished. “The amazing thing is, whoever she was, she had faith that could move mountains. She saw hope where most women would see abandonment.”
“See?” Joy poked her fork in Kaine’s direction. “Hope isn’t a waste of time, sweetie. You’ve got to cling to those promises, and the Lord will provide the rest.”
Kaine didn’t fully believe it. “He provided for Gabriella by allowing her to be murdered and stuffed in a tree.” She shot a wary look at Megan. She didn’t want to upset the girl, but Megan met her eyes and smiled.
She nodded. “It’s okay, Kaine, I’m fine.”
Smart as a whip, that Megan.
“Kaine Prescott.” Joy’s voice had an edge to it and turned mother hen on her. Kaine had no choice but to listen. “You’re looking at things backward. As if this life and all it has to offer is all there is. It sounds as if this Gabriella could teach us all a thing or two about seeing beyond this world and setting our eyes on Jesus instead.”