“Tallish and slender. Dark blond hair. Midthirties. Why?”
“A young man accompanied Mrs. Durant and Miss Toombs to the Institute this morning. He didn’t come in, but I saw him pacing in the parking area when I walked them out to their car. He was younger than the man you described. Early twenties, I would guess, and his hair was very pale.”
“I know who you mean. He was here just a few minutes ago. You didn’t see him at the entrance? Nelda called him Micah. He’s her great-nephew, which would make him Louvenia’s grandson, I suppose.”
“Ah. Then that makes sense. Mrs. Durant mentioned earlier that her grandson had been away for a number of years but had recently returned to live with her on the farm. I gather he thinks a restoration would be a waste of her money.”
“Yes, Nelda said he was against it.”
Dr. Shaw’s expression turned anxious. “That young man... His presence was extremely unnerving. It’s hard to explain, but I actually experienced a chill down my spine when he turned his eyes upon me.”
“I felt it, too, but he’s not the only one who unnerved me today. Do you remember what you told me about Ezra Kroll’s twin sisters? When one of them died, the other tried to cover her passing by using cloves to disguise the smell. I’m certain Nelda Toombs was that girl. The living twin.”
“I’ve had the same thought,” Dr. Shaw said with a nod.
“She called her sister Mott, which is the name in the stereoscope’s inscription. She also said I look very much like someone named Rose, the last person buried in Kroll Cemetery. But it’s not just that I look like her. Her last name was Gray and my middle name is Rose.”
His snowy brows lifted. “That would be an extraordinary coincidence, wouldn’t it? Have you spoken to anyone in your family about the resemblance?”
“No. My father would be the one to know if there’s a connection, but I’ve been reluctant to bring him into this because he’s not always the easiest person to talk to.” Papa’s withdrawal was only a small part of my reluctance. I was afraid to uncover any more of his secrets because they had a way of changing my life.
“Dr. Shaw...” I paused, glancing up into the trees as a breeze rustled the leaves. “Something very strange is going on with these women.” I didn’t just mean Louvenia Durant and Nelda Toombs, but also the blind ghost and the hunchback in-between. All of them were linked. By blood, by friendship, perhaps even by death. But how were they connected to me?
“Something strange indeed,” Dr. Shaw said. “However, I’m afraid further speculation will have to wait until later. The ceremony is about to start and afterward I’ll be tied up with committee business for the rest of the day. Could you come by the Institute tomorrow? Say around two?”
“I’ll be there.”
He offered his arm. “Shall we join the others?”
“Yes, by all means,” I said wearily. “Let’s get this over with.”
*
Dr. Shaw spoke first on behalf of the committee and afterward I was called upon to say a few words about my work. I made no mention of the violent history that lay beneath the cemetery but instead touched upon the methods and techniques I’d employed and how, even though cemetery restoration was my business, I always encouraged cemetery preservation. Too much damage to stone, layout and symbolic foliage could be wrought by the hands of the well-meaning but untrained restorer. Then I ended my remarks as I always did with what Papa called the cardinal rule of cemetery visitation: take nothing, leave nothing behind.
A smattering of polite applause and murmurs of appreciation, a few questions and it was all over. I returned the gate key to Dr. Shaw and breathed a sigh of relief at the closing of a very dark and disturbing chapter in my life.
Temple came up beside me. “You’ve become an engaging speaker. You had that group in the palm of your hand.”
“Thanks. I learned from the best,” I said, referring to my time with her in the state archaeologist’s office.
She was silent for a moment. “What I said earlier about your relationship with Devlin. That you’re an unlikely pairing. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t. As you said, I’ve thought the same thing myself on occasion.”
Her expression sobered. “Can I be frank? I worry about you sometimes.”
I looked at her in surprise. “Why?”
“A person doesn’t go through what John Devlin did and come out unscathed. That man has darkness in him.”
“We all have darkness,” I said.
“Not like him. Surely it hasn’t escaped your notice that bad things happen to the people around him.”
My hackles rose in defense. “You can’t blame him for that.”
“Maybe not, but—”