Chapter 5

Suzy’s “Book Nerds” arrived during the third week of June. Lydia Park, a petite Korean woman in her early thirties who owned a bookstore in Northern California, showed up first. Madge Stutsman, a special collections librarian at Columbia University, came next. Madge had taken a leave of absence in order to spend the summer in Havenwood, and she assured Ella Mae that she’d been looking for an excuse to flee New York City for a spell when she got Suzy’s call.

“I’ve been working in the same library for nearly thirty years,” she told Ella Mae and Adelaide over cocktails on the patio. “It’s been ages since I took a vacation. There are always too many books and manuscripts requiring my attention.” She smiled. “I think my boss was glad to see me go. Without the musty old lady around, I suspect there’ll be parties in the stacks every day.”

“Well, we’re grateful to have you,” Adelaide had said to their guest. “Is there anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable?”

Madge had one request in particular. “I’d like to Facetime my cats once a day. I am a self-confessed crazy cat lady and I won’t be able to work without knowing that they’re being properly cared for. I’d rather speak to them without Miss Lulu or Charleston Chew contributing to the conversation. Is there a quiet place for me to make these calls?”

“You can use my late husband’s study,” Adelaide said. “The dogs aren’t allowed inside and the walls are very thick. You’ll have all the privacy you need.”

The last of Suzy’s friends to knock on Partridge Hill’s door was a professor of history from Oxford University. Henry Matthews wore silver spectacles and a bow tie. Upon entering Partridge Hill, he bent over Adelaide’s hand as though he were a knight and she, his lady. A taciturn man in his late sixties, he lit up like a lamp whenever Adelaide was around. Ella Mae took an instant liking to the professor. A brilliant scholar, he described historical events with such detail and passion that she could readily picture them in her mind.

“Your students are lucky,” she told Henry one evening as she studied another obscure book on floral symbols. “You make history leap off the page by infusing every battle, marriage, and diplomatic treaty with energy and color. The topics I once viewed as black and white—all those dates and facts—transform into vibrant people, places, and feelings. Is that your gift? Being able to make people visualize historical events?”

Henry had smiled at her. “No, but thank you for the compliment. My ability is being able to catch brief glimpses of the past. This occurs when I touch certain objects.”

Ella Mae wished Henry had been in Havenwood earlier. He could have touched the items in Bea’s hotel room. Perhaps he’d have seen what happened to her the night she died. Believing his ability might still prove useful, Ella Mae had asked Henry if he’d be willing to touch something belonging to Loralyn.

“I doubt my gift would help you find her,” he’d answered. “I might see her as a child, as a high school student, or as she was six months ago. Considering she hasn’t touched anything in her house recently, I don’t think I’d be of much use.”

Ella Mae had replayed that conversation many times since then. Even now, as she sat at the end of the dock with Hugh, she returned to it.

“You’re drifting away again,” Hugh said, sliding his arm around her waist.

Caught out, she smiled at him. “Just a little.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Taking his hand in hers, she raised it to the star-filled sky. “When you left Havenwood to search for an object to restore your powers, how did you decide where to go first? How did you navigate?”

Hugh’s jaw tightened. He was still reluctant to speak of his journey. “I’m not as smart as Suzy’s friends, but there are so many Greek myths about magical weapons that I decided to start my search in Greece. I didn’t have access to the materials those book people do, so I had to convince the locals of whichever town I was visiting to trust me. To share their local legends. Loralyn might be doing the same thing. However, she has a magical advantage, and you can bet that she’s using her siren’s powers to get people to tell her what she wants to know.”

“You were friends with her when we were kids—one of the few people she genuinely liked.” Releasing Hugh’s hand, Ella Mae continued to stare at the stars. “Can you think of something she might have touched before leaving town? Something she felt sentimental about?”

“I’m not sure if she really liked me, Ella Mae, or if she just manipulated me the way she manipulated dozens of other men. It’s what she does. And no, I have no idea what she might have touched.” Hugh stretched out on the dock and slid his hands under his head. In the moonlight, his face looked like sculpted marble, and Ella Mae touched him to reassure herself that his skin was warm. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her down to him. For a while, neither of them spoke.

A loud splash from the middle of the lake caught their attention.

“Do you miss it? Being a water elemental?” Ella Mae whispered. “Tell me the truth.”

“The memories fade a bit each day,” he said, sitting up to gaze out at the dark water. “It’s almost as though that life belonged to someone else. When I’m at Canine to Five, or hanging out with the crew at the fire station, I can’t believe I used to be so different.” He turned to her. “What about you?”

Ella Mae glanced up at the hills. “My one regret is that I can’t enter the grove again. There’s nothing like it in our world, Hugh. It has a lavender sky and velveteen grass. The air is perfumed with jasmine and the trees in the orchard bear gold or silver apples. There’s a rolling meadow dotted with hundreds of wildflowers and a veritable rainbow of butterflies. And it’s always the right temperature. No matter what the season on this side of the barrier, it’s beautiful inside the grove.” She paused. “And I’ll never see it again.”

Hugh squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be. You gave up an entire world of mystery too. You could explore the depths of any ocean. Any river or lake. But we have a new adventure to look forward to—the one we’re taking together.”

“I just wish I could help find Loralyn,” Hugh said. “Memories of my own search are really fragmented. So are those last days I spent with Loralyn. They’re fading too—probably because I was under a spell then. What I do remember is her motive for fighting you. She wants to free her father. And because that’s her goal, I believe she’d visit him before setting off on a long journey. I’m not sure if the professor could get a reading from Jarvis Gaynor, but it might be worth a shot.”

Ella Mae’s eyes widened. “I think you’re on to something! I’ll ask Verena to have Buddy make a few calls. If we can confirm that Loralyn stopped to visit Jarvis, it would be a start. There’s no point in taking Henry to the prison unless Loralyn brought her father an object, and I don’t think prisoners are allowed gifts.”

Hugh shrugged. “A letter maybe?”

“Which he’d never show me,” Ella Mae said dismally. “I’m the reason he’s incarcerated in the first place.”

“Too bad you don’t know the warden. You could have Jarvis’s cell tossed,” Hugh joked. “Seriously, though. Tackle one thing at a time. Find out if Loralyn stopped by. If so, enlist someone else to talk to Jarvis. He’s always had a weakness for pretty blondes.”

Ella Mae pursed her lips in disapproval. “So he has. And that weakness tore his family apart. Unfortunately, the prettiest blonde I know would like nothing more than to plunge a dagger into Jarvis’s heart.”

“Jenny?”

“Yes. Not only did Jarvis reduce her Tennessee grove to ash, but he also killed her best friend. She hates that man more than any person on this earth.”

Hugh brushed a strand of hair off Ella Mae’s cheek. “But she loves you. If you need her help, she’ll give it to you.”

As it turned out, Ella Mae never had the chance to ask Jenny. Buddy and the prison warden were college buddies who’d kept in touch through the years. So when Verena convinced her husband to make inquiries about Jarvis Gaynor, the warden was happy to oblige. He told them that Jarvis had received only one visitor since his incarceration and zero correspondence. He spent most of his time reading books from the prison library and, when forced to join the other inmates in the dining hall or exercise yard, kept to himself.

“I wish more of my inmates were like Jarvis Gaynor,” the warden had told Uncle Buddy.

Verena had snorted in response to this comment. “He wouldn’t say that if he knew about Jarvis’s fiery temper!”

Buddy learned that Jarvis’s sole visitor had been Loralyn. However, her visit had occurred shortly after her father’s sentencing and Jarvis had refused to see her.

“He’s a cruel man,” Ella Mae muttered, recalling the scene in the Gaynors’ library when Jarvis had told Opal and Loralyn that he’d tried to sire a son with another woman because he was disappointed with his current wife and child. He’d committed arson and murder in an attempt to replace one family with another. This declaration should have made Loralyn loathe him. Instead, she blamed Opal for the ruination of their family and vowed to secure her father’s freedom.

With another plan thwarted, Ella Mae returned to Partridge Hill and told Henry Matthews that his gift was her best and only chance of finding a clue that would lead her to Loralyn.

“I’m willing to accompany you to her home,” the professor said after reluctantly closing the book he’d been reading. “But the exercise may prove futile. The young lady could have been thinking all manner of things before she left. You already told me that she was physically weak—drained of her power—and possibly filled with anger and shame as well.”

“More like fury and humiliation,” Ella Mae murmured.

Henry spread his hands. “There you have it. Should I be fortunate enough to handle something Loralyn touched prior to her departure, I may only read a tumult of emotions. I don’t expect to see a road map with a town circled in red ink.”

“I know,” Ella Mae said. “And while I realize that what you’re doing here is very important, it’s already July.” She glanced at the wall calendar Suzy had tacked to one of the whiteboards now hanging in the library. “Opal’s fading.”

Following her gaze, Henry nodded solemnly. “We’ll go tomorrow.”

*   *   *

Ella Mae hadn’t been to Rolling View for two weeks, and she was pleasantly surprised to see a battalion of groundskeepers tending to the lawn and flowerbeds. Horses were being exercised in the rings outside the stables, and a housekeeper in a starched uniform met Ella Mae and Henry at the front door.

“Good morning, Ms. LeFaye,” the woman said cheerfully. “Mrs. Gaynor is finishing her acupuncture treatment and asked me to show you to the sunroom. She and Dr. Kang will be down directly.”

The housekeeper led them past a center table featuring an enormous arrangement of chrysanthemums. As they walked down the hall, Ella Mae noticed the flowers in every room. She’d never seen so many shades or varieties of chrysanthemums in one place.

“Has Mrs. Gaynor developed a sudden fondness for mums?” she asked the housekeeper.

“The doctor uses them to treat Mrs. Gaynor,” the housekeeper answered. “None of us understand exactly how he does it, but we don’t care. He’s the first person to give her any relief in weeks. She’s finally eating a little, and yesterday, she even went for a short walk.”

Ella Mae smiled over this news. “That’s wonderful.”

“I’ve laid out her favorite treats for tea, but Dr. Kang will decide what she can eat. He says her treatment is about balance.” She pointed at a porcelain teapot and a glass pitcher of iced tea. “There’s hot English breakfast or cold peach tea. The doctor will have a special herbal tea for Mrs. Gaynor. They should be along shortly.”

Henry helped himself to several finger sandwiches and shortbread cookies before selecting a chair near a potted fern. Ella Mae, who was too distracted by the news about Opal and the presence of the mysterious Dr. Kang to focus on the tea spread, walked over to a tall vase of golden chrysanthemums and leaned in to sniff the flowers.

“Good for boosting digestion and increasing blood flow to the heart.”

Ella Mae glanced up to find an elderly Chinese man standing in the doorway next to Opal Gaynor. He was small and stooped with powder-white hair, and his gaze was sharp and intelligent. He wore black pants and a red shirt with a dragon embroidered on the lower right side. Though Opal was dressed in similar garb, her moss-green shirt and pants were unadorned and appeared to be made of cotton.

Opal looked much better than she had when Ella Mae had last visited Rolling View. Her face was a touch fuller and her skin wasn’t as sallow.

“This is Dr. Kang,” Opal said. “He came from China to treat me, and I am very fortunate that he was willing to take my case.”

Dr. Kang bowed to Henry, who politely returned the gesture. He then bowed even more deeply to Ella Mae. “It is an honor to meet you, Queen of the Clovers.”

“The honor is mine.” Ella Mae waved a hand at Opal. “We’re very grateful that you’ve come to help our friend.”

“Sit now,” the doctor commanded in a whisper-thin voice and Opal instantly complied. “Ruiping will bring tea and mushroom barley broth. You must finish both. Sip slowly. Feel the heat of the liquid enter your body. Feel it warm your mouth, your throat, and your stomach. Feel it penetrate your cells. The herbs are warriors. They are entering your body to defend you. Relax and invite them in.”

A tall, slender Chinese woman slipped into the room. She spoke a soft hello to Ella Mae and Henry, served Opal her tea and broth, and then left as silently as she’d entered.

“I practice Qigong,” the doctor said once he was satisfied that Opal was drinking her tea. “It is an ancient treatment focusing on the energy flow in the body. Cancer interrupts this flow. Imagine a network of rivers blocked by debris. Pieces of trash prevent the clean water from traveling freely. That is what is happening inside this woman.” He pointed at Opal. “I use many techniques to restore the flow. Herbs, food, acupuncture, meditation, cupping. I also possess a special gift. I can see which treatment is working and which is not. Therefore, I can customize my treatments for maximum results.”

Ella Mae darted a quick glance at Opal, an unspoken question in her eyes.

Opal saw the question and said, “No, he can’t cure me. No one can. But he can give me a few more months. Maybe even half a year. I’ll be more like my old self. More importantly, I won’t be confined to a hospital bed. And when the end comes, I’ll go quickly and painlessly. Dr. Kang has promised me that.”

If we find an object of power, you can be completely healed, Ella Mae thought.

Aloud, she said, “Professor Matthews is here to help me locate Loralyn.” She went on to describe Henry’s ability. “We’ll need to explore her bedroom, but is there another place she might have gone before she left town? Did she have a favorite haunt? I know Rolling View is full of hidey-holes and secret nooks. Was one of these special to her?”

Opal looked grieved. “I don’t know. Loralyn and I . . . we weren’t good at talking about personal things. I regret that. I regret that I wasn’t a more loving mother, and I want to apologize to my daughter for that. I loved her, but I didn’t show it. Not enough. I didn’t hold her in my arms or wipe away her tears when she got hurt. I didn’t hum her back to sleep when she woke up, frightened, in the middle of the night. I encouraged strength, toughness, and above all else, pride. What did that get me?” She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “An empty house.”

“Facing your demons is part of your treatment,” Dr. Kang said. “It is good to say these things out loud. It exorcises toxic energy from your body.”

After pausing to take a sip of tea, Opal faced Ella Mae again. “As for Loralyn having sentimental places or objects, I have no idea. In recent years, she’s been focused on work and doing her part to increase the family’s reputation.”

“What about her nail salons? The managers haven’t heard from her at all. I’ve called both locations.”

“Things are running smoothly and profits are piling up in the bank, but Loralyn hasn’t been in touch.” Opal turned to Henry. “I’m sorry, Professor Matthews. I wish had more useful information for you.”

Setting his teacup aside, Henry got to his feet. “Please don’t apologize. It’s a pleasure to spend the morning in such a lovely home. I just hope we don’t upset the housekeeper too much by moving things around.”

At this, Opal grinned. “Rearrange as much as you like. The poor woman is dying of boredom. With just myself, Dr. Kang, and Ruiping living here, she has nothing to do. She’s accustomed to biweekly dinner parties, luxurious Sunday brunches, bridge nights, and book clubs. The monotony is driving her mad.”

“All right, then, I’ll make a real mess of things.” Henry winked at Opal and moved to the door, where he waited for Ella Mae to accompany him upstairs.

“Once you reach the landing, take the hallway to the left. Loralyn’s bedroom is at the end of the corridor,” Opal said.

Loralyn’s room was cold and vacuous. Ella Mae glanced from the gray satin sheets and the plum-colored blanket on the waterbed to the floor-to-ceiling mirror positioned on the opposite wall and rolled her eyes. “This is definitely a diva’s bedroom.”

“Right down to the crystal chandelier and framed prints of designer high heels,” Henry said.

Every item in Loralyn’s room centered on beauty or fashion. Henry’s fingers traveled over makeup cases, jewelry boxes, perfume bottles, hand mirrors, and stacks of fashion magazines.

He suddenly pulled back, frowning.

“What is it?” Ella Mae asked in concern.

“She’s not a very nice person, is she?”

Ella Mae couldn’t count the number of times she’d been humiliated by Loralyn when they were children. “No, but you heard her mother. I don’t think she knew much warmth as a girl. She was rarely praised, hugged, or kissed. And when she came into her gifts and learned that she was a siren and could manipulate people—men in particular—she didn’t hold back.”

Henry laced his hands together. “I often feel intrusive, catching glimpses of another person’s life. In other cases, such as this, I feel tainted.” He cast his gaze around the room. “I’d rather only touch things that might lead us to a tangible clue. These other items are clearly unimportant, and quite frankly, they’re giving me a bleak outlook on the future of the human race.”

“She’s not that bad,” Ella Mae said with a laugh. “Believe me, I’ve met worse.”

There was a collection of framed photographs on Loralyn’s dresser and Henry crossed the room to examine them. Curious, Ella Mae followed behind. She was unsurprised to find that most of the images showed Loralyn posing at one of her salons or with a celebrity at a horse race.

When the photos failed to provide useful feedback, Ella Mae pointed at an image of Loralyn and a Hollywood actress standing beside a magnificent chestnut Thoroughbred.

“You know, when Loralyn was in grade school, she was really attached to a particular colt. Her father sold the colt even though he knew the sale would break his daughter’s heart. That horse went on to win dozens of major races. I’ve seen pictures of him in a display case at the main stable. Maybe we should check out that case.”

Henry agreed, but he wanted to be certain they hadn’t missed anything in Loralyn’s room first. He wasn’t comfortable searching her drawers, so he focused on the contents of her closet. As for Ella Mae, she had no misgivings about riffling through Loralyn’s things.

Fifteen minutes later, she stood up and sighed in exasperation. “If there was anything of personal value here, Loralyn must have taken it with her. This place is like a giant dressing room. That’s all it is. It could belong to any woman.”

“Let’s go down to the stables,” Henry said, and Ella Mae could tell that he was eager to escape the glitzy, perfume-scented bedroom.

Ella Mae stopped by the sunroom to give Opal an update, but the housekeeper informed her that Dr. Kang had taken his patient back upstairs for a period of meditation and rest. Ella Mae thanked her and said that, after dropping by the stables, she and Henry would take their leave.

“If we have any news for Mrs. Gaynor, we’ll be sure to call,” Ella Mae said as she and Henry exited the house.

The stables, which were cool and clean, smelled of fresh hay. Henry whistled when he saw the row of display cases filled with photographs and newspaper clippings highlighting the success of the horses born and bred at Gaynor Farms.

“They’ve raised dozens of winners,” Henry said, clearly impressed. “Winners on major tracks including the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness, Belmont, Santa Anita, Churchill Downs. Ms. Gaynor is present in most of these photos. Which is the horse she loved most?”

Ella Mae searched for the chestnut gelding with a white blaze and three white socks. “Here he is. Loralyn’s Romeo.”

“Magnificent animal.” Henry opened the glass door. His fingertips stretched out toward the photograph of Loralyn and the horse. For once, Loralyn wasn’t posing for the camera. She had her cheek pressed against Romeo’s face and her arm curled possessively under his head. A jockey sat on Romeo’s back and waved at the camera, but it was obvious that the woman and the horse were lost in a moment that belonged only to them.

Once again, Ella Mae felt a rush of pity for her former nemesis. She was just about to express her feelings when Henry suddenly turned to her.

“I saw her. She stood right here with a duffel bag in each hand. She dropped the bags to open the case. She kissed this picture. Her eyes were filled with sorrow. And a cold anger.” Henry gazed into the middle distance as he recited the details of his vision. “She wore jeans and a white blouse and carried a purse stuffed with various items. There was a small notebook sticking out of the purse. It was opened to a page covered with writing. I couldn’t read the words, but I was able to spot a flower symbol. I don’t know if the symbol means anything, but we should return to Partridge Hill so I can draw it while it’s still fresh in my mind.”

“There was nothing else?” Ella Mae asked, unable to conceal her disappointment.

Henry gave her a small smile.

“Like I said, it was unlikely that I’d see a roadmap with a town circled in red ink. We’ll just have to hope the flower symbol provides us with a tangible clue.”

Ella Mae brightened. “Luckily, I live with someone who is an expert on flowers.”

“Indeed you do.” Henry’s smile became so radiant that Ella Mae knew he was thrilled to have an excuse to speak with her mother.

“Tell you what,” she said, pulling out her phone and pretending to frown over something she saw on the screen. “Do you mind talking to my mom alone? I have a ton of things to do. I can catch up with you later tonight.”

Barely disguising his glee, Henry said, “I should be able to manage.”

He whistled all the way back to Partridge Hill.

*   *   *

That night, when Ella Mae, Suzy, and the Book Nerds gathered in the library to conduct their research, Adelaide joined them. She walked to the whiteboard positioned in front of the fireplace and stared at a crude drawing of a flower.

“As soon as Henry showed this to me, I thought of the apple blossom. There are other possibilities, but because he was certain that the flower had five petals and over a dozen stamens, I’m convinced that it’s an apple blossom.”

Suzy nodded in excitement. “That’s a start. What else can you tell us?”

“This flower is related to the rose and is very, very old.” Adelaide looked at the drawing with reverence. “There’s evidence that apple trees grew in Jordan as far back as 6500 BC. This is an ancient flower. In terms of magic, that means it’s very powerful.”

“The apple is the symbol of immortality,” Henry said solemnly. “In the myths of many cultures, the apple promises long or everlasting life.”

Ella Mae groaned. “Not good. This symbol provides us with no leads as to where Loralyn went, but it suggests that she could be searching for an object that grants immortality. I don’t think humanity is up to an endless future filled with Loralyn Gaynor’s plots and schemes.”

Suzy pushed a pile of books toward Lydia and another toward Madge. “Let’s get cracking, friends. It’s going to be another late night.” She then passed Ella Mae the corkscrew. “We’d better skip the wine. Times like this call for coffee. Vats and vats of coffee.”