I stood before a full-length mirror and inspected myself. I hadn’t decided whether I would actually knock on her door or simply take the house in from a distance, but I wanted to make a good impression should this woman and I meet tonight.
My hair had grown past my shoulders over the summer and my curls had loosened with the weight. My skin was fair and lightly freckled. What jumped out at me from the mirror was my mother’s face. I had her high cheek bones and full mouth. My eyes were the same greenish brown shade and had the same peculiar almond slant to them. I resembled her so closely that I sometimes saw the pain on my father’s face. I leaned forward and applied my lipstick carefully. After taking one more good look, I was reasonably satisfied that I couldn’t do any better. I hadn’t brought much with me in the way of clothing; a pair of lightweight khaki slacks and white t-shirt would have to do.
“Good luck.” I whispered to myself the mirror.
Dylan was waiting for me in the lobby of the law office. He’d discarded his Armani suit for a short sleeved white polo shirt, shorts and sneakers. He looked so different I almost didn’t recognize him. He looked thicker somehow, more athletic. During the silent drive, I sneaked glances at him. His hair was curly and cut close to his head. Other than the five o’clock shadow, the only flaw I could see in his skin was the little crease on his cheek that dimpled when he smiled.
“Are you planning to see her or just the house?” His words broke the silence. “I ask because I don’t think she entertains visitors much. I don’t think she even goes out.”
I turned slightly in my seat to face him. “You know her?”
“No one really knows her. I just know about her. They live in the same neighborhood where I grew up. Nick and I went to school together.”
“You went to school with my husband? I sat in that office and you didn’t even think to tell me that?” Astounding.
He shrugged. “I went to school with him but he kept pretty much to himself.” His eyes turned to me quickly. “You don’t understand but you will when we get there. Their house is big, isolated and gated. And the family didn’t mingle much.”
“Do you know why?”
He was silent, deep in thought. “It was her family’s house, not the father’s. Old money. She grew up there. I don’t know much more than that except that anytime her name comes up, people lower their voices and whisper. Gossip, old stories. She’s like a local female Howard Hughes. Hermit. Has money. Odd.”
“What is her first name?” I asked.
“Cora. Cora Whitfield.”
I glanced out the window and saw that we had left the city behind. We were on an expressway and then on a series of streets that seemed to be going uphill. The final turn landed us on a wide street that was cobbled and dotted on either side with old fashioned street lights. The stores were made of stone, very quaint and expensive looking.
“A trolley?” I pointed to the cables over head. “This village has a trolley?”
“Yeah. The 23 trolley used to run down Germantown Avenue. Not anymore. But it’s much quicker to take the SEPTA train to Philly.” He pointed to the station on his left. We turned left a few blocks later. I glanced up at the street sign. Chestnut Hill Avenue. The houses on this street were bigger, all made of stone. Some sat closer to the road, some were set a bit back. We stopped at a small intersection. Dylan glanced over at me. “Ready? It’s not too far up here.”
He pulled over a few seconds later and stopped. “It’s back there. Through the trees,” he said, motioning to my right.
I cupped my hand to the window and peered into the darkness. All I could see was a fence, stone and wrought iron. Beyond that, just trees. I sat frozen for a moment. Now that I had found the house, I wasn’t sure what to do. My eyes were fixed on that fence line. Stone, set back from the road. In the middle of woods. It has a big fence. You have to go there. Nick just didn’t tell me what I was supposed to do once I got here. Other than find James.
I got out of the car slowly and walked to the gate. The entrance was locked preventing anyone from entering. Dylan followed behind me. The word “Monroe” was carved into large stone posts on either side of the gate.
I turned slightly. “I’m not ready to ring the bell but I want to see the house. Is there another way in?”
“No. The fence surrounds the whole property and the house is pretty well surrounded by trees. If you walk down to Crefield and over you can cut through to the back of the property but still, it’s fenced.”
“Give me a boost, then. I think I can make it over the top,” I got out of the car and studied the fence up close. I’d never done anything like this in my life but I wasn’t leaving without getting a better look.
“Mackenzie, I never agreed to this. This is crazy.” He was peering at me; his hands were in his pockets. Excitement crept into his face; his lips curved slightly upwards. I amused him. “And how do you think you are going to get back over?”
I shrugged. I hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. Come on.” I was pleading. I took hold of the iron bars and tried to hoist myself up.
“I’ll give you a boost but I’m not coming with you. If you don’t come back in ten minutes I’m going home. Find your own way out of here.”
“Agreed,” I said, “ten minutes.” The fence had spikes at the top and I hadn’t anticipated their sharpness. Getting to the top with Dylan’s help wasn’t the problem. Getting back down the other side was. I had worn the most inappropriate sandals in my closet for this venture. They were light, strappy and flimsy with a small heel. Perfect with my khaki pants, but not particularly good for climbing and definitely not running. I finally managed to grasp on long enough to drop myself to the ground. “See you in ten minutes. Don’t leave me.” I sprinted through the trees towards the house.
When I came to it, I stopped short and sucked in my breath. It was too big to gain any sense of proportion from my vantage-point, but what I saw gave me goose bumps. The stone structure was at least three stories high, and seemed to go on forever. Ivy grew, attaching in every crevice, transforming the mansion into a secret garden. There were no lights in any of the windows, no signs of life anywhere. I wanted to dart across the front lawn to get a better look but was afraid to be seen. Instead, I headed around to the back and in doing so, I moved myself away from any light that came from the road.
The house jutted out at irregular angles, casting shadows in what little light the moon provided. I stood in that spot, transfixed, and suddenly knew that I had violated something sacred by coming here. It was so quiet and serene but it wasn’t serenity that I was feeling. It was fear.
Fear seemed to fill the woods and the grounds around me. It hung in the air like a thick mist, it clung to the stone, and it dangled from the trees. It was everywhere. Anxiety, depression, helplessness and pure pulsing rage were there too, hidden behind every bush, ground into the soil. It was like I was channeling the negative feelings of everyone who had ever walked this space, and honestly, that scared me. Whatever this was, it was odd and disturbing. This house where my husband had spent the better part of his life left a damp chill in my heart. I wanted to get out of here, as quickly as I had come, but only had a general idea of the direction of the front gate.
The trees were thick and I had no markings to lead me. I thought I was going in the right direction, towards a flicker of light, but the light seemed to move and instead I veered further into the woods. My heart began to dance against my ribcage. There was a loud thump in the distance. Like a door shutting. Someone else was out here. And maybe that light I’d been following had been a flashlight and not a street lamp.
My legs, pumping in unison, moved me quickly through the brush, but my sandals slowed me down. I was just thinking that I had reached the height of my stupidity when I tripped. A big rock threw my heel off balance and I ended up face down in rocky dirt, the wind sucked out of me. My knee and hand stung; my lungs felt as if they’d collapsed in my chest. I lay there, feeling damp soil against my face, breathing slowly.
Right at that moment all my angst and curiosity turned to anger. I hated him. I hated him for dying in the accident and leaving me. Hated him for lying to me about all of this. Hated him for using me, I hated him for drawing me here, I hated him…
The crackling of dead leaves somewhere nearby spurred me back to my feet. My injured knee slowed my progress and I was beginning to think I was moving parallel to the road instead of towards it, when I saw the steady stream of light from the street lamp through the trees.
Dylan’s car was on the other side of the gate, but he was nowhere to be seen. Like a caged animal moving back and forth along the fence-line looking for a break, I tried to find someway out, but there was nothing. The tiny stones embedded in the palm of my right hand made it impossible for me to grab the iron bars for long. I fell backwards onto the ground ready to cry in frustration, when a heavy hand landed on my shoulder.
“Need a boost?”
I looked up. “Dylan? Thank God.” I clutched my chest.
“I felt bad about making you go in all by yourself. I’ve been looking for you. What happened to your hand and eye?”
I touched my cheek and realized it was bleeding too. “I fell in the woods and my hand hurts like hell. I don’t know how I’m going to get back over the fence.”
He turned and looked over his shoulder. “I heard something like the front door slamming awhile ago. I think someone is out here. You’re going to have to do the best you can. So get up.” He pulled at my arm.
When Dylan pushed me upwards, my blood smeared against the wrought-iron, but I held on long enough to drop myself to the ground on the other side. My injured knee slammed into the ground making me moan with pain.
He was at my side before I knew it, looking down at me with disdain. “I could have been disbarred for breaking the law. I’m an officer of the court, you know. I never would have come with you if I’d known…”
The words were lost on me. As we were sitting in his car pulling away, I glanced backwards over my shoulder. Shadows danced with the trees, and maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn I saw a dark figure slip into the woods on the other side of the gate. Blood trickled down my cheek.