The math just didn’t add up, not by a long shot. I was my parents’ eldest child, and I was born years after their wedding day. There was no way I was David Coleville’s child.
Still, my father’s last words to me were knocking at my brain as I quickly ticked off the months between my parents’ marriage and my birth. If I hadn’t been his child, it certainly would’ve explained why he was so utterly despondent that Jimmy and Jake had perished that day in the lake instead of me.
I didn’t want to say any of this out loud, didn’t want to let on to Amity what I had been thinking. But I knew Matthew had been thinking the same thing, and I wanted him to know it wasn’t the case. I held his gaze and shook my head slightly, silently saying “No” in my own head, and by the way his features relaxed, I knew that he got the message.
As it was, we were left with a snarl of questions and no definitive answers. I knew only one thing for sure. All of it, every last thread, was running through one terrible night here at Alban House more than fifty years ago.
I took the last sip of my tea and placed my cup back on its saucer, wishing I could somehow time-travel back to a summer solstice party in 1956 to see for myself what really happened there.
“Miss?” Jane’s voice broke my concentration. “The police have arrived and Mr. Jameson has taken them up to the master suite. I’ve told them what I know, and they’ll be wanting to talk with the three of you next.”
Matthew, Amity, and I stood up, and I saw him stretch his arms above his head and yawn. I wasn’t the only one who was tired.
“Every time you’re here, the police come.” I smiled at him. “Coincidence? I’m not so sure.”
He chuckled and raised his eyebrows. “The sinister minister. It has a nice ring to it.”
“You’re not going to want to visit me anymore,” I went on. “It gets a little tedious, crime after crime after crime.”
“Ah, the monotony of constant danger and intrigue. You really should try to liven things up around here.”
Despite our attempt to lighten the mood, a shroud of exhaustion was wrapping itself around me and pulling in tight. I had dealt with enough today—the last thing I wanted to do was to talk to the police yet again. What I wouldn’t give for a long, hot bath and a good book. But if we were ever going to get to the bottom of who was lurking within the walls of this house, I knew it had to be done.
We briefed the police on the latest developments, and as they began another sweep of the passageways and the grounds, I walked Reverend Parker out.
“Thank you for today,” I said as we neared the big double doors in the front of the house. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, truly.”
He smiled and shook his head. “It’s what we clergy do. I know it’s not easy for you, Grace, especially not now with all of this going on.” He gestured toward the window, where we both could see three squad cars parked in the driveway.
He grasped the doorknob but then hesitated a moment. “This is where you grew up, but you haven’t been back here in a couple of decades,” he said, his eyes reaching for mine. “I’m not sure how many people you know in town anymore. I guess what I’m trying to say is, anytime you’d like somebody to talk to, or even just take a walk with, please know you can call me.”
I leaned against the doorframe and managed a smile. “Thanks. Maybe I will.”
“I hope so,” he said, and walked out into the night, closing the door behind him.
As I turned to climb the stairs, despite how tired I was, I found myself wishing he had stayed awhile.