The Visitor (Graveyard Queen, #4)(53)
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re right. He could come back.” He glanced over his shoulder at the trail. I could sense a sudden wariness in him, but I didn’t think he was worried about Papa.
“What is it?”
He searched the path for another long moment before turning back to me. “Nothing. Just making sure we’re alone.”
“We are. Except for the owls and the bats.” We stood very close, but I sensed a subtle distance between us now.
“Are you ready to tell me what happened tonight?” he asked.
“With Papa, you mean?”
“What did he tell you about Rose?”
“She was Papa’s mother. My great-grandmother.”
“That’s not a surprise,” Devlin said. I saw his gaze dart back to the path. “Even apart from your shared name, the resemblance is too uncanny to be a coincidence. Did he say why he’d never mentioned her?”
“Papa doesn’t like to talk about his past,” I answered truthfully if not altogether candidly. “He keeps a lot of things hidden.”
That simple observation seemed to give Devlin pause. His gaze brushed me for a split second before he glanced back up at the owl. “He isn’t alone in that regard. I sometimes think we Southerners have a predilection for secrets.”
“Yes. I sometimes think the same,” I said as I watched him closely.
It was a strange moment. A subtle acknowledgment of the barrier that would always be between us. I fretted endlessly about all the things that I kept from Devlin, but he was just as secretive. There were parts of his past I would never be privy to, like his time at the Institute and his membership in the Order of the Coffin and the Claw. The medallion he wore around his neck had been the emblem of secrets and dark deeds since the founding of Charleston.
“Why did you go to Columbia?” I asked. “Were you working a case?”
“No. The trip was personal.”
“Is your grandfather okay?”
“The trip wasn’t about him, either. And yes, he’s okay. There’s been no physical change. I’m meeting with his doctors tomorrow for a psych evaluation.”
“I know the two of you aren’t close, but this must still be so difficult for you.”
Devlin shrugged. “Dealing with my grandfather has never been easy. Old age hasn’t tempered his disposition or his demands.”
“Or his expectations, I imagine.”
He shrugged again. “I’m not here to talk about my grandfather. If you want to know the truth, I stopped by here to make sure you hadn’t taken off for Kroll Cemetery without telling me.”
“Why didn’t you just call me?”
“I can be more persuasive in person.”
I could certainly attest to that. “If you mean to try to talk me out of going, you’re a little late. I’ve already made arrangements to meet with Louvenia Durant tomorrow to go over the details of the restoration.”
“Then, I’d better tell you what I found out today,” he said grimly. “I drove to Columbia to meet with Nathan Fortner.”
“Nathan Fortner.” I searched my memory until the name finally clicked. “He’s the friend you mentioned before. The boy you used to explore the ruins with.”
“He’s an attorney in Columbia these days, but he also maintains a small office in Isola. The last time we spoke he mentioned that his firm had done some work for the Kroll family.”
“What kind of work?”
“Something to do with the estate. Evidently, there’s been contention among the various branches of the family for decades. After Ezra’s death, a will was never found, so the money was eventually divided among the surviving relatives. Somehow the eldest sister ended up with all the land, which was a sizable fortune even apart from her portion of the cash and investments. According to Nathan, a rumor later surfaced that the sister had destroyed Ezra’s will because she’d been disinherited. That sister was Louvenia Durant.”
“They did have a falling-out,” I said. “Nelda Toombs told me that Louvenia had never gotten over the estrangement. That’s why she’s so emotional about the restoration. And speaking of Nelda, I found out today that she’s the owner of Dowling Curiosities. Owen Dowling is her great-nephew.”
“How did you find that out?”
“Owen called and asked if I would come by the shop so that his aunt could see the stereoscope. Nelda was there when I arrived.”
Devlin scowled. “How did he explain withholding the information from you?”
“He claims he didn’t recognize the inscription because the nicknames haven’t been used in years.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I’m not sure. He’s hard to read. But Nelda did back him up.”
Devlin rubbed the back of his neck as if the fatigue of a long day was finally setting in. “Do you know anything about Louvenia Durant’s grandson?”
“I’ve seen him around. His name is Micah Durant and apparently he isn’t very happy about the restoration. He thinks his grandmother is squandering her money.”
“Maybe there’s another reason for his disapproval,” Devlin said. “It’s something Nathan hinted at. He could only speak hypothetically, of course, but it got me to thinking. If Louvenia or any of the Kroll relatives wanted to put that land on the market, the expense of moving the cemetery could diminish the value. It would be easier just to get rid of the headstones and pretend the cemetery never existed.”