The Guests on South Battery (Tradd Street #5)(41)

Jack sat back, a look of disappointment on his face. “Well, there goes one story idea. I was hoping to go treasure-hunting—with Jayne’s permission, of course—in the bowels of the house. But it appears they don’t exist anymore.”

Yvonne slid the folder closer to him. “When one door closes, another one opens. Take this home—you never know what else you might find.”

Glad to have the mind-numbing talk about the house over with, I turned to Yvonne. “I know we can dig up more information on the Pinckneys in the archives, but I was wondering what you knew about them, being family. My mother was a school friend of Button’s, but they lost touch after she left Charleston in the early eighties and she just knows vague details. We’re really trying to figure out why Jayne Smith, who never met Button, has inherited her entire estate. There has to be a reason other than Miss Pinckney was a philanthropist who liked helping animals and orphans.”

Yvonne’s eyes sparkled behind her glasses. “Because, as our Jack has told us time and again, there is no such thing as coincidence.”

I smiled in agreement, but I wasn’t sure if I liked her use of the word “our.” Last time I’d checked, our marriage certificate listed only his name and mine. I gave myself a mental shake and wondered when I’d stop being so insecure about Jack. He’d picked me, hadn’t he? Not that he’d really had a choice, seeing as I’d been expecting his babies. But he loved me. He told me that a dozen times a day. And not only was Yvonne old enough to be his grandmother, but I really liked her and I shouldn’t be having thoughts about asking for a meeting in the ladies’ room for a private chat about my man. I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, realizing those were the lyrics to a song I was too old to know about, much less remember.

“You okay, Mellie?” Jack rubbed his hand on my back as every nerve ending in my body responded with a snap to attention.

“Yes, just tired.” I gave Yvonne my biggest smile to show her I was truly sorry for my thoughts, making her regard me warily. “I was just hoping you could give us a little insider information about them. Maybe point Jack in a research direction we hadn’t considered.”

“I can certainly try,” she said. “Although when Rosalind died, I’m afraid I lost touch with her children. I just knew that Sumter had moved to New York, leaving his ex-wife in the house with poor Button.”

“Why poor Button?” I asked.

Yvonne was thoughtful. “I suppose because as the only girl, she was the one always left behind to be the caretaker. Rosalind, sadly, had an extended period of bad health and Button stayed at home to take care of her despite having aspirations of going to college. She wanted to be a veterinarian—she was always taking in strays, then enjoyed nursing them back to health. When Rosalind finally died, it was too late for Button to go back to school or meet a husband. All the men in her group were already married with families. And besides, she had Anna and Hasell to take care of. Sumter was traveling so much at the time for his work that it was really up to Button to make sure Anna and Hasell had what they needed.”

“Anna?” Jack asked.

“Sumter’s ex-wife. Poor thing. She doted on sweet Hasell, took such good care of her through her many illnesses. None of the doctors and specialists she saw was ever able to tell her what was making her little girl so sick, but Anna kept up a brave face and told anybody who would listen that whatever it was, she’d find a cure and make her better.” Yvonne was silent for a moment, gathering her composure. “Sadly, that never happened. Sweet Hasell died when she was only eleven years old. She was such a lovely child, too. Funny, smart. And so kind. She loved all the homeless animals Button brought into the house. She even worried that her mother was wearing herself out taking care of her.” Her eyes clouded for a moment. “That child wasn’t even cold before Sumter divorced Anna and moved to New York. It’s no wonder Anna couldn’t cope with life on her own. So Button took care of her until Anna died in 1993.”

Jack’s eyes were dark with thought. “I’m assuming Anna must have been around my mother’s age, but she was only about thirty-one when she died. Do you remember what happened?”

She looked stricken for a moment, and I had to remember that not only was she a true Charlestonian, which meant she’d been born with a natural reserve, but she was also from a time before the Kardashians and social media, which made nothing private. She delicately cleared her throat. “I’m not really sure. The immediate family closed ranks and there was never any discussion in public. The obituary only read that she’d died at home.”

A small shiver swept its way down my spine, like a cold finger slowly tracing its way down each notch of bone. “At home? As in the house on South Battery?”

Yvonne nodded, and I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering the presence of more than one spirit, one tugging on me to stay and the other telling me to go away. And then . . . nothing. Just the knowledge that someone, some thing was there that I wasn’t being allowed to see.

Jack sat up, his elbows on the table. “Did you go to the funeral?”

“No. I didn’t even know when it was. It was over before I even knew that she’d died.”

She paused, as if considering whether to tell us more.

Jack leaned forward and took her hands in his. “I’m sorry if we’ve brought up a sad memory.”