The Visitor(55)
“I’ve seen only one, in Nunhead Cemetery in London.” I’d gone the year after my aunt had treated me to a visit to Père Lachaise in Paris. Nunhead was a much darker place, more Gothic and lush. I could still remember the scent of the lime trees as I’d wandered along the overgrown walkways, ignoring the ghosts.
“There are so many things I want to show you in Kroll Cemetery,” Dr. Shaw said in a strangely subdued voice. “It’s such a beautiful place, but rather forlorn, I’m afraid. I find myself lingering over each of the headstones, trying to imagine those last moments in Kroll Colony. Wondering if the colonists knew when they awakened in the morning that it would be their last day on earth. Or were they betrayed? Blindsided by someone they trusted? Left to die horrifically, their legacy tarnished for all eternity.”
“It’s a mystery that desperately needs a resolution,” I said.
“Indeed it does,” he agreed. “And I’m more certain than ever that you’re the one who can finally unravel this graveyard’s secrets.”
*
A half hour later, I left the town of Isola behind as I headed out to Louvenia Durant’s horse farm. With Dr. Shaw’s map still resting on the seat beside me, I felt confident I could find her place without too much trouble. As I crossed over the city limits, traffic thinned and the four-lane thoroughfare gave way to a narrow country blacktop lined with pine trees. Other than an occasional farm vehicle, I had the road to myself.
Five miles out of town, I slowed to look for the turn, afraid that I might miss it because of the thick woods. I needn’t have worried. The entrance to the Durant property was prominently marked with an impressive archway and two metal horses mounted on brick columns built on either side of the paved lane.
As I drove through, I cast a wary glance around me. Suddenly, I felt a very long way from civilization. A world away from my beloved Charleston. I was on my way to meet Louvenia Durant, a woman I barely knew, in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps not the smartest thing I’d ever done, but despite my distrust of the Krolls, I couldn’t imagine that anyone in the family meant me harm. Too many people knew of my whereabouts. A mishap on their turf would be hard to explain. At least that was how I reasoned away my unease.
The narrow road wound through mile after mile of solid evergreens. With my window down, I could smell pine and cedar mingling with the darker scent of the hawthorn. I had the sense that I was traveling through the black forest of a childhood fairy tale and was glad when the trees cleared and I could see patches of sunlight ahead.
As I topped a ridge, the woods gave way to rolling pastures dotted with wildflowers. Behind well-tended fences, magnificent horses grazed peacefully in the afternoon heat, the only interruption to their rural paradise the distant crack of a rifle.
Rounding a curve, I finally caught sight of the house, a sprawling three-story plantation home with a small army of chimneys rising from the rooftop. The spread was beautiful in the somnolent light. Even the outbuildings and stables had the well-cared-for look of a place where money had never been a concern.
A uniformed maid answered the door, her dark eyes at once appraising and dismissive. “Whatever you’re peddling, we already got a dozen more’n we need.”
Her bluntness took me aback. “I’m not selling anything. I have an appointment with Mrs. Durant. My name is Amelia Gray.”
The shrewd gaze narrowed as she rested a hand on her scrawny hip. “That cemetery gal from Charleston she told me about? Didn’t nobody call you this morning?”
“No, I haven’t heard from anyone all day.”
“Well, don’t that beat all.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “I swan, I don’t know why Miss Vinnie keep that gal on, not worth a plug nickel, you ask me, never do a thing a body tell her to do.” The woman heaved a weary sigh as she gave me another doubtful scrutiny. “I reckon you better come inside, but mind them feet. Don’t go tracking dirt in here on my rugs.”
“It seems I’ve come at a bad time,” I murmured. “Maybe I should just wait outside.”
“Come in,” she barked. “Before you let the flies in.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Quickly, I wiped my shoes on the mat before stepping into a large foyer with aged pine flooring and thick plaster walls. A ceiling fan stirred currents of chilled air and I had to suppress a shiver.
“Wait right here while I go fetch Miss Vinnie.” I had a feeling the woman wanted to caution me not to touch anything but managed to curtail the impulse by tightly pursing her lips before she turned and disappeared down a long, spacious hallway.
Left alone, I gazed around curiously, craning my neck to see into the well-appointed parlor on one side of the stairs and the dining room on the other. I would have expected to find family portraits lining the magnificent walls, but the artwork was mostly equine in nature. Through a row of French doors, I spied a peacock strutting across the lawn, and beyond the garden, a horse and rider jumped hedges at the edge of a pasture.
I watched for a moment, mesmerized even from this distance by the grace and symmetry of both animal and human before turning back to my immediate surroundings. I couldn’t help wondering if Ezra Kroll had once lived in this house and if he had ever regretted leaving behind such a comfortable life for the meager existence of the commune.
“Miss Gray?”
I whirled at the sound of my name.