All Things Lost (17 page)

Then I noticed an ornate gilt picture frame sticking up above the mattress on the far side of the bed. I pulled and tugged on an old dresser that was missing handles on the top two drawers and slid past it. I had to crawl across the bed to reach the frame and a moldy, unpleasant odor rose up with a cloud of dust. I pulled the frame out and retreated in a fit of coughing and sneezing. It was surprisingly heavy. I realized why when my eyes stopped streaming and I finally got a good look at my find. It held a portrait of a young woman.

     It was dark with age, but beneath the grime was a beautiful oil painting. The woman on the canvas had dark hair which had been pulled back and hung in curls at the nape of her neck. She wore a scoop necked dark blue dress with white lace collar and a beautiful and intricate gold pin on her bosom. She had been posed carefully in front of a beautiful fireplace that I thought might one of the ones in the ballroom downstairs, her hand rested lightly on the mantle. The woman herself looked barely more than a girl, her eyes large and framed by dark lashes. She wore a somber expression but there was a sparkle of humor about her eyes, as if at any second her lips would twitch up into a smile. She looked like someone it would have been nice to have known. I thought the artist must have caught her very accurately. I wondered who she was, if she could be the mysterious
Amalie
or some other former resident of the big house.

     While I was examining the painting, I heard what I thought sounded like soft footsteps from behind me. I set the portrait down and turned around expecting to find Steve or Reid, but no one was there. I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise and a strange chill crept down my spine.

     “Hello?” I called, or tried to call; it came out in a hoarse croak. I cleared my throat and tried again, “Is someone there?” There was, of course, no answer, just an eerie echo of silence. I wanted to leave the room and go find Steve but I was afraid to step out into the hallway, afraid of what I might find. Hearing noises that may or may not be footsteps was bad enough; I didn't want to come face to face with a ghost.

     “I see dead people,” I whispered, quoting one of my favorite movies, and then I had to giggle. I was being silly. I would be turning 18 in one week and here I was acting like a little kid scared of the boogieman. I took a deep breath and stepped into the hall. I exhaled in whoosh of relief when I saw it was empty.

     I hadn't taken two steps before I heard another strange noise. I froze in mid-step to listen. If I had been a dog my ears would have perked, I was concentrating so hard. Somewhere in the distance I heard what sounded like the faint cries of a distressed infant. The crying continued for what must have been a full minute before my fear released me enough to move. I took the stairs two at a time on my way down and bowled into Steve at the bottom.

     “Whoa, slow down! Where's the fire?” Then he grew serious, “There isn't a fire is there?”

     “Did you hear that?” I gasped.

     “Hear what?”

     “That sound, did you hear it?”

     Reid walked into the foyer from the ballroom. “Only thing I heard was the sound of a herd of water buffalo stampeding down the stairs,” he said with a grin.

     Steve's face had taken on an intense expression, “What did you hear, Killian? What did it sound like?”

     “It sounded like a baby crying somewhere.”

     
“In the house?”

     “I couldn't tell.”

     “It was probably just a cat,” Reid offered, “Or a mockingbird; those things can make some strange noises.”

     I tried to make myself accept his explanation. It was infinitely more acceptable than what I had been thinking, but somehow I couldn't convince myself that what I had heard had such a simple rationalization.

     “You didn't hear it?” I asked again, just to be sure. Maybe the creepy old house was getting to me, playing tricks on me.

     Steve shrugged. “I didn't hear anything,” he said. He looked somewhat disappointed.

     “I didn't hear anything either,” Reid repeated.

     I nodded my head and looked over my shoulder back up the stairs. Just my imagination, I decided. I would accept the easiest explanation for now, but I didn't think I would be wondering around the halls by myself anytime soon.

Chapter 10

     All thoughts of haunted houses and murder cases took a back seat the following day - it was Independence Day! Adam and Steve had planned a cookout at our house and then we were supposed to head down to the inlet beach for fireworks at dusk. Our guests started arriving a little after
noon
. We weren't having a big crowd, just
Ilana
and
Lysander
with their little girl Melody and Bryant and Calvin had said they might stop by.

     
Lysander
and
Ilana
were old friends of the family.
Ilana
was Adam's lawyer when he fought for custody of Kane. She was a tall, elegant woman with bronze skin, golden brown eyes and straight glossy brown hair that she wore cut just below her shoulders. She must get it cut once a week because I had never seen it an inch longer or an inch shorter.
Lysander
was a very handsome and distinguished looking black man. His hair was close cropped and he wore a pencil mustache. His hair had just begun to gray at the temples. They had different last names,
Ilana's
was
Constantino
and
Lysander's
Watts
, I assume for professional reasons. Their daughter, Melody, was just a little over a year old. She had a halo of dark curls and sparkling brown eyes and was, in short, absolutely beautiful.

     We set up a net on the beach and played volleyball while Melody happily built sandcastles in the sand. When we tired of that, Steve started the barbecue grill and Adam mixed the adults drinks. We had just settled down when Bryant and Calvin arrived. They were a young couple, both in their mid-twenties, who had been together for several years now. They hadn't been together too long before Calvin got sick. It was almost a year later before he was diagnosed with HIV. The last time I had seen him he had looked like he was slowly fading away, his already pale complexion had become pasty, his white-blonde hair thin, even his eyes had looked dull. It had been especially striking in contrast with Bryant's dark good looks and healthy glow. Having been over six months since I had seen him last I was expecting the worst. To my surprise, he looked the best I had ever seen him. He'd gained some weight so he was no longer waif-thin and his cheeks had a rosy glow. And if he looked happy, Bryant was positively beaming.

     “Wow, you look great!” I blurted out as they followed Adam onto the back patio.

     Calvin grinned, “Thanks, Killian. You don't look so bad yourself.”

     I laughed and blushed. “I just meant…”

     “I knew what you meant, and thanks. The last time you saw me I looked like death warmed over, right?”

     “Well, I don't know if I would have put it that way... So I guess you're doing well?”

     “Yeah, you could say that,” he settled into the chair next to me as Bryant went over and started talking to
Ilana
and
Lysander
. “My biggest problem wasn't the HIV; it was my state-of-mind. I took it as an immediate death sentence, as if my life were over the moment they said those magic words. I went to some counseling with Bryant and I realized that I have a lot of life left to live. It's not over yet and I'm going to fight it till the end, whenever that is. I'm on a real aggressive treatment program, diet and the famous cocktail. So far it's working well for me.”

     “Bryant, Calvin, can I get you guys a drink?” Adam asked.

     “I'll take a beer if you've got one,” Bryant said.

     “I'll have what Killian's having,” Calvin said, pointing to my soda, “I'm staying away from alcohol.”

     “Coming right up,” Adam called as he disappeared back into the house.

     “So what have you been up to since Thanksgiving? Didn't you graduate this year?”

     
“Yeah, last month.”

     “What are you doing now, just
chillin
' or do you have a job?”

     “I'm working for a private investigator; full time for now, part time when I start college this fall.”

     “Whoa, that's off the wall, dude.
A private investigator?”

     “It's not like you see on TV,” I said. I was glad to be on the other end of that disclaimer for a change.

     “Still, that's got to be better than working at McDonald's. That's what I did between high school and college.”

     I shrugged, “So far I'm pretty much just the secretary.”

     “And let's keep it that way, shall we?” Adam said jokingly as he handed Calvin his soda. I hadn't even seen him coming. It was a good thing I had decided not to mention the case I was unofficially looking into with Novak's help.

     By the time we finished eating - steaks, corn on the cob and baked potatoes, all cooked on the grill - it was time to head down to the inlet for the fireworks. We decided to walk there to avoid the horrendous traffic. Even so, the sun was still hovering low in the sky when we arrived. We weren't the first by far, the fireworks wouldn't begin until after dark, but it was already packed beyond belief. You could barely move on the boardwalk. We pushed and shoved our way through, leaving a wake of apologies and dirty
looks
, until we reached the sand. We managed to find a patch of beach to claim for our own and spread blankets to sit on.

     The fireworks would be shot off from the beach, so it didn't much matter where you sat, the seats would be great. A local orchestra was playing classical music off to one side. I knew from experience that they would burst into Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture when the fireworks began.

     “Killian,” a voice called from behind me. I turned and searched the sea of faces until I spotted a pair of arms waving above the crowd. It was Laura and
Gabe
. It didn't take long to realize that they were there with the entire
Davis
clan. They were all present and seated on blankets: Alex and Deb, Asher's parents,
Bethany
, Marcus, Jamie, Judy, Jake, even Will, and of course, Asher.

     Laura was waving us over and it would have been awkward to say the least to refuse. So we picked up our blankets, trouped over, and spread them back out next to theirs. While introductions were being made for those who didn't know each other and old acquaintances caught up, I tried to unobtrusively situate myself as far away from Asher as I could. It wasn't so much that I was trying to avoid him-or maybe I was. Things had become so complicated between us that it seemed easier to just stay away from him, at least for tonight.

     I was sitting lost in my thoughts when Will plopped down next to me in a shower of sand.

     “I hate the beach,” he grumbled.

     “How can you hate the beach?” I asked in amazement.

     “It's not the beach so much as the sand. It just gets in places I didn't even know I had and God knows sand isn't meant to be there. I feel like I'm in a giant litter box. They should just pave over all the sand with concrete.”

     “Then it wouldn't be the beach, it'd be a giant swimming pool.”

     “Yeah, well, like I said: I hate the beach. So, why are you avoiding Asher? I thought you two were going to try being friends.”

     “What? I…I'm not…”

     He laughed, “Never mind. It's none of my business.”

     “Where's Darin?” I asked, relieved to receive permission to change the subject.

     “He's home with Mom. I felt awful about leaving him but Mom insisted. It's the first time I've gone out since he came home. Not to mention the first time I've really left him like this.”

     “He'll be fine. You're mom raised you, right? She knows what she's doing.”

     “It's not that. It's just leaving him. I can't get him off my mind.”

     “You need something or
someone
to distract you. I'm surprised
Bryan
isn't here with you.”

     He shot me a funny look. “He called yesterday and invited me to go somewhere with him to watch the fireworks. I told him no since I didn't think I'd be able to go then.”