The Line That Binds Series Box Set (75 page)

I felt Ben’s hand squeeze mine, realizing then that everyone’s eyes had found their way to me. I bit my lip to hold the tears in then pressed my face into Ben’s shoulder when the first tear evaded my efforts. His arms instantly sheltered me, pulling me closer to his stable body as mine began to shake. The truth had never hurt so much. I knew what I had done. I knew I had willingly walked farther along that plank. But now that my toes curled over the edge, the vastness of the water below scared the shit out of me.
How can I survive this?

“Zone out?” Dad asked.

Ben’s hands rubbed my back and caressed my hair, trying to soothe me. I took in a long breath, letting the smell of him fill me. His skin still smelled of mint, but I missed the hint of cut grass that blended with him so well. I remembered that much. With a few more breaths, my body trembles slowed.

“What do you mean by that?” Dad asked again since Lloyd was probably reluctant to speak after my reaction.

Another moment passed then Lloyd cleared his throat. “Well, she forgot a lot of things, but she also had these times where she was just not here. It usually happened while she painted. That was her hobby. It turned into more of an obsession when her focus became the well. She numbered them, possibly as a way to count the wishes she’d granted. I’m sure it eventually turned into a way to keep track of the times she zoned out, though I doubt it was accurate count,” Lloyd said.

“She zoned out while she painted?” Dad asked. “LJ has done that while cleaning.”

The pain in his words was heartbreaking. I didn’t have the courage to turn and see it in his eyes. I also couldn’t face the amount of pity building inside the room. Instead, I pushed myself closer to Ben and placed my ear to his chest, listening to his heart’s calming rhythm.

“Should we get to it then?” Ben’s voice boomed through his chest, resounding and comforting. “I think we’ve been through the basement enough. The office probably needs a more thorough check, and the other rooms downstairs too.”

“Sounds like a good place to start,” Lloyd agreed.

“Yeah, okay,” Dad agreed somberly. “Do you mind if I speak with LJ for a minute, alone?”

Ben’s hands stopped moving and I nodded into his chest. “Okay. I’ll be in the office.” He bent over and kissed my forehead.

I watched them walk out before turning to Dad. He was motionless for a moment, silently staring. Then he took quick, long strides across the room and wrapped me in his arms.

“LJ, I’m so sorry. You should’ve told me earlier, honey. Never mind, never mind. None of that matters. I believe it all. If it meant a chance at helping you, I’d believe anything.” His arms constricted, crushing me to him like he never wanted to let go.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I said, the intensity of his hug taking me back so many years.

His arms loosened and he turned his head to Gavin, who was still sitting on the bed. “You too, Gavin. I love you, bud. There’s nothing I won’t do for either of you.”

Nothing he won’t do.
When he released me fully, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my letter. “I’ve written a few things down… in case things don’t—”

“Don’t,” he said sternly, shaking his head and grabbing the paper. He shoved it into his own pocket and hugged me again. “Let’s focus on now, all right?”

I nodded against him.

“Now, let’s go tear this place apart.”

We were four hours into the search. The five of us had been through hundreds of books and ledgers; explored the walls, bookcases, and furniture for any hidden compartments; and even looked inside the frames of the few old pictures that sat on Janine’s desk.
Nothing.

Nothing.
I flipped through more pages.

Nothing.

Nothing!

“Dammit!” I chucked the leather-bound ledger halfway across the room at the large study table, stacked with more dead ends. It bounced open and spat some of its pages onto the office’s hardwood floor.

“Ben,” Pop said, glancing up from behind Janine’s desk. “You haven’t slept. Maybe you should take a break.”

Carson and Gavin had gone to get drinks a few minutes ago and LJ had excused herself to use the bathroom, leaving Pop and I alone in the office. During that little stretch of time, I felt myself slipping. My emotions were clawing their way to the surface. I’d been holding everything in for LJ. I needed to be strong for her. And that was proving more difficult with every unanswered question, every new dead end.

“I can’t,” I replied, shaking my head.

“She won’t think any less of you, son. No one will.”

“
I
will,” I admitted. I’d already wasted too much time drinking my self-pity as LJ lost pieces of herself. I couldn’t stop for a break now. I’d never forgive myself.

He nodded his head once, knowing he’d never change my mind.

Just as I moved to pick up the ledger I’d thrown, the doorbell rang. “Probably Simone,” I said, looking over at Pop.

Carson didn’t want to lie to Simone, but he didn’t want to explain things over the phone either. So, as planned, Simone was still coming for Thanksgiving dinner. I supposed it was a good thing Carson dumped the bird in the oven before he came up to LJ’s room this morning.

“He might need some help,” Pop said as he stood.

I agreed and followed him to the foyer, noticing LJ and Carson standing in front of the opened door.

“I should also apologize for my appearance,” a familiar voice came from behind the door. Not Simone’s. “This could be nothing at all, but I couldn’t let it wait in the event it turns out to be something of importance.”

“It’s no problem, Ms. Mitchell. Honestly,” Carson replied.

I lengthened my steps and walked up behind LJ, placing my hand on her back to let her know I was there. She tilted her head and smiled back at me.

“Ben… Lloyd. Hello,” Ms. Mitchell said after Pop appeared in the foyer behind us.

“Hello, Tricia. It’s nice to see you again,” Pop called.

“Hi, Ms. Mitchell,” I replied, staring at the curlers stacked high off her scalp. Her striped pajama bottoms were visible below her puffy knee-length jacket. She obviously hadn’t planned to leave her house today. But as soon as I spotted the manila envelope clutched underneath her now red fingernails, I knew why she had.

“It’s cold out there,” Carson said to her. “You should come in.”

“No, no,” she dismissed the idea with a curious smile directed at me. Maybe she was happy to see me here with LJ, though it looked to hold something else too. “I can’t stay. It wasn’t my intention to intrude on your holiday. I just wanted to give you this information.” She extended the envelope to Carson. “I found these in a different box from the first set. They must’ve gotten separated during one of our moves,” she said. “I’m in the phone book if you have any questions, but, honestly, it’s all a little puzzling to me too.”

“We’ll definitely let you know if we have any questions,” Carson said, indicating everyone with a brief glance at us.

Ms. Mitchell smiled wider. “Great. It was good to see you all. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Thanks, Ms. Mitchell. You too,” LJ replied as Ms. Mitchell walked down the slate steps. Flakes of white peppered the air, drifting lazily to the ground. “Snow,” LJ whispered.

As Carson backed away from the door, LJ pushed forward. I ran my hand up her back and moved her hair off her shoulder so I could plant a small kiss on her neck. She smiled as she watched the snow.

“LJ,” I whispered to her ear, hearing Carson and Pop talking as they moved to the kitchen. I needed to see what was in the envelope.

“I know,” she whispered back. “I just wanted to watch for a second.” She turned around and I reached for the door, closing it behind her as she pressed her body to me. “I didn’t want to say anything, but I can’t remember who Ms. Mitchell is,” she said against my chest. “I know I’ve seen her, I just can’t think from where.”

I kissed her hair calmly, screaming inside my mind while another piece of my heart shredded. After taking a full breath, I said, “It’s okay. She’s the school nurse. Whatever she gave your dad is important. C’mon, let’s go see.”

Carson and Pop had taken seats at the breakfast bar with the envelope’s contents already spilled in front of them. LJ sat beside Carson and I stood beside her, looking over her shoulder at the loose papers and a second, smaller manila envelope. Gavin was seated sideways at the far end of the bar with his cast propped on the back of his chair, watching us and digging into a bag of chips.

“It’s more on Dahlia,” Pop said. “There’s a picture of her in here.” He slid it over to LJ.

“It’s a copy of the picture we found in Janine’s trunk. What else you got?” I asked as Carson and Pop both picked up a few pages.

“Looks like another census. This one’s from eighteen eighty, after Dahlia’s death. Joseph Platt is here and below him is a woman named Nancy. Joseph Platt the second is still there, listed as eleven years old. And there’s a three-year-old girl named Ann.”

“So Joseph remarried,” LJ said, grabbing my hand and lacing our fingers.

I kissed the top of her head and caught a sideways glance from Carson. His eyes were relaxed and kind, a huge change from this morning. I was so thankful he listened, so glad he understood and chose to help.

“Here are two certificates of death,” Carson said, flipping between two pages. “One’s for a Joseph Platt the third, and the other is for Robert Platt. It looks like Robert was his son. He was born in nineteen thirteen, died in nineteen sixty-six.” Carson handed them to me while he picked up some others. “The rest of these look like corresponding birth certificates. Nothing really stands out.”

Pop opened the other manila envelope and removed the pages inside. His squinted at a page and his mouth went slack.

“Pop,” I said, squeezing LJ’s hand to reassure her. Whatever Pop was staring at shocked him. “What is it?”

“I can’t believe it,” Pop murmured.

Carson bent closer to the page Pop was holding. “It’s a copy of an obituary of Mary Goodwin.”

Goodwin.
Goodwin.
That sounded familiar.

Pop still hadn’t said anything so Carson continued. “Mary Goodwin, daughter of Robert and Francis Platt, died March seventh. She was an avid reader of romance novels and loved to bake. She’s survived by her daughter and son-in-law, Joan and David Dumas, and granddaughter, Heather Shadows.”

Mom?

I dropped LJ’s hand and lunged around Carson to snatch the page from Pop’s hand. “What the hell is this?” I snapped.

Pop raked through the other pages from the second manila envelope. “I don’t know.”

“Shadows? They’re your relatives?” Carson asked after he backed up next to LJ.

“Not Pop’s. My mother is Heather,” I said, staring at the names. “Her maiden name was Dumas. Joann and David Dumas were her parents. What the hell does this mean?”
Why is their information in here?

“Here are Robert and Francis Platt’s death certificates. Robert’s lists Joseph Platt the third as his father.”

“So if this is right, I’m…”

Pop glanced up at me with eyes as wide as my own. “I had no idea, Ben. Why would Genie do this?”

My body shook as I tried to concentrate on what it all meant.
I’m a descendant of Dahlia.
What the hell was Janine researching us for? How long had she known? Did she know before she invited me to live here? Did she know before she invited
Pop
to live here?

“You met Genie
after
she met Ms. Mitchell’s mom, Elise,” I stated. “You said you met her
after
.”

“Yes,” Pop confirmed, looking through the other papers. “We met at a diner in Lancaster, across the street from the unemployment office. Next thing I knew, she offered me a job. A few months later, she offered me the groundskeeper’s house.”

I clenched my jaw and paced the length of the room. “She knew about you before you met. She set it all up.”

“But why?” Carson piped in.

I growled as aggravation surged through me. Then I noticed LJ’s frightened eyes. I was making her nervous. I needed to calm down. Taking more deep breaths, I walked back to Pop.

“You’re right,” he said. “It was no coincidence. She has my info in here too.”

“You were her access to Dalia’s line. Did you meet her after I was born?” I asked.

“No. It was just after your mom and dad got married, not long before your birth.”

“This has taken a real turn,” Carson breathed out.

“There’s nothing else in here to explain why,” Pop said, scattering the other pages across the counter. The lines in his forehead scrunched together and his nostrils flared. “She lied to me,” he said. “She used my friendship as some kind of link to the curse. Was this all some kind of game for her?”

“Sounds more like desperation,” Carson said. “But she did position pieces like she was playing chess, as though she knew what needed to happen. She left you all parts of this property to bring you together.” The doorbell rang, cutting him off. “That’s probably Simone. You guys are okay with her knowing all of this, right?”