Colin waved back as he led Willa to the right, through an archway and into the dining room. Dozens of round tables filled the space, which was awash in light from the ceiling-high windows. There was a large wainscoted fireplace along one wall, flanked by period sitting chairs. “Paxton said she found a chef with five-star credentials. The Rebecca Restaurant will be open to the public, but apparently they’re booked into next year.”

“Why Rebecca?” she asked.

“That was the name of your great-great-grandfather’s wife. He built the Madam for her.”

“Oh,” she said, embarrassed that she didn’t know.

He led her out of the dining room and directly across the lobby to the opposite archway. “This was the original library,” Colin said. “Now it’s a sitting room. There will be afternoon tea served here for the guests.”

It, like most of the downstairs, was covered in dark paneling. There was a twin fireplace to the one in the restaurant, but flanking it were shelves full of old books. Ornately upholstered couches and chairs were scattered around.

The woman who’d been on the phone entered at that moment. “Sorry about that, Colin. It’s always something. I’m still trying to find a laundry service. Paxton threw me a curveball when she asked if the Madam might be ready for overnight guests the night of the gala.”

Colin made the introductions. “Willa, this is Maria, the manager. Paxton stole her away from the Grand Devereaux Inn in Charleston. She’s the best in the business. Maria, you’re looking at a direct Blue Ridge Madam descendant. This is Willa Jackson. Her ancestors built this place.”

“This is an honor,” Maria said. “Welcome, Willa.”

“Thank you,” Willa said. She was beginning to feel supremely uncomfortable, and heat was creeping up her neck. She didn’t belong here. Certainly, intellectually, she’d always known that. The house hadn’t been in her family for decades. That was why she’d stayed away. But she’d always harbored the hope, leftover from childhood, that somehow, magically, one day someone would realize that they’d got it all wrong and this was really all hers.

“Maria can back me up,” Colin said. “You’ve seen the fedora, haven’t you?”

Maria laughed. “I’m sure it was my imagination. Once you hear a place might be haunted, every creak becomes a ghost.”

“I’m going to show Willa around upstairs,” Colin said. “Are the guest rooms still unlocked?”

“Yes,” Maria said. “Enjoy.”

They walked back into the foyer. “Beyond the check-in desk is the banquet hall. That’s where the Women’s Society Club will be holding the gala,” Colin said as he and Willa walked up the stairs. Once they reached the top, Colin stopped at the portrait of the lady in blue. “That’s your great-great-grandmother, Rebecca Jackson. The painting was found wrapped in blankets in a closet. It’s a miracle it survived all the years of looting.”

Willa stared at her. So this was her grandmother’s grandmother. Did Grandmother Georgie know her? She had no idea. “I have her eyes,” she found herself saying.

“I know.”

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen her.”

Colin shook his head. “Paxton should have let you in on all of this. I don’t know why she didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t have been much help,” Willa said. “She did a great job on her own.”

“The guest rooms are this way.”

She stopped him from turning the corner. “No. I’ve seen enough.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s a gorgeous place. Thanks for the tour, but I really have to get back. Sorry I couldn’t be more help with the buried treasure.” She thought she was past all of this. She had no idea why it was affecting her this way.

She started to turn. And that’s when the earth moved.

She paused, then met Colin’s dark eyes. He looked as confused as she was.

“Did you feel that?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said seriously. “And I don’t like it.”

“That’s not … the ghost, is it?”

He took a moment to smile at her, as if she’d said something cute.

Then he took off down the staircase. She followed him outside, only to feel that the shaking was more pronounced out in the open. The ground was rumbling, making the large outdoor chandelier sway.

Colin looked over to where they were digging up the roots of the peach tree, which had created a fairly significant hole. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it feels like they hit a gas line. But there aren’t any gas lines here. And we had all the other underground utilities marked.”

The rumbling seemed to be getting louder, vibrating the air around them in waves that made Willa’s eardrums pound.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to blow. Get inside with Maria,” Colin said as he ran to the edge of the portico, waving his arms, trying to get the attention of the men at the dig site. “Get back,” he yelled. “Get back now!”

The men looked at him and didn’t hesitate. They ran with full force away from the hole.

Colin turned as the rumbling escalated. Willa hadn’t gone inside. She was still standing there, one hand against the wall now to keep her balance. He surprised her by grabbing her and flattening her against the side of the house. Several seconds passed, the rumbling escalating until she was sure something was going to happen. Something was going to explode. Crack. Fall away. Come to light. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in Colin’s chest, her hands fisted in his shirt. But just as it reached its crescendo, the rumbling abruptly stopped and everything became eerily quiet, with the exception of the chandelier slowly creaking as it swayed.

Colin pulled back, and he and Willa looked at each other for one long, heated moment. Then they simultaneously turned toward the backhoe. A cluster of black-and-yellow birds had settled on the machinery and were looking into the hole. One of the men cautiously approached. When he looked in, the expression on his face registered complete shock.

“What is it?” Colin called.

He tipped his hard hat back. “You’re gonna want to see this for yourself.”

“Are you okay?” Colin asked, turning back to Willa. He cupped the side of her head with one palm.

Willa nodded as she slowly loosened her hold on his shirt. Colin stepped back, then jumped off the portico and walked toward the hole. After a few deep breaths, Willa followed.

Colin got there first and looked in. “Jesus Christ.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“I think we just found the owner of the suitcase,” Colin said.

Willa looked in the hole. It took a moment to realize that what she thought was a large stone wasn’t a stone at all.

It was a human skull.

SIX

The Fairy Tale

The Peach Keeper  _3.jpg

Paxton broke through the surface of the water and swam laps until her arms burned. Her pace was frenetic, as though she was trying to swim away from something and if she just pushed a little more, she would be free of it. When she couldn’t push herself anymore, she floated for a while. It was dark, but the pool lights were so bright that she couldn’t see the stars. She wanted to stay like this forever, the water shutting out all sounds, disconnected from everything.

She finally stood, because this was no solution, and her mother would be coming out soon to tell her she’d spent too much time in the water, anyway. She pushed her wet hair out of her face and let her hands rest on top of her head as she took a deep breath and told herself that she could fix this. She could fix anything if she just put her mind to it.

She didn’t know when exactly she realized someone was outside with her. It was a gradual awareness, like the way you slowly wake up to the sound of rain at night. She turned in the water to see Sebastian sitting on one of the lounge chairs. He’d taken off his suit jacket and had tossed it onto the lounge chair next to him. He was watching her with a hooded expression. If there was one thing she had learned about him, it was that he kept his emotions close to the vest. If he didn’t want her to know how he felt, he gave absolutely nothing away.


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