The Sometime Sister by Katherine Nichols (e novels for free .TXT) 📗

My mysterious guide stopped and pointed to the container. “That is a funeral urn containing the skull of a former resident,” he explained and continued walking.

I looked closer and, indeed, there was what appeared to be a human skull lodged in the container. Shuddering, I hurried to catch up. We came to a small clearing and a long rectangular building. A wooden sign announced we had reached El Museo de las Antiguedos, The Museum of Antiquities, according to my limited knowledge of Spanish.

“Please, Señor Balsuto, why have you brought me here? What does this place have to do with my sister?”

“If you would indulge me.” He pushed open the door. The dimly lit room was at least ten degrees cooler. Shafts of sunlight laden with dancing particles of dust illuminated the shelves of ceramic pots and tiny wooden figures.

“Welcome to what remains of the Valdivian culture. A friend of my father is the curator and owner of this modest facility dedicated to preserving a small portion of the history of my people.”

He took my hand again, and we walked past the exhibit room through the back exit. I blinked in the punishing light. When my eyes adjusted, an explosion of color greeted me. The contrast between the darkness and the brilliant hues was other worldly. We sat on a stone bench in the middle of the garden.

“Lovely, isn’t it? Perhaps a reminder to us that while we think we are the masters of the universe, it is nature that will prevail. Do you smell that? Ecuadorian roses. The most beautiful fragrance in the world.”

An aroma of musk and strawberries drifted through the air.

“We came here often. She said it reminded her of home, your grandmother and her flowers.”

I hadn’t thought of Gran’s garden in years. Tea roses, somewhat temperamental and difficult to cultivate, were her favorite. My sister picked the buds to watch them spread open in a vase. But I hated that. I wanted to let them stay outside and blossom in the sun.

“Thinking about home was hard for your sister. She missed you and your mother very much. She would not talk about it, but I guessed you and she had a falling out. I gathered her husband was involved.” His upper lip curled. “I could not comprehend how such a man captured someone like Stella. Now I cannot fathom how he could have attracted a woman of your caliber.”

“I don’t understand it myself. But I didn’t come here to talk about me. Do you have information about her or not?”

“I will tell you all I know.”

“That would be wonderful, Senor Balsuto.”

“Yes, but you must call me Adelmo.” He held my hand. “Agreed?”

I nodded, surprised at the flutter I felt at his touch.

“We met at a party Wilcott had for some of our mutual business associates. I intended to make an appearance and leave. But then I saw her, standing on the deck, gazing at the ocean. Her white dress was cut low in the back. Her skin shone with moonlight. When I reached her side, she turned and smiled. But the smile stopped at her eyes, so beautiful like the sea.” He sighed and looked toward the water. “It is, how would you say, corny?” Adelmo laughed softly. “Yes, corny. But I was lost.”

I started to tell him he wasn’t the first man to get lost over Stella; instead, I nodded and waited for him to continue.

“I explained I knew her husband through business connections, and the smile disappeared. She backed off as if to run. I begged her to stay. I thought at first, she would refuse, but, to my surprise, she led me to a secluded spot where we could see the ocean. We spoke for hours before noticing the last of the guests was leaving. Stella told me I must go. She seemed frightened, but I could not leave so soon. I pleaded with her to meet me the following day at a café in the village. She agreed to try but made no promise.”

“Please, Adelmo,” I interrupted. “I love a romantic fairy tale as much as the next person, but I’m pressed for time. Do you think you could cut to the chase?” He looked puzzled. “Could you skip to the part that pertains to how she died?”

“The story cannot be rushed, dear Grace. I need you to understand our relationship was no cheap dalliance. We had a deep connection from the beginning. I loved your sister very much. But I will try to, as you say, slice to the chase.”

He told me there were many parties after that, including Halloween when he had become Rhett to Stella’s Scarlett. He knew these elaborate get-togethers were her way of fighting her growing unhappiness in her marriage. At some point they became “intimate,” and he discovered welts and bruises on her body. When he questioned her, she denied it was her husband, but Adelmo was no fool.

They saw each other whenever Ben was out of town. He realized what they had was much more than some tawdry affair. Stella admitted her husband was hurting her, and she wanted to leave him and go home. Even though it would have meant losing her, he vowed to help. About that time Ben became suspicious. She insisted she was being followed, so they took a break. They stayed in touch through letters delivered by Eva until Ben intercepted one and fired her. The next day he received another note telling him they were finished.

“But I did not believe her. I knew she loved me as much as I loved her. Something had frightened her. She feared Ben was desperate, that she might not be the only one he would hurt. That he might go after someone she loved. He had made threats in the past. And he knows many dangerous people, both here and in the States.”

“You think he threatened me or my mother?”

“She never said so directly, but I