Deadly Ever After by Eva Gates (distant reading .txt) 📗

Bertie’s office, and we’d gathered to hear Bertie formally tell us Charlene was leaving and what would happen next. James had his arm thrown casually over Charlene’s shoulders, and Daisy, who had not the least bit of interest in talk of a house a mere century old, was flipping through a fashion magazine.

Historic homes and cottages of Nags Head, like the one we’d just—gulp—bought, are known as the unpainted aristocracy for the simple reason that the original cedar shakes are unpainted, the wood allowed to deepen and darken with age so the buildings now blend with the shoreline. The majority of the houses have been passed down through the generations, and each generation has made as little as possible in the way of improvements or modernizations in order to preserve the property’s historic charm. A beloved and important part of Nags Head history and heritage, the majority of them cluster in a group close to town.

“We know that,” I said. “But Connor thinks the work will be manageable.”

Connor had crawled over just about every inch of the house yesterday and decided that the house did, as Ralph had said, have good bones. “It needs a lot of cosmetic work, Lucy, and some updating in the kitchen and bathroom, but the structure is sound,” he’d told me. “Other than that, I wouldn’t want to modernize it much at all. It deserves to be left largely as it is.”

I’d read the glow in his eyes and realized he was already head over heels in love.

“Connor and his dad can do a lot of the work themselves, and what they can’t do or what they don’t have time to do, the price of the house itself is good enough we can afford to hire a contractor.”

“You’ll be close to work and right on the beach,” Charlene said. “I think it’s an excellent choice.”

“Except for the haunting bit,” James said.

“Yes, there is that,” I admitted. “The supposed haunting bit. I’ve spent a lot of time listening to Louise Jane try to convince me the lighthouse is haunted, to no avail, so I’m inclined not to believe anything she says about that. Ralph Harper never married, but he lives with his sister Jo, who’s refused to so much as set foot in the house since she ran out of it one night when she was seventeen years old.”

“Why?” Ronald asked.

“Louise Jane was cagey about that.” So cagey I’d been immediately suspicious. If her aunt Jo had seen an actual ghost, Louise Jane would have delighted in telling me all about it. I suspected a teenage prank gone wrong. “The main reason the house hasn’t sold isn’t because it’s supposedly haunted but because Ralph won’t sell it to just anyone. His grandparents built it, and his parents lived in it until his mother died. Peacefully in her sleep, I might add. It’s never been on the open market, because Ralph doesn’t want casual tourists wandering through. He’s been waiting fifteen years, since his mother’s death, for the right buyer to come along. And, it would seem, Connor and I are the right buyers.”

“When do you move in?” Charlene asked.

“Soon, I hope. Once the water and electricity are connected, we can live in one or two rooms while much of the work’s being done. It’s going to take a long time.”

“Are you happy about this?” Ronald asked.

I thought of Connor’s beaming dust- and spider-web-covered face as he finished his inspection. Ralph Harper’s kind eyes as he told me he wanted me to live in the house his grandparents had built. The sound of the surf at my door, the scent of salt in my hair, the cry of gulls circling overhead, the quiet creak of old floorboards.

“Yes. I am. It’s perfect. It’s time for me to leave the Lighthouse Aerie and start my new life, and I can’t think of a better place in which to do that.”

“Good afternoon, all!” Theodore joined us. “I hear you had some excitement recently, Lucy.” Ronald hurried to lock the door behind the new arrival before anyone else could wander in.

“Connor and I have put an offer in on a house,” I said.

“You did? That’s all fine and good, but I meant excitement of a criminal nature.”

“Oh yes, that. The police made an arrest in the death of Rich Lewiston.”

“Glad to hear it. We can all rest easier tonight knowing Nags Head’s finest are up to the job.”

“With Lucy’s help, as usual,” Charlene said.

Theodore tilted his head to one side. I sucked in a breath. I know Teddy well, but I’d never before quite noticed the shape of his eyes, the smaller-than-average teeth, the plump lips … the full head of hair.

And I understood. Evangeline hadn’t been reacting to James when she saw him the first time but to Theodore, who’d come in with the group. Theodore’s as much a feature of the library as the table in the alcove and the books on the shelves, so I hadn’t even considered that seeing him was what had so shocked Evangeline. She’d reacted much the same way at book club, when James hadn’t been there. Theodore had.

I’ve met Mrs. Kowalski, Theodore’s mother, but I’d never heard mention of a Mr. Kowalski. I’d simply assumed he was dead or Theodore’s parents were long divorced.

I remembered back to the night Mom and I waited at the police station with Evangeline. I’d tried to question Evangeline as to what she knew about James Dalrymple, but she’d turned the conversation to Theodore. At the time I thought it a clever diversion, but it wasn’t that at all. What had she said about Theodore? She was surprised he’d be able to afford to make a substantial contribution to the library restoration fund. The only way she’d know that would be if she had some knowledge of his financial situation.

Which meant she not only knew of him, but she knew many of the details of his life.

Theodore Kowalski was Rich Lewiston’s son.

“Lucy?” He peered intently at me. “Is something