Beach Thriller(46)

Holly introduced everyone. Since Serena saw things that most people couldn’t, Holly chose honesty over a concocted story. “This is Jade. I found her squatting in the cottage, so I gave her a place to stay for a little while.”

Jade spoke up. “And I just got a job, working for Maeve Carmichael, helping to sort through her dead husband’s belongings.”

Serena took it all in stride. “It was meant to be. You two are together for a reason.”

Holly heard the puppet voice again: Find the answers … finish your novel … Maybe Serena could ask the spirits if she was going insane.

Jade set the box she was carrying on the table. “I found this outside. It’s addressed to you.”

The small parcel, about the size of a shoebox, was wrapped in brown paper and addressed to Holly, but had no return address or postage.

Holly set it aside for later. “How was work?” she asked Jade. The question struck her as funny only because it was so perfectly ordinary—as if they’d had this arrangement for years, not days.

“Maeve is a menace,” Jade said. “But there’s so much stuff to sort through that I’ll definitely be busy. I’m not sure I can get it all done before the big party she’s planning.”

“What party?” asked Holly, feeling a slight squeeze in her heart.

“She’s hosting a benefit for the Beauport Art Association. Oh, and you’re invited, by the way.” Jade handed Holly a gilded-edge, ivory vellum envelope with her name and address penned in a neat hand. “I saw it in the pile—saved them a stamp. There’s a donation form inside, but the invitation gets you in.”

Holly was shocked and revulsed to be included. “Did they invite me because you’re living here?”

“I haven’t told them,” Jade said. “They don’t seem too interested in my life. Conrad forgot to ask for my last name.”

Holly wasn’t surprised. If this town gave out superlatives, the Carmichaels surely would win Most Self-Involved. She’d be sure to be busy that night—rearranging her sock drawer or playing a game of Parcheesi against Chester.

Jade added, “I think Maeve needs to feel important because she’s old and dying and freaked out about being forgotten.”

“You can tell Maeve she has nothing to worry about,” Serena said. “Death is merely a change of address.”

“Really?” Jade pursed her lips in uncertainty. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Holly drew back slightly. “Jade’s, uh, been through a lot, Serena. She’s lost her parents. That’s a tough topic for her.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Serena looked stricken. “I realize that offers little comfort when you’re in the throes of grief. I won’t pry, but if you’d ever like a reading—on the house, of course—you let me know.” Serena placed a hand gently on Jade’s shoulder.

Holly was happy she didn’t pull away. Maybe Jade was softening.

“The eggplant should be ready—smells delicious, Serena. Why don’t you both take a seat and I’ll get the food.”

Holly ferried the hot pan from the oven to the table using dish towels as potholders. After helping themselves to generous portions of the savory meal, Serena piped up: “Jade, tell me about yourself. What brought you to Beauport?”

Jade forked some eggplant Parm into her mouth and spoke while chewing. “Well, my parents were both killed in a car accident.”

Holly found it strange how detached, almost matter-of-fact she sounded. It was as if that tragedy had happened to someone else. But Holly understood that sometimes grief became your constant companion, so ever-present that it often went unnoticed, like the air we breathe.

“I’m not quite eighteen, so I had to go live with a crappy aunt who’s like a total tyrant. I couldn’t deal, so I took off and came here.”

“You’re a runaway?” Serena’s eyebrows arched. “Why did you choose Beauport?”

Jade shrugged. “After my parents died, I had to clean out their stuff and found a necklace in their bedroom. I guess it was meant for me, because it had a jade stone attached to it. It has Beauport, Massachusetts, engraved on the back and I really want to find the store it came from. I can’t explain why, but it’s important to me.” Jade removed her necklace and handed it to Serena.

When it fell into her palm, Serena went stock-still. She stared unblinking at the piece.

“Do you recognize it?” Holly’s gears churned, trying to puzzle out Serena’s strong reaction.

“I, um—no. No, I don’t. I thought I did, but I’m mistaken.” Serena handed the piece back to Jade, who clasped it around her neck. “What about the package?” Jade asked Holly, who had forgotten all about it.

Holly never cared much for mail because it seldom brought good news. But this was a curiosity—no return address, no stamps. Someone had personally dropped it off. Maybe it was a scented candle from Gail for staging her home. She grabbed the parcel and a knife from the kitchen and slit the tape, careful not to cut too deep.

“Christmas in July,” she said with cheer as she opened the lid. She reached her hands into the box. “Ah, it’s a book.” A touch of uncertainty seeped into her voice. Something didn’t feel right.