The Sky Beneath Her(98)

Before I could reply, there was another knock at the door. Nathan muttered a curse.

“Hold that thought,” I said.

My footsteps echoed in the empty house as I crossed to the door. When I opened it, I found Mr. Brooks standing on the front steps. He looked so much like his great-uncle that it was hard not to mistake the two for each other. He wore khakis, a white pullover, a blazer, and loafers. Casual but still kind of formal. “Mr. Brooks. Please come in.”

“As I said in my email, I’m here on vacation for a week. Made sense to stop by and see the house. Your detailed reports have been very interesting.”

In the last report, I’d included a PDF of the manuscript pages, as well as the images of Dr. Brooks in front of the house with Frank Stick and the mystery brunette. “I hope they were helpful.”

“Fascinating. The detailed inventory list of furniture and what they sold for at auction was thorough.” He reached into his pocket and removed an envelope. “I’d like you to have this.”

My gaze drifted to the slim envelope. “What’s this?”

“It’s from the sale of the furniture.”

“Does the number work for you? I thought the auction house did a great job of getting top dollar.” I knew the number because I’d been on site the day of the sale and reviewed all the receipts.

“It’s acceptable. And I’d like you to have it.”

“It’s too generous for me to accept.”

“The estate doesn’t need it. And my great-uncle would rather you have it.”

“He’s already done so much for me. He set up the fund for me, and I’m pretty sure he helped me get the job at your firm.”

“We were lucky to have you.”

“I can’t take this money.”

“Yes, you can.”

He spoke with such certainty I didn’t argue. “This is very generous. Thank you.” I sensed Nathan behind me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce you two. Mr. Brooks, this is Nathan Rogan. We dove the Oceanus together a few weeks ago.”

Nathan crossed and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Brooks. I had the pleasure of reading your great-uncle’s manuscript, and it was fascinating.”

Mr. Brooks accepted Nathan’s hand. “Pleasure is mine. I read the copy Tula sent me. Never a more documented wreck, I think. Nan always said you had an excellent eye for detail, Tula.”

Nan hadn’t always loved that attention to detail. She’d scrawled “compulsive” on my last job review. “Hopefully I didn’t overwhelm you.”

“Not at all.” He looked around the house. “You’ve done an amazing job. The house feels alive again.”

“It was always alive. Just a little dormant. Can I give you the grand tour?”

“Sure.”

I walked both men through the house and each clean room. I felt a sense of satisfaction that I was leaving it in good shape.

“Whoever buys the house will have a gem,” I said. “The sunrise views in the morning are amazing.”

“You’re right about that. I had a lot of happy memories in this house.”

“You were here as a kid?” I asked.

“I was here often.” He walked into his great-uncle’s office and looked toward the hiding space in the floor, the cleaned seams now clearly visible. For a moment, he said nothing. “Excellent work.”

“Thank you.”

“The house has already sold,” he said. “Word of mouth, so I never needed an agent.”

“I can be out today, if I need to be.”

“Beginning of August is fine.”

“In the manuscript, your great-uncle delivered a baby on the lifeboat. Did that really happen?”

“I don’t know. My great-uncle never told me much about the wreck.”

“He was a medical doctor?”

Mr. Brooks shook his head. “He had several PhDs and was well read. I assume he’d read about delivering babies in a book.”

“He sounded like he was confident in the manuscript.” I hesitated. “Do you think Dr. Brooks wrote it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think he had anything to do with William’s demise?”

Mr. Brooks looked amused. “I’m an attorney. I could never answer a question like that.”

“The manuscript just ended. There was no accounting of the passengers. I was especially interested in Gertrude and Sigrid.”

“I can’t help you with that,” Mr. Brooks said.

“My great-grandmother Margaret was on the Oceanus. I didn’t see Margaret’s name on the ship’s passenger list.”

“I’m glad you mentioned that. I almost forgot. I found a picture of Margaret in my great-uncle’s files.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out an envelope and handed it to me.

I opened the envelope and pulled out the single photo. It appeared to have been taken in the late 1940s. It was of a woman, a man, and a little boy. I recognized the woman immediately.

“That’s Margaret and Kevin Riggs and their son,” Mr. Brooks said.

“She’s the woman in the pictures with Dr. Brooks. They were standing in front of this house.”