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The Magnolia Palace(114)

Author:Fiona Davis

“How do you know that?” Joshua asked Veronica, dumbfounded.

“He wrote a letter to Mr. Frick, confirming that he’d be playing for him for another season. It was one of the documents downstairs.”

“Well done, girly,” said Miss Helen. “You remind me of Miss Lilly. The woman had an uncanny ability to remember details like that, to know exactly where items were that I’d lost. Too bad she was a brazen hussy of a woman.” She shook a bony finger at Joshua. “Yes, Archer Graham. That was it. Call again and ask for that name.”

Joshua dialed the operator. “I’m looking for a phone number and address for an Archer Graham in Pine Knolls, please.”

There was a pause. He scribbled wildly on a notepad, then hung up the phone. “We’ve found him.”

“So they did run off together,” said Miss Helen. “My hunch was right, yet again.”

“Do you want to call her?” Joshua turned the notepad so it was facing Miss Helen.

She shook her head. “No. That’s not the way to do it. I want to see that woman’s face when I question her. How far away is Pine Knolls?”

Joshua studied the map. “About two hours.”

“My car is outside,” said Miss Helen. “The roads are probably being cleared by now.” She looked at each of them, her usual glare of disdain replaced by a waggish gleam. “Do you want to join me? It’s always nice to have company on a jaunt into the countryside.”

“I’m guessing my classes are canceled today,” said Joshua. “I’d love to. Veronica, are you in?”

The question wasn’t delivered warmly.

The alternative to joining them was to spend the time waiting in what was probably an already-crowded airport. This would keep Veronica’s mind off of Polly’s plight, and give her the chance to apologize to Joshua for her selfish decision to steal the diamond. Also, she had to admit, she found herself eager to find out more, to meet the supermodel of the 1910s.

“Yes. I’m in.”

* * *

Veronica sat in the back of Miss Helen’s Lincoln Continental trying to focus on the horizon, which her father had always said helped prevent motion sickness. Maybe on the open seas, but it sure didn’t work on the winding roads north of the city. First of all, there was no horizon, only tree after tree whizzing by the window at a dizzying rate. Secondly, Miss Helen didn’t bother to obey the speed limit or proper driving etiquette. She tended to come up fast behind some unsuspecting driver, then stamp the brake repeatedly, coming perilously close to the back bumper of the car ahead of them. Joshua reached for the dashboard a few of times to brace himself, but after the fourth time, Miss Helen gave him a dirty look and uttered something under her breath about “lily-livers” and he’d been sitting on his hands ever since.

The temperature had risen above freezing, turning last night’s snow piles shiny and wet. Water sluiced from underneath the drifts that lined either side of the roads, and Veronica thanked her stars it wasn’t icy. Otherwise they’d certainly end up in a ditch before making it to Pine Knolls. The only thing that kept Veronica’s heart rate from skyrocketing was the fact that she was utterly exhausted. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the past two nights, as the rattling of the windows had kept her from sleeping soundly. A foggy fatigue weighed down her every thought.

Other than seeing Polly, she didn’t have much of a reason to return home, and the thought of what was ahead depressed her terribly. Explaining to her mother that she was all washed up. Dealing with Sabrina’s wrath and disappointment at her misbehavior. Going back to work for Uncle Donny.

A couple of hours later, they reached the main street of Pine Knolls, where the storefronts looked tired and shabby against the white gleam of new snow. They crossed over a set of railroad tracks and, with Joshua’s assistance on the map—Veronica didn’t envy him that task one bit; at one point he’d turned quite green—they eventually pulled up to a small farmhouse with gray shutters, set off from the road by a rock wall. An enormous oak soared over the front yard, the branches like splayed fingers.

Miss Helen pulled into the driveway and jammed the gear into park. For the drive, she’d put on a ridiculous hat with a wide brim and a ribbon, as well as leather driving gloves, as if she were handling a horse-drawn carriage, not a modern car. The woman was not of this time.

“Shall we go in?” asked Joshua.

“Maybe it’s not the right house.” Miss Helen had only peeled off one glove, like she was having second thoughts at the entire venture.