Amanda Stevens - The Abandoned

Did he consider her one of those odd side projects? Ree wondered.

He was watching her again, half smiling.

“What?” she demanded.

“Nothing. Tell me about this Amelia person we’re going to see.”

Ree still wondered about that smile. “She was…different. I don’t ever remember seeing her at a party or a ball game or any other kind of social event. She spent a lot of time in cemeteries. Her father was a caretaker and I think she helped him out a lot. She wasn’t a total outcast, but she was known for being a bit of a freak.”

“In that case, I look forward to meeting her,” Hayden said, and a prickle of jealousy caught Ree completely by surprise.

A little while later, Ree wondered if she might have built up Amelia’s eccentricity a little too much because when she opened the door she couldn’t have looked more normal. No fluttering silk. No crown of roses. In fact, she was dressed much like Ree in jeans, T-shirt and sneakers. Light makeup. Ponytail. Just your average girl next door.

Hayden lifted a brow and Ree shrugged as Amelia led them back to her office, a pleasant room with floor-to-ceiling bookcases and tall windows that looked out on a garden. While she went to make tea, they studied the framed photos on the walls—graveyards double-exposed over cityscapes. The effect was lovely, but a little gloomy for Ree’s taste.

“How long have you been interested in cemeteries?” Amelia asked as she came back in with a tea tray.

“It’s a recent development,” Ree said. “Although I used to visit Rosehill with my grandmother. She loved all the symbols on the old headstones. She called it graveyard art.”

“I love it, too,” Amelia said as she fiddled with the cups. “Gravestone symbolism can tell you a lot about the deceased. How they lived and how they died. And about the loved ones they left behind.” She offered them tea, then waved toward a chaise as she sat down behind her desk. Ree and Hayden perched side by side with their cups.

Ree’s gaze slipped back to Amelia. She looked young and innocent sitting there in the morning light—younger than Ree, even—but there was something dark in her face. Something cold and shadowy behind her blue eyes.

“So…Oak Grove Cemetery,” she finally said, and Ree could have sworn the woman shuddered as she said the name. But it was probably just her imagination. Why would Amelia Gray, of all people, be repulsed by the mention of a graveyard?

“I understand you’re being considered for the restoration,” Ree said. “That’s why I contacted you. I thought you might be able to answer some of my questions.”

Amelia looked surprised. “I was led to believe the Oak Grove project is to be kept under wraps until the restoration is completed.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” Ree said. “Your name was mentioned in a private conversation I overheard.”

“I see.”

“Specifically, we’re trying to find out when and why the cemetery was abandoned,” Hayden interjected. Until then, he’d been mostly silent, letting Ree take the lead. She glanced at him now as she set aside her cup. She found it both comforting and a little disconcerting to have him there with her. Comforting after the episode at the police station and disconcerting because she was so very aware of him. She’d never taken to anyone so quickly, though she realized the way they’d met had created a fantasy element to her attraction. A misty cemetery, a handsome stranger and a dream that had led her to both.

Ree shivered as she forced her attention back to the present.

“I’m afraid I can’t be of much help,” Amelia was saying. “I’ve walked the cemetery a few times in order to prepare my bid, but I don’t normally do a lot of research unless I’m awarded the contract.”

“Can you at least tell us if there are any Tisdales buried in Oak Grove?” Ree asked hopefully. “Ilsa Tisdale perhaps?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know. But if you’ve got the time and enough patience, you can probably find what you’re looking for in the Emerson library. Most of the Oak Grove records are stored in the archives.”

“Thanks,” Ree said. “And thanks for seeing us this morning. I’m sorry we wasted your time.”

“Before you go…there is something you should know about Oak Grove.”

Ree had been in the process of standing, but now she dropped back down on the chaise. Something in Amelia’s voice, an echo of that darkness behind her eyes, caused Ree to draw a sharp breath. Hayden must have heard because she sensed his gaze on her.

Amelia stared down into her cup, as if divining a message from the tea leaves. For some reason, Ree was reminded of her grandmother’s cousin, the one who had supposedly been born with a caul, leaving her with second sight.

When Amelia looked up, Ree felt an odd sense of foreshadowing, like a premonition if she believed in cauls and second sight.

“I’ve always found cemeteries to be lovely, restful places, even the forgotten ones. But Oak Grove is different. There’s something inside those walls I can’t explain. A feeling of darkness…” She trailed away, her gaze going to Hayden, as if sensing a kindred spirit.

“I experienced a similar sensation in a small rural graveyard in Kansas,” he said.

“Stull Cemetery,” she said.

“You’ve been there?”

“Once.” Her eyes darkened. “I’ve never been back.”

“It was a strange experience,” Hayden said. “I definitely sensed something but the readings remained static. I was only able to pick up a minor, indistinguishable sound on the DVR. Pretty disappointing for a place that’s known as one of the seven lost gateways to hell.”

“You’re an investigator?” Was that the vaguest hint of fear Ree heard in Amelia’s voice? “Amateur or professional?”

Hayden shrugged. “A little of both, I guess. Right now I’m doing some work for the Charleston Institute for Parapsychology Studies.”

“You must know Rupert Shaw then.”

“Everyone in my business knows Dr. Shaw,” Hayden said. “He’s a legend. How do you know him?”

“He helped me find this house when I first moved to Charleston. I’ll always be grateful to him for that because I feel very safe here.”

Ree realized she hadn’t said anything for several minutes. Their conversation about Stull Cemetery had both fascinated and repelled her. A lost gateway to hell? Seriously?

Amelia plucked a polished stone from a basket she kept on her desk and handed it to Ree.

“What’s this?”

“A keepsake from Rosehill Cemetery,” she said. “When I was a little girl, I was certain these stones contained magical properties. I kept one with me at all times.”

“I’ve never been a big believer in magic,” Ree murmured.

“Yes, I remember that about you,” Amelia said, her tone unexpectedly soft.

“Thank you anyway.” Ree pocketed the stone with what she hoped was the proper amount of reverence.

Amelia walked them to the door and stood on the front porch to see them off. As they exited the garden gate, Hayden said under his breath, “Wow.”

Ree glanced at him. “Did you like her?”

“Like? I don’t know if I’d say that. But you’re right. She is different. And probably one of the most fascinating people I’ve met in years.”

“Should I be jealous?” Ree tried to mimic his earlier tone.

They were at his car now and Hayden did something very surprising, something Ree would never have predicted. He bent and kissed her. Not a mere peck, but a real kiss, one that deepened almost instantly. The birds stopped chirping and the breeze died away. Everything became very still. At least it seemed so to Ree. Nothing existed for her but Hayden…the scent of him, the feel of him. The slight hitch in his breath… She put her hands on his chest as she tilted her head and parted her lips. She could feel his heart thudding beneath her palm and her own breath quickened as she started to remember things about that night in Oak Grove. How she had gone to him without hesitation. How she had undressed for him without inhibition.