Amanda Stevens - The Restorer

The house was all lit up, the doors thrown open to the mild night, giving me a glimpse of what the grand old antebellum must have looked like in her glory days. If I closed my eyes, I could almost hear the faint strains of a fiddle and the swish of hoopskirts gliding across the dance floor.

The same blonde let me in through the side entrance, then disappeared down the hallway with my gift—a replica deck of fifteenth-century Visconti-Sforza hand-painted tarot cards. As I stepped into a roomful of people I’d never set eyes on, my first inclination was to turn around and go back out the same way I’d come in. But then I spotted Temple conversing with someone across the room and she waved me over.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” I said as I made my way through the crowd. “Did you drive all the way down here for the party?”

“I had business in Charleston, anyway.” She grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby tray and handed it to me. I hadn’t seen her since the day of the exhumation. She looked very different tonight, in a slinky silver dress that shimmered like liquid mercury in the light.

Her companion turned then and I recognized Daniel Meakin.

“You remember Daniel?” Temple said, barely suppressing her disdain.

“Yes, of course. It’s good to see you again.”

“You, as well,” he said with a warm smile. “I haven’t seen you around in the archives lately.”

“There’s no need now that Oak Grove has been put on hold. I’ve moved on to another cemetery.”

He frowned. “That’s a shame. I had such high hopes for that restoration. Do you have any idea when you’ll be able to return?”

Before I could respond, Temple squeezed my arm. “Have you seen Rupert yet?”

“I…just got here.” She knew that because she’d seen me walk in.

Looping her arm through mine, she pulled me gently away. “We really should find him and offer our best wishes. I think I saw him go into his office. Will you excuse us, Daniel?”

“Oh…of course.” He looked a little forlorn as we walked off.

“I thought I’d never get away from him,” Temple muttered. “He latched onto me as soon as I walked in.”

“Shush. He’ll hear you.”

“I don’t care. He gives me the creeps.”

“So you’ve mentioned.” I glanced over my shoulder. “I think he’s kind of sweet. Have you ever noticed the way he holds his left arm? His scars must bother him constantly.”

“Scars?” She looked at me meaningfully. “As in more than one?”

“I saw them one day in the archives room when his shirtsleeve slipped up. They crisscross back and forth over the vein, like he’s tried many times but never gone quite deep enough to succeed. It’s really sad when you think about it. Has he no family?”

“I don’t know a lot about his background. I seem to recall someone mentioning once that he was at Emerson by the kindness of some well-to-do relative. I really didn’t pay that much attention to Daniel. He was one of those people that just faded into the woodwork.”

Like me, I thought.

“How is it that you didn’t know Mariama at Emerson?” I asked. “I can’t imagine her fading into the woodwork. Devlin, either, for that matter.”

“Devlin was at Emerson? He must have been behind me. I didn’t mingle a lot with underclassmen. By my junior year, I pretty much kept to the same circle of people with mutual interests.”

“Like Camille?”

She closed her eyes briefly. “I still can’t believe it. We had our differences, but I never would have wished something like that on her.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

She gave me an annoyed look. “Oh, no, you don’t. We’re not doing the inquisition thing tonight. This is a party. And if you don’t mind, I’d just as soon not think about what happened to poor Camille. Because if it happened to her…” She broke off on a shudder.

We paused at the end of the hallway where Dr. Shaw’s office was located. The sounds of a bitter quarrel emanated through a crack in the pocket doors, and Temple and I exchanged glances. Before we could retreat, the doors slid open and Ethan strode through. He stopped cold when he saw us.

“I didn’t know anyone was out here.”

“We just came up,” Temple said smoothly.

Relief flashed across his face. It was obvious he and his father had been arguing and just as apparent that he hadn’t wanted to be overheard.

“We’ve come to wish Rupert a happy birthday,” Temple added.

Ethan waved us in. “Perhaps you can persuade him to come out and join the festivities,” he said on a note of irritation. “He’s being as petulant as a child about this whole thing.”

“I’ll do my best.”

While Temple went in to find Dr. Shaw, I remained in the hallway to have a word with Ethan.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

He looked annoyed. “He’s been in a state for weeks now. One of his former assistants is publishing a book using Father’s research without giving him credit.”

“That would be upsetting, particularly if this assistant stole the material.”

“How did you know about that?” Ethan asked in surprise.

“Last time I saw your father, he said someone had been slowly leeching his life’s work.”

“Yes, well, as I said, he’s got himself all worked up about it. He wants to sue, but lawsuits are expensive. Father’s never had to worry about money so he doesn’t have a clue. But enough about that.” His smile seemed to take a bit of effort. “How’s your mother?”

“Her treatment is going well and she’s in good spirits. Much better than I’ve been, actually. I’m trying to remedy that, though. I thought an outing might do me good.”

“You do look more rested than the last time I saw you.”

I tried to remember when that was. At Oak Grove, hours before we’d discovered Camille’s body. He’d told me about the day Mariama and Shani had died. And later Devlin had come to my house and kissed me, but I tried not to think about that.

Now that the office doors were open, a steady stream of people filed in to see Dr. Shaw. “I should go say hello.”

Ethan nodded. “Like I said, he’s in a mood, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

But Dr. Shaw seemed fine to me. I saw nothing of the disheveled, suspicious man who’d been convinced someone was stealing his life’s work. I wanted to ask him about that, but a celebration was hardly the place to bring up something so obviously distressing.

He watched me with keen eyes as he swirled brandy in a glass. “How have you been, Amelia? Any more events that I should know about?”

“Thankfully, no. No more shadow beings, no more psychic vampires. My life is pretty uneventful at the moment, paranormally speaking.”

Someone had come up beside him, and when Dr. Shaw turned to shake hands, I saw the silver spark of his ring. I’d never been able to make it out before, but after seeing Daniel Meakin’s drawing, it was so clearly a snake coiled around a talon.

The same symbol that Devlin wore around his neck.

I tore my focus from the ring and studied the faces of those gathered around Dr. Shaw. They were of all ages, welldressed, educated, intellectuals. Emerson’s finest. I wondered how many of them secretly wore that same symbol somewhere on his or her person.

Murmuring my excuses, I slipped out of the office and wandered down the hallway, feeling strangely claustrophobic in that house and inexplicably paranoid. No one there had any reason to want to harm me, but I couldn’t help remembering what Dr. Shaw had said about the killer that day. He could be someone in our midst. Someone we least expect—

A hand fell on my shoulder and I whirled, hand to my heart. “Ethan! You startled me.”