Amanda Stevens - The Restorer

“Sorry,” he said contritely. “You’re not trying to sneak away already, are you?”

“I’m afraid so. Unfortunately, I have to be up at the crack of dawn so I can beat the heat.”

“Well, that’s too bad. But I do understand. I have an early day, as well.”

I glanced at him with interest. “Are you working on a new case?”

“Yes. Some remains were uncovered just today.”

“At Oak Grove?” I asked anxiously.

“No, not Oak Grove. Nothing new on that front, thankfully.”

“I’ve been wondering…have you been able to identify the skeleton Devlin and I found in the chamber? I’ve read nothing about it in the paper.”

“We don’t have a name, but I have identified some interesting characteristics.”

“Can you tell me what they are?”

He leaned a shoulder against the wall. “I can do better than that depending on how squeamish you are.”

I made a face. “As long as it doesn’t involve spiders, I should be okay.”

“No spiders, I promise. Drop by the morgue at MUSC tomorrow afternoon and I’ll show you what I’ve found.”

The morgue. Maybe I was just a tad squeamish after all.

“Is that allowed?”

“You’re a consultant on the Oak Grove case, right? It said so in the paper.”

“That’s a very loose interpretation.”

“It should suffice. Call me when you get there and I’ll come out and let you in. In the meantime…” He straightened. “If you’re set on leaving so early, let me at least walk you to your car. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

I went off to say good-night to Temple and then met back up with Ethan at the door. He seemed preoccupied as we walked around to the parking area, and I wondered if he was still upset by the argument with his father.

“You wanted to talk to me?”

“It’s about John.”

That was unexpected. And the very mention of Devlin’s name took the wind right out of me. “What about him?”

Ethan propped a hand on the car door. “Have you seen him lately?”

“No, not in days.” He hadn’t called me and I hadn’t called him. I was still trying to convince myself it was for the best.

“He looks terrible, Amelia. I think the investigation is taking a toll. And this time of year is difficult for him, anyway. It’s coming up on the anniversary.”

I felt a little catch in my throat. “I didn’t know.”

“That’s probably why you haven’t heard from him. The guilt…” He made a helpless gesture with his hand. “He spends far too much time in his own gloomy company. I worry about him. He needs to get out more.”

I thought about the feminine voice I’d heard in the background that night on the phone and wondered if Devlin got out more than Ethan realized. Still, I didn’t want to minimize his concern, especially now that I knew the guilt Devlin carried with him.

“I tried to get him to come here tonight,” Ethan said. “But this is the last place he’d want to be.”

“He doesn’t seem to have much regard for the work done here,” I said carefully.

“It’s not just that. This is where he met Mariama.”

“At the Institute?”

“It wasn’t the Institute then. It was just our home. Mariama lived with us for a while. And John was my father’s protégé.”

“Protégé?” I stared at him in shock. “As in… protégé? But he doesn’t even believe in your father’s work.”

“Not now, maybe. But there was a time when he was an avid investigator.”

I couldn’t even wrap my head around that notion. “We are talking about the same man.”

Ethan smiled. “We are.”

“What happened? He’s so dismissive now.”

Ethan shrugged. “He gradually grew away from it, as most of us did back then. We had graduate school and careers to think of. It really did begin to seem like a game we were playing. Except to my father, of course.” I heard a shade of bitterness in his voice that made me wonder again about that argument. “On the night of the accident, John came here to see Father. He wanted help contacting Mariama’s and Shani’s spirits. He pleaded with Father to help him open a door so that he could cross over and see them one last time.”

I could barely comprehend that level of desperation. It hurt me to even think about it. “That’s…”

“I know. I think by that point he was very nearly mad with grief. He became violent and uncontrollable. Called Father a fraud and worse. Father thought he would have to call someone for help, but John finally left of his own accord. That’s when he disappeared. No one knew where he’d gone off to. I think we all feared the worst. Then we began hearing those rumors that he’d been admitted to a private sanitarium. It was probably just talk. People love to embellish. But John did come back a changed man. He got better after a time, but when I saw him yesterday…” Ethan trailed off worriedly. “I think it’s that house.”

“What house?”

“Mariama’s house. Ever since the accident, he’s been renting a place on Sullivan’s Island, but he never got rid of her house. It’s a gorgeous old Queen Anne right off Beaufain. Mariama was crazy about it. I went by there the other day. The garden was well tended, the porch had a fresh coat of blue paint. I think he’s moved back in.”

“Maybe he was just ready to go back home.”

“Maybe,” Ethan said, but he didn’t sound at all convinced.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“I don’t quite know. I just thought…here.” He pressed a piece of paper into my palm. “It’s the address. Just in case you’re so inclined.”

I was not so inclined. I told myself I was going straight home, maybe have another cup of Essie’s Life Everlasting and go straight to bed. I had a long day at the cemetery ahead of me tomorrow and I needed to rest up.

And I think I would have done exactly that had I not seen Devlin coming out of the palmist’s house across the street.

I had just driven around the Institute and was about to pull onto the street when I saw him on Madam Know-It-All’s front porch.

They had just come out of the house, Devlin and a woman—the palmist, I presumed—and though I couldn’t see her features as clearly as his underneath the porch light, I knew she was attractive. I could tell by the way she carried herself. Really gorgeous women have an air about them. Temple and Camille both had it. Mariama’s ghost still had it.

Devlin appeared to be in the process of leaving, but then the woman touched his shoulder and he spun back around. There was nothing particularly sexual about the interaction, but I did sense some intimacy in the way he peered down into her upturned face and a measure of urgency when he took her by the arms. My window was open, but I couldn’t hear a word of their conversation, no matter how hard I strained.

I wasn’t proud of myself for trying to eavesdrop, nor for easing onto the street behind Devlin’s car when he drove off a few minutes later. I didn’t know what had come over me. I hadn’t been raised like this. Discretion and decorum went hand in hand in our household, and I had a sudden vision of how appalled my mother would be at my behavior. Listening in on private conversations. Following a man home without his knowledge or permission. Her imagined censure made me wince, but it didn’t stop me.

I had no idea how to tail someone—much less a cop—without being spotted, but instinct told me to hang back. Traffic was light so I allowed a good half block between us. But with such a wide gap, I was afraid I might lose him if he made too many turns.

Thanks to Ethan, I had some idea of where Devlin was headed. From Rutledge he turned right on Beaufain, then left onto a side street. I drove past the intersection and circled back, giving him time to park and get inside.