Jordan Gray - Unearthed

“Then why allow him to talk to Rohan?”

“Maybe his pallies didn’t. Or maybe they made him talk to Rohan. Either way, Dunkirk is dead because of his friends.”

“Awfully cold-blooded, don’t you think?”

“I do. But that’s the kind of work they were in. I have to ask myself, though, how did Rohan Wallace know men such as this?” Paddington looked at Michael. “That was the grandmother with Mrs. Graham, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I think I’d like to have a word with her.”

MOLLY SAT IN THE CORNER of Rohan Wallace’s hospital room and watched Nanny Myrie softly stroke her grandson’s forehead. Rohan didn’t respond; the machines kept beeping. Molly hated the helpless feeling that filled her. She also felt intrusive, so she turned her attention to the window.

That wasn’t much better. The police cars and the crime-scene tape instantly claimed her attention. She sighed and looked down at the cell phone in her hands. Michael, where are you?

“Do you know my grandson well, Molly?”

“Not terribly. He was more Michael’s friend than mine. They did all sorts of things together.”

“Like what?”

“Sports, mostly. Hiking. Bicycling. Some fishing. Sailing. Those aren’t my types of activities. I join Michael occasionally, but he’s a much more devoted participant than I am. Rohan gave—gives—him someone to hang with.”

“I’m certain he does. Sounds like your man hasn’t quite lost touch with the boy he was.”

“No, and I don’t think he ever will.”

“Men should never completely step away from being boys. When they do, they lose the capacity to dream dreams that can change their worlds and the worlds of all those around them.” Nanny finally took the seat beside the bed. She laced her fingers through Rohan’s without disturbing the medical equipment.

“If they at least learned to pick up after themselves, it would be an improvement.”

Despite the heavy emotions trapped in the room, Nanny chuckled. “Ah, but that is part of what we must put up with in order to keep them as they are. If they were perfect, we’d have nothing to do.”

For a moment, the silence stretched. “What was Rohan like as a child, Nanny?”

The old woman shook her head. “Oh, he was quite a handful, this one was. Always into something. I ended up raising him.”

“He mentioned that several times. He loves you very much.”

“I know. That didn’t stop him from walking his own way, though. Too much of his mother in him for that.” Nanny smiled. “That’s partly my fault, of course. I was never quite the stay-at-home mother my daughter wanted.”

“I can see how flying floatplanes and helicopters could have gotten in the way of that.”

“They did. And there were any number of other adventures. I took her with me on several of them, and I think that was the root of the wanderlust that made her leave us and go out to see the world. She was a Peace Corps volunteer. Worked with Doctors Without Borders. You’ve heard of them.”

“Yes. Medical experts that work in impoverished regions.”

“Those people see a lot of bad things in the world. Sickness. War. Famine. Evil things. I lost her in West Africa. A fever took her. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. She was just…gone.”

“I’m sorry.”

Tears glittered in the old woman’s eyes. “That’s something you just never get used to. Losing someone.” She took a breath and looked at Rohan. “Rohan was only fourteen years old when she died, though he barely knew his mother after she became a doctor and went off to see the world. She never spoke of his father. My daughter never told anyone his name. I think maybe he was a married man. There was talk of a professor at her university. These things happen to young women. In her own way, I’m not sure she ever recovered from that, either.”

Molly sat quietly and listened. Outside, people talked and the world went on as usual, but inside, the past was alive again.

“Rohan missed his mother, but they’d never been close. Not close enough.”

“But he had you.”

Nanny nodded proudly. “He did have me. And I taught him to throw baseballs and fish and even to fight.”

“Fight?” That surprised Molly.

Nanny looked up at her and laughed. “I know. It seems far-fetched. Someone as small as me. But I learned how to fight because I grew up in a household with seven sisters and four brothers. You learn to scuffle in a large family.”

Molly smiled.

“Should have maybe been my husband teaching Rohan.” Nanny turned back to her grandson. “Would have been if Mose had lived. I lost him in a shipwreck during a storm. He worked with the coast guard.”

So much misery. Molly didn’t know what to say.

“Me and this one, we were always close. Always together. I made him grow up straight and tall as I could, but boys tend to have minds of their own.”

“What is he doing in Blackpool? You mentioned that he didn’t just end up here.”

“He didn’t. Something special brought him to this place.”

“What?”

Nanny smoothed Rohan’s forehead. “I don’t know for sure yet. We’ll have to figure that out. But I’m sure it had to do with the legend.”

“The one about Charles Crowe and his hidden treasure?”

“That might be part of it, but there’s more to it. You see, when Rohan was a child, I told him stories of the heritage we lost in West Africa during the slaving years. So many families got torn apart, and so much was lost. People were displaced, Molly, but heritage and culture?” Nanny shook her head. “That was all scattered and forgotten. I told Rohan that it was a wish of mine to see something of our family revealed. Our history. That was what he was doing here. And if he went to Aleister Crowe’s home, it was because he believed that family has some of that history.”

AFTER HE’D CONVINCED Paddington to talk with Nanny Myrie later, Michael left the inspector and went back into the hospital. He found Molly sitting with Nanny Myrie and Rohan. The old woman sat at her grandson’s side and softly hummed to herself. Before he could enter, Molly waved him off.

Molly got up. “Nanny?”

The old woman looked up at her.

“I’m going to step outside for a cup of tea. Would you like anything?”

“Water would be fine.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Nanny returned her attention to Rohan.

Outside the room, Molly took Michael by the arm. He kissed her forehead. “I guess I’m buying you a cup of tea.”

“You are.”

AT THE TEA SERVICE IN the waiting room, Molly looked at Michael. “You’re certain you’re all right?” She pulled at his shirt where the dead man’s blood—and his own, though he’d never tell her—had dried.

“I’m fine.” Michael poured tea and handed her a cup. “So what are we doing out here? I would have been glad to bring you a cup of tea.”

“I wanted to talk to you away from Nanny. That poor woman is already carrying enough of a burden without hearing about everything that happened out there.”

Michael sighed. “She’s going to end up hearing about it, anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because Dunkirk was visiting Rohan shortly before he was shot. I chased him out of the building.” Michael quickly related the story and brought Molly up to speed.

“This man, Dunkirk—”

“Or whatever his name actually proves to be.”

“—was working at the marina?”

“Yes.”

“On one of the restoration projects that I brought to Blackpool?”

“It appears so.”

Molly withdrew and wrapped her arms around herself.

“Hey.” Michael took her hand in his. “That man didn’t come to Blackpool to work on the marina. He came to break into Crowe’s Nest. If he hadn’t had the renovation to use as a cover, he’d have found something else. This isn’t any fault of yours.”