“I could show you a lot about . . .” She heard Travis say as their voices faded into the distance.
Kim sat down on a flat stone near the plants she most admired. They were tall, with seed-filled heads that looked as delicate as rays of sunshine. She pulled out her phone, snapped a photo of one of them, and sent it to her cousin Tristan. WHAT IS THIS? she wrote.
Kim started sketching, translating the shapes into jewelry. The chain would be made of long, thin tendrils, like the leaves of the plant. She drew a curved shape with tiny spirals inside it that would clasp one edge of the chain. She’d put a pearl at the center of each one. The earrings had a thin leaf that would curve up a woman’s ear.
Her phone buzzed; it was Tristan. ANGELICA, he wrote. WHERE DID YOU SEE THAT?
Standing, she stepped back to get a full view of the garden. When she couldn’t get a good photo that showed the design of it, she climbed on the surrounding wall, snapped, and sent it to Tr
is.
When she started to get down, the loose rocks slid under her feet, which flew out from under her. She would have fallen but a strong arm caught her.
It was Red from the B&B.
“Are you all right?” he asked as he helped her down.
“Fine, but thanks.”
“I told you this place was dangerous,” he said, his tone sounding severe. “Last year a woman nearly broke her leg here.”
Kim sat down in the shade on an old doorsill.
“Don’t lean back,” he said. “That door doesn’t look to be securely on its hinges.”
She wiped dirt off her trousers and flicked sand out of her hair. “Are you the town watchdog?”
“More or less,” he said. “I was on the way to the garage but made a detour by here. Looks like my worry paid off. You didn’t come here alone, did you?”
“No. I have two big strong men with me.”
He laughed. “Your young man and . . . ?”
“His—” She hesitated. “His friend.”
“But not yours?” Bending, Red picked up her sketchbook. “May I?”
She gestured that it was all right for him to look at what she’d drawn.
“These are pretty,” he said as he brushed off some dirt. “Do you make these into jewelry?”
“Yes. I have a shop in Edilean. That’s in—”
“Virginia!” he said. “I used to go fishing there. Nice little town. I like the old houses. I don’t remember a jewelry store, but I do remember a place that sold baby clothes.” Red sat down on the low wall. “Why would I remember that?”
“Because they are extraordinary,” Kim said. “The shop is called Yesterday and it’s owned by a lovely woman, Mrs. Olivia Wingate.”
“Does she make the clothes?”
“No. Lucy makes most of them.”
“Lucy Wingate?”
“No. She’s . . .” Kim trailed off. Everything about Lucy was too much of a secret to talk about. “Do you know who owns this place?” She gestured at the Old Mill.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I’ve seen a young woman here, but I don’t know who she is.”
“She’s under forty?”