Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
“ I t’s just a thought and a last resort,” I said, after explaining to Ian that we might need Stone’s help getting back into the Willow Mausoleum. “He would have to have proof that he had the right to enter the mausoleum.”
“I can see why you would consider it, but it is too early in the investigation to go that route,” Ian said. “And if by chance it becomes the only thing left to us, you won’t be going alone with the biker. I will be going with you.” He rested his nose to mine. “Promise me.”
His lips were too close to ignore, so I kissed him. “I promise. Besides, I wouldn’t want to hunt for a secret passageway in a mausoleum with anyone but you.”
“I am looking forward to it,” Ian said.
While Ian got busy uncorking a chilled bottle of chardonnay, I popped a bag of popcorn in the microwave. It was movie night, and Rear Window, 1954, with Jimmy Stewart and Grace Kelly was the headliner, a tension-filled film we both enjoyed.
“Do you know if any design plans for the mausoleum exist?” he asked and handed me a glass of chardonnay.
“Amy is going to check with the Willow Lake Historical Society and see what they might know. Dan told me that the mausoleum’s records reside with the church, so I’m going to talk with Reverend Herbert and see if he would be willing to let me look at the records.”
“Both good places to start,” Ian said, grabbing a bowl for the popcorn that finished popping. “Do you think this biker guy is telling the truth and he is a descendant of the Willow family?”
“Claiming to be a descendant of the Willow family isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to have to prove it to gain entrance and with how confident he sounded about being a relative of the Willow family I’m thinking he may have proof.”
“Who presently holds the deed to the mausoleum?” Ian asked.
“I believe it’s the church, but Reverend Herbert can probably tell me since he has the records. I intend to call the church tomorrow and see when the reverend is free. I could let you know, and you could join me if you’re available.”
“That would be great, Pep,” Ian said.
“Also, I meant to tell you what Kate told me.” I told him about the two hooded sweatshirt guys who bought The History of Willow Lake book within a short time of each other.
“That’s odd,” Ian said.
“Too odd to be a coincidence.”
I held onto my wine glass while I grabbed the bowl of popcorn and Ian carried the bottle of chardonnay and his wine glass to the living room where we settled ourselves on the couch to enjoy the movie.
“I don’t think this is going to be easy to solve, Pep,” Ian said. “We don’t have a dead body or a crime.”
“True, but we have a mystery, and I don’t think either one of us is going to rest until we find out how the guy in the mausoleum vanished.”
“The reverend can see me at eleven?” I said, nodding at Ian to see if that worked for him the next morning.
He hurried to check his daily schedule on his phone and nodded.
“That works for Ian and me, Millie,” I said, to let her know I wouldn’t be alone. “No. No. Nothing to do with wedding plans, Millie. Yes, someday. Thanks again, Millie.”
“Was that panic I heard in your voice when a wedding was mentioned?” Ian asked, walking over to me, a teasing smile on his handsome face as he slipped his arm around my waist and eased me against him.
“We haven’t even known each other a full year yet,” I said in a way of a plausible excuse.
“I agree. Our relationship has barely gotten started, but I’m wondering why you seem to panic when a wedding or marriage is mentioned.”
I shook my head. “It’s not the marriage itself. It’s wedding planning and the big day. I think my mom has been planning for the big day since I was born. I just don’t know if I could handle that much fuss and endless planning. I remember my brother Danny’s wedding,” —I shivered— “and he was the groom. I don’t know how Kelly held it together.”
“You’re a prepper and used to being prepped and prepared.”
“That’s a far cry from planning a wedding and dealing with endless problems, who to invite, who not to sit with who, picking out this and that, and—” A shudder ran through me.
“A wedding doesn’t have to be like that.”
“Tell that to my mom.”
Ian went to disagree, then stopped.
I laughed. “You have gotten to know my mom.”
“She is difficult to say no to.” He kissed me. “But we’ll manage.”
“Is that a proposal because if it is, pal, I have to say BIG failure all the way,” I teased with a laugh.
Ian grinned. “Now you’ve gone and challenged me.”
“No. No,” I said, stepping away from him shaking my head. “We should not even be discussing this. It is too early in our relationship to even give it a thought.” I shook my finger at him. “I do not like grand gestures where I’m put on the spot or in the spotlight. Simple. Simple. I like simple if the time should ever come.”
“When the time comes, I’ll make it memorable,” he said with a hint of laughter.
“When? You’re letting me know that you intend to marry me?” Okay, so my heart started beating faster.
“It’s not something I haven’t alluded to.”
“Alluded,” I said, pointing out the vast difference while my stomach fluttered like a young lass in love. Drats, there I go again sounding like one of Amy’s romance novels.
He grabbed me by the shoulders and gave me a quick kiss. “I love you, Pep, and that’s not going to change. And I know you love me though I tell you more often that I love you than you tell me.”
“Keeping count?” I accused and cringed. “You’re right. You’re much better at this romantic stuff than I am.”
“You are more romantic than you think, watching old suspense movies with me, old mystery series, discussing great mystery authors, and coming upon mysteries for us to solve together. I never expected to find a woman who enjoyed solving a mystery as much as I do. We make a good pair, Pep, and I don’t want to lose that.”
“Neither do I,” I admitted.
“I’ve got to go.”
The sound of a large truck coming up the long driveway caught our attention.
“The old deck is being ripped down today,” I reminded. “How about I pick you up to go to talk with the reverend.”
“Great. Text me when you’re on your way.” He hurried to the door.
“Ian,” I called out, meaning to halt him in his tracks. He turned, a look of concern on his face. “I love you.”
He winked at me. “How could you not? I’m irresistible.”
I couldn’t help but laugh since it was the truth. He was completely irresistible, and it wasn’t his good looks that made him irresistible to me.
The construction crew got busy working. Mo sat at the French doors watching the men begin to tear the deck apart. He cast a glance at me now and again as if wanting to know what was going on.
“We’re getting a much-needed new and larger deck. You’re going to love it.” That seemed to pacify him, and he laid down and continued to watch the men.
Roxie, with her how-dare-you-disturb-me attitude, took herself off to the library to curl herself onto one of the comfy chairs and sleep.
I got busy on my prepper business, keeping my website current and working on material for my new podcast series that was growing fast. It’s easier for people to multitask when you can pop earphones in and listen to a podcast while doing other things, like writing the books I’m under contract to write.
Time flies by when you’re engrossed in work, and I was finishing up reading and responding to some emails before it was time to pick up Ian when I came across one from the local community college’s bulletins. I signed up to receive a notice on their lecture series and one lecture caught my eye.
READING PEOPLE LIKE AN OPEN BOOK presented by Professor Evan Swatcher.
Join us for an engaging and insightful lecture on the art of “Reading People Like An Open Book.” In this thought-provoking session, we will explore the fascinating world of non-verbal communication, uncovering the subtle cues that reveal volumes about an individual's thoughts, feelings, and intentions.
Delve into the secrets of body language, facial expressions, and vocal nuances as we decode the silent language that permeates every interaction. Whether you’re interested in enhancing your professional relationships, improving personal connections, or simply refining your observational skills, this lecture offers valuable insights and practical tools.
Led by Professor Evan Swatcher, this session promises an enriching journey of self-discovery and heightened awareness. Learn how to navigate social dynamics with greater ease, foster empathy, and gain a deeper understanding of the intricate ways in which humans communicate beyond words.
Don’t miss this opportunity to unlock the hidden chapters of human interaction. Join us for an exploration into the art and science of “Reading People Like An Open Book” and gain a new perspective on the profound language that connects us all.
I shot a quick text to Ian to see if he would be interested in attending the lecture with me and sent one to Amy to see if she and Beau would be interested as well. I had a feeling it would be a resounding yes and it was. I signed Ian and me up and Amy took care of her and Beau.
Once done, I sent Ian a text that I was on my way, and he was waiting outside the lodge for me. The man always managed to flutter my heart. It wasn’t his handsome features—okay, maybe a little—it was the way his gorgeous blue eyes lit up when he saw me, like he was always thrilled even if it had been just a short time since we had seen each other. And I couldn’t help but smile.
“Hi, gorgeous,” he said after getting in the truck and leaned across the console to kiss me.
Okay, maybe my heart flutters had something to do with his kisses as well. He truly was a genius at kissing.
“That lecture you suggested sounds interesting,” Ian said, settling in his seat and locking his seatbelt.
We discussed it on the way to the church, Ian glad to hear that Amy and Beau would be joining us.
The church sat at the edge of the oldest section of the cemetery where the mausoleums and aged headstones were located. The church wasn’t the original wood building that had been built with the inception of the town. The weather and age deteriorated it over the years and a lovely stone church replaced it, steeple and all. It went through several updates until a final modernized addition was added that did not distract from its age and beauty.
Reverend Herbert’s office was in the oldest part of the church, and I pulled into the small parking area there.
Some people believed that Millie, the reverend’s secretary, was there as long as the church, but that wasn’t possible. Besides, the woman looked younger than her seventy years.
“He’s waiting for you, Pepper,” Millie said, greeting us with a pleasant smile when Ian and I entered the office. “How is your mom? I intend to vote for her for mayor.”
“She is doing well, and she will be delighted to get your vote, Millie,” I said, people telling me the same nonstop, which had me believing my mom just might win the mayoral election. I cast a quick glance at Ian. “I don’t know if you have ever met?—”
“Your boyfriend, Ian Macgregor,” Millie said, extending her hand, “the handsome book cover model everyone is talking about. I have several books with you on the cover.”
Ian shook her hand, holding it a bit before letting go. I noticed he did that with women who would come up to him and request an autograph or just tell him how much they love his book covers. It was as if he was letting them know he appreciated the recognition. I also saw that no matter what age, it caused every woman to blush, something you don’t see often.
The door to the reverend’s office opened and a short, slim man with silver-colored hair and a gentle smile stepped out.
“Pepper, what mystery brings you to the church?” he asked with a chuckle.
I smiled. “A local one, Reverend.”
“Come in then and we will see if we can solve it,” Reverend Herbert offered, stepping aside for Ian and me to enter.
Ian introduced himself after the reverend closed the door.
“It is good to finally meet you, Ian. I was wondering when you might come and visit your uncle’s grave.”
“We did the other day, though an unfortunate incident delayed us some,” Ian said.
“A break-in to the Willow Mausoleum,” the reverend said, nodding. “I heard about it and thought it might have something to do with your visit today.”
I didn’t waste time in asking, “Who holds the deed to the Willow Mausoleum?”
“The church,” the reverend answered. “All records for the Willow Mausoleum remain with the church. They cannot even be accessed through the cemetery files. It was something Ignatius Willow had written into legal documents when he turned the mausoleum and land over to the church. All reverends who have served the parish have been made aware of it when assigned here.”
“One would think Ignatius Willow wanted a secret kept,” Ian said.
I loved that Ian often said what I intended to say or ask. We did think alike.
“It has been speculated,” the reverend said, “but rumors have a tendency to grow over the years, so it is difficult to say what reason the man had for keeping his family’s mausoleum records confined to the church.”
“Is it true he permanently sealed his daughter’s tomb never able to be opened again?” I asked.
“It is and you can see marks and chips on the marble where people tried to pry it open,” the reverend said.
“Then it is possible that there is something valuable buried with Verbena?” I asked.
“So, rumors say, but the only way of knowing that is to open the tomb and according to the documents signed between Ignatius and the church that can never happen,” the reverend explained.
Again, Ian asked the question I was just about to. “What if a relative of the Willow family agrees to it?”
“I’m afraid it would not matter since the church has been granted the rights to the mausoleum in perpetuity. Of course, if a family member, proven to be a descendant of the Willow family, wanted to gain access to the mausoleum, they would be granted permission. But the church has the final say in anything regarding the mausoleum.” Reverend Herbert leaned across from behind his desk where he sat. “I know what you are thinking, Pepper, but I cannot allow you to go snooping around in the mausoleum. It is a sacred resting place, and I will not have it disturbed. I will, however, grant you access to the documents so you can see for yourself what Ignatius Willow intended. But not today. Millie will arrange everything and call you with a convenient date and time.”
“That is generous of you, Reverend, and I appreciate it,” I said. “One other thing before we go. Has Damian Stone gotten in touch with you about the Willow Mausoleum?”
The reverend nodded. “He has and he claims to be a descendant of the Willow family, but he has no proof of it.”
“Wouldn’t it be difficult to establish a direct line to the Willow family when the three descendants are dead?” Ian asked. “How could a bloodline be matched to them?”
“That’s the problem. Ignatius kept excellent business records but not personal records. No correspondence with family or friends has been found between either he or his wife, Claire. They arrived in this area and established the town. The only thing known about them is that they were Irish immigrants.”
“Did Damain Stone say why he believed he was a descendent of the Willow family?” I asked.
“He told me it was known in his family, something passed down through generations that their origin was with the Willow family who had founded a town in Pennsylvania. But as I said, he has no proof, no documents, no DNA to prove it. There is a book, The History of Willow Lake, the Willow Lake Historical Society had published that might offer some insight.”
“I have it and it is somewhat helpful,” I said. “One more quick thing, Reverend and we will leave you to your duties. “Would you know if there is a secret passageway in the mausoleum?”
The reverend chuckled. “I have been asked that question more than I’d like to remember. I don’t know. I suppose anything is possible, but I have no knowledge if there is or isn’t one. However, I do believe the documents you will review include the original drawing for the mausoleum.”