Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
“I saw him,” a woman, her salt and pepper hair catching the sunlight, chimed from an adjacent table. Her voice carried a blend of nosiness and mischief. She, along with a group of women, had been sharing tales over coffee. “He’s a newcomer, and we’re all speculating about him.”
“Who’s we?” Daniel asked.
“Everyone in town. The name’s Edith, by the way. Edith Montgomery. I’ve lived here my whole life, and I’ve seen my fair share of secrets. I couldn’t help hearing you two while you talked.”
“Can you tell us anything about this man, Edith?” Olivia paused and pulled up a chair.
Edith took a sip of her coffee, apparently savoring the moment. “Though I have a hunch, I can’t say for certain if he is connected to the old Whispering Woods estate. You know, the place nobody has used for years?”
There was that word again. Whispering, although Olivia wasn’t familiar with the estate.
“What makes you think that, Edith?” she asked.
The woman smiled, clearly enjoying the attention. “Call it a feeling. The estate has a bit of a scandalous history. Supposedly, the original owner named Nathaniel Ashcroft, a successful investor before he faced financial ruin, had a secret love affair with a local girl. A girl from a wealthy and prominent family, if you know what I mean.”
“Do you think this man in the fedora is connected to the story?” Olivia asked.
Edith shrugged. “Like I said, it’s only a hunch. If you’re looking for answers about Lillian Beaumont’s past, I’d start by digging into the history of Whispering Woods. There might be more to that old estate than meets the eye.”
The woman indicated a group of retirees. “Every Sunday afternoon, we’re here. It’s half price day for seniors, and the retirement home shuttles us back and forth.”
Several women shared observations.
“We have lots of theories,” Edith said as Daniel tossed some bills on the table. “You know where to find us.”
“Sure thing.” Olivia acknowledged as she stood, darted between tables, and stepped outside.
“I can’t believe you didn’t see the fedora guy,” she muttered to Daniel as he walked beside her. “He was right there. Directly in front of us.”
“This again? You were facing the doorway. I was turned the other way, remember?” He pushed a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Ollie, but I missed him. Honestly, I’m taking this as seriously as you are.”
“Are you? Sometimes it seems like you’re just along for the ride, as if you’re not totally invested in finding out the truth.”
“That’s not true. I care about this mystery, about Lillian, about … about you. More than anything in this world.”
She searched his face, looking for any sign of insincerity, though all she found was a deep, unwavering devotion.
He pulled her close, his forehead resting against hers. “I’m beside you, every step of the way.”
She closed her eyes and allowed his authenticity to wash over her. The soft cadence of his words, his powerful embrace, and the earnestness in his voice instilled an assurance of safety and belonging.
No matter the twists and turns, they’d weather the storm together. Because that’s what love was—facing the unknown, hand in hand, and never letting go. And she was truly in love with him.
Their conversation circled back to the McAllister couple and their ambiguous warnings, plus the stealthy man in the fedora. And the new possibility—a man named Nathaniel.
“I keep thinking about what Mrs. McAllister said,” Olivia mused. “What do you think she meant?”
“I’m not sure. Although it’s clear, we need to be careful.”
Olivia nodded, recalling the enigmatic note on the back of Lillian’s black-and-white photograph in her diary.
“Secrets can be deadly,” she murmured, more to herself than to Daniel.
“What? What did you just say?”
“I forgot to tell you. When I was looking through Lillian's diary, I discovered a vintage snapshot wedged between the pages,” Olivia said. “On the back, someone wrote, ‘Secrets have consequences’ in red ink.
“What type of consequences? Could it tie into the mysterious man in the fedora, who seems to watch our every move?”
“Maybe. Or maybe Lillian wrote it. What does it mean for our investigation?”
“Okay, we need to talk to Lillian.” His voice lowered. “She needs to be aware of what we’ve discovered, and she might have answers for us. But Ollie, promise me you’ll be careful when I’m not around.”
“I am.”
“Are you? You operate your bookshop all alone.”
As they walked hand in hand through the streets of Sweetwater Springs, the shadows seemed to lengthen and twist.
Lost in conversation, she didn’t notice the lone figure walking toward them until she looked up. Stiffening, she grabbed Daniel’s arm. As the figure drew closer, a quiet exhale of relief tripped out. It was only Theodore, his blue eyes twinkling behind round spectacles.
“Olivia! Daniel! Lovely to see you both!” Theodore sported a baggy brown corduroy jacket, complete with a pocket square. His white hair was combed neatly to the side. “I’m headed out for my nightly constitutional. Care to join a seasoned citizen?”
Seasoned. Cute.
Daniel glanced at Olivia. “We can’t. We were discussing?—”
“The stranger. I overheard your conversation.” Nora appeared beside Theodore, smoothing her tweed skirt, a lightweight blazer draped over her shoulders. “I finished work early. The odd fellow lurking about—the one in the sleek suit and fedora. Yesterday, I spotted him leaving the room where important records are stored.”
Daniel shook his head, dazed. He looked as if someone had thrown a water balloon at him and missed. “Why would he be there?”
Nora pushed her slipping glasses up her nose. “I’m sure he had his reasons.”
If this stranger had accessed any records, what was he looking for? And did his actions connect to Lillian? Somewhere out there, perhaps, he was a silent guardian of the past, waiting to strike.
“He was at Pages and Aromas a few minutes ago.” Olivia looked around. Did he get swallowed up in the crowd of pedestrians who were out for a Sunday stroll? Or was he skulking out of sight around the corner?
With a casual flip of her hair, Nora averted her gaze. “Theodore and I were discussing him.”
Daniel eyeballed Theodore. “You saw him, too?”
“Yes. Yesterday, and only for an instant.” Theodore chuckled. “Certainly, a touch unconventional.”
Olivia’s conviction intensified. Did this man’s link to Lillian’s past hold true, or did his presence conceal an unexpected turn in the road? If both Theodore and Nora and the senior citizens had seen the stranger, then others likely had, too.
“What do you make of him, Theodore?” Olivia pressed, hoping to glean the poet’s impression.
Theodore fiddled with his bowtie, ensuring it sat perfectly. “I confess, the man intrigues me. He arrived the same day as the mysterious letter appeared. Or at least, that’s when everyone first saw him. And with a cigarette constantly in his grip?—”
“Do you think he penned the letter to Lillian?” Olivia asked.
“Why not?” Theodore’s eyes gleamed, suggesting a lifetime of wisdom. “Why, imagine! A silent admirer returns after years apart to declare himself to Lillian at last.”
While Theodore waxed poetic about everlasting romance, Daniel caught Olivia’s hand, interlacing their fingers. Again, she felt their own powerful connection. If this stranger had traveled miles to reunite with his long-lost love, then her relationship with Daniel buzzed with a quiet, newfound hope.
Nora coughed indiscreetly, breaking the moment. “As romantic as it sounds, let’s consider the matter of the fedora guy settled.”
Settled?
A shiver tiptoed along Olivia’s back. An unwelcome and questioning partner. The man provoked more intrigue than fear, though Nora had a point. Perhaps there was nothing else to it. Yet Olivia felt unseen eyes trained on their progress.
“Have you heard of a man named Nathaniel Ashcroft?” she asked Theodore.
“Unfortunately, yes. He was an older guy, rich, and he liked to hang out with the younger crowd. That was all of us—me and my classmates. Nathaniel preferred dating high school girls, although it was unseemly. He lost everything and moved out of town. Good riddance to him.”
In the quiet recesses of her mind, Olivia entertained the idea of Nathaniel and Lillian’s romantic history but opted to keep the inquiry tucked away unsaid.
Her gaze snagged on a flicker of motion. Half-obscured in the doorway of the library stood the stranger. His dark, piercing eyes met hers for a split second before he disappeared into the alley.
She clutched Daniel’s arm with both hands. “Did you see him?”
“Who?” Daniel followed her gaze and blinked.
“The guy in the fedora. Why do you always miss him?”
She let go and cinched her wool coat tighter, warding against the stubborn nip in the air. Strands of hair escaped her ponytail, tickling her neck like whispers in the wind.
Scanning the looming mountain backdrop, she expected to see storm clouds gathering. However, only shopkeepers swept porches, while two giggling toddlers clutched their ice cream cones, dripping trails marking their meandering route along the sidewalk.
Theodore reached into his pocket and yanked out a carved cedar box. “Care for a glimpse into the past?”
“A journey into history?” Daniel asked. “Now?”
“Why not? Window shopping in a bygone era while we walk. Nothing can compare. Old stories have a way of breathing life into the present.” Theodore opened the box to unveil a collection of antique postcards, each bearing a unique snapshot of the town. The faded images captured moments suspended in time. Slid among the postcards was a bundle of meticulously tied parchment, each sheet covered with handwritten poems. “Poetry, my friends, is the true soul of life.”
He selected a postcard showcasing a vintage scene—cobblestone streets with Model T Fords parked beside the curb. As they continued, he recited verses, echoing the sentiments of the postcard scenes.
The four of us, Olivia reflected, marching along as if we were bound for Oz. Perhaps the ordinary might unveil the extraordinary, or, at the very least, an answer.
“In each locale, a tale unfurled, a poetic symphony that spanned the world,” Theodore went on. “With every step, my words took flight, turning a simple promenade into a lyrical delight.”
“All well and good, Theodore, and your poems are clever. But where, exactly, are we headed?” Nora asked.
Oz, Olivia thought. She bent the collar of her jacket higher, and then her fingers found Daniel’s.
He lowered his head, his breath skimming her hair. “Are you shivering?”
“It’s cold.”
“And you’re nervous.”
“Yes, a little.”
“Stop worrying. I’m here for you.”
She offered a brave smile. Nonetheless, questions nagged. What did the stranger want? Why did he keep appearing? And most importantly, was he the man who wrote the letter?
“He couldn’t have gone far,” she said. “We can try to find him.”
Nora hesitated. “You all go on. After my shift at the library, I’m exhausted.”
“Nonsense.” Theodore tucked the box of postcards back in his pocket. “Come. I insist.” He indicated that he and Nora would walk ahead. “Let’s speed up before the guy gets away from us.”
Further on, the alley narrowed. Cement walls were covered in years of graffiti scratches and old bubblegum. The area desperately begged for a thorough cleaning and a fresh coat of paint.
Olivia groped her way. A crumpled flyer stirred in a slight breeze.
As they ventured deeper into the alley, the air grew thick with the pungent odor of decay and neglect. The narrow passage was a world away from the quaint charm of Sweetwater Springs’ main street, a forgotten corner where the town’s secrets seemed to fester and grow.
Olivia’s footsteps echoed on the damp pavement, mingling with the distant drip of a leaky pipe and the skittering of unseen creatures in the shadows. The walls loomed on either side, their once-vibrant brick mottled with grime and graffiti, a patchwork of faded colors and illegible scrawls.
A chill wind whipped through the alley, carrying with it the acrid tang of cigarette smoke and the sickly sweet stench of rotting garbage. Olivia shivered as she navigated the uneven terrain, her shoes crunching on scattered litter and broken glass.
Overhead, a sliver of gray sky peeked through the gap between the buildings, casting a wan, diffuse light. The metal stairs of the rusty fire escapes creaked and groaned in the breeze.
As they pressed on, the alley narrowed, the walls drawing closer as Olivia’s senses went on high alert.
She scanned the gloom for any sign of the mysterious man in the fedora.
Beside her, Daniel acted as a source of support, his hand unwavering on the small of her back. She detected the tension in his body, the coiled readiness of a man prepared for anything. Together, they forged ahead, their footsteps a determined rhythm against the eerie stillness.
“No sight of him yet,” Daniel muttered.
Nora slowed, then stepped behind them.
“Don’t dawdle!” Theodore sang out at the end of the alley.
With Daniel’s steadying presence, Olivia ventured past stacks of wooden crates and garbage bins.
Dimness sprawled ahead, concealing the stranger’s retreat. Where was he headed? And what awaited them around the next bend?
As they exited, Theodore veered off, and Olivia, Daniel, and Nora continued walking.