Secrets Never Told Read online

  “How are you today?” he asked her as he leaned over to kiss the top of her silver head.

  She looked at him with her large dark eyes, but he knew she had no idea who he was.

  “I brought you something.” He reached in his pocket and handed her a small box. “Here, I’ll take it out for you.” He pulled out a necklace, a sterling silver dragonfly on a chain. “You always liked dragonflies, didn’t you?” He didn’t expect her to answer.

  After putting the necklace around her neck, Boogie fastened the clasp. Since the patients weren’t allowed to wear jewelry for fear of other patients stealing it, he’d have to remember to tell the nurse. He was pretty sure they’d make an exception for Miss Lillian. “That looks good on you.”

  Lillian’s expression rarely changed. She always seemed to have a slight smile on her face, like she knew something no one else did. The doctor assured Boogie that Alzheimer’s patients didn’t suffer from the knowledge of their illness. They were oblivious to their condition, unlike their loved ones who suffered as they watched the people they love slip into another world.

  For the next hour, Boogie sat in the rocker and read poetry to Lillian. He wasn’t particularly fond of poems, and she had not been either, as least not that he could remember. But it seemed fitting when he was with her. He avoided overly sad verses, instead focusing on poems about hope, love, and gratitude.

  Boogie looked up from the book in his hands. “I’m grateful for having known you. Do you know that?” He had once asked Lillian’s doctor if she could understand what he said to her. The doctor replied that no one knew for sure, but it couldn’t hurt to keep talking to Lillian. Boogie had convinced himself that she was trapped inside the shell that was once his beloved wife. He was pretty sure Lillian knew exactly what he was saying but just couldn’t respond.

  Boogie regretted he had made his wife live in the shadows all those years. She deserved better than that, but if she resented him for forcing her to keep their marriage secret, she never showed it. Decades ago, mixed-race marriages were not welcomed, even though the Loving v. Virginia Supreme Court case in 1967 had removed all legal barriers. Boogie had just been elected sheriff, and at the time, the good citizens of Bowman County were not ready to accept Lillian into that prominent position.

  By the time social mores changed, Boogie and Lillian continued to keep their secret. Otherwise, he would have had to admit lying to the people who elected him. Boogie was willing to take that chance, but it was Lillian who insisted they continue the lie. She told him that no law could force society to accept what they weren’t ready for, and Bowman County wasn’t ready for their sheriff to be married to a black woman.

  Even now, the lone picture on her nightstand didn’t include him. He could have put one there that included both of them, but old ways die hard. Instead, the picture Lillian saw each day was of her and a young woman. The family resemblance was evident, but the young woman’s skin was much lighter than Lillian’s. Boogie picked up the framed photo and held it for a few minutes. “Two beautiful women,” he said to Lillian. For a brief moment, her eyes shifted to the photo and a flicker of cognizance lit up her brown eyes, then died again.

  Boogie put the picture back on her nightstand. “I’ll see you in a few days. I found this new book of poems I want to read to you. I think you’ll like it.” He kissed the top of her head again and left Lillian in her own world.

  CHAPTER 24

  When Enid answered her cell phone, she was surprised when the caller identified herself as Miss Murray from the Madden Historical Society.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Miss Murray said.

  Enid glanced at the clock on the wall of her office. Her deadline was an hour away. “No, of course not. How can I help you?”

  “Are you aware that the Cherokee, Catawba, Pee Dee, Chicora, Edisto, Santee, Yamassee, and Chicora-Waccamaw and other tribes are all still present in South Carolina? At least twenty-nine distinct groups of indigenous people lived within South Carolina at one time.”

  Enid glanced at the clock again. “That’s very interesting. I’ll do a little research and perhaps write an article.”

  “Thanks, dear, I agree it’s an interesting story. But that’s not why I called. I had a visit today from Karla Burke. She’s a descendant of the Cherokee tribe, and a resident of Bowman County. On more than one occasion, she’s helped me with research on tribal history.”

  Enid tapped her pen on the desk nervously. “I’ll be glad to interview her as well. Can I drop in to see you in about an hour? I’m sorry, but I need to finish this article.”

  If Miss Murray was offended, nothing was reflected in her voice. “Of course, dear. But I think you’ll want to hear this. Karla has some information that you will at least find intriguing. You can decide if it’s credible.”

  Enid hung up and turned her attention to the soon-to-be-late article on one of Madden’s finest citizens whose grandson had been accepted at the Citadel on a full scholarship. But Enid’s mind was on Miss Murray’s call. Once the article was finished, Enid uploaded it for Jack to review. She grabbed her tote and told Ginger she would be out for a while.

  Enid nearly ran to the Madden Historical Society building just down the street. When Roscoe answered the door, she was slightly out of breath. “I have an appointment with Miss Murray.”

  Roscoe beamed. “Of course you do. She told me you were coming.”

  But Enid was already halfway down the hallway before he finished. “Thanks,” she called over her shoulder. She knocked on the door. There was no answer and no sound, so she knocked again. “Miss Murray, it’s Enid Blackwell. Are you there?” This time she heard the unmistakable sound of a spoon clinking on china. Miss Murray was having tea.

  “Do come on in. We’re waiting on you.”

  Enid opened the door, unsure who “we” meant. Miss Murray was sitting at the small round table where she served tea. Across from her was a beautiful dark-skinned woman with short, black hair, stylishly cut. The woman smiled and nodded a greeting to Enid. Miss Murray had set a third tea cup at the table, so Enid sat in the empty chair.

  Miss Murray gestured toward the other woman. “Enid Blackwell, I’d like for you to meet Karla Burke.”

  Enid offered her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.” She turned to Miss Murray. “I didn’t realize Karla was already here when you called earlier.” She turned to Karla. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

  “I’ve enjoyed talking with Miss Murray,” Karla said.

  Miss Murray poured Enid a cup of tea. “As I said, Karla is Native American.”

  Karla smiled at Enid. “You may be thinking that Karla Burke doesn’t sound much like an indigenous name.” She didn’t wait for Enid to reply. “You see, my ancestry is Cherokee, and many years ago, my family’s name was Ko Tut Tih Nih. In the early 1800s, most of our tribal members were required to adopt European surnames, like Smith, Johnson, Burke, and so on. The ministers who converted, or tried to convert, our people to Christianity often picked the new Anglo family names. The minister in my family’s area gave them the name Burke, after his relatives in Scotland.”

  “That’s very interesting,” Enid said. “Thanks for explaining it.”

  Karla nodded and glanced again at Miss Murray.

  “Go on, Karla, tell Enid what you told me.”

  Karla seemed to be studying Enid’s face before she spoke. “Have you ever heard of the Black Warriors, or perhaps of Spiritual Warriors?”

  “No, I can’t say that I have. Why?”

  “These are people whose purpose is to seek the truth, to bring the truth from the darkness to the light, for all to see.”

  Enid nodded, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a Native American belief?”

  Karla laughed. “No, actually it’s not. But we have similar ideas.”

  “What does this have to do with me?”

  Miss Murray spoke up. “It’s not just you, dear. It’s also the people who are around you.”
/>   “Is this some kind of warning?” Enid asked.

  Karla reached out for Enid’s hand and held it with both of hers. “Oh, no. Just the opposite. You, Jack, Josh, and Cade are all warriors looking for the truth.”

  Enid gently withdrew her hand from Karla’s grasp. “Considering that Jack, Cade, and I are reporters and Josh is a police chief, it’s reasonable to expect we’re all looking for the truth.”

  “I know this all sounds strange to you, but I’m not trying to play with your head.”

  “Then why are you telling me about black warriors?” Enid asked. “And how do you even know about Josh, Jack, and Cade?” When Karla remained silent, Enid mulled over several excuses to leave. She glanced at the time on her phone. “I really need to go, unless you have something further for me.”

  “Please don’t be upset,” Miss Murray said. “It was my idea to have Karla meet with you. She’s an intuitive.”

  Enid looked back and forth between Miss Murray and Karla. “A psychic, in other words.” She reached down for her leather tote.

  “No, I’m not a psychic,” Karla said. “I can’t tell you what’s going to happen, or even if anything unusual will happen. But I keep having dreams about the four of you. The fact that it’s four warriors is significant. As you probably know from Josh, four is meaningful to Native Americans. There are four directions, and we believe there are four dimensions, not three, if you include time. Also, there are four seasons and four stages of life. I could go on.” She paused. “Look, I know all this must sound crazy to you. I knew about you from your previous reporting on the two cases you solved.”

  “I didn’t solve them alone. I was simply the reporter.”

  “I appreciate your modesty, but without you, those cases would not have been solved,” Karla said. “When I began having these dreams, the other three warriors were presented to me. And I sensed that I needed to meet with you. I talked to Miss Murray, and she called you.” Karla paused to smile. “There’s no ulterior motive, and I don’t mean to alarm you. Quite the opposite. In my dreams, you were filled with doubt about your role on this earth. My spirit guide instructed me to assure you that you are doing what you are supposed to do, along with the other warriors on your team.”

  Enid sat silently, trying to make sense of Karla’s comments.

  “You don’t have to worry about Josh. I don’t know all the details, only that you are worried about him. He is strong and wise. Trust in him.”

  Enid stood up. “I have to go now. Thank you for meeting with me. I need to think about all you’ve said. How can I reach you if I need to?”

  Karla and Miss Murray exchanged glances again, and Miss Murray spoke. “Just let me know. I’ll be glad to connect you again.”

  ☐ ☐ ☐

  By the time Enid got to bed, she had rationalized Karla’s comments as both meaningless and harmless, and a bit kooky. Yet, she tossed and turned, unable to get the conversation out of her mind. She glanced at the clock. It was after eleven o’clock. Jack would still be up, sitting in his favorite chair and reading. She reached for her phone but then stopped herself.

  After a few more minutes of tossing and managing to pull the fitted sheet off the end of the mattress, she reached for her cell phone and called Jack.

  When he answered quickly, she was surprised. “Hey, I was just sitting here thinking about you,” he said.

  “Why is that?”

  “I don’t know. You were just on my mind. What’s up?”

  “Now I’m feeling a bit foolish. I just couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to call Josh. He’s got enough on his mind.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me what’s bothering you,” Jack said.

  Enid told him about meeting Karla at Miss Murray’s office. “It’s all baloney, right?”

  “First, let me ask you why her comments were disturbing to you. You talk to people all the time and shake off anything they say that you don’t believe. Your instincts are what make you a great reporter. Although, I admit, these comments were more personal, so I’m not surprised it’s rattled you a bit.”

  “Do you think there’s anything to what she was saying?” Enid asked.

  “I think your response to her was spot on. With the nature of our jobs, we are warriors in a sense, each in our own way.”

  “But do you think we were destined, all four of us, to work together?”

  After a long pause, Jack replied, “Yes, I do think so. I’ve thought about this before. After all, Cade and I knew each other before I met you. Then you came to Madden, and you and I work closely together. And now, Josh is . . .” Jack’s voice trailed off.

  “So what does this all mean?”

  “It means I’m one damn lucky guy to be on your warrior team. And I think that Karla lady was right that you need to accept your role and quit fretting about it.” He paused. “The only thing I worry about is that one day, you’re going to move on without any of us. In a sense, you’re the queen warrior, and we are along for the ride.” Before Enid could reply, he added. “Now I need to get some sleep, and you do, too.”

  CHAPTER 25

  The next morning, Enid arrived at the office early. She had slept well and awakened refreshed after pushing the previous day’s conversations out of her mind. What she did have on her mind, however, was her conversation with Rachel about Boogie’s marriage to the woman who used to manage the inn.

  Enid walked next door to Jack’s office. He was drinking coffee and studying the paper’s next edition on his screen. “Are you busy?” she asked.

  He took off his reading glasses. “Never too busy for you. What’s up?”

  “When you took over the inn, what happened to all the old paperwork? Is it still in the attic there, or did you get rid of it?”

  “I cleaned out all the old paperwork from the inn. It was a fire waiting to happen in that old house.”

  Enid’s shoulders slumped. “Oh. Well, thanks.”

  Jack grinned. “But I kept all of it. It’s in storage at my house.”

  Enid’s face lit up. “Really? That’s great. Do you mind if I go through it? I’m going to see if I can find anything about a woman who ran the inn for a while.”

  “Is this just gossipy interest, or do you think there’s some connection to the bones found?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea yet. I won’t waste a lot of time on it, if that’s what you’re worried about. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

  “You could just ask Boogie, you know.”

  Enid laughed. “Sure, take the easy route.”

  Jack pulled a key from his key ring and gave it to Enid. “Everything I got from the inn is in the storage area in the back of the barn. Just be careful. Last time I was in there, the field mice were scampering around. And there’s a copperhead that shows up occasionally.”

  Enid shuddered. “Ugh. Thanks for the warning.”

  ◆◆◆

  The barn smelled like barns should: fresh but earthy. The horses were in the pasture, so Enid had the place to herself. At least she hoped she was alone, after Jack’s warning. She unlocked the padlock on the heavy steel door and pushed it to the side along the overhead track.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the storage area. She had been expecting a disorganized mess of boxes on a straw-strewn floor. Instead, the storage area had a clean concrete deck and sturdy metal shelving. At this time of the year, it wasn’t hot, but it would have been unbearably warm in the summer months, as there were no fans to cool it or windows to open.

  A small wooden table and a red painted stool sat in the corner of the space. She put her tote on the floor beside the table and pulled out her notepad and pen, an optimistic gesture, with hopes she would find something worth noting in the old paperwork.

  All the containers were fairly new banker boxes, the kind you get from the office supply store and put together yourself. The uniformity of the boxes made the space look neat but also eliminated any way of distinguishing new paperwork from older content
, as none of the boxes were labeled. Enid sighed and started peeking inside the boxes for a clue of where to start. The first couple of boxes looked like invoices for food, supplies, landscaping services, and other expenses for maintaining the inn. So far, at least, the contents were consistent as to topic and not mixed up, which would have been a nightmare to go through.

  The next couple of boxes she looked at contained old guest registers, some dating back to 1920. Enid made a note to talk to Jack about donating those to the Madden Historical Society for preservation.

  Instead of going methodically across the shelves, she looked at the bottom of the next shelf. As she pulled the box out, she noticed where mice had chewed into the cardboard. Pushing the thought of critters out of her head, she pulled out the box and examined the contents. “Yes!” she yelled out loud. The box contained old employment records for the inn’s staff.

  She took the box over to the small table and carefully removed the contents. Much of it was in order, date-wise, but some of it had been randomly thrown in the box.

  After nearly an hour, she had the contents stacked in chronological order. There were several gaps in time, so she began looking at other nearby boxes for more employment records. After looking at all the boxes on the bottom row, she began looking at the next rows up. Finding nothing more on employment records, she sat at the table to go through what she had.

  Based on the information Rachel had given her, Enid looked for documents from at least thirty years ago. She guessed Boogie to be in his late sixties at least. Having separated the files in this timeframe, she put the other files aside to clear the small table. Unfortunately, the records were often only a couple of lines: name, address—or at least a town, and a record of wages paid. No photos or other ways of identifying the workers. The records didn’t even show the workers’ job responsibilities. If the woman Boogie allegedly had an affair with had managed the inn, she would likely have made more money than someone who was kitchen help. Then again, it was likely that none of them were paid enough for their hard work.