memories. Would stirring them up do any good or only open old wounds?
CHAPTER THREE
IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON by the time Eliza turned onto the once-familiar white crushed-shell driveway at the house on Poppin Hill. Visiting the place had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Once it was made, it hadn’t taken her long to drive from the motel where she’d checked in. Every mile had been crowded with memories.
Driving down Main Street, she’d seen the courthouse where she and April had been taken for questioning the morning after Jo had spun her outlandish story. And where Sheriff Halstead had interrogated her about Cade’s sister, Chelsea Bennett, only hours later.
The old theater was still in business on the next block, a new Disney film showing. No multi-theater complexes for Maraville.
The five-and-dime was gone. A video store flourished in its place. Looking down Center Street, she’d caught a glimpse of the old brick high school. Memories swept through her at the familiar sights and sounds.
The sultry weather zapped her energy. She should have changed into something more suitable for Mississippi in late April than the sophisticated suit that had been perfect for Boston, but she’d been too impatient to take the time to change once she’d checked into the motel. She’d wanted to see the house. Not stay in it. Not spend a lot of time there, but see it.
The crushed shells crunched beneath the tires as she drove the short distance up the hill to the back of the house. Huge oaks lined the winding drive, leaves drooping in the afternoon heat. The familiar gray Spanish moss dripped from the branches in ghostly decoration.
A battered pickup truck and a sleek sedan were parked at the top of the hill, bumpers almost touching the detached garage.
She pulled her rental car in beside the truck and stopped, staring at the house. Little had changed. She could almost imagine Maddie coming to the back steps to yell at her for being late. Or see Jo sneaking off behind Maddie’s back.
The house had been painted in the intervening years. The curtains replaced. The Victorian architecture still looked out of place in a state more used to antebellum homes along the river. Yet its familiarity tugged. A mingling of delight and sorrow filled Eliza. She took a breath. Could she go in?
The sloping yard was a riot of colors. Flowers grew haphazardly in beds adjacent to the house, around the old oak that shaded the front lawn and in scattered sections along the edges of the grass.
Maddie’s doing, Eliza knew. Maddie had always loved beautiful flowers.
After her second visit to see Maddie, the doctor had told Eliza he’d have the hospital call her cell phone immediately if there was any change in Maddie’s condition—either way—and he’d urged her to go get some rest. But the sheriff’s question had niggled at her, and she had to finally admit she was anxious to visit the house on Poppin Hill, her home for twelve years.
Eliza climbed from the car and headed for the back door. It stood open, the screen door standing guard against insects. Obviously the owners of the vehicles were inside.
She stepped in and listened, her eyes scanning the room. The linoleum flooring was worn and faded, having been installed long before she’d first arrived.
The counters were still narrow—never providing enough room when preparing meals for four. The refrigerator looked newer than she remembered, as did the range. But the cabinets needed to be painted. And the window over the sink still looked as if it couldn’t be budged. She would have expected Maddie to have had that fixed.
It was a huge old house and must have taken an enormous amount of upkeep. No money for extras— that had always been a problem when Eliza had lived here.
The sound of angry masculine voices came from the front of the house. Hesitating only a moment, Eliza headed in that direction.
“Hello?” she called. As she walked through the dining room, memories assailed her. The faded wallpaper hadn’t been changed, the rose pattern ancient even years ago. The huge table was surrounded by a dozen chairs. They’d eaten every dinner there, and often had guests on Sunday.
Maddie had done her best to teach the girls manners, from the proper fork to use to how to converse with visitors.
The voices grew silent. Eliza continued toward the living room. She stopped in the wide doorway. Two men turned to look at her.
She only glanced at the man on the left before her eyes latched on to the one person in the world she’d never thought to see again.
Cade Bennett.
She shivered and stepped back, remembering the hateful words he’d flung at her the last time she’d seen him. He had blamed her for his sister’s death. Nothing Eliza had said had made a difference. He had called her a liar and, worse, a murderer. He’d been upset, but there had been a kernel of truth in his accusations. Eliza had been the one to tell Chelsea her boyfriend was seeing someone else. Eliza had known Cade’s sister was unstable, but she’d done it out of spite for the hateful things Chelsea had said to her. That didn’t excuse her, Eliza knew, and she still carried a certain amount of guilt even after all these years. It had also made her very careful about what she said to others.
The older man spoke. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
She looked at him, recognizing the town banker, Allen McLennon. He had aged over the years, but was still a fine-looking man. He’d been dating Maddie the last Eliza had seen him. When Maddie had been accused of abusing her charges, had he stopped seeing her? Maddie had never mentioned him in any of her letters. Eliza hadn’t thought about him in all these years. She’d have to ask Maddie what had happened, when she was better.
“I’m Eliza Shaw. I used to live here. I’m in town for a few days and came by to see the place.” Much as she wanted to focus on the banker, her eyes were drawn back to Cade.
He was as tall as she remembered, lean and muscular. He wore faded jeans, work boots and an attitude that didn’t quit. The chambray shirt emphasized the width of his shoulders. His dark hair was worn a little long and looked thick and wavy. Dark eyes clearly displayed the anger that simmered. Twelve years hadn’t softened him at all, it seemed. If anything, he looked harder than ever.
Eliza felt a shiver of trepidation. Tilting her head slightly, she glared at him. She was not some sixteen-year-old anymore, needing approval and acceptance. If he couldn’t handle her being here, that was his problem, not hers.
“Vultures circling the kill?” Cade suggested.
Eliza’s temper flared, but the intervening years had taught her well. She kept it under control.
“I came as soon as I learned about Maddie. I’ve already been to see her. What’s going on here?” She glanced around at the old living room, wondering what the two men were doing.
It was Allen who answered. “The bank has a loan against the property which is in arrears. Cade and I were discussing the next step. Just because you once lived here doesn’t give you any rights. This meeting is private.”
“What’s it about?” Eliza asked.
“Foreclosure and sale of the property,” Cade replied. “Which I will fight in every way possible.” He glared at Allen McLennon.
“You can’t sell Maddie’s house,” Eliza protested. “She needs it to come back to when she’s out of the hospital.”
“Allen’s the one talking about selling,” Cade said. “I’m trying to talk some sense into the man.”
The two men glanced at each other. Eliza’s suspicions rose. “What’s the real issue?”
“The bank holds a note,” Allen explained tersely. “Maddie took out a loan and put the house up as collateral. If the note isn’t paid up, we have no choice but to force a sale to recoup our loss. Cade is interested in buying the property. However, there are other companies making offers. I suggest