Page 24 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
“Your great-grandmother was Wilhelmina Fairweather,” her father said, his laughter quieting when Simone gave hima lookthat meant he needed to get control of himself. “Haven House might be a legend in your family, Agent Anderson, but your great-grandmother is a legend in ours. The story, as I know it, is that she ran off with her doctor, and the pair supposedly killed her father during their escape. Shot him on the curve of the forest trail and then buried him in the family graveyard.”
Jamison shivered. She knew exactly the spot he meant. The place had always given her the creeps, and whenever she passed it during a jog or while walking the paths, she used the unease everyone often felt as an incentive to move faster.
“Of course, there would be another murderer in your family tree,” Liam teased with an exaggerated whisper. “What’s one more at this point?”
“Well, I don’t know about her being a murderer. The story we’ve heard went a little differently, but we’ve also heard of things like the conservatory,” Agent Anderson said. “I was hoping to snap a photo for my brother. He’s been obsessed with genealogy stuff, even more so since retiring, and would love to see it.”
Ever the hostess, Simone gestured back down the hall. “Would you like to see it now?”
“Ah, thank you, but no. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us, so I’ll grab one next time.”
Will escorted Anderson out to his car, leaving the four of them to watch as they maneuvered through the gauntlet of agents spread out on the lawn.
“That’s the last of them?” Simone asked through a clenched smile, waving at the agents staring back at them. “Anderson is the last of them inside the house?”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Liam glanced back over his shoulder. “It’s just family inside now.”
Simone closed the new heavy front door, the clicks and whirls of it arming itself mixing with the sigh of relief that left her once it shut. “Thank God.”
She kicked off her shoes right there in the hall. One pump. Then the other. They flipped and landed near the entryway table, the move being the most non-Simone thing Jamison had ever witnessed.
“Are you okay?” she asked, a little stunned.
Simone waved her off. “I want to change my clothes and take a nap.” She gave Jamison her back and slid off her cardigan. “Unhook the top button of this dress for me.”
Per Liam’s request, they were wearing clothes that would remind Toby of the past and not the present. Her father was in a navy blue dress shirt and dark khaki slacks—his idea of casual—while Simone had chosen an old emerald green sheath dress she hadn’t worn since the nineties.
Evie chose a purple blouse because she supposedly had always dressed in purple as a kid. For Jamison, it hadn’t been so simple. She had been a baby when Toby left, so Liam had the idea of dressing her in her mother’s clothes. There were trunks full of Laura Jean’s things in the attic, but Simone also had a few pieces tucked away in her closet and pulled out a simple white tank top and green gingham broom skirt for her to wear.
“It’s not even noon yet.” Her dad watched Simone warily. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m old, Benjamin.” Simone smacked his arm with her cardigan. “As are you, you know?”
“Not old enough to nap before lunchtime.”
Simone rolled her eyes and walked barefoot down the hall. “I’ll be in my room.”
“She’s not sleeping at night,” Jamison told her father once she was sure Simone was gone. “None of us are, but it’s hitting her hardest.”
“Yeah. I hear her shuffling around in the kitchen. She won’t take anything to help her relax, so I don’t even bother bringing it up, but something’s got to give.”
“My mom hears her, too,” Liam said. “I’ll ask her to talk to Simone. Maybe she’ll listen.”
Simone trusted Bernie. They were both survivors in their own way, and Simone had learned to lean on Bernie for support every so often, but none more than now.
Her father smirked at Liam. “That’s pretty smart.”
Liam shrugged. “I have my moments.”
“What?” Jamison glanced between them. “What’s smart?”
Her dad clapped Liam on the shoulder. “He’ll tell you.”
“Hey, hey, hey!” The front door opened, and Taylor stuck her head inside the foyer. “Are you all finished?”
Everyone fixed smiles on their faces. Jamison was well aware she would have to be nice to this woman for the rest of her life. Taylor had come through and saved all their asses by calling the police that night, and while Jamison still didn’t care for the way she threw herself at her father, she was going to have to get over it.
“Yeah, we’re done.” Her father gestured for Taylor to come inside. “But our conference call with Johnson isn’t until this afternoon. What are you doing here?”
