My Immortal (Seven Deadly Sins #1)(23)
Author: Erin McCarthy

"Sure."

In another minute, she had the shorts on over the bikini bottoms, and had her feet in her sandals, which had been lying on the floor by the bed. She really couldn’t get out of there fast enough, despite the queasiness in her stomach. They were in the hall heading for the back stairs when Marley realized the keys to the rental car were in the raincoat.

"Shit. Have you seen a coat, tan, a trench-shaped raincoat? I think it got left in the foyer."

Rosa shrugged. "I don’t know. But we can go that way." She turned and headed down the long hallway toward the main stairways.

"This house is huge," Marley whispered, awed in spite of her need to escape her humiliation.

"It’s big moldy pile of bricks. I don’t know why Damien hangs on to it."

Marley was a little astonished at that kind of attitude. This house breathed history. It had been in Damien’s family for centuries. She caught sight of Marie du Bourg’s portrait on the wall. The same sorrow reached out to her, just like it had the night before. That hadn’t been a drug-induced hallucination. Marie’s eyes had called to her, pleaded.

Remembering the letter in her purse, the printed e-mail from Lizzie, Marley slowed down. "What do you know about Marie du Bourg?" she asked Rosa, pointing to the portrait.

Rosa stopped. "Damien’s wife? She came from France, a fragile French flower, got her portrait painted, then died."

Marley was startled by the disdain in Rosa’s voice. "That’s it?"

"That’s it. But if you really want to know more about Marie, or anything else about this place, you need to ask Anna. She is about a million years old and knows everyone and everything that has ever happened here."

"Really? Where can I see her?" Marley should let it go, but she wanted to know, hear all there was to hear.

She also needed to e-mail Damien the letter from Marie. He had done his part to find Lizzie, and she couldn’t ask for any more than that. The letter did belong to his family and he was entitled to see it. Fortunately she had his e-mail address from the other day when they’d had lunch together and he’d given her his card. There was no reason to subject herself to a face-to-face encounter.

"Anna lives in a crappy little house that used to be the overseer’s place. I can point you in the right direction. It’s a ten-minute walk from here. Anna loves to get visitors. And she has such an eagle eye it’s possible she might have noticed your sister. She watches everything that goes on here. Binoculars."

"Really?" So there was no chance of pretending she wasn’t a party guest if this woman had watched her arrive the night before. That was somewhat embarrassing, but since the whole week was a series of uncomfortable moments, Marley was willing to risk one more to gain any information about Lizzie. "Great."

She followed Rosa down the stairs and into the foyer. There was no one around, the house hushed except for the distant sound of a vacuum. "Damien?" she asked Rosa, tilting her head toward the sound.

But Rosa snorted. "Damien running the sweeper? That would be the day. There’s a cleaning crew here picking up after last night."

"Oh, of course." Duh, Marley, she told herself. Like rich people needed to vacuum their own mansions. Her raincoat was still sitting on the Louis XIV chair, and a quick check revealed the keys still in the pocket.

She jingled them. "I’m ready. Do we drive to Anna’s or walk?"

"Walk. Do you want to say anything to Damien before we go? We could pop in to the pigeonnier."

What could she say? Apologize for throwing herself at him? "No." Just the thought of seeing Damien made her cheeks go hot. "I have nothing to say to him."

Rosa abandoned Marley twenty feet from the house. "She’ll be on the porch. That’s where she always is. See ya."

"You’re not going with me?"

"Nope. I have to get my nails done."

And Rosa bolted back the way they’d come.

Marley stared at the weather-worn house and gathered some courage. She was in desperate need of a shower, hot from the hike over through the tall grass and humidity, wearing Damien’s T-shirt and basketball shorts, which, horrifyingly, were a little snug in the waist. She didn’t need a mirror to know that her hair was snarled and sticking out in six directions, and she would lay down cash that she had a couple of big old dark circles under her eyes. Hopefully the old lady had cataracts, because Marley was probably downright scary.

But since she couldn’t fix that, she’d just forge ahead.

When she came around the corner of the house, the woman was sitting on the porch, like Rosa had said. She looked old, petite, her body enveloped in a pink knit top and shorts, her feet tucked into crisp white sneakers.

"Good morning," Marley said, smiling as she went up the walk. She stopped at the bottom of the steps. "My name is Marley Turner. Rosa said you wouldn’t mind speaking to me a bit about the history of the plantation. Am I interrupting you?"

"Come on up here, child. Have a seat. The only thing you’re interrupting is me waiting to die, and most days that’s damn boring."

Marley laughed at the wry humor in the woman’s voice. She went up the stairs and sat gingerly in the rocker next to Anna. She put her hand out. "Marley Turner."

"Anna." She shook Marley’s hand very delicately. "And you’re a Yankee."

"Probably. I’m from Cincinnati."

"What brings you to this old place? You don’t look like the usual type we see round here."

Marley was going to try not to read anything into that, positive or negative. "I’m looking for my sister. Lizzie Turner. She was here early in the summer, at one of Damien’s parties."

Anna nodded. "She young?"

"Twenty-four."

"These young ones, they don’t understand what they’re getting themselves into. It’s fun and exciting for a while. Then it’s not, and they’re alone."

"Rosa said maybe you had seen Lizzie. That you know what’s going on at the big house."

Anna gave a laugh, her hands folded in her lap. "Rosa gives me too much credit. I see things, sure, but just people coming and going. The past is more my expertise, not the present. I don’t leave this old porch very often."

Marley felt tears in her eyes without warning. "So you wouldn’t recognize my sister?"

"No, child. I’m sorry." Anna patted her hand. "But she’ll turn up."

Wiping at her eyes, Marley tried to get control of her emotions. She felt like ice, slowly cracking from the edges in, the split racing faster and faster into her center. "I hope so." Taking a deep breath, she quickly spoke again before she totally lost it. "I also wanted to ask you about Marie du Bourg. What happened to her?"