Buried Passions Page 10

  “Jonah,” Emma called a bit later, over the hum of the engine and the talk of people working.

  I hurried to where she knelt on the ground, clearing the last of the vines and dirt from one of the stones. We had uncovered dozens of them, with some needing repairs but most simply requiring the removal of debris from on top.

  “Look,” she said, pointing at a plain stone etched with the name Quinton Alders. The date of death was 1810.

  “Yes?” I wasn’t sure what was so important. I had to be missing something.

  Emma stared at me for a second, and I felt like a kid who had just been asked a question he didn’t know the answer to. “This section has a lot of old graves. I think we’ve come up with six men who fought in the Revolution. There have always been rumors that a signer of the Declaration was buried here in Carlisle, but no one has ever found any indication.” She patted the top of the stone. “This is it. He signed the Declaration of Independence in 1776 in Philadelphia. Then he came back here and lived out the rest of his life.” She patted the stone again and then stepped back. “This is a grave of one of the country’s founding fathers.”

  “Wow,” I said softly. “That’s really cool.”

  “Yes. But it also means this place is important. It’s our very own link to the founding of the country. We always had Molly Pitcher in the old cemetery closer to town, but this….” She looked like a schoolkid let out for summer. “This is a big deal.”

  “Do you think Samuel knew this was here?”

  “I doubt it. The growth we’ve been clearing is decades old. I suspect this section fell into disuse and there weren’t the resources to clear it. So the project got put off year after year, until it became daunting. There’s still a lot of work to do, even once the brush and small trees are cleared away.”

  “True.” I looked all around at the area, which now looked more like a cemetery rather than a tangle. “I want to keep the tall trees for shade, but I’d like to get rid of the rest.”

  “We’re well on our way,” she said, glancing at the others. “There’s one more thing I want to show you.” She motioned for me to follow her to the back of the section being cleared. “This is your family. These are Samuel’s relatives.” A large stone read James, and then there were a number of smaller ones around it, many nearly worn smooth. “This is part of your heritage.”

  I nodded, staring at the stained stones, which probably hadn’t seen the sun in fifty years. “Do you think Samuel knew his family was buried here?”

  Emma nodded slowly. “His family hadn’t been kind to him in a very long time. They turned their backs on your uncle many years ago, and if you ask me, I think that hurt a great deal. As near as I can piece together from pictures, this portion of the cemetery had become a tangle under your grandfather, and I think Samuel let it continue because it was easier to keep the reminders of the pain and loss out of sight.”

  I tried to wrap my head around all that.

  “The newer stones are your grandparents, and the others go back from there.” She got to her feet, and we wandered through the other areas that had been uncovered.

  “What do we do with the broken stones? We left them in their locations so we’d know where they go, but I’m afraid that isn’t a long-term solution.”

  “I fix.”

  I jumped slightly as Luka came up behind me.

  “They can be restored and pieced back together. Why don’t you see if replicas can be made and placed on the graves? The stones that are in many pieces could be donated to the Historical Society, and we could piece them together and put them on display to show people who visit about the treasures that were found back here. They’d be preserved and out of the elements. I think we could even find some money in our budget to help with the replicas. Most of them are simple stones that could be easily fabricated and engraved today.”

  “Okay. Let’s get photographs of everything so we know what goes where.”

  “I’ll get on that.” Emma was almost giddy in her enthusiasm.

  The team had cleared the brush and trees from the entire space, and the pile of chips in the back corner of the service area was as tall as I was and growing. I wasn’t sure what we were going to do with them, but Luka didn’t seem concerned as he fed the last branches into the machine.

  The place didn’t look the same. The ground was bare, with no grass cover, but it was clear. A couple guys raked dirt into holes where roots had been dug out. The cemetery looked rough, but was recognizable again for what it was—a very old graveyard.

  “I think we’re almost done for the day,” I told Emma, then thanked everyone for their hard work before turning back to her. I handed her the cash I had on me and asked her to buy lunch for everyone. “You saved us days of work, and now we can get started making this look like it should.” I figured we could plant grass and maybe add some flowers and benches to make it more inviting and contemplative.

  The others got ready to go, and I helped Luka put the tools away. We were covered in dirt and dust, but I didn’t really care. I took Luka home so he could clean up, and he said he’d walk to his appointment with Billy and then on to work, so I headed home, showered, grabbed a very quick lunch, and headed out to the lawyer’s office.

  “Jonah.” Charles greeted me with a smile. “How are you doing?”

  “Good.”

  “Well, have a seat and we can go over everything.” Charles motioned to a large, comfortable chair in a sitting area, and I took a seat. “The estate consists of the house and its contents, the vacation home in the Adirondacks, as well as the car and bank accounts. I’ve been able to locate the following bank accounts, as well as your uncle’s retirement account, which he seemed to have barely touched.” He handed me a sheet with values, and they boggled my mind. “I’ll set fifteen percent aside for inheritance taxes and executor fees, and the rest we can pay to you as soon as the court allows it. As you can see, there is nearly two million in cash once all is settled, and that doesn’t include the sale of the other property.”

  My hands shook. “You have to be kidding me.”

  “No. Your uncle was careful with his money and didn’t live beyond his means. He gave of himself above all else.” Charles turned back to his desk. “There is also the cemetery. I didn’t include that in the estate because it has very little value on the open market. In fact, I’ve used it as a liability to the estate to reduce taxes because it costs more to maintain than the maintenance trust provides—it’s about five thousand dollars a year more. Your uncle paid that amount into the trust each year in order to keep it from depleting, and I took that into account.”

  I nodded, trying to take all this in. “That might change. We’ve been cleaning out the oldest section and found a number of things, including the grave of a signer of the Declaration, as well as people who fought in the Revolution. I also found a family plot.” I was of two minds about whether to keep the whole cemetery thing. “The Declaration signer is pretty awesome, but after the way the family turned their backs on Samuel, I’m not sure I want to keep that part of the cemetery.” I still didn’t know what to do about the graveyard, but I knew one thing I did need to do. “Make sure the trust contribution is made so there’s enough money to pay Luka and keep it going. I’ll figure out the rest.”

  “I have an idea for you.” Charles pulled out a land plan. “From the records, this small section of the cemetery is unsold. Samuel was saving it for relatives of those already buried in Ashford. But if you build a columbarium in that section”—he pointed to the area map—“you can sell the placements for ashes. It would be aboveground and take up little space, and could provide a source of revenue. It could be built in the style of the other mausoleums so it doesn’t stick out and becomes a part of the cemetery. There is also this section of land near the back road.” He tapped a blank spot on the map. “It could be cleared and a columbarium built there. Instead of the berm to separate the cemetery from the street, that would provide the barrier, as well as
additional revenue. It’s something to think about. Cemetery plots sell for thousands of dollars right now. So you could provide places for urns at less cost, in a nice location, that can be inscribed on the front. They don’t need to be deep, so in the place of ten burial plots, you could have the space for fifty urns.”

  “Wow.”

  “It’s something for you to think about to help keep the cemetery viable into the future. There isn’t any land around it available, so you have to make the best of what you have.” He offered me the papers, and I took them.

  “True. Thank you. I’ll give it some thought. But….”

  Charles chuckled. “I know. No one ever stands up in elementary school and says their life’s dream is to own a cemetery.”

  I laughed along with him. “You got that right. This whole thing has come as a shock to me. I mean, the last thing I ever expected was to find myself running a graveyard. Though the place has a serene charm I didn’t expect to find, it’s hardly what I want to do with my life.”

  “Do you want me to try to sell it?” Charles asked.

  I thought for a few seconds, my stomach jittery as I wondered what to do. Selling would be best, after all.

  “Not at this time.” There, I’d made a decision, and my stomach eased up, the jitters and uncertainty gone. Regardless of how I felt about owning Ashford, this was right. There was no way I could leave Luka without a job. At least that was the reason I gave myself for the decision. “What else do we need to go over?”

  “I’ve made the probate filings, and I’ll try to speed them up as quickly as I can. The will is solid, so the biggest thing they need to do is determine the value of the estate for tax reasons. It’s stupid that this state still does this, but it does and they want their piece. There won’t be federal taxes—the estate isn’t big enough.”

  “What do I do in the meantime?”

  “Decide on the things in the house that you want, and you can ship them home. We can arrange to sell the rest eventually. I can’t disburse any of the money until I get approval from probate, and that can take up to a few months, if they don’t contest the values I’ve placed on the assets.” Charles rolled his eyes. “You never know sometimes. But we’ll see how quickly it goes.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m getting the car transferred into your name and should have the paperwork for you soon. That way you can drive it back to New York or arrange to sell it.”

  I liked the Lincoln. It was a lot nicer than anything I’d ever buy for myself. Having one in the city could be problematic, but I did have a parking spot that came with my apartment. I was letting the space out to someone else at the moment, but all I needed to do was inform them that I was going to be using it. That was the deal. “Thank you for everything. I guess all I can do is be patient.”

  “I can handle things here if you want to go back to New York. I have keys to the house and can take care of anything you need.” Charles rocked back in his chair. “I suspect you’re interested in going home and getting back to your real life.”

  “I guess.” I needed to call Payton to see if there was any hope of picking up a part soon. Even though I had all this money coming in from Uncle Samuel, I wanted to work and make my own way, live off what I made as opposed to the work of others. Uncle Samuel’s money could be a rainy-day fund. “Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll call as soon as I hear anything.” Charles stood, and we shook hands before I left.

  I had nothing to do. Maybe Charles was right and I should wait for the papers on the car, load it with what I wanted to take back with me, and drive home. Having decided on a course of action, I headed to the house.

  I went from room to room, picking up one extraordinary object or work of art after another and then setting them back in place. It didn’t seem right to remove them. They belonged where Uncle Samuel had placed them.

  This wasn’t my house. I might have inherited it, but this was still Uncle Samuel’s, and the more I learned about him, the less I wanted to disturb things. It didn’t seem right to me. Heck, every time I walked through the front door, it seemed like I learned something about my uncle. He had obviously loved art—the house was filled with it, the walls and tables covered with it. There were display cabinets filled with glass that shimmered and shone when I turned on the lights. This was a home filled with color, light, and movement everywhere I looked, and to take it apart was tearing down a labor of love. I couldn’t do it. In the end, I left everything where it was and sat on the porch with a beer, watching the world go by and making phone calls.

  “You bored out of your head yet and ready to come home?” Chet asked immediately upon answering.

  “Yes and no.”

  “What does that mean?” Chet asked.

  I waved to one of the neighbors as she walked her two black Labs. I didn’t know her name, but I’d seen her each day as she walked the dogs since I’d gotten here. They were pretty animals and seemed so attentive to her. They were big enough to run away with her if they wanted, but they kept looking at her like she hung the moon.

  “Are you listening to me?”

  “Sorry. The estate stuff isn’t as simple as I first thought it was going to be.”

  Chet scoffed. “So now you’ve decided you want to watch over dead people?”

  I figured he was trying to make a joke, but I wasn’t laughing.

  “There are people whose life depends on me making the right decision,” I said softly. I didn’t want to admit to Chet or anyone that I was developing a connection to this place and to the damned cemetery.

  “People’s lives depend on a cemetery?” Chet laughed. “I suppose you need a gatekeeper. After all, people are just dying to get into the place.”

  “Luka is the groundskeeper and it’s his job, and….”

  “I see,” Chet said seriously. “You really are falling for him, huh?”

  “No!” I snapped way too fast. I seemed to have a habit of doing that.

  “You’re an awful liar. I don’t even need to be there to know when you’re not telling the truth.” Chet sighed. “So you’re developing feelings for him. I told you before it was okay. There’s nothing wrong with that. You deserve to be happy.”

  “But I was happy in New York, and I love being on the stage and….” My head was a jumble of worries and anxiety. “I love theater. I always have.”

  “Yeah.” Chet hummed softly in my ear. “I know you do. So do I. But I can’t remember the last time the theater kept me warm at night or held me when I felt the entire world was against me. The theater doesn’t console me when I don’t get the fucking part… or—” His voice broke. “I changed my plans to visit my sister for an audition. The only one to come up since the show closed, and the director thought he was the asshole from A Chorus Line and insisted on asking all kinds of questions… for a goddamned chorus position. And I didn’t get it. They chose some blond… twink with a perkier ass than mine.”

  I heard the tears threatening and knew his pain. “Then come here now. Get on the train tomorrow, and I’ll pick you up at the station.”

  “Okay,” Chet answered so softly that I could barely hear him. “I’ll let you know what time I get in.” He cleared his throat once more. “Maybe you’re better off taking care of dead people. Hell, they aren’t going anywhere and they don’t make demands.” He swallowed hard. “I’ll call you as soon as I have things arranged.” He hung up, and I set the phone on the table beside me, drinking the last of my beer. Then I set the bottle down and grabbed the phone once again.

  “Payton, it’s Jonah.” I figured I might as well get the call to my agent out of the way.

  “I haven’t forgotten about you,” Payton said, his cheerful voice as upbeat as always. “I’m working on some things, but it’s going to take a little time. How are things in Pennsylvania? Did everything go okay with your uncle? How are you holding up?”

  “I’m good.” I figured a clean, simple answer was best. I didn’t need to
tell him Uncle Samuel was now resting on the living room coffee table. “Just trying to get things wrapped up here and make some decisions about the estate. How are you?”

  “Stuff sucks right now. I can’t even book a show in Lancaster. They’re all cast, and I got actors all clawing for work.” He shuffled papers. “I’ve had some interest in you, but everything is out a ways. You know how it is. I’m doing all I can.”

  I never had any doubts. Payton always gave everything the very best he had. That was why he was such an amazing agent. He also believed in telling the truth and not blowing smoke up my ass, which I appreciated. “Okay.”

  “I’ll call as soon as I have anything. There are rumors of a new Andrew Lloyd Webber show coming over from London. We’ll see if that happens. Lots of things are on the horizon—it’s the immediate future that sucks.”

  “Thanks, Payton. Let me know.” We ended the call. He was busy, and I had nothing more to say. Things were the way they were, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  I ended up putting the phone aside. I’d had enough of it anyway. I got another beer and sat back down, getting comfortable, listening to the breeze. I ended up getting more beer and my eyes grew heavy, so I sprawled out and closed them.

  An amazing taste on my lips pulled me out of the depths of sleep. I didn’t think about what it was, just reveled in the deep richness and wanted more. The flavor intensified, and I realized I was being given an amazing kiss.

  I cracked my eyes open, winding my hands around Luka’s neck. “What are you doing here?”

  “I got new job,” Luka said, smiling. “They nice to me and give me more money. Billy say he train me to be waiter.” He was so excited, I didn’t have the heart to correct his speech and spoil his flow. “Everything going to be good. I send money home, maybe reduce shame.” His smile didn’t fade, but the hope in his voice tore at my heart.