Chapter 4 - Lone Hill
Stone and Gracey sat facing each other and held each other’s hand as the jet neared the Nashville airport. As they lined up for the approach, Stone moved to the seat next to Gracey and reached over to buckle her seat belt before buckling his own. The landing was smooth and uneventful. After eighteen hours, Gracey was anxious to disembark the plane. Antoine moved quickly to the front to open the door, and Stone waited until he passed to unbuckle his seat belt and stood. Stone moved into the aisle and took a step back to let Gracey exit first. His mother had taught him well.
Gracey moved to the door and stopped to look back for one last glance at the opulence. With no photos, she would need to remember everything to share with Ms. Maple.
Crossing the threshold of the plane and onto the steps, she gasped. “Is that for us?” Gracey inquired.
“What do you think?” Stone replied.
“It’s just the two of us. Do we really need something so big for just two people?” Gracey retorted, confused.
“Gracey, it is two hours to Lone Hill. And after eighteen hours in the air, a little leg room will be welcome.”
“A little leg room? It’s a limousine!” Gracey called out.
Stone laughed. “Is this your poker face?” Stone teased. Gracey reached back and elbowed him only to come in contact with his rock hard abs.
The driver, Charles, stood next to the open door of the highly polished black limousine. As Gracey approached, Charles nodded politely and looked down towering over her, “Ma’am.” Charles then looked at Stone and seemed to be answering a silent question, “Yes sir.”
Antoine loaded Stone and Gracey’s luggage into the trunk of the limousine said his goodbyes, and soon Stone and Gracey were on their way home to Lone Hill.
I need photos, Gracey said to herself. Ms. Maple is never going to believe this. Gracey could only smile. Stone smiled. This was not the time for a poker face.
Stone helped Gracey settle in for the two-hour drive. The scenery would be fantastic once they left the city. Lone Hill was two hours outside of Nashville to the east. Not necessarily a rural town but a smaller town than most metropolitan cities. Both Gracey and Stone had lived in Lone Hill all their lives, except for when Stone went away to Harvard. Both of Gracey’s parents grew up there as well as Stone’s father, Rudy.
Stone found it hard not to look at Gracey. Her emerald green eyes seem to hypnotize him. Everything about Gracey made him smile. Stone felt complete when he was with her. He knew instinctively Gracey was his other half.
Stone pulled out his cell phone to make a few calls to ensure everything would be ready for their arrival. Hearing mainly yes, and no answers from Stone, Gracey occupied herself exploring the limousine. There were nooks and crannies everywhere. Behind every compartment door was another surprise. Gracey found music, movies, TV, and in the refrigerator section, food, drinks and even a place for stemware and plates. Every time she opened another door she gasped in utter amazement. Too busy exploring; Gracey did not notice the silent glances between the chauffeur, Charles, and Stone. Each gasp would result in a smile from Stone and a small nod from Charles. And then, Gracey found them, truffles. They were the same champagne bead truffles Mrs. Rudolph would have flown in for her Christmas Galas from the New Orleans’ French Quarter. They were the same champagne bead truffles which Gracey fell in love with and would sneak a few into a napkin to take home to her mother every year. Gracey's excitement turned to embarrassment. She looked over at Stone like a child being caught with her hand in the cookie jar and realized her chocolate thefts had not been unnoticed every year.
“It’s okay,” Stone said in a comforting voice and smiled. Looking to the front of the limousine, Stone caught Charles smiling, as well.
With the first bite, Gracey was in heaven; this was a blissful luxury her meager salary could not afford. And then out of habit she wrapped a few into a napkin and slipped them into her purse.
Soon Stone and Gracey were nearing Lone Hill. They would first pass the Rudolph estate. The locals, due to their southern ancestry called it a plantation, but it was not old enough to be a plantation with the mansion being built only thirty years before. It was a stately mansion built to match the old-fashioned style of Lone Hill. It was a two story colonial with large white columns on the front. It sat atop of the ‘lone hill’ in the area. Framed by acres of pristine dark green grass, it had been appropriately named Emerald Knoll.
Gracey stared out the window as they reached the boundary of Emerald Knoll. “Big, huh?” Stone stated self-consciously.
“Ya think?” Gracey replied and rolled her eyes.
They would need to drive through the town square, to get to the other side of Lone Hill and to the boarding house. The boarding house was near the bank headquarters allowing Gracey to walk to work, weather permitting, thus allowing her to stretch her paltry budget a little bit further.
The town square was the quaint 19th-century style with the town hall in the center. Similar style buildings lined the streets around the town hall. Having grown up in Lone Hill, Gracey had never truly appreciated the look and feel of her hometown. While big enough to have all the 21st-century amenities, it was small enough to feel old-fashioned and homey.
Soon they would pass Rudolph, Inc. Like the rest of the town, the building had the old south feel. During Abigail’s first visit to Lone Hill, she fell in love with the town. Mr. Rudolph vowed, from that point forward, to preserve the small town atmosphere despite the cost. His connections with the local government and ‘good ole boy’ associations ensured all future buildings met strict architectural guidelines.
It was Friday, so Gracey knew she would have the weekend off. But what about Tuesday? Monday was a holiday. Would she be back in her cubicle Tuesday morning? Gracey wondered. Just enjoy the rest of the ride, Gracey told herself, knowing it would soon be over.
“Sorry Gracey, but I need to make a quick stop to pick something up at the office. It should only take a moment. They have it waiting for me in the lobby. Then, I will take you home.”
Gracey was quickly pulled back into reality. Her twenty-four hours of total indulgence was about to end. “You’re the boss,” Gracey answered contritely, and her mindset reverted to her position in the pecking order sitting up straight and moving away.
Oops, Stone thought. I blew that.
Charles pulled into the drive to Rudolph, Inc. and parked at the front of the building. It was lunch time, and there were numerous people standing near the front door. Included in the group were a few of the women who worked in the basement near Gracey.
Oh no, Gracey feared silently at seeing the women who had given her strife after her fall from wealth.
While Gracey was frowning, Stone grinned. This could be my chance to redeem myself, he pondered mutely.
Charles opened the door, and the women looked in to see who was getting out of the limousine. It was Stone. They swooned. Then they saw Gracey and gawked in astonishment. Gracey just smiled shamelessly at them as if to say, look at me now. Retribution had been served. Seeing the silent interaction between Gracey and the other ladies, Stone decided to take it even further. As he exited, he took Gracey's hand and kissed it for a second time. “Be right back,” Stone added with a wink and grin as he closed the door.
Gracey looked to Charles, who through his normally stoic façade chuckled with amusement and pleasure.
Returning in less than a minute with a large envelope, Stone noticed the women still standing there. His normally smiling face and sparkling eyes turned cold with discontent. Stone's glare told them wordlessly he would not tolerate their behavior.
Minutes later the limousine pulled up in front of Ms. Maple’s boarding house. It was a 20th-century craftsman’s style home. It was white with classic black shutters complete with a white picket fence and gate and cottage style garden in the front filled with colorful spring blooms. While mournful her journey w
as over, Gracey was pleased to be home.
Charles opened the limo door, and when Gracey stepped out, Ms. Maple was promptly on the front porch to greet them. Stone walked with Gracey inside, and the trio entered the parlor to say their hellos, sheltered from the glaring afternoon sun. Charles entered the home behind them with Gracey’s luggage and with a nod from Ms. Maple and Stone; Charles proceeded to Gracey’s room.
Gracey was bubbling, impatient to tell Ms. Maple about the trip home. “We have plenty of time for that, darlin'. Let us get you settled in first. Lunch is almost ready. Go freshen up, and we can talk over lunch and a tall glass of sweet tea.”
Gracey stood and climbed the steps to her room. Ms. Maple winked at Stone and returned to the kitchen. Stone waited a minute and then quietly climbed the stairs and walked down the hall to Gracey’s room. Gracey entered, but Stone did not; staying in the hallway.
Gracey was surprised. On her bed, she saw a large gift basket with a large lavender bow. On the table, there was a collection of candles that softly scented the room. And a single lavender rose. Gracey picked it up, now suspecting who the basket was from, and inhaled the scent of the rose; a hint of spice.
Gracey turned and noticed Stone standing in the hall smiling from ear to ear watching her exuberance. “From you?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“Just because you are home, the journey does not have to end,” Stone replied.
Gracey moved towards him, to thank Stone, but he stood in the hall, resolute. Realizing Stone was not moving towards her, Gracey stopped.
“It’s your bedroom, Gracey. I am not coming in,” Stone explained with a smug smirk, as he backed up and sat in the chair against the wall directly in front of her bedroom door. “Open, your basket. I hope I have not missed anything,” Stone insisted.
Gracey carefully removed the bow and the cellophane wrap. Inside she found bottles of her favorite shampoo and body gel, a bag of jelly beans and a deck of cards. There was also a full box of truffles and a new bottle of her mother’s perfume. The last item was a leather-bound scrapbook. Inside the scrapbook, a penny was taped to the first page with the words, ‘For your next wish.'
Gracey turned and walked towards Stone and with tears of happiness in her eyes; she moved into his waiting arms. “Thank you,” was all she could say.
“Lunch,” Ms. Maple called out from the bottom of the staircase. Releasing his hold, Stone looked into Gracey’s emerald eyes wanting to kiss her and not on her hand this time. But it was too soon. He would be patient. He would wait.
The three entered the kitchen together, and Gracey was surprised as she saw three place settings. Stone was staying for lunch. It was a simple lunch, homemade chicken salad sandwiches with a relish tray of sweet pickles, pickled green tomatoes, and okra, and a pitcher of sweet iced tea.
Ms. Maple was careful to pick the topic of conversation, talking about the local gossip and other events during Gracey’s absence. She intentionally kept the subject matter light.
It is good to be home, Gracey sighed.
As they finished, Ms. Maple placed two slices of chess pie onto the table and without explanation left the room.
“Let’s talk about Tuesday,” Stone announced.
“Yes, Tuesday, back to the old grind,” she replied.
“No, we start the investigation on Tuesday.”
“But I have to work. I cannot afford to take off.”
“Gracey, I have it all worked out. That is why we stopped at the office. I am taking a personal leave of absence, and you, well, how do I say this without offending you?”
After a moment of contemplation, Stone finished with, “I am taking care of your pay.”
“Taking care of my pay? I do not need a handout. I need a paycheck,” Gracey yelled, insulted.
“Gracey wait that is not what I am saying. You will be paid your normal hourly rate, plus any expenses. Think of it as being my assistant for this special project.”
Gracey sat trying to think how to reply. Still angry, she was trying to wrap her head around what Stone had told her. Gracey wanted desperately to find her mother’s killer. And while work would be a distraction from the pain she was about to endure, she needed to be an active part of the investigation. “Okay,” she acquiesced through her clenched jaw.
Stone smiled. “We need to work some more on your poker face.” They laughed.
“I will pick you up Tuesday morning,” Stone instructed. “Get some rest this weekend.” And he left.