Houses of Stone, KATHY [classic literature books TXT] 📗

had expected: a few hanging plants, a few good prints, a conservative muted color scheme of oatmeal and brown. The only unexpected feature was an Oriental rug, its blend of peacock blues and greens exquisitely faded by time.

"That came from Amberley," Lisa explained. "It's not very attractive, but I needed something on the floor; it's in my lease. And carpeting is so expensive."

"It's Turkish or Kashan," Peggy said. "Antique."

"I haven't decided yet whether to put it in the sale," Lisa said. "I'm told it's rather valuable and it sure doesn't go with my other things. But I'm forgetting my manners. Please sit down. Could I offer you a cup of tea or a glass of wine?"

Peggy accepted the latter and Karen followed her lead. She wondered whether Lisa would mention her speech. She had no intention of introducing the subject herself.

After they had discussed the weather and admired the apartment, Lisa said politely, "I enjoyed your speech today."

"Thank you," said Karen politely.

Peggy's method of breaking the ice was to use a club. "I'll bet that reaction wasn't universal," she said with a laugh.

Lisa's faint social smile broadened. "Not hardly. The Colonel was fit to be tied. I heard him tell Miz Fowler she ought to evict you."

"That would be a nuisance," Karen said calmly. "But I can always find another place."

"Oh, she won't." Lisa's pretty lip curled. "She's like all the other old folks, always talking about honor and dignity, but when her principles come up against cold hard cash, guess which loses. She needs money. Like all the rest of us."

Peggy's methods seemed to be effective; Lisa was speaking more candidly than she ever had to Karen. "Including Cameron?" Peggy asked.

"Especially Cam. He's as anxious to get out of this hick town as I am. Why do you suppose he's dirtying his nice clean hands fixing up the house? The minute he gets enough money to stick his mama in a nursing home, he'll be gone."

"Oh, is his mother ill? I'm so sorry," Peggy exclaimed.

"She's not sick, she's just old and senile. The only places that will take people like that cost a bundle." Lisa dismissed the subject with a shrug. "But I'm boring you with all this gossip—"

"No, not at all," Peggy said sincerely. "I hope the auction is a great success and that you make lots of money."

"So do I," Lisa said with equal sincerity. She gestured. "There are the boxes of papers you wanted to see. Cam refused to put them in the auction and I didn't argue, because I didn't suppose they were worth much. Have a look if you like. I trust you to do what's fair."

She sat watching, ankles crossed and hands primly folded, while the other two inspected the contents of the two cartons. It was a dirty job; the envelopes and albums had been given a superficial dusting, but they were encrusted with the mold and grime of decades. Karen didn't doubt that Lisa had already inspected them thoroughly.

It took Peggy less than half an hour to reach a conclusion. She sat back on her heels and shook her head.

"Nothing that interests you?" Lisa asked.

"I'm afraid not. There doesn't seem to be anything earlier than the turn of the century. This century. There's no reason why you should take my word for it—"

"There's no reason why I shouldn't." Lisa uncrossed her ankles and put her feet primly together. "I could see by your expression that nothing hit you. Mr. Meyer's reaction was the same."

Peggy began returning the dusty bundles and old photo albums to the cartons. "The old boy was certainly a pack rat, wasn't he? He even kept newspaper clippings and advertisements. Some people collect those things, I believe. And old photo albums."

Lisa nodded, but did not reply. When the cartons had been repacked, Peggy rose stiffly to her feet. "Damned arthritis," she muttered.

"I'm sorry you didn't find anything," Lisa said. "Would you like another glass of wine?"

"No, thanks, we've taken up enough of your time."

Karen had remained silent, feeling it was better to let Peggy handle the matter. She wasn't as good as Peggy at hiding her feelings, and at the moment her feelings for Lisa were not especially friendly.

Lisa escorted them to the door. "Will I see you at the auction?" she asked.

Peggy nodded. "I don't suppose there was a family Bible?"

They were like a pair of duelists, Karen thought, thrusting and parrying.

Lisa pursed her lips and looked thoughtful. "I don't remember offhand. It might be among the books. They'll be sold Saturday."

As soon as they were outside, Peggy let out a crow of triumph. "One up for me. She's a tricky little devil, though. By this time she must have a pretty good idea of what we're after, and she's going to milk us for all she can get. And I doubt she'll share with Cousin Cameron."

"You think there is a Bible?"

"Yes. And I don't think it is among the books that will be sold."

They got in the car, and Peggy looked distastefully at her grubby hands. "I need to wash. I'd have asked Lisa if I could use her bathroom, but somehow I got the impression she wasn't crazy about having us hang around."

"Maybe she's got a date tonight—with another prospective customer. I still think she and Bill are in cahoots."

"But she doesn't trust him, so she's getting a second opinion from us? Could be. She didn't expect us to find anything in that lot. I'll bet she's got more enticing material squirreled away."

"Those boxes were full," Karen said. "There wouldn't have been room in them for much else."

"But how many boxes were there?"

After a moment Karen said, "There's one way to find out."

"Cameron."

"Right." She turned onto Main Street. It was lined with handsome, carefully restored old houses. Some were antebellum, with the classical porticoes and white columns of that era; others displayed the sprawling extravagance of Victoriana, with towers and verandas and yards of gingerbread trim.

Karen brought the car to a stop at a traffic