“Murdered,” Connor says, flipping his book shut. “I don’t know if it was the KKK or some other group, but he was lynched.”
Katherine narrows her eyes at him. “We only have Delia’s word on that. There’s no record of a lynching in Athens after 1921.”
“Lynched? Why was he lynched?” I ask.
Connor shrugs. “A man of color involved with a white woman in the 1930s. In Georgia. If I had to guess, I’d say someone saw them together and took offense. And Katherine’s right—there’s no record of a lynching in Athens in the 1930s. But you’ve got a little county just to the south, only seven miles or so down the road, that split off during Reconstruction. A major lynching there in 1905. Another nearby in 1946. And plenty of lynchings were never recorded.”
“What about the third person who was there, Grant? Maybe he could—”
“I was never able to locate him,” Katherine says. “Delia told me she didn’t know where he was, hadn’t seen him since she left Athens, right after Abel died. And then she said she’d see me in hell before she’d give me those keys.” Her blue eyes are troubled. “I understand her being upset, obviously. But it’s not like I had anything to do with his death.”
“Did you tell her it was Saul who sabotaged the jump?”
Katherine nods. “But I made it clear that I knew nothing about what he was going to do. I combed through all of my diaries, Kate, over and over—looking for clues as to why he did this, when he started planning it. And I can’t find anything. There were a few odd events, yes. I think you watched the entry where I was complaining about his taking unapproved medicines on a jump.”
I nod, and she goes on. “And there were a few times he was evasive or secretive, but that was just his nature. He hated anyone knowing about anything that could be perceived as a weakness—never reported sick, even refused to go to CHRONOS Med one time when he burned his arm on a jump. It would never have left a scar if he hadn’t been such a . . .”
She trails off and then adds, “It’s not like I could have stopped him, Kate.”
I don’t say anything. Could she have stopped him? I don’t know. Even if she didn’t know what Saul was planning, she did know he was breaking CHRONOS rules, maybe a lot of them. And she knew he was involved with some questionable people, but she waited to turn him in until it was too late. No, she didn’t know for certain, but she had more to go on than anyone else at CHRONOS.
Katherine is either thinking the same thing herself or else she reads my thoughts from my expression, because her face tightens. I brace, afraid she’s about to lose it again, like she did the other night at our meeting, but then I see tears in her eyes.
“You blame me, too, don’t you?”
I glance back over at Connor, who has very conveniently decided to go back to his book, and try to figure out how to tell her the truth without being too harsh.
“No, Katherine. I don’t blame you. I think you made some mistakes, but you were young. People sometimes do stupid things when they’re in love. Although—” I’m about to say I can’t understand why she was in love with Saul. Nothing I’ve seen or heard makes him seem remotely appealing. And even though I catch myself before the words actually come out, she guesses what I’m thinking.
“You didn’t know him then, Kate. He was handsome, suave, smart, and, believe it or not, he could be very nice when he wanted to be. I don’t know how much of that was an act, but I was far from the only one who fell for it.”
“I do have the benefit of hindsight,” I acknowledge, deciding not to mention that Adrienne, the historian I met in Port Darwin, did know Saul, and she found him repulsive, too. “But to get back to the original point, I’m going into Athens with an open mind. I’m not going to assume this guy’s death is unavoidable. For all we know, that assumption is what caused us to fail last time.”
“Because you know best, obviously, based on your many years of experience.” Her voice is dripping with sarcasm, and I’m opening my mouth to snap back when I hear muffled music. It takes me a second to realize it’s a ringtone, coming from inside my swimsuit. It’s the Clash, “Should I Stay or Should I Go?” I downloaded that one just before Mom left, when she was having the inevitable second thoughts about leaving her baby girl.
I’m not about to fish it out of my swimsuit in here, so I turn to leave the library. “It’s Mom,” I say as I head down the hall. “We’ll finish this later.”
Mom hasn’t really met anyone to talk to in Italy, since most of her new colleagues speak English as a second language. That means phone calls with her are a bit on the lengthy side, because she has to talk to someone. She’s enjoying Genoa, however—the weather is nice, the food is great, and she’s looking forward to getting started on the research.
And she thinks I should definitely wear the new red sundress to the party. I suspect it’s too dressy for anything billed as a barbecue, but Trey did say that this is more likely to be the grilled-scallops and brisket-on-brioche type of barbecue than burgers and baked beans.
The sundress does seem much more likely to take Trey’s breath away than the denim skirt and silk tee I’d planned to wear, and I really do want to take his breath away tonight. The rain from earlier in the day has cleared up, so it should be warm enough. I finally give in to temptation and take the dress off the hanger, then search around for some shoes that match.
Unfortunately, the sundress doesn’t offer a hiding place for the medallion, and there are far too many Cyrists around who might recognize it for me to wear it openly. I finally pop it into the leather pouch Kiernan gave me and tape it to my abdomen with an oversized bandage, like the one that I wore on my leg after my encounter with the Cyrist Dobermans. And I snag two of the smaller Band-Aids for my knuckles, which I really need to stop chewing when I’m nervous.
I apply a touch of lip gloss, slip into the sandals, and grab my clutch bag and the bandages so that I can return them to the cabinet where Katherine keeps her large supply of medicines, herbals, and mystery teas. I check the hallway and peer over the banister before going downstairs. I’ve managed to avoid Katherine since our argument in the library, and bumping into her right now would spoil my party mood.
Connor is making coffee when I walk in, and I’m surprised to see he’s using the coffee grinder and beans that Dad bought. Maybe there’s hope for him. He turns when I close the cabinet door. A smile spreads across his face. “Wow. There’s a girly-girl inside you after all.”
I blush but return the smile. “I let her out to play every now and then. If she behaves.”
“Oh my God, poor Trey.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s going to walk up to that door in a few minutes thinking he has some degree of control over this evening, only to have that illusion completely shattered the second he lays eyes on you in that dress.”
I glance down. It is a little lower cut than what I usually wear, but I hadn’t really thought I was entering jezebel territory. “It’s too revealing, isn’t it? Maybe I still have time to change.”
“No, no, no.” Connor reaches out and grabs my elbow. “It’s not even close to indecent. I just meant that you look beautiful. Trey won’t be able to take his eyes off of you, and he’ll probably have to fight to defend his turf from the other guys. Well played, Kate, well played.”
I raise an eyebrow, partly because I’m unsure how I feel about being referred to as turf and partly because he’s turned a simple clothing decision into something that sounds very Machiavellian. I mean, I did pick it because I thought Trey would like it, but . . .
“Trust me, Kate. You should definitely wear the dress. And I’m speaking from experience, both as a former teenage boy and as a father.”