“We thought it would amuse Bertie’s guests to be reminded of the way things used to work in a library. Charlene and I dragged a lot of old library equipment and artifacts out of storage. Among them was a book titled The Celestine Prophecy. Does that mean anything to you?”
“I remember it. I don’t believe I ever read it, but many of the people in my … circle of acquaintances had. They raved constantly about it, about the meaning and the quest for enlightenment. More than a few talked about heading off to South America in the footsteps of the author. What was his name again?”
“James Redfield.”
“That’s right. As far as I know, not one of them ever did end up either in Peru or enlightened. Enlightenment was something a certain type of person sought, Lucy. In the circles in which I mixed in those days, ‘sought’ meant talk about and have another drink. Not actually doing anything to achieve it.” She scrunched up her face in thought. “If you’re asking if there’s something specific I know about that book, I can’t think of anything.”
“Attached to the flyleaf of the book was a withdrawal record. The sort libraries everywhere used before computers. I was with Helena when she saw that slip. She reacted strongly to it. Very strongly. I didn’t know why then, and I haven’t been able to find out why since. When the police later showed a copy of the slip to Bertie’s class, several of them recognized a name on it.” I took my copy of the slip out of my bag. “Would you mind having a look?”
Rachel held out her hand. “Not at all.”
I gave it to her, and she studied it for a long time. She passed it to Aunt Ellen, who then gave it to Josie. “I don’t recognize any of those names except for Jeff Applewhite,” Rachel said. “I most definitely remember Jeff Applewhite. It’s dated May 25, 1995. Do you know the significance of that date, Lucy?”
“It was mentioned that something happened around that time.”
Rachel leaned back in her chair. She cradled her glass in her hands. Her nails were freshly painted a soft pink. “I appreciate you realizing this might be sensitive to me, Lucy, but don’t worry about it. I’m happy to talk about it. Jeff Applewhite, and what subsequently happened, was a turning point in my life. The major turning point, I might say. Some people need therapy, some need intervention, some need time in rehab. Some even get jail time. I was lucky none of those things were needed in my case. They might have been, without Jeff and what he did.”
Uncle Amos flipped the fish. Josie sipped her drink, and Aunt Ellen smiled encouragingly at her friend.
“I was a wild one in my youth,” Rachel said. “I dropped out of school. I drank to excess. I drank beyond excess. I did drugs. Plenty of drugs. I was on a very bad path. My family has money—lots of money—which was made by my grandfather who’d started his life as the son of a shoemaker and a seamstress. My own father, unfortunately for us all, didn’t inherit the work ethic of his father and grandparents. My father pretended to work in the family firm, and my mother pretended to be a pillar of East Coast society, but what they mostly wanted out of life was to spend money. I’m their only child. The only thing I can say in my defense is that they pretty much left me to raise myself, watched over by a series of nannies and housekeepers, some of whom were kind. Some of whom were not.
“My parents are still alive, by the way. These days they spend most of their summers on Long Island and winters in Arizona. My father’s no longer involved in the day-to-day running of the family business, which is the main reason it continues to do well. I’m not telling you I’m a poor little rich girl, Lucy. I’m well aware all my life choices were my own. Anyway, to continue the story … in the spring of 1995, my parents were in New York. Dad was still pretending to manage the company and Mom was playing socialite. I was in Nags Head at the house I still live in today. The housekeeper was a woman by the name of Juliette Ramirez.”
Aunt Ellen nodded.
“Juliette no longer works for me, but we’re still close. It was her, most of all, who made me see the dangers of the path I was on. Anyway, to continue the story, my grandfather bought his wife, my grandmother, a necklace. It featured a large white diamond in the center, which was surrounded by smaller diamonds, sapphires, and rubies. The main diamond was one hundred carats.”
“That’s a lot,” Josie said with considerable understatement.
“It is. The necklace was, truth be told, a truly hideous piece. Suitable perhaps for the Queen of England to wear at her coronation, but not anyone else. My grandfather, whom I loved very much by the way, was a plain, practical, down-to-earth, level-headed man, who made a fortune by the time he was thirty. He loved his wife, my grandmother, with a passion. Or so people tell me. Sadly, I never knew her. He gave her the necklace as a grand, extravagant gesture on the birth of their first child. My father. My father turned out to be their only child, as she died a few months later in a car accident. They’d been invited to a state dinner at the White House, which took place the month after she died. She’d planned to wear the necklace to that for the first time. Grandfather was completely devastated at her death and threw himself totally into his businesses, thus making even more money. My father was raised by servants, so I guess I can’t blame him too much for abandoning me in my childhood. It was all he knew.”
Uncle Amos held the
