Folly by King Laurie R

Author:King, Laurie R. [King, Laurie R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Suspense, thriller, Crime, Historical, Adult
ISBN: 9780307567550
Amazon: 0307567559
Goodreads: 7864259
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 2001-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

The rain cleared by mid-morning. When the sun was as close to upright in the sky as it would get and the shadows behind the house were at their narrowest, Rae took up the smaller of her two kerosene lamps, along with a set of spare batteries and a bulb for the flashlight, and returned to the cave. The heap of thrown-about dirt behind the house was muddy; the plants were wilted; the hole was still there.

When her upper body was just inside the cave’s narrow entrance, Rae became aware of the silly urge to clear her throat, as if warning someone of her approach. She eased forward until she could reach the flashlight, which had rolled against the cave wall, and pulled it apart to replace its batteries. The bulb, she was pleased to find, had not broken in the fall. Her hands were remarkably steady. She shoved the flashlight into the back pocket of her pants and lit the lamp, turned the shield so it cast its light in front, then worked her way down the tunnel until she reached the small side cave where Desmond Newborn’s remains lay. There she turned the lamp around to illuminate the space.

And let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding; he was still there. God only knew what her reaction would have been if he’d been missing, she reflected a touch wildly, and then made herself settle back against the wall to face the bones of the man who had made his home on Folly.

“I love your house, Uncle Desmond,” she told him.

Her voice rang oddly flat in the cave, and Rae abruptly felt ridiculous sitting and talking to a pile of bones and rags. Respect for the dead was one thing, but if Great-uncle Desmond was anything like the man she had come to imagine, he would either break down laughing or walk away in disgust.

What could she say to him? Desmond, I’ve imagined meeting you ever since I was nine years old, when I found your medal in Grandfathers drawer? Desmond, fellow wounded black sheep, you helped me survive my childhood, you were my guide through some very dark days? What could she say to him that he did not know?

So instead of talking to the shade, Rae simply sat with him for a while.

Then she got back to her knees and, scooting the lamp before her, went to examine the rest of his tomb.

The cave’s narrow opening grew wider and taller, until finally she could stand, if cautiously. She did not know what to expect of Desmond’s cave, although she would not have been surprised to find crates of smuggled goods—rum, or bathtub gin perhaps, it having been Prohibition when he died. Actually, she halfway thought she might find some hidden treasure or other, and was disappointed when the cave opened up to reveal nothing but a set of nearly empty shelves.

The main cavern was a lopsided egg perhaps fifteen feet long and ten wide, with

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