“Oh, she could be tremendously self-absorbed and uncaring.” She shrugged. “But she always watched out for me. And even though she never said as much, I believe she came to love me. She was very tender with me when we were alone. And with Emmett. He alone was witness to how happy we made each other.”
“Yes, I saw his paintings of her. She always appeared carefree and joyous in them. She will be immortalized in them.”
“I’m not sure I could ever look at them. It would be too painful to reminisce about the times they were painted. They bickered like brother and sister, you know.”
I nodded. I could imagine that relationship with Isabel.
Violetta frowned. “Emmett will attend her funeral, won’t he?”
I leaned back in my chair with a sigh. “No one has seen him yet. I doubt he will.” I wondered if Emmett would even know of Isabel’s death. He was clearly in hiding since his encounter with the robed men, which likely meant no word would reach him of her death any time soon. Ambrose would likely suffer Emmett’s wrath for it, since his brother was at least part of the reason he found it necessary to conceal himself from further kidnapping attempts.
“Oh, he must,” Violetta sat up, nose scrunched with distaste. “I don’t know why he’s insisting on remaining in hiding. He’s acting so juvenile. All this secrecy is absurd.”
I blinked. “Secrecy?”
She stared back at me, mouth hardening. “I just mean his unexcused absence.”
“And the girl Isabel saw him with? You didn’t also see her, did you?”
“No, I did not.”
I deflated. Due to her untimely death, Isabel had never had the chance to point out the mysterious girl. Now I might never know, at least not until Emmett deemed it safe enough to return home. I turned over Violetta’s words and sent her a questioning look. “What secrecy do you mean?” I sat forward. “Do you know something else?”
She flushed, looking away.
She did know something. “What is it?”
“Nothing. I know nothing.”
“Violetta.”
She glanced at me, then sighed. “I haven’t told anyone. I never even told …” She shrugged. “It’s nothing, really. It’s just a list he gave me for safekeeping.”
I frowned. “A list?”
“Yes. It makes no sense to me. He gave it to me just before he disappeared.”
I straightened. “You slipped that note under his door.”
She ducked her head. “I … you saw that, did you?”
“Yes. I thought it was from the mystery girl.”
“No. It was me.” She sent me a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t too stern with him, was I? I was very cross when I wrote that reply.”
“It sounded appropriately firm,” I said, mind turning over this new information. “The message you received from him, it was in Emmett’s handwriting?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure? It sounded like him?”
“Of course. I’m positive.”
I let out a breath. Okay. That certified that Emmett was still alive and all but nearly confirmed he was hiding from his kidnappers. It still nagged at me that they had attempted to grab Maxwell as well. News of Maxwell being kidnapped would have spread if they’d been successful, perhaps prompting Emmett to reappear to help his favorite brother—that had likely been the point. Yet … news of Isabel’s death hadn’t reached Emmett. Had the kidnappers been banking on him being smuggled into the house of a friend who would pass along any pertinent news? Or was something else going on here altogether? It could very well be that whoever Emmett was involved with had nothing to do with the kidnappings whatsoever. He could be on his way home from an elopement for all I knew. It was all conjecture.
“You look troubled,” Violetta said.
“It’s good news,” I said, distracted by my own thoughts. “Would you mind showing me the list when we return to Hale’s Corner?”
