“Ready?” Gram said to Joe, who’d dismounted and was standing behind us.
He rubbed his finger under his nose and then scratched his ear. His face was as dirty as it had been when I first met him. I still didn’t understand what I’d seen a moment earlier. “Yes, ma’am.”
We walked up to the front doors. Gram lifted one of the heavy knockers and tapped lightly. We could hear the sound echo through the cavernous house. Opie’s BMW was parked around the side of the garage, out of sight from anyone who didn’t take the time to take a quick look. I suspected her parents were traveling again.
It was a long moment before a slight shuffle of footsteps moved toward the door. The hesitation after they stopped made me think that Opie was considering her visitors through the peephole long and hard. I tried to keep my expression neutral.
The door finally opened.
“Miz, Betts, what’s up?” Opie asked.
She looked terrible. Normally, when she wasn’t in costume as a local historical character, she was done up. She wasn’t shy with makeup, and her bleached blond hair was always a little bigger than it seemed it should be. She wore her clothes tight—and it truly got under my skin that she looked good in things a size or two smaller than what she should be wearing.
But today, she was different. I wondered why she’d opened the door. There was not a stitch of makeup on her face, and her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. She wore sweats that were perhaps older than my own favorite pair.
“Uhm, everything okay with Teddy?” she asked, before we could answer her first question.
So that’s why she opened the door. A part of me wanted to understand what had gone on between her and my brother. A bigger part still didn’t want the details.
Gram looked at me and then back at Opie.
“He’s fine, Ophelia. We’re just here to share some information with you. We found out something we thought you might find fun and interesting,” Gram said.
“What’s it about?” Opie said.
“We came upon some evidence that you are related to one of our more infamous citizens,” Gram said with a fake smile. This wasn’t any easier on her than it was me; she just wanted to be more mature.
Opie’s eyes lit brighter. “Who?”
“Can we come in, Ophelia? There’s a letter attached to our discovery and we’d like to read it to you.”
“Sure,” she said, no hesitation.
I recognized that a part of me kind of liked that we might be telling her something to bring her out of whatever funk she was in. What was wrong with me? I had no doubt that at any minute she might say or do something that would insult me directly. Why would I be happy to make her feel better about anything?
Gram led the way inside. I followed her, and Joe followed me; the horse remained outside this time. Joe whistled when we were in the entryway; it was decorated with a large round table adorned with a vase of fresh flowers. A crystal chandelier hung above the table, and even though it wasn’t lit, the sun, coming in from a window above the front doors, made all the small crystal pieces shimmer.
“These folks are richer than everyone I knew combined,” Joe said.
Evidence of the Buford fortune continued as Opie led us out of the entryway and into a library next to it. The room wasn’t small, but it wasn’t so big that it took away its cozy feel. One red velvet chaise took up the space beside the front window, and four high-back leather chairs filled the middle, facing each other in pairs; tall Tiffany lamps were placed in between each pair.