Too Big Taboo Bundle(21)

I thought about this. To my surprise, I could not conjure a single memory of Eli swimming in his own luxurious pools.



"But," I replied, "I did see you swim that river two nights ago."                       
       
           


///
       



Eli grinned and nodded. "I didn't have much of a choice."



Eli grew silent for a while. The SUV turned onto a narrow road winding into the steep hill country west of town.



"I don't like to talk about it," he said, his voice barely audible. "The  memory haunts me to this day. That lake may look placid on the surface,  but it's deceptive. The undertow. My mother  … "



Eli was quiet again. I lay my hand on his arm.



"I couldn't save her," he finally said.



Behind his dark sunglasses I could not see Eli's eyes, but tears were  welling up in the corners of my own. This partial revelation had  explained so much. We drove not saying a word. I tried to be there for  him, to show him I cared, but I could tell he did not wish to tell me  more. Maybe later.



We entered a tunnel through one of the mountains and the radio stopped  working, which made me even more painfully aware of the long gap in our  conversation.



Eli turned onto an even steeper and more winding road. We drove to the  top of a mountain all covered with green trees. The road kept going on  the other side of the mountain, winding down into a valley. Around a  particularly sharp curve, the road came to a dead end. Eli stopped the  SUV in front of an elaborate wrought-iron gate that reminded me of the  main entrance to the Rutherford estate back in Shiloh.



"Home away from home," Eli muttered. Then he put the SUV in drive and  mashed the gas. We rammed the gate, hard, metal scraping metal. The gate  was bent but not broken. Eli backed up several feet, then rammed it  even harder. The gate burst loose, swinging wildly from its hinges. Eli  never even slowed down.



"Jesus," I said. "A little warning would be nice."



"Consider yourself warned," Eli said.



I couldn't help but laugh. "Maurice is going to be so ticked at you. And I am NOT taking the blame for this one."



Eli turned to me and grinned. "One-oh-three Chestnut Avenue."



"Let me guess. Maurice's address?"



"Maurice's address."



So Eli was planning to pay back Maurice, too. I admired Eli's  intentions, but they seemed a bit on the optimistic side. If we got  caught, he would never be able to repay Maurice and the other innocent  bystanders we had "borrowed" from.



We drove for what felt like a long time, then crested another hill, and  then I saw the lake. Its crystal-blue water filled the deep valley  below, lapping the base of a series of dramatic rocky cliffs. Mountains  ringed the lake on all sides. Yes indeed, this was one secluded getaway  spot-and the perfect hiding place for my mother, if she was here.



At the edge of the lake was a chateau built all of stone. To me, it  resembled a European castle. It was three stories tall, with large  windows and a steep roof. The sight of it took my breath away.



"God," I said. "It's beautiful."



Eli snorted. "Looks can be deceiving," he said. "Just look at your  mother. Hell, look at you, for that matter. A little brat in a woman's  body."



My feelings were hurt until Eli grinned, and I realized he was joking.  He reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. Then he  tucked the strand behind my ear, and his hand cupped the back of my  neck. He squeezed, and it felt so warm and nice.



"Thank you for taking this journey with me, Avery. There is no way I could have done any of this without you."



"I know," I smiled. "Just don't forget me when you're back on top."



"Never," he said, and I believed him with all my heart.



We parked in a well-concealed spot behind some brush and scrubby trees a  few hundred yards up the road, and approached the chateau on foot.  Overgrown forest lined the drive leading up to the chateau, and we  hugged the shadows in case anyone was watching from one of the top-floor  windows.



When we were close enough we jogged the rest of the way up the steps,  right to the front door. Eli turned the knob, and to his surprise the  door opened. It creaked as it swung wide, revealing the faded glory of  the Rutherford clan's forgotten chateau. We stepped inside a darkly  cavernous room with a double staircase near the back wall. Life-sized  murals adorned the walls. Some of the men bore a striking resemblance to  Eli. The room was filled with the kind of fancy and delicate-looking  antique furniture that no one in their right mind would want to use.



"This place gives me the creeps," I said.



Eli shushed me. "We'll start at the bottom and work our way up," he whispered.



Eli was obviously excited, striding across the floor with a real sense  of purpose. But I had a feeling we would not find what we were looking  for. To me, it looked like no one had visited the lake home in months.  Maybe years. But I went along with him, like a good girl.                       
       
           


///
       



Eli found a flashlight in a hall closet, then led me to a hidden  stairwell down to the basement. The bomb shelter door had been left  ajar. Eli flicked on the flashlight, the beam casting a slant of yellow  light in the darkness.



The bomb shelter was seriously creepy. I wanted to turn around right  then, but Eli walked into the darkened room, shining his light this way  and that. It was like a regular living room from a home in the 1960s,  with brightly colored furniture and shag carpeting, but the walls were  lined with gallon cans of every kind of preserved food you could  imagine. I nearly gagged when I saw the gallon of potted meat. It was  all so weird. I couldn't imagine being stuck in this place, eating all  that old food. I might have to take my chances with the bomb.



"Nothing's changed since I was a kid," Eli said.



Eli made a sweep of the bomb-shelter living room, then the kitchen and  three modest bedrooms. I trailed close behind, trying not to bump into  things.



"Let's check the other floors," he said.



We did. We saw a tasteful parlor and a library with floor-to-ceiling  bookshelves. I pulled out one of the books, and its pages crumbled in my  fingers.



The dining room was big as a banquet hall, and there was a fully stocked kitchen, but no recent signs of human presence.



Leaving behind the ground level, we ascended the staircase to the second  and third floors, entering the bedrooms one by one, with their  overstuffed beds, chests-of-drawers of dark and rich-smelling wood. We  found miscellaneous items of furniture that varied from one room to the  next, but still no evidence that a real-live person had occupied any of  these rooms in years. The entire chateau was like a very expensive an  exquisitely preserved dollhouse.



Eli and I came to the second-to-last door. Eli paused in front of the  door, then skipped it and entered the final room at the end of the hall.  His decision to bypass the door puzzled me, but I said nothing. We  walked inside a bedroom that was larger and more opulent than all the  rest. This was clearly the master suite. Still, though, it was deserted.



As we left, Eli shut the door behind him, then turned to face the door  he had passed over moments before. Something was holding him back. I  placed my hand on his shoulder and felt him trembling ever so faintly.  "What is it, Eli?" I asked.



"My mother's room," he said, not moving.



"Let me," I said. "I'll go in. You stay here."



Eli took a deep breath, but he didn't step aside. Instead, he opened the  door and walked in, electing to confront his demons. Late-afternoon  sunlight was shafting through a west-facing window, illuminating the  small but tasteful room. There was a canopy bed and a small wooden desk,  and a rocking chair beside a window overlooking the lake. I imagined  Eli as a small child being rocked to sleep by his mother.



"We searched the whole house," Eli said. "There's nowhere else. I  …  I need to think."



"There, there," I said, guiding Eli to sit on the edge of the bed. His  body seemed drained of its power, and he sat without protest. I could  tell his mind was torn between two conflicting thoughts-of my mother's  whereabouts, and memories of his own mother, long dead.



"She was very beautiful, you know," he said. "I remember her face so  clearly-her smile, the way she laughed. I was always doing little things  to make her smile. When she died it's like a piece of me died, too."



I was sitting next to Eli on his mother's bed. I hugged his waist, and  he held me in his arms. I looked up and saw there were tears in his  eyes. I wiped one from his cheek. For some reason, my simple action made  him smile through his sadness. He touched my forehead, brushing my hair  out of my eyes just as he had done earlier in the truck, again tucking  the loose strand behind my ear. I loved the gentle touch of Eli's  fingertips.