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“What?”
He just laughed and ignored my question. “Ellie, I’m not sure if you realize this, but your father was very highly regarded. His expertise on the Lost Colony was world renowned.”
I knew he’d been important as the head park ranger here, but I hadn’t realized that he’d had a reputation off the site. “Really?”
He nodded and wrote on some paperwork, silent for several seconds. “Not just your father. Your mother too, before her death.” Steven handed a young woman his clipboard and took several steps toward a small timber-post house. “Your father was brilliant. We were sorry to see him go.”
I stepped over an exposed tree root as I followed. “It was hard on Daddy when he began losing his memories. For a man who valued intelligence and education so highly, it was difficult for him to accept.”
Steven stopped and swung his gaze to my face. “We’d lost him several years before that, Ellie. We lost him when your mother died.”
I blinked, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Your father traveled and delivered lectures about the first English colonies, particularly the ones in North Carolina. He was greatly sought after.”
I vaguely remembered him traveling, but I’d never thought about the fact that he’d stopped doing so after Momma’s death. “He must not have wanted to leave me.”
“I thought so too at first, but about a year after she died, I invited him to a conference that was being held in Chapel Hill. I understood his fear of leaving you, but the conference was close enough that he could attend for just the day and even bring you along. My wife was going to be there, and she offered to watch you. John knew Margaret well, but he still stubbornly refused.” Steven paused and looked out into the trees. “I drove up to Manteo and took your father out to dinner. We all knew how much he loved your mother, so I suspected that he was still grieving. I thought perhaps I could convince him that he still had a purpose in life. That your mother would want him to continue doing what he loved and that we still needed his expertise.
“He drank too much that night, and I encouraged it in the hopes that it might help me change his mind, but it only made him melancholy. He told me that your mother’s death was his fault. That the colony had killed her, and he would never lecture about it again. His answer made no sense to me, but when I asked him what he meant the next day, he refused to elaborate.”
“But Myra told me the police suspected that Momma was killed by a man who was mad at Daddy over some zoning issue that was brought to the council.”
“I’m sorry to dredge up bad memories, Ellie. I only know what your father told me.”
“Thank you. Daddy kept so much hidden from me and now that he’s gone, I’m trying to piece together anything and everything I can. Especially about the Lost Colony.”
He took a step toward Ananias’s hut, then stopped and turned to face me. “There is something else, but it never came to anything.”
My eyes widened in anticipation.
His mouth pursed, and I could tell he was struggling with whether to continue.
“Please, Steven. If you know anything, I’m eager to hear it. No matter how inconsequential it may seem.”
“That’s what worries me about telling you. You just lost your father, and I don’t want to reopen old wounds from your mother’s death.”
I grabbed his arm before I realized what I was doing. “Anything you can tell me would be helpful. Please. I’ve been having dreams about her death, and the events play out differently than I remember them. I need to know what happened.”
He sighed and put his hand over mine. “Of course, Ellie. If it involves your parents, you have a right to know.” He stared into my eyes. “Your mother called me a week before her death, which was unusual. She was an archaeologist, although the only digs she had worked on in quite some time were the rare excavations on the Raleigh grounds. She spent most of her time at the foundation doing paperwork and publicity on site, which aggravated her to no end at times. I usually only talked to her when she was with your father.”
“Why did she call you?”
He took a deep breath. “She told me that she’d stumbled upon something, a private collection that she suspected had been stolen. She’d been invited to view it but had to sign a nondisclosure agreement before she was given access. She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, of course, but she wanted to discuss the situation with someone who was knowledgeable in the field without worrying your father. She said the collection contained English and Native American antiquities. When I pressed her, she admitted that she suspected there were objects from both Roanoke colonies.”
“Bothcolonies?”
“Yes, Sir Ralph Lane’s fort from 1586 as well as the infamous Lost Colony.”
I leaned against a tree. “Wow.”
“We ended the call with her planning to come to Chapel Hill and Duke the next week to search the libraries at both campuses. But days before I was supposed to meet her at Duke, I heard about her death. I immediately contacted the Manteo police.”
My breath caught. “You think the collection had something to do with her death?”
“I thought it was suspicious, but when the police investigated, they couldn’t find any information about any such meeting or collection, and no one at the foundation knew anything about it.”
I bristled. “Do you think she made it up?”
