Hearts Through Time

THIRTEEN

Nick didn't tell Abby the time of his appointment with Cassandra; he just made an excuse to leave the building. Abby would probably know anyway. She was very intelligent.

During the drive to the nursing home, he wondered why Cassandra wanted to see him. The old woman definitely hid something from him. With a heavy heart, he prayed it didn't have anything to do with Abby's death. He couldn't stop thinking about the conversation where she'd wondered if solving her murder would force her to pass over. Yet he knew Cassandra must have something important to say, and he felt he needed to hear it.

When Nick walked into Cassandra's room, he thought he'd stepped back in time. If the television hadn't been on in the corner of her room, he would have thought he was in 1912. Cassandra wore an old-fashioned dress similar to Abby's, only made of cream-colored fabric and lace. The older woman's hair was piled on her head, but she didn't wear a hat.

Tiny hairs on the back of Nick's neck rose as a sense of eeriness crept over him. Something wasn't right.

"Hello, Mrs. Westland," he said.

The elderly woman looked from the window to him, her expression full of sorrow.

"Thank you for coming and granting a dying woman's last request."

He frowned. Vanessa hadn't told him her great-grandmother was dying. Then again, Cassandra was one hundred eighteen years old. Any day she could keel over.

"Why would you want to see me before you die?"

She motioned him closer. There were no other chairs in the room tonight, so he knelt beside her. She lifted a frail hand and placed it on his shoulder.

"I don't believe in spirits," she began with a shaky voice. "But when you were here the other day, I think my eyes played tricks on me a few times. Off and on during our conversation, I thought I saw a woman by your side. She knelt beside you." Cassandra waved her hand from her styled hair to the bottom of her long dress. "She was dressed like me."

Nick swallowed hard. Perhaps Cassandra was closer to death's door and that's why she was allowed to see Abby.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to tell you a bit about my life," she said.

"Please do. I'm very interested." His leg cramped from the crouched position, but he didn't dare move.

"Times were hard for women back in the early 1900s. We were not taken seriously. Most men didn't comprehend that a woman could actually think for herself. Then again, not many women wanted to because they were used to men doing it for them." She thumped her fist against her chest. "I could think for myself. I knew what I wanted out of life, and I was tired of living like a pauper and being ignored."

"I'm sure you were, Mrs. Westland."

"A lot of people accused me of taking advantage of men." She grinned at Nick almost wickedly. "I was quite the looker back in my day. Why, I was even lovelier than Vanessa, and she's a model."

He nodded. "From the pictures I've seen of you as a young woman, I agree. You were very beautiful."

She played with the gold locket that hung from a long chain around her neck, and turned to stare at the bare wall. "You probably know by now that I was engaged to Anthony Carlisle."

"Yes, ma'am. In fact, it was brought to my attention just yesterday."

"Most people thought I had used Anthony for his money. He bought me things all the time. He was the one who gave me the building, which we turned into Cassie's Gems, my jewelry company. Of course, after the stock-market crash of 1929, the store went under. We only kept a small portion of the business. We turned the building into office space after that, which you have probably already surmised." She glanced down at the heart-shaped locket hanging on her chest. "My finances were in better shape after that. But not once did I use Anthony for his money."