Free Fade to Grey by Ilena Holder Page A

about that.”
    “In due time. Let’s go down to the wagon to fetch another one.” Royce puzzled what she meant by retro and why Donna would be in it, but now was no time to puzzle over a strange word.
    Going down the hallway, Royce began speaking in a loud voice. “I looked around the train station and found some of your missing luggage. Wasn’t that lucky?” Then he began waving his hands.
    Donna figured out his signal and spoke. “How can I ever thank you enough?”
    Smiling at each other, they went back outside.
    While lifting the second trunk, Royce continued filling Donna in on his morning’s activities.
    “When Mr. Brandenton took his wife to the doctor, I decided to drop by the depot. I remembered seeing a pile of trunks in the back room ages ago. Luckily I remembered the woman’s family had never had them sent back to Chicago.”
    “How did you know the woman’s size and all? Had you seen her around Saint Joe?”
    Royce hoisted the second trunk on his shoulders. “No, I courted her maid when she was here.”
    “Didn’t the man at the station see you taking the trunks?”
    Royce laughed. “Not old Brewster! He’s drunk most days by this time of the morning. He doesn’t see much coming or going when he’s in his cups. I parked the wagon by the loading bays and casually entered the building as if looking for something, parcels perhaps for the Missus. No one paid much attention. I took a quick look around, saw the trunks, and loaded them up, posthaste.”
    For the second time, they headed up the stairs. When they were safely in her room, he spoke again.
    “There were two wealthy sisters, vigorous outdoorsy spinsters actually, who vacationed here two summers ago at one of the downtown hotels. They brought their own personal maids. I began seeing one of them when she had free time in the evenings and weekends.” He sat on the edge of Donna’s bed. She waited for him to continue.
    “One day they decided to rent a rowboat and go out onto Lake Michigan. The maids stayed at the hotel. An unexpected wave swamped the boat and one drowned. The other was rescued by passing fishermen.”
    “How horrible,” Donna said, shuddering.
    “Yes, it was. The remaining sister left immediately after the funeral. She said the family would send for the belongings later on, but they never did. We assumed they were so griefstricken they couldn’t bear to see the clothing again.”
    He stood to leave. Donna stood also, but he motioned her to stay.
    “It’d be better if you don’t follow me each time. The maids might suspect something. Just stay and sort through the clothing.”
    “Good thinking.”
    Royce then left, though not before brushing her hand. Though a slight movement, it was sincere and touching.
    Donna turned to her task, lifting out the neatly folded clothing. Little sachets had been packed in each layer, so the clothing had a sweet, fresh smell even after two years. Donna also detected the aroma of fine perfume. She rationalized that if the train station was completely dry all the time, clothing would be in a finely preserved state if it was laundered properly before being packed. She took hangers from the wardrobe and began hanging and smoothing each garment. At first she felt a bit queasy at the thought of wearing a dead woman’s clothing. But she thought of people who regularly purchased items are resale shops around Chicago and it didn’t seem to bother them. Besides, she was in desperate straits. Inspecting the clothes was secondary. She wanted to savor the touch of Royce, the outdoorsy smell that he had on his coat. Being touched by a man was not new to her, but in this time and place it seemed to have a stronger pull on her senses. She wanted to spend more time with him now that she was getting to know him a bit. Royce returned with the third trunk, and then the last one. He popped the latch on each one and showed her how the devices shut.
    “I can’t leave the team down there any longer. I