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Caution!
Take note of from which book and the approximate location each deleted scene came from before deciding whether or not to read it. If you haven't read to that point of that particular book, spoilers may occur! Read with caution!
Midlife Magic & Magnolias, Alex arrives in town...
In the original version, Alex wasn't able to get into Magnolia House when she first arrived. She had to go into town first, where she stayed with Penelope at her bed & breakfast for a day or two. This delayed a couple of key plot points down considerably, so this had to be reworked during revisions. The deleted scenes below show Alex's original reactions to the town and to Penelope's home.
​
The drive into town was uneventful. Sorry to disappoint.
I’d even flipped off my brights after a few minutes, enjoying the peace and quiet. Large oaks arched up on either side to create a living canopy in places, but in others the trees stood back from the road and fireflies danced in the open fields. It was nothing short of idyllic.
After only a few minutes, smaller homes, at least in comparison to Magnolia House, appeared at random. Eventually the road itself changed from packed gravel to what I was pretty sure was meant to look like old cobblestone. But the patterns and sheen were too fresh for them to be as old as they were obviously trying to appear. I’d been to Sicily and had the misfortune of walking on real ancient cobblestone roads in heels, and what I was driving on was way too smooth. Don’t get me wrong, it was charming, but they weren’t fooling anyone.
I approached a wooden stop sign, like the last one I’d seen on the way in, and crept to a stop. Not that I was going more than a few miles per hour by then anyway. I edged forward and the town itself came into full view, as if it had been hiding behind a cloud.
Various businesses surrounded a large central courtyard, with other roads connecting to the main square in every direction. Small groups of people loitered around in different areas, some talking animatedly, others hovering around shop windows, or sharing a bench in the cool evening. It seemed like a difficult place to get lost in, so I parked along the curb and tried to reach Eleanor again.
Still no signal.
My stomach gave another boisterous complaint before I could let out the string of profanity that was called to mind. “Okay, okay. We’ll eat.”
There were no parking meters that I could see. I even walked a bit in each direction along the sidewalk to see if there was one of those central meters you enter your tag number in. If there was one I couldn’t find it, so I’d just have to take the parking ticket.
Tucking my hands in my pockets, I scanned over the different businesses looking for a place to feed my complaining internal organs.
Each of the shops had a decidedly artisan feel to them. Most used large bright lettering against dark background colors and arched windows to showcase whatever goods were being sold. Where stark browns and blacks weren’t in use, bold reds or pale greens and blues were. Some shops employed striped canopies to draw your attention, while others let the stone buildings and standard block lettering speak for themselves.
One of these speak for themselves type window fronts immediately caught my attention.
L. BAKIR
PROBATE & ESTATE ATTORNEY
Just the person I needed to see. I sprinted across the courtyard, only to realize about halfway there that not a single light was on. And why would there be? It had to be well after eight by now. What attorney keeps those kind of hours? I did have the good sense to check her business hours in the window. Eight o’clock first thing tomorrow it would be then.
Back to the original plan. Find food.
“You need some help, ma’am?” The voice was like gravel being raked across coals.
I turned in a slow circle, expecting to see a motorcycle gang member with a beard down to his belt buckle and tattoos of half naked women dancing on his biceps.
Instead, standing a few feet away was a petite woman, maybe in her late seventies, with cropped red hair and dancing eyes.
“Don’t let the voice scare you, sweetie. The cancer took my dulcet tones a long time ago.”
I smiled, not knowing what to say. “Actually I do need some help. Is there a good place to eat around here?”
Her laugh was raspy. “Everything around here is good to eat. Only the best. But if you’re looking to sample what our little town has to offer, best head over to Kildare’s.” She lifted a bony finger, pointing down the side road opposite where we stood.
I turned back to ask her to join me, to make up for any offense I’d given, but she was already turning the corner. Gotta hand it to her, she moved better than I did. Before my stomach had another opportunity to grumble at me, I turned back in the direction of the pub and started walking.
I’d only made it past three shops before I was bargaining with myself about how much of my savings I could afford to spend on this trip. There was Rudd’s; a wine shop with three enormous arched windows, each piled high with corks the size of my torso. Of course they were props but it made me smile. A nice bottle would be the perfect way to christen a new house, or to sip in my lonely hotel room.
Then there was Margaret’s Market, apparently I’m always down for a little alliteration. But those stamped linen tea towels were adorable, and I adore herbal teas more than most.
Niven’s was the first shop I came to when I cleared the cross section, before turning down the side road toward the pub. I wasn’t sure what Niven’s sold, but the bicycle in its largest window carried an oversized basket on its handlebars that was almost as big as the bicycle that carried it. Like the gigantic wine corks, it was enough to pique my interest.
Kildare’s itself was the most garish shade of green I’d ever seen in my life. Three downturned lights illuminated the pub’s name, and two lantern-style lamps framed each side of the door. I stepped back, considering just finding a hotel room and ordering food, when both doors swung open. Temporarily stunned by the noise and aromas, all I could do was squint. Yeah, I have no idea why I squinted at sounds and the smell of food either.
A couple teetered out. Laughing and giggling in each other’s ears and weaving their way down the sidewalk.
“It’s the best food in town, but at this hour it’s also the only food in town.”
I jumped at the closeness of the voice, almost peeing myself. And wouldn’t you know it? Lucky lil’ ol’ me had drawn the attention of the town sheriff, according to his badge at least. Probably the illegal parking. Or the attempted break in at Magnolia House.
He was tall (no surprise there - cops are always either just over six feet or barely five) with a dark complexion and crystal blue eyes, but it was the hint of an accent I couldn’t quite place that made my insides sit up and take note.
A deep chuckle erupted from the middle of his chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I assumed you were considering looking for other dining options.”
“So you’re not giving me a ticket for illegal parking?” My soon-to-be ex-husband’s voice chided me inside my own head. Why don’t you just tell him where some dead bodies are hidden while you’re at it? I had no idea when that started, but if my inner voice continued to sound like Mike, I’d give myself a lobotomy. It was worse that Nellie’s.
“I wasn’t planning on it. But if it would ease your conscience, I’m happy to comply.” His voice was serious, but his eyes playful.
“I did look for a meter.” Lame, I know.
“We only charge for parking during the high tourist season. It wouldn’t have worked even if you had found it, so no danger of a citation.” He took a few steps closer to the pub.
“Well that’s good to know. Best food in town?”
“Best? Only? What’s the difference?” He swung the door open and let me enter first, but once inside he disappeared between two other men at the bar.
I’m no stranger to eating alone. In fact, I kind of prefer it. It lets my brain download when I’m working on a story. But it seemed the town’s entire population was gathered in Kildare’s. This bode well for the food, not so well for the service or thinking time.
I inched along the side wall, looking for an open table.
​
Midlife Magic & Magnolias, a tour of Penelope's Bed & Breakfast
We fell in stride together easily, cutting across the courtyard. Penelope took pride in telling me about the owners and treasures in each of the shops around the square. “Now that one over there,” she pointed to the opposite side of the courtyard, “is Kien O’Brien’s antique shop. You want to talk about a closed off man? He’s never dated a single woman in town, but we all enjoy a good look at him.”
I huffed and shook my head. “I’m thinking of swearing off men for the rest of my life. Got my fill with my ex.”
We passed my car, turning down one of the side streets. The sudden feeling that I’d forgotten something was almost overwhelming.
“A looker like you?” Penelope feigned shock. “Nah, when you’re ready to find the right one you’ll have to beat ‘em off with a stick. Mark my word. And also, here we are. Home sweet home.”
The house was tiny, but perfect. Two stories, and so narrow I swear I could hug it and not have to stretch too far. A bay window protruded from the second level, which peeked over the small front porch. The lower level was a tasteful shade of forest green, unlike the garish goblin green color of Kildare’s, but the upper level was my favorite shade of greige. See, balance. That’s what I’m talking about.
Low growing rose bushes, heavy with chalice shaped blooms ran alongside the walkway. It was all I could do not to stop and smell them. “I hope this isn’t catching you off-guard. I heard tourist season doesn’t begin for a few more weeks.”
“Well if unexpected guests put me in a tizzy I’d say I definitely chose the wrong business.” She smiled, her oversized lashes fanning me on the small front porch. “Don’t be silly.”
The door swung wide, revealing an entryway that was almost as big as the exterior of the house. Her decor was a glorious blend of mixed and matched shabby chic that I would never try to pull off in a million years. Aromas of homemade apple pie and fresh vanilla wrapped around me like a warm hug.
“Your home is amazing.”
Penelope beamed. “Thank you, I’m glad you like it. The rooms are right this way,” she began climbing the stairs, telling me the stories behind each knick knack and accent piece. “You’re my only guest, so you’re welcome to pick whichever room you’d like, but in my opinion, the Magnolia Room is the best. Pardon the obvious play on the estate’s name, of course. But I couldn’t resist.”
Each of the upstairs bedrooms had small black plaques above the doors, designating them by name. In addition to the Magnolia Room, there was also the Rose Room, the Hydrangea Room, and the Azalea Room. To be honest, I was too tired to care as long as it had a bed, but I didn’t want to let Penelope know my standards were so low. Every fiber of her being oozed pride in her home, and her willingness to share it with strangers.
“I’m old enough and wise enough to take the recommendations of the proprietor.”
Penelope’s face lit up. “The Magnolia Room it is! Let me just show you where the kitchen is, in case you need anything.”
As lovely as the rest of her home was, Penelope’s kitchen was something out of a dream. A faded blue island took up the center of the room, but it was the hearth and mantle on the opposite wall that took my breath. It was easily over six feet tall and had to be more than eight feet wide. Gray wood framed the fireplace, which stood opposite from a double oven and grill.
“Does it ever get cold enough to build a fire that size?”
“Not really, but guests love it. We roast marshmallows and tell ghost stories. Care for a glass of wine before you turn in? Might help you relax.”
Midlife Magic & Magnolias, Alex & Kien's ORIGINAL Meeting...
I stepped from the sidewalk into her office, still squinting against the bright morning sun. The pleasant chime announced my arrival for me while I blinked away the dancing blobs of color.
Leya’s reception clerk, probably in his early twenties and still longing for the few strands of hair on his chin to morph into something more respectable, greeted me with a broad smile.
“Ms. Raymund! We’ve been expecting you. I’m Rory.” He held out a trembling hand, changed his mind, wiped his palm on his light blue trousers, and presented it a second time. “I’m sorry, I don’t know whether to bow or shake your hand or maybe even attempt a curtsy.” Cue his bright red cheeks, and I wanted nothing more than to hug that kid.
I shook his hand and arched an eyebrow. “If you curtsy then I have to curtsy. Trust me when I say that’s a recipe for disaster. And please, I’m just Alex.”
Somehow I’d overlooked Asim’s hulking mass lurking in the corner until he huffed—universal man-code for I’m annoyed.
I turned and managed not to roll my eyes, deciding at the last minute to attempt a non-confrontational approach. But make no mistake about it, my inner pre-menopausal self was coiled and ready to spring at the first sign of attitude. “How’s Clyde?”
“He’s fine. Leya went into Charlotte to file some paperwork in preparation for transferring the trust over to you. Didn’t want to leave something like that to the help.” Asim narrowed his eyes at Rory, who all but yelped and scampered behind his desk. “She asked me to escort you to Magnolia House today. So let’s get this going, shall we?”
Oh no he didn’t. Why did he feel it necessary to “flex” in front of Rory? Good grief. Everyone swore Asim was really a decent person, but he definitely needed to come down a notch or two.
“Me, alone in a decrepit old house, with you? All day?” I shook my head. “Not gonna happen.” Turning on one heel, I leveled my gaze at Rory. “Care to join me? I’m sure Asim can manage the office until Ms. Bakir returns.”
Rory’s eyes darted from me to Asim, and I worried that Asim would try to intimidate him again. I slid one giant step to the left, blocking their line of sight as best I could. But I when I glanced back at Asim, narrowing my eyes in warning, I had to bite back a chuckle. He looked like he’d swallowed a goldfish.
Recovering quickly, he stood and glowered at me. “What is your problem?”
“Alpha male types who don’t know when to stop. It’s not impressive.”
“Then by all means, allow me to solve this problem for you. You can go alone, or you can take Rory with you, or whoever. I’m headed back to the station. Good luck.” He strode out of the office without a sideways glance at either me or Rory
Poor Rory collapsed into his chair. “That man scares the daylights out of me. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“He’s used to throwing his weight around. He continues to do it because it’s been effective for him, so he won’t stop until it ceases to be effective.” I flashed Rory a wicked half smile as if to say, Glad to be of service. “Anyway, I was serious about that trip to Magnolia House, if you’re interested.”
It was Rory’s turn to look like he’d accidentally swallowed a goldfish at the county fair. “Thank you for the offer. That’s more than generous, but I have a lot to do here before Ms. Bakir returns.”
“If you’re sure. Do you know when Ms. Bakir might be back?”
His cheeks reddened again and he shook his head. “Probably late afternoon, maybe even early evening, depending on Charlotte traffic. Would you like me to call you when she arrives?”
“That would be perfect, Rory. You sure you don’t want to come with?”
He blushed again, but couldn’t contain his smile. “Maybe I could join you another time?”
Seriously, I wanted to hug that kid. “Of course. Wait. Are you the assistant who created the tracer program that was used to find me through Legacy Lineage?”
Rory sat a little taller behind the reception desk. “I am. It’s been a hobby of mine since middle school. I’m so glad it worked.”
“You and me both, especially if this pans out. Talk about being in line for a massive bonus.” I laughed, trying to make sure he was comfortable before asking my next question. “Do you know, well, is there any possible way your program could have accidentally deleted some of their files?”
Rather than being offended, Rory leaned back in his chair—his eyebrows pulling together while he considered the possibility. “Weird things can happen when you launch a program like that in a new network, but I don’t think so. File tracking programs usually take up a lot of memory, which makes them easy to detect if you’re running any kind of decent antivirus software. So I had to be careful to keep it simple. That was pretty easy since we were only interested in documents containing the estate’s name. The program was designed to copy those files and upload them to a cloud server, which we monitored. So there wasn’t a line of code to trigger a deletion. Leya mentioned something about some missing files this morning, but she was hoping to get a decent parking spot downtown and said she’d fill me in on the details later. Is this what she was referring to?”
My journalist gut said the kid was being completely honest with me. If he even tried to lie I think his head might have exploded from the effort. And if he was right, and I had a feeling he was, that meant whoever was deleting files was doing it from inside Legacy Lineage. I needed to let Nikkie know, and soon. “Yeah, probably so. My friend works for the firm and mentioned some files disappearing off her laptop. I was curious if it might have inadvertently been my fault, since the program was looking for…well…me, it seems. Anyway, can I ask you one last question and I promise to get out of your hair.”
Rory’s chest puffed, his shoulders squared with pride. “Glad to help any way I can.”
“Happen to know where I can find buy some flashlights? Maybe some rope? That second floor looked a little iffy, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m sure you’re quite safe in Magnolia House, even if she’s a little rough around the edges right now. But if Indiana Jones type stuff is what you’re looking for, you’ll want to see Kien O’Brien. He own’s O’Brien’s antiques. I can call him for you, if you’d like?” He straightened in his chair, his hand hovering over the phone receiver.
“No need, I can find it. Penelope pointed it out to me last night. Wow, that seems like ages ago. I completely forgot until you said his name. But, if you don’t mind me asking…” I paused, shooting him a conspiratorial grimace. “Is he anything like Asim?”
Rory snorted out a short laugh, his cheeks flushing bright red again. “Not at all, Ms. Raymund. Not at all.”
I thanked Rory again for being so helpful and stepped back out into the morning sun, shielding my eyes with my free hand. There was something about that kid. Maybe I felt protective because of the way Asim tried to make him feel small and insignificant. Mike had done the same to me over the years. Not so directly, of course, but in little ways. His career over mine. His name first on all the accounts.
“Freaking obnoxious,” I muttered. And slammed into what felt like a brick wall, but it was only an extremely tall man. “Great, another one.”
“I’ve never been called obnoxious by someone who was trying to run me over. Perhaps the other way ‘round but…” He paused and stepped back, as if seeing me for the first time.
Annoyed as I was at the prospect of being gawked at by another local, I couldn’t help doing my own fair share of gawking right back. “Why are all the men in this town nine feet tall?”
His eyebrows shot up, eyes twinkling in surprise. “Eh? Me?”
​
But I was too annoyed to let my hormones get the best of me. “All the men in this town are freakishly tall. Is something wrong with the water?”
“I’m not sure, but if so I should quit drinking it before I don’t fit in my own house.” The broadness of his smile and the color in his cheeks made it clear that he was amused; rather than offended.
I hated to admit it, but his cheeriness took some of the wind out of my sails. “Sorry,” I began, “I was in a hurry and the sun was so bright I couldn’t see.”
“No problem at all. I’d be happy to meet you back here at the same time tomorrow and let you have another go. It’s not every day a man has the opportunity for a beautiful woman to slam into him at full speed.”
I huffed and tried not to smile. He was flirting, but being mostly un-obnoxious bout it. It was refreshing. “At least your lines are better than the last guy’s.”
“I don’t know what kind of lines he had, but I’ve got a few more. Maybe I can share them with you over a cup of coffee?”
If I had half a brain I’d have more than a cup of coffee with this guy, but all my brains shriveled up during my twenty year marriage. Plus, this man was out of my league by several nautical miles and then some. “Thanks, but urgent business awaits.” I help up the leather portfolio as evidence.
“Headed back to Magnolia House?”
“Let me guess, you already know my name and where I’m staying, too?” I wanted to kick myself in my own shins. He had been nothing but cheerful and kind, and that’s after I ran smack into him. I needed to shake off Asim’s bad vibes.
“Guilty as charged. Your name is Alessia Raymund and you’re staying at Penelope’s. But keep in mind, I know your name because, well, seriously? According to town legend, you’re the first person with that surname to walk these streets in over two hundred years. And everyone knows the second part because it’s the only place you could be staying.”
I took a step back, doing my best to smooth any leftover irritation from my face. “Fair enough. Sorry about running into you like that. I was leaving Ms. Bakir’s office, and not only was I temporarily blinded, I really wasn’t paying attention to where I was going either. My bad.”
“Oh, that explains the surly expression. I caught a glimpse of Asim storming out of there a few minutes ago. Still acting like you’re a witness to be cross-examined, is he?”
“I should deny it but my face would give me away.” I laughed.
“Try not to take it personally, if you can. I can’t imagine how many false leads he’s chased down over the years. And how many charlatans he and Leya have had to prove were fakes, too. He needs a little time for his hackles to settle down.” Somehow his smile brightened even more, revealing a row of almost perfectly straight white teeth. One of his smaller upper incisors was turned just a bit, giving him an extra dose of charm that he absolutely didn’t need. “If I may, I asked if you were headed back up to the house for a reason. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a beautiful sight to behold. But you’re not exactly dressed for exploring that old place. I figured if the rumors were true, and you’d seen it for yourself already…” His voice trailed off, and his eyes roamed down all the way to my thin-soled sneakers. “I mean, I’m sure your tetanus booster is up to date, but why risk it?”
I paused, looking down at the attire I’d selected that morning, not exactly appropriate for a wanna-be-tomb-raider. “You have a point. I should dig out my boots, at the very least. After I see if O’Brien’s is open.”
“I might be able to help with that,” he began. “Sorry, I should have introduced myself earlier. I’m Kien O’Brien.” He pointed to the antique shop Penelope mentioned the night before. Its windows were arched, but in the daylight I could see that the stone around them had been left natural except for the touch of deep black around the trim and the black and gold sign above it. “I’ve been digging through half ruined places for forgotten things since I could walk. I’ll have whatever you need.”
The stroke of luck in running into him was a bit too serendipitous for me. My luck didn’t run in that direction even a little, and my internal warning system had been triggered. “And would you like to dig for treasures in Magnolia House?”
His face went slack. “No one in this town would think of it. Myself most of all.”
“I didn’t mean to offend. I just don’t know you. And running into you like this is a bit…”
“Too coincidental?” He winked at me, charm oozing back into his features. “Leya left a message for me to stop by her office this morning, so I’m going to plead innocent. But you do have a point. Not very wise for a gorgeous woman to go traipsing through dark old houses with tall, handsome strangers.” He paused to chuckle at his own joke. “I’m kidding, Ms. Raymund. Look, how about you let me loan you some decent flashlights, if nothing else? It’s the least I could do after taking up so much of your time.” He lifted his arm, inviting me to come along with him. “They’re in my shop.”
I could hear Eleanor as clearly as if she were standing right beside me. Ooh, girlie. That one’s a charmer. Better be careful or he’ll charm the panties right off you.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’d be happy to pay you a rental fee.”
“And let it be known that Kien O’Brien charged the heiress to Magnolia House a fee? Are you trying to get me run out of town?”
***
It was hard not to like Kien, and even harder to not fall all over myself once he opened the door to his shop.
Ancient treasures have their own perfume, and Kien’s shop was thick with it. Aromas of old books, rich leather tannins, and sandalwood enveloped me. I inhaled, letting my eyes roam from item to item. If the Library of Alexandria and the Museum of Natural History could have a baby, Kien’s shop is what it would look like.
“Is that supposed to be a Megatherium fossil?”
Kien’s hand covered his heart, making a beating motion. “Be still my heart. You know the proper name for a giant ground sloth? Wait, what did you mean by supposed to be?”
“It can’t be real, can it?” Even I heard the incredulity in my voice.
“Carbon dated to fourteen thousand years ago, m’lady. So would you like to be a June bride, or would you prefer autumn?”
I barked out a hard laugh. “Not likely. Sworn off marital bliss, I’m afraid.” It didn’t matter if Megatherium was a genuine or a replica, it was magnificent. “Did you know people used to believe these were giant humans?”
“Truly, we must be wed. I don’t mind waiting. You are the first woman I’ve ever met who knew that. Are you a collector?”
“No, it was a passing interest. I went on a few digs out west in college. Then I got married and my husband hated it, so I eventually stopped.”
“That’s a shame. If you’re ever interested again, I have some contacts. I believe there’s an amazing triceratops specimen being unearthed in North Dakota. Possibly a new species.”
“Wow, I might take you up on that.” I’d been admiring the smaller fossils on display, but Kien’s offer made my heart skip a beat. Unless he was an actor on the side, he was as genuine as the nose on my face.
We stood there for a moment, as if each of us were trying to decide what to think of the other.
Kien cleared his throat. “The flashlights…”
I shook myself, trying to snap out of whatever had come over me. “Yes, the flashlights.”
He disappeared toward the back of the store. Several clanging noises and an impressive crash followed. Several long minutes passed. I was considering checking on him when he emerged with another broad smile eating up the majority of his face, holding a small-ish tan and green rucksack in his hand. “Got ‘em!”
“I was about to send in a search party.” I laughed.
“Organizing new inventory is a beast. Either I go weeks without a single item arriving, or they all show up at the same time. Now, about these flashlights.”
Kien pulled the first one out of the pack. The handle was so thick I wasn’t even sure my hand could fit around it, and the lens was the size of a dinner plate. “Holy crap that thing is huge!”
“You have no idea, m’lady. Oh you meant the flashlight.” He flashed a devilish grin but didn’t torture me further.
Heat rushed into my face, but I kept my mouth firmly shut while waiting for the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
“It’s packing a few thousand lumen. Same goes for this lantern. And you have a few smaller flashlights, all LED of course, and about a dozen industrial glow sticks. I doubt you’ll need the glow sticks or the extra flashlights, but better to have them and not need them, you know. Now, serious question. Aside from the fossil digs, have you ever done anything like this before?”
“Only once, but it was an abandoned factory. Mostly metal.”
Kien nodded. “It’s not as dangerous as the movies make it look, especially in older homes. They were built to last and don’t give up the ghost as easily as newer structures. But I wouldn’t go up to the second level unless someone’s with you. I’d suggest using a lantern to illuminate entire spaces at once. Look for any ripples in the hardwoods, dips in the floors, or water damage stains. If you see any of that, simply avoid those areas. Stay close to the walls at first, and if you can figure out how the floor joists are spaced, try to stay over them if you need to cross a room.”
My hand dipped a bit from the unexpected weight of the bag when he passed it to me. “You really do go treasure hunting, don’t you?”
“Every chance I get.”
I hoped I didn’t live to regret what I was about to suggest, but the first sign of wisdom is realizing you don’t know what you don’t know. The second sign of wisdom is being smart enough to surround yourself with those who do. “So if I changed my mind about going to Magnolia House alone today, you’d really be up for it?”