JOHN AND ROSE
Chapter Forty-Four
August 18, 1931
Cedar Rapids, Iowa
Nadia strolled through the yard toward the
mailbox, fanning herself against the summer heat. In two days, she would be
returning to Mississippi to complete her final year of college.
For a change, she wasn’t looking forward to
it. She loved school, loved learning new things, but she would miss Sam. It had
been a wonderful summer, in spite of the uncertain beginnings of their
relationship.
She had invited him to visit her in
Mississippi, but he had refused, as she had known he would. Sam had been to
Mississippi before, and his experiences there had not been pleasant. He had no
intention of returning, not even to see Nadia. He planned to stay in Cedar
Rapids and make another picture, as Rose had given him a contract.
Nadia sighed, a bit wistfully, as she reached
the mailbox. Wiping the metal handle with a damp cloth in an attempt to cool
it, she opened the mailbox and took out the stack of envelopes.
She wasn’t looking forward to the heat and
humidity of Mississippi, either, she thought as she wandered back toward the
house. For all that Cedar Rapids was hot in the summer, it was far more
pleasant than Mississippi, though she preferred Mississippi’s winters to
Iowa’s.
Pushing her thoughts of the weather from her
mind, she set the stack of mail on the kitchen table and sorted through it,
picking out the letters, bills, junk mail, and other items that had arrived.
Rose was looking for new actors, judging from the number of letters addressed to
her, and John had the usual stack of business mail. There were letters from
both Mary and Christopher, which she set aside from the others. Those would be
fun to read; her sister and stepbrother always had interesting news.
There was a letter for her from the college,
which she set aside to read later, and a dusty envelope with no return address.
She looked at it, puzzled, wondering who it was from.
It was addressed to her in messy handwriting,
so messy that she could hardly read it. She frowned, looking at it. The only
person she knew well who wrote poorly was Sam, but what he did write was very
precise, the letters neat and straight as though to make up for his lack of
skill at writing.
Pulling a letter opener from a high shelf,
she opened it, her eyes widening at the message.
Yu ar a whit slot. Sty way form the niger,
or we wil lin—link—lynh—strung him up.
The letter was unsigned. Nadia stared at it,
appalled and a little amused. Several words were crossed out, and whoever had
written it couldn’t spell. Still, the message was clear. Someone disapproved of
her relationship with Sam, and was threatening him. They had received threats
before, usually from someone who wanted them to leave their establishment, but
none had sent her a letter before.
She wondered who it was from, then shrugged,
deciding that it didn’t matter. It wasn’t likely that anyone would act on such
a threat, even if they wanted to. Few people wanted to cross the Calverts—they
had the power and influence to make people’s lives miserable, though they
seldom did.
Dismissing the message, Nadia crumpled the
piece of paper and tossed it into the stove, turning her attention to the
letter from her college.
It was a mistake she wouldn’t make twice.