He dropped his fork.
Thomas’s uncomfortable gaze was locked on the wood grain pattern of the table.
I wiggled my fingers good night.
* * * *
When I reached the parlor door, the recovered long, black, and gold casket was centered between two windows on the far side of the room. Since I’d been delivered to the property earlier this evening, I’d been yanked so fast back and forth between strange occurrences, I’d forgotten the real reason I was here.
A dead woman.
A puff of gray hair poked from the top of the casket. Standing at the threshold, I bowed my head.
Visiting her body up close would too be weird. Maybe after I saw paintings and pictures. She had taken time to get to know me, so why not do a little investigating of my own.
“I think we have a problem,” Thomas said. His voice trembled with worry.
“You think?” That had been Cole. His voice was so smooth. And the accent was unmistakable.
“You like her.” Thomas’s voice was grave.
My lungs solidified.
“Not a snowball’s chance in that. I can handle myself. I’ve done it for years, though I appreciate your concern.” Cole’s plate and silverware clattered. His footsteps moved nearer.
“I’m just trying to keep you in line. She obviously gets under your skin.”
“I’m only doing my job. I kept her from falling down an embankment. That’s it. And, as you can see, she isn’t impressed with me in the slightest.”
I leaned against the cold stone wall, pressing my hands flat.
“And a cat. She was almost eaten by a cat? She could have been killed.”
“The only thing you should worry about is me throwing her in that pond if she is nearly as irritating tomorrow as she was today.”
“There are a number of other guys who could take her on that tour.”
“Aren’t you curious as to why Ava Rollins gave her everything she owned? I am, and I plan to find out why.” Cole’s voice was final.
At least we were on the same page about something.
I hurried upstairs.
* * * *
A calming shower washed away the dirt from the fall. On the feather bed, a lump poked my right cheek. As old as the mattress was, it was probably rotten. It would be a long night.
With the lights off, the room was even bigger and more horror-movie-esque. Opening the drapes allowed the moonlight in. I stood in its glow for a few minutes and then turned back to the bed that would have consummated a fairytale couple’s wedding vows. Its posts were as big around as my body and looked like Roman columns with added carvings of souls wrapped from the floor to the canopy top. Surprisingly, the soft feathers enveloped me into a perfect body-shaped indention.
The dark lonely room fell away to pleasant but unsettling dreams.
A well-traveled path in the woods behind this house opened to a stream with worn grass along the edges. Tinkling water wrapped itself around rocks as it flowed down to a pond or lake. I almost stepped on a young man lying stretched over the softer grass of the bank. A hat covered his face. A makeshift fishing pole poked from between his toes. Muscles worked in his arms as he moved the hat from his brow.
My chest was crushed from the inside but gloriously full of admiration at the same time. And I hated it.
“Oh, it’s you. Shouldn’t you be playing with a doll somewhere?” he said, his voice between high and velvety.
Grass green eyes. Legs so long they poked out of tattered brown pants. Dark skin and well-defined muscles that could have only come from the working-class. Fifteen or sixteen years old.
“Annabeth? You in there?”
Who was Annabeth? And why couldn’t I place his face or his name?
My Victorian dress draped the ground and showed enough cleavage to encourage impure thoughts from any man. Tendrils of light-colored curls fell from an updo I’d never wear, the breeze blowing them across my face.
“Shouldn’t you be plowing a field somewhere?”
He sat up from the balled up piece of cloth he’d used as a pillow. A look I’d
Thomas’s uncomfortable gaze was locked on the wood grain pattern of the table.
I wiggled my fingers good night.
* * * *
When I reached the parlor door, the recovered long, black, and gold casket was centered between two windows on the far side of the room. Since I’d been delivered to the property earlier this evening, I’d been yanked so fast back and forth between strange occurrences, I’d forgotten the real reason I was here.
A dead woman.
A puff of gray hair poked from the top of the casket. Standing at the threshold, I bowed my head.
Visiting her body up close would too be weird. Maybe after I saw paintings and pictures. She had taken time to get to know me, so why not do a little investigating of my own.
“I think we have a problem,” Thomas said. His voice trembled with worry.
“You think?” That had been Cole. His voice was so smooth. And the accent was unmistakable.
“You like her.” Thomas’s voice was grave.
My lungs solidified.
“Not a snowball’s chance in that. I can handle myself. I’ve done it for years, though I appreciate your concern.” Cole’s plate and silverware clattered. His footsteps moved nearer.
“I’m just trying to keep you in line. She obviously gets under your skin.”
“I’m only doing my job. I kept her from falling down an embankment. That’s it. And, as you can see, she isn’t impressed with me in the slightest.”
I leaned against the cold stone wall, pressing my hands flat.
“And a cat. She was almost eaten by a cat? She could have been killed.”
“The only thing you should worry about is me throwing her in that pond if she is nearly as irritating tomorrow as she was today.”
“There are a number of other guys who could take her on that tour.”
“Aren’t you curious as to why Ava Rollins gave her everything she owned? I am, and I plan to find out why.” Cole’s voice was final.
At least we were on the same page about something.
I hurried upstairs.
* * * *
A calming shower washed away the dirt from the fall. On the feather bed, a lump poked my right cheek. As old as the mattress was, it was probably rotten. It would be a long night.
With the lights off, the room was even bigger and more horror-movie-esque. Opening the drapes allowed the moonlight in. I stood in its glow for a few minutes and then turned back to the bed that would have consummated a fairytale couple’s wedding vows. Its posts were as big around as my body and looked like Roman columns with added carvings of souls wrapped from the floor to the canopy top. Surprisingly, the soft feathers enveloped me into a perfect body-shaped indention.
The dark lonely room fell away to pleasant but unsettling dreams.
A well-traveled path in the woods behind this house opened to a stream with worn grass along the edges. Tinkling water wrapped itself around rocks as it flowed down to a pond or lake. I almost stepped on a young man lying stretched over the softer grass of the bank. A hat covered his face. A makeshift fishing pole poked from between his toes. Muscles worked in his arms as he moved the hat from his brow.
My chest was crushed from the inside but gloriously full of admiration at the same time. And I hated it.
“Oh, it’s you. Shouldn’t you be playing with a doll somewhere?” he said, his voice between high and velvety.
Grass green eyes. Legs so long they poked out of tattered brown pants. Dark skin and well-defined muscles that could have only come from the working-class. Fifteen or sixteen years old.
“Annabeth? You in there?”
Who was Annabeth? And why couldn’t I place his face or his name?
My Victorian dress draped the ground and showed enough cleavage to encourage impure thoughts from any man. Tendrils of light-colored curls fell from an updo I’d never wear, the breeze blowing them across my face.
“Shouldn’t you be plowing a field somewhere?”
He sat up from the balled up piece of cloth he’d used as a pillow. A look I’d
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