Miss Lizzy's Legacy by Peggy Moreland Page A

lights.”
    At the top of the stairs, she stopped and waited. She stole a glance around, half expecting to see people dancing in the waning afternoon light. Instead, she found boxes, furniture, trunks and an assortment of junk stacked in odd-shaped piles around the room and shoved up against its walls. A fine layer of dust covered every surface while cobwebs draped the corners, giving everything a neglected, haunted look.
    The lights came on and seconds later she heard the scrape of Judd’s boots on the staircase behind her. The combination gave her the courage to wander farther into the room. “What is all this?” she asked as she dusted off a box lid and lifted it to peer inside.
    â€œJunk. Some of it my parents inherited when they bought the building years ago. Some of it’s family mementos and the rest belongs to the historical society. People are all the time donating stuff and mom has it hauled up here until she or one of the other members has time to go through it.”
    Callie wove her way through the piles until she noticed the unusual number of doors opening off the main area. “What was this place?”
    â€œFor years, nothing. Originally it was a whorehouse.”
    â€œA whorehouse,” she repeated incredulous. Goose bumps popped up on her arms as she remembered hearing the woman’s voice the night before, the voice that had called down for her to “Come on up and join us.” She forced a laugh as she walked from door to door, peering into rooms only large enough to hold a bed. “Are you sure it still isn’t used for that purpose?”
    â€œNot that I’m aware of.” Judd watched her from the center of the room, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, his arms folded across his chest. “And what do you plan to do up here?”
    Callie ducked into an open doorway. “Set up a temporary studio,” she said in a muffled voice.
    â€œStudio? For what?”
    She reappeared, wearing a smudge of dirt on her cheek. “Sculpting.”
    Judd snorted. “Sculpting? I thought you were here to trace your family history.”
    â€œThat, too. But it looks like I’m going to be here longer than I expected, and I have a project I need to work on.” She returned to the center of the room and turned in a slow circle, studying the afternoon light. “I’ll probably do most of my work early in the mornings and evenings,” she murmured half to herself.
    With that in mind, she strolled toward the corner room which faced the street. The room contained two sets of windows, one facing south and one east. She folded her arms beneath her breasts, smiling her satisfaction. “Perfect.” She turned to find Judd had followed her into the room. “How much is the rent?”
    â€œBy the hour?” he asked, lifting a brow.
    Callie smothered a laugh. “By the month.”
    â€œA hundred dollars.”
    â€œI’ll take it.”
    * * *
    Judd tossed the check onto his mother’s lap. “Here’s the rent money.”
    Molly laid aside her needlepoint to pick up the check, smiling. “Good. I was hoping she’d take it.”
    Judd flopped down on the couch and stretched his feet out, eyeing his mother suspiciously. “I thought you had a migraine?”
    Molly pretended to study the check, avoiding her son’s gaze. “I did, but it’s much better now, thank you.”
    Judd sucked in his cheeks as he watched his mother’s face redden. She’d always been a lousy liar. “I’m sure it is,” he muttered. “Why didn’t you tell her the place was originally a whorehouse?”
    Molly folded the check and slipped it into her pocket. “I didn’t think it necessary.”
    â€œNot even when you consider the fact that her great-grandfather’s mother was the madam?”
    Molly’s features softened in sympathy. “I thought the poor girl had suffered enough