“It’s no trouble at all. I hope it will help. It would be nice to have the painting back, it has hung there for so many years, it’s as though it’s part of the house itself!”
“I’m determined to find it!” Damien said, standing. “It was nice to have lunch with you and thanks for the information. If I have more questions…”
“Stop by any time and ask,” Alexander finished for him.
Damien smiled at him, sticking his hand out to shake Alexander’s. “I can let myself out. Thanks again.” Damien shook his hand and exited the house.
He made his way along the path toward the main house. The air seemed to be chillier than it was earlier. He shrugged his hoodie tighter around him. He considered making his way past the swing to see if Celine was still there. The nip in the air coupled with the later than expected hour changed his mind. He wanted to make some notes and check a few things before he met Michael in town for dinner.
Chapter 4
Damien made his way to town, finding a parking space near the inn where he was meeting Michael. It was a straightforward task, since town was never crowded. It was also an acute change from his former residence where the closest city would be packed, and parking spaces would be limited.
Damien walked toward the inn, pulling his hood over his head. He was glad he didn’t have far to walk. The weather in his new home was also far chillier than his old one. He hadn’t yet adjusted to the new climate.
Stepping into the inn, he glanced into the café. Michael was already there, a surprise. Damien wasn’t late, but he had assumed Michael may try to avoid the conversation by begging out at the last minute. Unzipping his hoodie, Damien made his way to the table, greeting Michael when he arrived. He hung his hoodie on the chair before taking a seat.
“Back where we first started,” Damien said after sitting down.
Michael gave a weak laugh. “Yep.”
“I still remember that first night here. Wow, so much has happened since then, huh?”
Michael smirked. “That’s putting it mildly.”
Damien laughed. “It really is. Anyway, it’s nice to be back here. I’ve been dying for those fries I had the first night.” The waitress arrived and took their order. Damien ordered the same thing he had on his first trip to the café.
After the waitress relieved them of their menus and left them alone, Damien said, “So, nice to get out of the house, huh?”
“Yeah,” Michael said, noncommittal.
Damien persisted in trying to get him to talk. “I mean, I want to stay there even if the house is creepy, but it can be overwhelming sometimes. On that note, how’s your house hunt going?”
“I’ve kind of put that on hold,” Michael answered.
“Oh, really? That’s great!”
“Great?”
“Yeah. I’ll admit, I will be the first one who isn’t looking forward to seeing you go once you find a place.”
“Why?”
“Like I said, we’ve been through a lot. That house, those people, it’s just all overwhelming. Isn’t that the reason you’re rushing to move out? Well one of them, I’d guess the other part is the situation with Celine?” Damien pushed for answers on what was bothering Michael.
“Yeah, it’s a lot to process, but I’m okay. It’s hard seeing her with Gray, but we weren’t meant to be, I guess.”
Michael was being very laid back about the entire situation from Damien’s perspective. It was a perplexing turn of events given this morning’s conversation. Damien struggled to come up with an answer, to dig deeper. “That’s a good way of viewing the situation, I guess. I mean, yes, she’s married, but she still cares about you as a close friend. I know it’s not the same and not the outcome you wanted, but she cares.”
Michael gave a weak smile. “Yeah, I realize that.”
“Is that why you postponed your search?”
“Eh, part of the reason. There is nothing I liked on the market either. I’m not going to buy a place I’m not happy with. Besides the situation with Celine, things aren’t that bad at the house. I’ll make it work.”
“That’s a good attitude. Plus, I’m happy that you decided to stay for now. It’s nice to have someone normal at the house.”
“Not all of them are like Celine.”
“Yeah, but they’ve all been dealing with this way longer than we have. It’s like second nature to them. They don’t bat an eyelash. The whole idea still freaks me out a little when I consider it. It’s nice to have someone else around who’s new to the circumstances.”
Michael flashed a smile at him. “Nice to know my newbie status makes me valuable to you.”
Damien laughed. For the first time in days he thought he saw a genuine emotion from Michael. “You know,” Michael suggested, “you could always move with me.”
“Bachelor pad?”
“Of sorts, yeah.”
Damien pondered the idea a moment. “As weird as it is…” he began.
“You don’t want to leave Celine.”
“Right.”
“I can understand that. Like I said, in retrospect, I’m not ready to leave yet either.”
The news gladdened Damien, although it surprised him. Michael’s mood seemed to have changed a great deal from this morning, as did his decision. Still, Damien counted this in the win column. The waitress delivered their food, and he spent the rest of the meal trying to make some light conversation.
Several times through the meal, Michael glanced at his watch. “Got another place to be?” Damien asked.
“No,” Michael said, shaking his head, “just trying to see when the sun sets here. Seems a lot earlier than at home, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, yeah, I bet it’s already dark out by now,” Damien said. The answer seemed to upset Michael for a reason unknown to Damien. Damien let it slide, determined to continue enjoying their meal.
As they finished, Damien offered to drive Michael back to the house.
“I’ve got my car,” Michael answered, “and a few stops to make. I’ll see you back at the house later.”
“Okay, sounds good!” Damien said, standing and pulling on his hoodie. “See you back at the house then!” The two exited the café and went their separate ways. Damien returned straight to the house, intent on sharing the good news with Celine that Michael seemed to be back to his old self.
Michael unlocked his car door, waving as Damien passed him on his way back to the house. As soon as the lights from the car were out of sight, Michael slammed his car door, re-locking it. He had a very important errand to run, but he didn’t need his car. He retraced his steps past the café, turning down the street where the town’s bar was located. Bypassing the bar, he turned the corner into the alleyway behind it. He spotted a figure at the opposite end of the alley. Her back toward him, but he recognized her.
He approached her. “Fancy meeting you here,” he joked.
The woman turned to face him. “There you are, I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it. Damien roped me into dinner. I barely got away,” Michael complained, rolling his eyes.
In response, she held her arms out to him. Michael moved toward her, embracing her. He held her close, relaxing in her arms. He sighed, saying, “I have missed you all day, Celeste.”
“And I have missed you, darling.”
Celine and Damien stood outside his room. “Like I said,” Damien said with a shrug of his shoulders, “he seemed completely different, like his old self. I mean, obviously he’s still dealing with processing everything, but he seemed a lot better than he did earlier.”
“Hmm, perhaps the extra sleep did him well,” Celine said, although she did not accept the idea. “He didn’t come back with you?”
“No, he said he had errands to run.” Celine pursed her lips. “You don’t believe me, huh?”
“No, I believe you, I just don’t understand it. Michael was never moody. He hated not getting his way, but the flip-flopp
ing and mood swings aren’t like him.”
“Maybe he was just having a rough morning?” Damien offered.
“Perhaps,” Celine conceded.
Damien put his hand on Celine’s shoulder. “I’ll still keep my eye on him, don’t worry. But perhaps he turned the corner!”
Celine nodded to him as Michael appeared at the end of the hallway. “There he is!” Damien shouted.
Michael made his way toward them without a word. He walked straight to his room, steps away from them without speaking. “Everything okay, buddy?” Damien asked him.
“Just great,” Michael responded. “See you tomorrow.” He disappeared into his room, closing and locking the door behind him.
Celine glanced up to Damien. “Looks like his mood just swung back around that corner, D.”
Damien stared into her eyes, seriousness setting in. “I think it’s you,” Damien joked, bursting into laughter.
Celine shook her head at him. “Very funny, D.”
He grinned at her. “I’m going to turn in. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my eye on him.”
She smiled at him, giving him a kiss on the cheek and a tight hug. “Thanks, D. Good night, sleep well.” Celine left him to head to her own bedroom, hoping she could sleep. Something weighed on her mind, but she couldn’t identify what it was. Something was off, and that worried her.
Chapter 5
Damien awoke early the next morning, opting to make himself toast before breakfast was set out. He grabbed the first cup of coffee from the pot the housekeeper set out. Laptop and snacks in hand, he planned to spend his day in the library. He was intent on tracking down the painting. Worry clouded Celine’s face. He understood her concern about Michael; he had tried to solve that problem once. His efforts were rewarded with the briefest of turn arounds only to be met with a setback last night. But there was something else, something more. Michael’s reaction to the new circumstances of their lives was not the only cause of those worry lines. Something else was weighing on her. Damien’s guess was that it concerned the missing painting. She must be worried about the family’s safety. Despite the Duke’s defeat, she wouldn’t feel settled until they found the painting and life had returned to normal. At least normal for Celine.
While he continued to monitor the situation with Michael, he needed to make some progress on this mystery. He needed to help Celine; he wanted to solve at least one problem for her. He was determined to find something. Arriving at the library, Damien cleared a space on the desk. He set up the two laptops he carried with him. He opened a word document, an excel spreadsheet, internet browser with several tabs for various searches, and, as always when he worked, his music player.
Music filled the room from one of the laptop’s speakers as he clicked to play his favorite song. Damien strode to the cabinet against the back wall. The first weekend he and Michael stayed here Charlotte directed them to this cabinet when searching for photo albums. That had been before they had discovered that his cousin was not his cousin.
It was also when they had first glimpsed the painting, an identical representation of Celine when she had first come from Martinique. Damien pulled all the photo albums from the cabinet, spreading them out all over the floor. He grabbed personal books with family histories from the shelves, hunted down books on art from the collection, history books, anything that he deemed could help him.
He poured over each one, searching for any evidence of the painting. Damien made notes, flagged items, entered dates in his spreadsheet and typed observations in the document file. He used his web browser to follow up on a few items, searching for additional clues.
Exhausted, Damien dove into a bag of cheese puffs, examining the mess that lay around him. He didn’t have a theory… yet. He checked the time. It was almost 6 p.m. He had worked on the project for close to twelve hours. He was no closer to a solution by his estimation.
Disappointment filled him. He would give up for the day. Dinner was in an hour, perhaps he needed real food. And a break. He’d resume his search tomorrow. Damien left all the materials spread where they were. He’d tell Mrs. Paxton, the housekeeper, not to disturb his things. A fresh start in the morning would be just what he needed to solve this.
He freshened up before dinner, then did his best to enjoy the evening with his new adopted family. His mind was distracted, and he excused himself soon after dinner. Questions swirled in his brain and he realized sleep would be impossible even if he tried. Instead, he opted for a stroll in the crisp evening air. He hoped the fresh air would clear his mind, unjumble his thoughts and soothe his frayed nerves.
He sauntered down the main path from the house, taking the branch that led to the cliffs overlooking the sea. The waves thundered against the rocks below. They sounded angry tonight, a close match to the chaos filling his brain. He imagined the water crashing against the rocks, spray flying high into the air.
Damien tried to push his investigation to the back of his mind as he approached the cliffs. He was careful not to approach the edge. In the place of his queries, a new thread entered his mind. His research into the past in this area had unearthed several people who had perished on or near these very cliffs. Widows distraught when their husbands or children never returned home. Disturbed souls who had thrown themselves onto the rocks below when life proved too much for their natures. Tragic accidents when individuals had ventured too close and slipped over the edge, meeting with the rocks then being dragged into a watery grave.
It only added to his view of the house and property: spooky. No wonder Michael wanted to move, he mused. He kicked the gravel on the path under his feet, staring out at the dark ocean in front of him. The evening air did little to clear his mind. He continued down the path. As he approached another fork in the path, he saw a figure moving in the darkness. The small amount of moonlight Damien used to navigate was not enough to provide details.
Damien kept to the shadows, not sure who he may encounter on the darkened path. Silent, he strained his eyes to distinguish the person. Creeping closer as the individual turned onto the path he was on, he made out Michael’s form. Relief washed over him.
“Hey, Michael!” he called.
It did not appear Michael heard him. He opened his mouth to call out again but decided against it. Michael was hurrying down the path. He seemed intent on getting somewhere and getting there fast.
Without realizing, Damien followed him to the edge of the property. He kept a significant distance from him. He couldn’t pinpoint a reason, but it seemed like an appropriate thing to do. Michael approached an old house. Climbing the front stairs, he pushed through the front door, disappearing inside.
Damien waited a few moments before approaching the house. He crept up the front stairs, peering in the windows. Michael was nowhere to be found. The house was in disarray, appearing as though it had been abandoned for at least half a century. Reluctant to enter the house, Damien trekked around the outside, peeking in any window he could reach. He saw nothing. Leaning back, he glanced toward the second-floor windows. No light shown from any of them.
Where was Michael? The moonlight wouldn’t be enough to light the rooms inside, he would need some kind of light. No lights were showing through any windows. Damien checked the front windows again. No sign of anyone. He considered entering the house. Given the exchanges with Michael of late, he decided against it. He preferred to spare himself another argument.
Damien descended the front stairs, giving one final glance to the house. He shook his head as he found the path back to the main house. Another mystery. Another mystery he couldn’t solve. What was Michael doing in some abandoned house? And where was he in the house? Was he considering buying the property and renovating? He hadn’t found any places in town. It was a possibility. A remote possibility, Damien surmised. The house was in terrible shape. He could build a new house for much cheaper. This left him back at square one. With no solid reason for Michael to be in an abandoned house on the estate.
Damien
sighed as he glanced at the main house standing in front of him. His entire walk back had solved nothing. He returned with more questions than he departed with. Dejected, he pushed through the entryway into the foyer.
Celine and Gray were making their way across the foyer as he entered.
“Hey, D,” Celine said, “everything okay?”
Typical, he mused, Celine could read him like a book. “Yeah,” he lied, his voice an octave higher than normal as it typically was when he lied.
Celine gave him a stare. “I’ll be right up, Gray,” Celine said. After he left, ascending the stairs toward their rooms, Celine said, “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“I’m fine!” Damien lied again, his high-pitch voice a dead giveaway. Celine crossed her arms, a smirk on her face. “What?” Damien asked, shrugging.
“Your expression says it all.”
“It’s nothing.” Celine remained quiet. “Honestly, I’m fine. I just took a walk to meditate. I’ve just been trying to process a few ideas and I’m tired. I didn’t eat enough today. Well, I ate a lot of junk food, that might be it. I probably have indigestion. I…” Damien babbled.
“D,” Celine interrupted him.
“Yeah?”
“What are you trying to process? What’s got you taking night walks around the property?”
He shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. “Nothing major. Just trying to research some stuff on the painting. Not coming up with much.” Damien left his strange encounter with Michael out, not wanting to add more to Celine’s plate.
“Aww, D.” Celine smiled at him, threading her arm through his as they made their way up the stairs. “Thank you for trying. But don’t stress about it. We’ll figure it out.”
“I know it’s bothering you though. I don’t want it to bother you. You just got your life back and you finally have a minute to breathe. I hate seeing you upset.”
Stolen Portrait Stolen Soul: A Shadow Slayers Story (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 2) Page 4