Thoughtfully, I swirled the rich, amber liquid in my glass. “Tell me, what was so important that you called my grandmother at such a late hour?” And followed up with, “What was your relationship with her?”
It took him a moment to answer, and I watched him lean back before he spoke. His brows gathered in the center of his forehead, causing the skin to furrow. His guarded expression intrigued me.
“We met about fifteen years ago when I was researching the provenance of a dragon,” Vaughn explained. “I’d heard Essie owned the very last one in that family of dragons. That particular collection was complete, but for the dragon here . . .” He paused to take a slow sip of his drink. “She spoke of you with great affection and said you adored the dragons. She laughed as she mentioned you would talk to them and treat them as though they were playmates.” Vaughn watched me with keen eyes. “You do realize she hoped you would someday take over as dragon keeper?”
I shook my head and said, “I wasn’t aware of that. Of course, if that’s what she wanted, there is no doubt that I will care for the dragons, no matter what.” Unwilling to say I’d learned of her desire for me to take over, I sipped from my glass to hide the half-truth from his all-seeing eyes.
His full attention on me, Vaughn asked, “What does ‘no matter what’ mean, exactly? Are you expecting problems?”
“Not that I know of, but there are some issues to sort through, and a mystery to be solved.”
“Oh?”
“Did my grandmother have any enemies that you’re aware of?” I asked and took another drink of the liquid that burned all the way into my gut. Her written words smacked me upside the head as I watched the man’s reaction. Trust no one. That’s what she’d said. Could I trust this man?
He gave me an odd look and said, “She never mentioned anyone to me. Why do you ask?”
“As she became weaker, Gran wrote me a letter that spanned out over a few weeks. Anyway, she states that she was killed by someone. I assume she had either gone off the tracks or she knew someone had indeed killed her by slowly poisoning her. Even though my grandmother was spunky, she seemed to be a bit on the frail side when we’d spoken prior to my trip to New England. I wasn’t gone a full day when she called me back. Were you aware of that?” I asked and gazed at him.
His fingers tightened around the glass, his fingernails whitened with the force of his grip. As suddenly as it happened, he relaxed, and set his drink aside. “Essie was pale and sickly when we met two weeks ago. I had wondered about it and asked if she was ill. She said she was tired, nothing more. I should have paid closer attention, but since she was elderly, I didn’t give it much more thought.”
With a nod, I changed the subject. “Will you be staying in Mevie very long?”
By this time, Vaughn had polished off the whiskey in one gulp, and continued to watch me. I wondered if a butterfly under a microscope felt the same as I did now while he scrutinized me.
“Sutter’s Inn has held a room for me. I was shocked when you said Essie had passed away and it took me some time to get here. Not knowing what to expect, I reserved a room and thought I might stay for a while should you need my help. I plan to attend Essie’s service, if there will be one?”
“Yes, yes, of course, you’re most welcome. Wait here one minute, I have the funeral arrangements that Mr. Smythe gave me. I haven’t had a chance to read them yet.”
I grabbed the envelope and returned to the dragon filled room where Vaughn stood admiring them. I slowed my pace and approached him, warily stepping between him and Drake, whose eyes were now molten amber.
Unfolding the single sheet of paper from inside the envelope, I read it and said, “The funeral will be held two days from now in the Dragon Family Chapel, at ten in the morning, and Gran will then be interred in the cemetery next to it. Her will is scheduled to be read directly afterward.”
“Then I shall attend. If you need me for anything—anything at all, just call this number,” Vaughn said, and handed me a business card. The phone number listed was different than the one I had called earlier, leaving me to wonder if it was his cell number.
“My uncle, Charles Dragon, has rooms at Sutter’s Inn, as well. Have you two ever met?”
He turned his gaze toward the cabinet filled with dragons and said, “No, I’ve never had the pleasure.”
A snort was my only response to his lie and his focus returned to me. Dang.
“Should I be acquainted with your uncle?”
“How the hell would I know? It simply occurred to me that you’d both be staying in the same Inn, and maybe you’d met him through Gran.”
“Essie and I never socialized with other people when I came to visit. We always had the estate to ourselves.”
Curious over his words and the meaning behind them, I opened my mouth to speak, but Vaughn interrupted me.
“It’s quite late, I should be going. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he glanced at the clock and corrected himself, “uh, later today then?”
“Yes, certainly.”
I walked him to the door, slammed the bolts home when he reached his car, and watched as he drove from the estate.
Chapter 4
Breakfast consisted of scones slathered with jelly and a steaming mug of black coffee that Mrs. Douglas had been kind enough to leave for me in the living room. Jet-lagged from the trip back, I lounged on the sofa in pajamas, slippers, and a flower patterned old robe I’d found on a hanger in the bedroom closet.
Chomping away, followed by swigs of hot brew, I began to wander the ground floor. Sunshine beamed through the windows, and cheered me as I poked through drawers and cabinets before I leaned against the table that stood a few feet from the dragon-filled cabinet. German, Asian, African dragons, and others were assembled by country of origin rather than size or beauty. Each tiny placard listed the dragon’s family that had originally owned them and the region where that family had lived. Earlier, I’d come across a file in the library desk drawer and went to get it. I flipped through pages of information concerning each dragon and noted the myths and legends my relatives had found. Having done some of my own research after restoring a book written in the eighteenth century about dragons, I’d found stories were spread far and wide. All except Drake’s, that is. There was nothing about Drake to be found in the file or in books on dragon lore that filled the shelves adjacent to the desk.
Curious, I rifled through the other files and found nothing. I returned to the room where Drake and the other dragons were. “So, what’s your lineage, then? Where do you come from?”
I heard his whisper. “It matters not . . . All that is important is what we are to each other.”
With a step back, the coffee cup slipped sideways in my grasp and the dark liquid splashed across my pajamas. “You always seem to take me unaware, Drake. Sooner or later, I’ll get used to the fact that you’re real,” I murmured.
“That will be a relief. I’ve been waiting forever.”
I snickered a bit, and headed upstairs for a shower. The fifth step creaked and groaned under my foot as I climbed to the second floor. Again, I became aware of the need to repair the tread, and kept going.
Dressed and ready to face what the day might bring, I heard dishes clatter in the kitchen, the sound of running water, and someone humming. Mrs. Douglas was busy at work.
“Those scones are tasty, Mrs. Douglas,” I said as I entered the kitchen.
The reed thin, gray-haired, woman turned, offered a smile and said, “Glad you like them, Linty. Would you put those groceries in the larder for me while I wash up these dishes?”
I gave her a smile, a nod, and did as asked. One thing after another had kept me busy the night before, and I hadn’t bothered to clear things away. It would be better if I cleaned up after myself rather than expect someone else to do so. Gran had instilled that and other traits in me when I’d come for holiday vacations while my father went about his travels to far off places that didn’t include hauling a youngster along.
“It looks as though you had company last night,” Mrs. Douglas remarked with a question in her eyes as she handed me a bowl and motioned to the top shelf of the cupboard. It was then I realized the reason for the small stool in the kitchen was due to her short stature. I grinned and put the bowl away.
“Visits from Mr. Smythe and Uncle Charles, and then Mr. Vaughn popped in for a brief time. I was exhausted by the time I got to bed,” I remarked as I dried cups and saucers with a towel and then placed them in the cupboard.
Her eyebrows had risen when I mentioned who had stopped by and her eyes widened a tad as I chuckled at her expression.
“Did you read Essie’s letter?”
“I got through most of it, but still have a couple of pages left to read. She was having difficulties with trust issues, wasn’t she? Gran never seemed suspicious of anyone in all the years I visited, or at least it seemed that way to me,” I said.
“Take her words to heart, Linty. Essie knew what she was talking about. Between the two of us, we couldn’t figure out how her illness had originated. I did all the cooking, and she didn’t have guests that I know of, other than you and Mr. Vaughn. I’m confounded by it. At the end, she was very weak and frail.”
Mrs. Douglas had just given me information that might contain clues as to who had done away with Gran. Maybe there were others who had come to see her, or had put a form of poison in her food or beverages when Mrs. Douglas wasn’t around.
“Was Gran on any medication?” I asked.
“None, not even an aspirin. The doctor was stumped by what was wrong with her, especially after she told him all the foods and meats she ate were fresh daily.”
I nodded and said, “I noticed there was little food in the freezer and no leftovers in the fridge. Just some type of beverage.”
“Essie enjoyed raspberry ice tea. I regularly made it for her, and it seemed that was all she drank, except when Mr. Vaughn came by. Then they would have whiskey.” Mrs. Douglas snickered at the idea of Gran drinking whiskey and dried her hands on the towel I offered.
The job done, I sauntered into the foyer when a sharp rap sounded on the door. I peeked through the window panes and drew a breath. Dad had arrived, along with Uncles Charles, and Aunt Elizabeth. None of them looked happy. Oh, boy.
I bade them enter, stood on tiptoes to kiss my father’s cheek as he stepped inside and saw his blue-eyed wink when he glanced at me. A tall, handsome man, Dad and Uncle Charles didn’t have much in common in the looks department, and were different as day and night. If I were a stranger, I wouldn’t believe they were even related, and smiled at the thought.
Tentatively, I said, “You three are up early. Have you eaten?”
Three heads turned in my direction and they all nodded at the same time. I held back a grin and asked, “Did you all stay at the inn?”
My father took the opportunity to speak before Uncle Charles could start complaining. The grumpy look on my uncle’s face told me he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep after all.
“I got in around midnight, your aunt and uncle were already tucked in for the night, and I met another person who ambled in shortly after I did. A Mr. Vaughn, he said his name was. The innkeeper had a busy time of it, especially as it’s still off-season. How are you managing, Linty?”
“It was quite a shock to find Gran had gone before I arrived. It was great to get a decent night’s sleep, though you should have come here instead of stopping at the inn, Dad.”
“I wasn’t sure if you were asleep or not and didn’t want to disturb you. I realize you must have lingering jetlag.” Dad put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a gentle squeeze. Unused to affection from him, I gently moved away and invited the trio into the living room.
A rattle of cups, and a greeting preceded Mrs. Douglas, who wheeled a wooden tea cart loaded with a coffee carafe, cups, and pastries, through the doorway. “Here you go, a light repast for you.”
She glanced at the family members and abruptly turned toward the kitchen to make a fast getaway. I grinned, knowing she didn’t care for my aunt and uncle. I made my way to the cart and began serving them.
Uncle Charles tittered cheerfully while he polished off three pastries, two cups of coffee, and was about to select another delicacy when there was a knock on the door. He glanced up, a look of curiosity on his features. I excused myself and went to see who it was.
My mouth must have hung open over the fact that two unlikelier men would arrive together. Cullen Vaughn placed a fingertip under my chin and eased my mouth shut. His face held no smile, though his eyes twinkled with what I thought was humor. Alongside him stood a cold-faced, stiff-backed, Mr. Smythe. The two men measured one another and then gave me the once-over before they endeavored to enter the house at the same time. Finally, Vaughn stood back and said, “After you.” For which he received a haughty glare from Smythe. It was as though I’d entered a weird zone and wondered how bad things would get. The whole gang was here, and I dreaded what might be in store for me next.
As the group mingled, words of sympathy passed to and fro, and Uncle Charles took stock of the attorney and Cullen Vaughn. His gaze lingered on Vaughn a moment or two before his attention returned to the refreshment table. I held back a grin, but not soon enough. Vaughn saw everything and didn’t miss my humor over the fact that my uncle was a glutton. While the others chatted, I slipped into the kitchen and asked if there were more pastries to be had.
Mrs. Douglas chortled, said she’d be right in, and mentioned how Uncle Charles had always been the sweets lover of the family. I thanked her, and returned to a full-blown, heated argument between Charles and my father.
“You don’t deserve this place, or any of its belongings,” Uncle Charles griped.
“I suppose you think you’re the best person to take on this estate and be the dragon keeper?” Dad asked in a snarky tone.
Uncle Charles bristled. “The dragons should be auctioned off, they have provenance and great value. You and I know that Mother was nuts, and that she thought of them as real. A true crank, she was.”
Slowly, I stepped forward, saw Vaughn’s subtle head shake and held my place. He’d seen me from his stance at the glass case of dragons, and only he was aware that I stood in the doorway. He sipped coffee, walked slowly toward the two riled men, and murmured, “Gentleman, surely your mother’s will shall clear up all the issues you are upset over?”
Smythe was quick to say, “Exactly, this is a difficult time for everyone concerned, so why not cast your differences aside until the funeral is over and the will is read. All shall be explained then.”
A harrumph issued from Charles. My father turned when Mrs. Douglas happily remarked more food had arrived, and he saw me step aside as the woman strode across the floor. She set a tray filled with tiny sandwiches, petite pastries, and a bowl of crisps on the library table, then motioned us to indulge in the repast.
Dad’s gaze flicked to my right and I followed it. Somehow, Vaughn now stood at my side, instead of across the room. As I said, things were on the weird side. The gleam in Vaughn’s eyes threw me off a bit as I didn’t understand what it meant, and I joined my father. A sudden chill had taken me by surprise as had the animosity among my family members. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Charles and Dad would square off, but I’d hoped to have a day of peace before the funeral took place.
My sweater hung over a chair. I slung it over my shoulders, grabbed a few sandwiches and sought the tranquility of the outdoors. The quickness of my actions didn’t go unmissed because I soon found Vaughn close on my heels.
“I don’t need a chaperone, thank you,” I remarked as he drew abreast of me.
“I’m well aware of that, though I did want to speak with you in private,” he said softly and guided me toward one of the woven sofas on the edge of the patio.
The sandwiches were soon gone, I dusted crumbs from my clothes, and waited patiently while Vaughn stared off into the trees. Other than the breeze that w
hispered through the pines and the sound of birds chirping, all was quiet.
“You’ll have a fight on your hands should you inherit the estate and aren’t willing to give up ownership. I’m concerned over who will become dragon keeper. Neither of those two is fit for the job. I believe Charles will take all this away from you by way of intimidation tactics, should you become the new owner. By the way, your grandmother was never nuts, as he so rudely put it.”
My gaze on his, I said in a dry tone, “Let him try.”
“You spent enough time with the Americans to have taken on some of their “go-to-hell” attitudes. Good for you, that strength will be sorely tested, I’m sure.”
“What makes you think I spent time with Americans? I was only in Boston for a day.”
“Come now, Linty, your grandmother told me all about your studies at private school and then at Harvard University. I know more about you than you think,” he said smoothly.
My pulse quickened at the inflection in his voice, which meant he knew a lot more than simply that I’d studied at Harvard. I wondered how much he knew.
“Oh, yeah, there’s that. Having taken on a lot of American traits from my fellow students, I always yearned to be back in Scotland. There’s really no place like this.” I swept my arm out to encompass the estate and tilted my head back to inhale the sweet scent of pine.
Before he could say more, the rear door opened. Mrs. Douglas poked her head around the frame and said, “You’d better come inside. I think there’s about to be a brawl.”
We both hurried through the kitchen and entered the family room. Mr. Smythe stood between my aunt and uncle as they faced my father. All hell had broken loose and Smythe looked like a referee in a boxing ring. I stopped short, stood back from the group and watched as Smythe and Cullen made short work of the argument.
“What’s going on here?” Cullen asked.
Smythe, looking relieved to have help, said, “These three can’t seem to stop counting their hens. It’s time everyone left and gave Ms. Dragon some space.” He glared at my uncle and raised a hand to stop him for speaking. “All this bickering is unnecessary, I refuse to read the will until tomorrow, no matter how much you insist. It was Essie’s wish, and by God, she shall have things her way to the last.”
Dragon's Touch (Book 1 Linty Dragon Series) Page 4