The room sat at the back of the house, and afforded a clear view of the yard and property beyond the wall. I stepped close, peered out, and watched the dim shape of a man slip behind one tree to another until he disappeared from sight. Who was that? The same watcher as before? My temper soared, I rushed downstairs and out the back door, where I scrambled over the patio steps and yelled, “You come out of those woods right now, do you hear me? Be a man and face me, dammit.” I whirled in a half circle, waiting to see what would happen.
I repeated what I’d said and peered into the woods again. The only sound I heard was the wind as it sighed through the pine trees, nothing more. Well, damn. I stamped my foot and called out “You’re nothing but a chicken shit, you know that, right?”
“I am not,” Cullen said from behind me.
I stiffened, turned toward him and asked sharply, “When did you arrive?”
Just about five minutes ago, I’ve been waiting for you to answer the front door. Who were you swearing at, lass?”
“Some sonofabitch has been spying on me. I caught sight of him earlier today and then again just now. I challenged him to face me, but he’s a chicken shit and refuses to come out of hiding. Honest to Christmas, I’ve about had enough of this cloak and dagger stuff.” I stamped my foot once more and saw a sparkle enter Cullen’s eyes as a smile crossed his face.
“You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”
Embarrassed by his response to my actions, I shook my head, sighed, and invited him indoors.
“You must think I’ve lost my mind, and its early days yet. I’ve been a dragon keeper for less than a week, and I’m already paranoid. Geesh.”
“At times, paranoia can be good, other times, not. Pick your moments carefully,” Cullen said with a smile and brushed dust from my shoulder. “Have you been rolling around in the dustbin?
“I suppose you’re right, and no I haven’t been in the dustbin.” I chuckled at the thought of what a sight I must be to this well-dressed man who never had a hair out of place.
“Other than chasing peeping Toms, what have you been doing since I left?”
“I’ve gotten into the oak room upstairs and started to give it a good clean. I searched through much of the stuff this morning and again this afternoon, but the dust and dirt got the better of me. Want to take a look?”
He nodded, followed me up the front staircase and along the hallway into the oak room. “Where was the key?”
“It fell out of one of Gran’s photo albums. I wasn’t sure it was the key I was looking for, but tried it anyway, and it worked. One problem solved.”
He glanced about, stared at the window and then asked, “Have you found the book?”
“Unfortunately not. I haven’t a clue as to where I should look next if it isn’t in here. It’s annoying the daylights out of me.”
“From the sound of your tantrum in the yard, I would think you’re past annoyed. No wonder the watcher doesn’t want to come forward.”
“If I catch that idiot, he’d better be prepared for trouble. Why would anyone skulk around?”
“To intimidate you? To keep an eye on you? Make you feel threatened? The possibilities are endless. Instead of flying into anger, take your time, and approach the situation with a strategy.”
His words made sense. Anger over the watcher roiled in the pit of my stomach, and I didn’t know if I could be strategic. I smiled, said I’d give it a try and headed for the door with Cullen not far behind.
Drinks on the patio went well as we relaxed a bit. The night air was cool, the wind chilling, and I was glad I’d donned a sweater. Silence, other than the constant sigh of wind in the trees, was comforting.
“Have you had any other visitors or phone calls?” Cullen asked suddenly.
“No visitors, and I haven’t checked the phone. I’ve been so busy, it didn’t even enter my mind. I think Mrs. Douglas would have mentioned it if there’d been any calls. My father is out of town, he’s in London for a few days.”
“Ah, yes, he is. What do you know about your father’s work?” Cullen asked softly.
Antennae-like, the hairs on my arms popped up and I gawked at him. “He says he’s not an adventurer, but a finder-of-things.” I chuckled, shrugged and said, “Same difference if you ask me.”
“You might find he’s a lot more than either of those, Linty. Tread carefully,” he warned.
“Meaning?”
“I heard he’s connected to the government. How true it is, I wouldn’t know, but the person who mentioned it is fairly reliable.”
“The government? As in Scotland Yard or MI5? That kind of government? Or would it be in the antiquities field, like recovering artifacts stolen by the Germans in WWII?”
“I don’t know,” Cullen denied.
Yeah, right, as if he didn’t know everything about me and my family. I bet he even knew what brand of toilet paper we used. Ugh. He probably had a dossier on each of us. I needed to research him right along with the gaunts.
In a quiet tone, I remarked, “If you want me to trust you, Cullen, you might try being a bit more honest. This vagueness is quite off-putting.”
The phone rang, and I rose to answer it. Saved by the bell, I glanced over my shoulder at the man.
He inclined his head, stared at me for a moment and then said, “I should be going, we’ll talk again tomorrow. Take care, Linty.” He kissed my cheek and then brushed his lips over mine, leaving a warm sensation behind that went from the top of my head to the soles of my feet.
The caller was insistent and I rushed indoors to answer as Cullen left the estate.
“Hello?”
The connection was scratchy and then my father’s voice came across the line. “Linty, it’s Dad. I wanted to call and say I’ll be in London a few more days on business. I didn’t want you to worry when I didn’t show up tomorrow as planned.”
He’d never shown up as planned, so why would I worry now? I didn’t say it aloud, but clamped my mouth shut before the words could tumble out.
“Mm, hmm.”
“Don’t be angry,” he said.
“I’m not. I’ve been quite busy and figured you’d come back when you could. I have to address my book business, so I understand things don’t always go as planned.” My response sounded censured, even to me, but hey, what did I care? He would think what he wanted, if he cared at all about what might be a rough transition for me, his only child. I tucked feelings of discontent far away in a box at the back of my mind and locked it.
A hefty sigh came across the line. “Have there been any problems?”
“I had a visitor today, but I dispatched him in no time. There will be no messing around with the dragons, and I said as much. I think he got the message. Are you worried about who might drop by?”
“It’s likely you’ll have more of the same. We can only hope your visitor will take that refusal back to the others. Who was it?”
He waited for some type of response, I answered, “His name is Turnstill. A gaunt looking man who appeared as though he’d be better off six feet under. Creepy sort of fellow.”
The silence was brief before Dad said, “You didn’t allow him in the house, did you?”
“No one looking for dragons comes inside. They will never get to see the layout of the house, where the dragons sit, or how easily they can get to them.”
“Good girl. Now, about this Vaughn character . . .” Dad began.
My interruption was swift and to the point. “Don’t tell me to beware of him, Dad. I need someone to watch my back and he’ll do nicely for the moment. Give it a rest, will you?”
“There’s no reason to be defensive. I was merely going to tell you about his past and what I’d heard about him.”
I smiled, and nearly laughed at the absurdity of it since Cullen had done the same thing about Dad. “Get it over with then. You won’t let it rest until you’ve had your say.”
“You’re in a downright foul mood, aren’t you?” Dad asked.
“Having been in absentia most of my life, you really know nothing about me or my moods, Dad, so get to the point. I’ve got work to do before it gets too late.”
“Fine. Your best friend, Vaughn, is a collector, just like the others. The only difference being, he’s very cunning. I believe he befriended Mother in order to get to the dragons. He may have been involved with her death.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dad. He came to know her better than you and I did in her last years. Gran trusted him more than anyone. They first met because he was doing research on some dragons and he knew she had a slew of them. Even in her most paranoid state, she thought of him as a good friend. She even said so in the letter she left me.”
“How accurate were her feelings, Linty? Like you said, she wasn’t quite herself, being ill and unsound of mind.”
My hackles rose as my temper flared. “I never said she was unsound. She was ill, that’s all I knew. Good Christmas, I didn’t even know how ill, or I’d have been here. Why weren’t you?”
“Must we go over old territory again? How many times will you remind me of my lack of attention to family matters?” Dad asked in a weary tone.
“Family matters? That’s what you call it? I call it lack of caring enough to be bothered. Or, how about this, we, your very own flesh and blood, weren’t important enough to take time away from your precious work to see what was happening.” I was yelling by this time and knew I’d lost any advantage I had of winning the argument. Dad was right, I had to get over my resentment where his family duties were concerned. I’d work harder on that score, but was angered beyond reason over the way he’d left his mother to be murdered for want of dragons. Nothing could mollify me over that.
“Calm down,” he said.
“You calm down,” I retorted and hung up.
Filled with anger, resentment, and sorrow for Gran’s death, I stomped around the room. Didn’t anyone, other than me, care enough about Gran to deeply feel her loss? I plunked down in a chair near Drake and muttered as much while tears streamed down my cheeks and dripped onto my sweater.
His eyes glowed, I thought his tail twitched, and a whisper came to me. “You and I will mourn her as no one else ever could. We will meet the coming challenges together. You must find the book.”
“I agree with you on all counts, Drake. We will succeed where others have failed, and they’ll rue the day for having messed about with Gran.” I leaped up, stroked his jade scales, and allowed my fingers to play over his talons. A puff of smoke rose from his nostrils as he fell silent, and his eyes dimmed. Would Drake help me find Gran’s murderer if I told him he’d never be free? Wary of taking the chance, I took the coward’s way out by not sharing that information with him. I vowed to never tell this marvelous creature that he would be locked within his jade body forever.
Chapter 11
After a sleepless night, I slipped from under the covers and dressed as dawn peaked over the horizon. I scooted to the kitchen, made toast, and with a slice of it hanging from my mouth and a cup of coffee in hand, I went upstairs into the oak room. A petite table sat huddled in the far corner of the room, and I set the half-eaten piece of toast and cup of coffee on it after wiping it clean with the towel I’d left the previous evening.
Viewing the neat avenues the vacuum had made, I flipped the switch, finished the last part of the job and took the filthy sheet covers to the top of the stairs. The only items left to search were three huge boxes and a burnished oak jewelry armoire that I recognized as one I’d seen in Gran’s room years ago. A decorative key had been left in the keyhole of the top drawer. I turned it gently and heard resounding clicks as each of the seven drawers unlocked separately. There was a set of mechanisms that worked one at a time as the top lock tumbled. When the clicks stopped, I pulled the first drawer open. Long and narrow, it slid forward soundlessly. Beautiful gems, encrusted in lockets with heavy gold chains lay on a bed of black velvet. One drawer after the other revealed more jewelry, pendants with dragon-like eyes surrounded by bezels were looped with artistic layers of gold and silver and secured by prongs that reminded me of claws. Rings, earrings, brooches, the lot held mesmerizing beauty. I shook my head, pushed the last drawer of earrings and bracelets into place and locked the chest. I pocketed the key and prayed I wouldn’t lose it while I wondered if I should have everything appraised. It occurred to me that I had more than enough to think about at the moment and could put off the appraisal idea for a while.
The boxes revealed no sign of a book, or a hint of where I could find it. Damn, this was discouraging. I drank the coffee, chewed the last bite of toast and tossed the rolled sheets down the back stairs along with the filthy towel. Heavy as it was, I lugged the vacuum cleaner to the kitchen and cleaned the filters before stowing the machine into the cupboard where Mrs. Douglas kept it. The washer ran quietly as I left the room and climbed the stairs again.
Before locking up and hiding the key, I put the room in order, collected my coffee cup and considered all the things I’d found. If jewelry was the most valuable thing in this room, why had the door been locked and the key hidden? Another question with no answer. Huh.
I’d made my bed, set the bedroom to rights, and taken my own laundry downstairs. The washer hummed as it spun water from the cover sheets, and I took the opportunity to call The John Stone Book Conservatory in Edinburgh where I’d worked since I’d graduated from Harvard University. I fiddled with a pencil and notepad, and jotted down notes of what should be shipped from both my office and my home office to the estate in order to carry on my work. I trusted no one to watch over the dragons while I went there to do the job of transporting it all here.
“Mrs. Friesland, how may I help you?”
“Hi, this is Lynn Dragon,” I said.
“Oh, yes, Miss Dragon, I was sorry to hear of your grandmother’s passing. What can I do for you, dear?”
Mrs. Friesland, a dragon of a woman in her own right, could be foe or friend. Luckily, she was a friend and we got along well. “I’ll be staying on at my family’s estate. I would like all my belongings and work packed and shipped here if that’s possible. Would you see to that for me? I’m unable to leave at the moment and there is work that I must finish for Mr. Weckford.”
“Certainly. Would you like your flat to be packed up as well?”
“Not the furnishings, just the work, the binder machines and my computers. I do appreciate this, Mrs. Friesland,” I said warmly.
“Not to worry, my dear, I’ll see to it immediately. You should have all you need by the weekend if I can manage that. If not, you’ll have it by Monday, all right?”
“That will do nicely, thank you so much.” I hung up after giving her the address and my phone number.
I wandered through the first floor evaluating the space needed to set up all that would arrive, when an idea struck me. I called Mrs. Friesland again and asked to have the entire flat packed up, furniture and all. She politely accepted the change and reminded me it might take longer than she’d initially thought to get everything to me.
“That won’t be a problem. I look forward to hearing from you when arrangements are made,” I said and wished her well.
By the time Cullen arrived, the idea for my belongings had taken hold. I stepped into the sunshine and greeted him with a wide smile.
“I’ve figured out what to do with the guest cottage. It will become my office.”
He said it was a good idea and asked for coffee, saying we needed to talk.
In my excitement, I hadn’t seen the concern in his eyes, or the tightness around them. Oh boy.
We sat outside, I listened to him talk about the burden of the dragons and the toll it could take on me.
“What brought this on?” I asked while I studied his features.
“I’ve noticed the stress you’ve endured this week and figure it’s only the beginning for you. Essie rarely left the house, her paranoia grew, she lost trust in those who cared for her well-being, and I don
’t wish to see that happen to you.”
“I have no choice. My many times removed grandfather made it clear what the duties of a dragon keeper are. Those before me have carried the load since he did, and Gran left it to me in the end. She knew I could handle it, and while I’m shocked by that assumption on her part, I know what I have to do and willingly accept the responsibility.”
“How does Taryn feel about your decision?”
I gave a snort and said, “As long as he isn’t tethered to the dragons and what the position entails, he’s just fine.”
“You may be right, but would you at least consider placing the dragons in a museum?
I bolted upright in the chair, cast a narrow-eyed glare at him and asked, “Why on earth would I do that? I’ve strict instructions on what must be done and there’s no alternative left but to follow them. Holy Christmas, why would you think the creatures would be safe in a museum?”
Exasperated, Cullen raised a hand and said, “Stop and think about it. You have a business to run, an estate to handle, you’re about to be overrun with cruel, ruthless people who’d resort to whatever it takes to acquire the dragons, and I’m the only help you have.”
The phone rang, I excused myself to get the call and heard Cullen answer his own cell phone as I left the patio. Mrs. Friesland assured me all would be delivered by next Monday. I thanked her for the update.
“Lynn, do stay in touch, won’t you dear?” She asked before I rang off.
“I will, and you do the same. I’d be happy if you’d visit when you can get away. Just let me know the date you’d like to do so.”
She gushed a bit and thanked me for the invite before she hung up. On my way to the patio, the door knocker landed with a thud against the front door. I turned back to see who had arrived, hoping it wouldn’t be another creepy gaunt. My hopes were dashed when I saw there was not only one, but three of them, lined up on the steps. Yikes.
Dragon's Touch (Book 1 Linty Dragon Series) Page 11