Dragon's Touch (Book 1 Linty Dragon Series)

by J. M. Griffin

  I glanced over his shoulder at Cullen, whose attention was centered on me. I laughed openly, and said, “I was sent to my room more than once for that. I lacked playmates, and Drake appealed to me, so I treated him as my best friend.”

  His gaze drifted across the foyer toward the dragons, Dad asked, “Were you lonely?”

  “Not at all. I had the dragons and they fired my imagination beyond what any childhood friends could ever manage,” she said with a quirk of a smile. “It was one of the reasons I became a restoration expert. I’d found a dilapidated book with stories about dragons, at the library while attending St. Augustine’s. It was a great book, but in sad shape. I was intrigued by the idea of fixing it. The librarian and I talked about returning the book to its original condition and that’s what prompted my interest in antique book restoration. It was the very first project I ever attempted.”

  I chuckled and said, “I was sad that the book had begun to disintegrate and the librarian kindly assisted me in re-covering it. I’d read the book so many times, it’s a wonder it stood up to the usage.”

  “I’d wondered what inspired you to follow that avenue of work. I’d put it down to Mother’s prompting, you know how forceful she could be when she’d made up her mind about something.” He turned to the window as a police car drew to a stop out front. “Why are the police here?”

  “There was an accident earlier, on the staircase. The fifth step gave out, and I found some old bones stored inside. Cullen thought it wise to call the authorities.”

  My father’s brows drew together, his face tensed as he looked over at Cullen and then he said sharply, “You should have called me first, Linty.”

  “If I’d known where you were, I might have considered it, but I didn’t even know you’d planned to arrive today,” I responded in kind. My hands fisted at my sides, I worked to control the anger that made its way to the surface. To lose my temper over his censure would leave me wide open to more problems, especially now that the police were here.

  A band of three, we awaited Constable Wakely’s entrance and prepared ourselves for numerous questions, for which we had no answers. Maybe my father did, but Cullen and I had none.

  “Miss Dragon, Mr. Vaughn,” he dipped his head in greeting before he reached out and shook my father’s hand.

  “Taryn, it’s good to see you. Your daughter has had quite a time of things since she arrived. What can you tell me about the bones, and where are they?”

  His glance strayed to me and my father said, “This would be where Linty takes over. I’ve only just arrived and heard from her about this find. Linty?”

  My father had thrown me under the proverbial bus by dumping the situation in my lap, even though we’d just told him of what lay under the stair tread. I gave him a look, the kind that promised retribution, and said, “If you’ll follow me, Constable, I’ll show you.” I marched ahead of everyone.

  On the fourth step, I shared the space with Wakely who stared down at the dusty clothed bones. He turned his head this way and that and then phoned the coroner to come have a look. “Jacob, this is Wakely,” he said tersely into his cell phone. “I wonder if you’d come out to Dragon Hill Estate and check some bones for me?” He listened for a moment, nodded as people will, even when the person on the other end of the line can’t see them, and then hung up.

  “What happened,” he urged as we stood there.

  When I’d told him how the stair had continually creaked and finally given out, that I fainted upon seeing what lay hidden in the deep recess of the stair, and that we’d reported it right away, he gave me a seemingly satisfied nod.

  Once again, he turned to my father. “Have you any idea whose bones they are?”

  Dad stepped up as I descended the stairs and took a look. Then he shook his head.

  “None.”

  “Had one of your relatives disappeared when you were young? Because from the look of these, they’ve been here quite a while,” Wakely wondered aloud.

  Dad shrugged and said he hadn’t been on the estate during his school years, but at boarding school, and then he’d lived in Oxford while attending the university. “As far as I know, the family was intact. There wasn’t a mention of a member disappearing, dying, or anything else. Our clan numbers dwindled over the years. My brother, Linty, and I are the only ones left now that Gran has passed on.”

  “Mm, I’ll have to make enquiries then.”

  A van pulled up, Dr. Jacob Alder marched toward the front door and I held it open for him. He smiled, nodded, and walked past. “Show me what you’ve got, then,” he said to Wakely.

  My father stepped to the bottom tread, waited for the two men to commiserate and glanced at me, his brows uplifted in question. What he silently asked was a question in and of itself that I couldn’t read. Did I look like I held a crystal ball? Holy Christmas.

  The constable and doctor joined us and I motioned them into the room opposite that of the dragons. The less people in there, the better. The three men walked ahead of Cullen and me. I’d begun to wring my hands and he clasped them in his with a warning look and a shake of his head.

  He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t show you’re nervous, it makes you look guilty. When he asks a question you don’t wish to answer, just sneeze. It’ll redirect the conversation.”

  In agreement, we entered the room. I offered everyone refreshments. Tea was voted the beverage of choice and I scooted into the kitchen, set up a tray, and plugged in the electric kettle to boil. When all was prepared, I returned to the room and poured for everyone as they chatted.

  “Linty, you mentioned the stair creaked?”

  “It had since I’d arrived, so I’m sure it had done so for some time. Why Gran never ordered the tread replaced, I don’t know, but it annoyed me and was on my list of repairs. Maybe she knew what lay under the tread and didn’t want others to become aware of the bones.”

  Constable Wakely instructed Jacob to take the bones and clothing to the lab and run whatever tests were needed to determine their age.

  “It might take a while to get the results back since much of the testing will go to Aberdeen’s laboratory, but I can tell you the bones are those of a woman.”

  I drew in a breath, sneaked a look at my father who had noticeably blanched, and then I looked at Wakely. He didn’t appear to have noted our reactions, but I wasn’t about to think he was stupid by any stretch of the imagination. He was a policeman and part of that meant he was astute when it came to reading people and their reactions to certain situations.

  “This must distress you, Linty. You’ve only been in residence a brief period of time and have had to deal with Essie’s loss, a break-in, and now this,” Constable Wakely said.

  Before I could answer, Dad slung his arm around my shoulders and said, “She’s been brave through it all. I’ll take good care of her, don’t you worry. If we’re finished, let me walk you to the door.” As the men set their cups down, my father motioned them into the foyer and asked, “You’ll keep us informed of your findings, won’t you?”

  Jacob and Wakely nodded in unison and knew they’d been given a boot out the door as if by the Laird. Maybe Dad considered himself the Laird, and if that was so, then I must be the Lady of the Manor. I snorted, gave my father a wry look, and caught Cullen staring at me when I returned to the living room.

  “You look like you could slap all three of them, Linty,” he murmured while my father escorted the men to the door. His grin widened, and I caught my breath at how handsome he was when he smiled. Harboring austere features most of the time, his smile rocked my socks off and my pulse hiked whenever he touched me.

  Good grief, all I needed was to fall for a man I knew nothing about and who was on the dangerous and ruthless side, though he’d hardly shown me that part of himself. Innately, I knew he had those attributes, and I didn’t trust myself where he was concerned, let alone trust him where I was concerned.

  I hefted the tray, fully loaded with cups and teapot, i
nto the kitchen, with Cullen at my heels as I balanced the lot. Good golly, was he going to dog my every step, or what? I’d washed the cups, set the tray and teapot to rights, when the phone rang.

  Mrs. Friesland was on the line.

  “Linty, the movers will arrive sooner than I’d thought. Will you be ready to receive them?”

  “How soon?”

  “They should arrive Saturday afternoon. I’m sorry for the short notice, I was given the impression it would take at least until next week to get your belongings to you. The movers had the packing done faster than they’d originally anticipated and wanted to make the trip immediately. Will that be all right?”

  “Not to worry, Mrs. Friesland, send them on up,” I said and wondered how to get the entire cottage ready in time for the crew to set my belongings where I wanted. I hung up, gave a slight sigh, and then realized I didn’t care if the cottage was ready or not. Bigger issues were at hand.

  Chapter 15

  Dinner with Samuel and Cullen proved unproductive. Each man spoke as if the other was absent, which made for an uncomfortable meal and evening, though I’d expected them to be more sociable to me and to one another. It was as if they were on different planes and I got to the point where I couldn’t wait for both men to leave. I even feigned a headache to urge them to do so. The ploy worked, though Cullen was suspicious, and I was sure he knew I lied.

  I hadn’t mentioned the bones to Smythe, had known Cullen wouldn’t either, and hoped to put off the inevitable questions that Smythe would have when he found out about them by way of gossip. I’d had enough drama for one day and couldn’t handle another minute of it. After the duo drove off, I locked up the house and headed to bed. I hadn’t had time to breathe since arriving at the estate, and a peaceful night was well deserved. Now, if that could only happen, I’d be ecstatic.

  The hair brush felt good against my scalp as I sat cross-legged in bed and brushed out my hair. Dark and heavy, it held a wave, but had no curls. Just as well, it meant I had one less thing to deal with. Most women with curly locks disliked them, while women with straight hair envied the curly look.

  I glanced in the mirror over the dresser as I tucked the brush into the top drawer and caught sight of the auburn glints in my hair that shone from the light overhead. Maybe that’s where my temper came from, even though I was far from being a full-on redhead. I snickered at the thought and climbed into bed with Gran’s letter in my hands.

  Three pages of notes later, I reread the ramblings as I thought Gran had written them. She hadn’t mentioned a book, a key, or what lay under the stairs. I wondered if the steps had a base underneath them rather than just plain treads and risers, and tossed back the covers to take a look. The idea of sleep had flown away and I scurried down the servants’ staircase to check for a closet under the stairs. I smirked at the thought of Harry Potter being in residence there and then became solemn as I noticed there was no doorknob or door.

  I stared at the paneled wall that had a chair rail along the exterior. I ran my hand over the wall and then the chair rail before I felt a slight variation in the smooth surface. I pressed hard and jumped back when the panel gave way and a door popped open. I scooted into the kitchen, grabbed a flashlight from the pantry and ran back to peer into the closet. I scanned the space for bones or bodies. Finding none, I stepped inside, and stared at the wide, empty expanse, thinking Harry Potter would have enjoyed this much space. I found a light switch near the opening, flicked it on, and shut off the flashlight.

  The staircase itself was about five feet across and made the closet spacious in comparison to the others on the first floor. The ceiling travelled in a solid upward slant, which proved a smart move, for an overhead ceiling would keep dust or dirt from drifting over stored goods.

  The door closed tight, I took the four steps up the front staircase to stare inside the fifth step where the bones had lain for God knows how long. The space had served as a casket and I shivered at the thought of how many feet had trodden over the hidden grave. On that thought, I climbed past the opening and scrambled back to my bedroom.

  Sleep eluded me until four in the morning. I awoke a few hours later to birds singing and male laughter floating upward from outside. Another day had begun. Would it be eventful? I’d had my fill of those. I hastened to the bedroom window, pushed it open wide and called out to Evan who dispatched his workers to start their respective jobs.

  “Evan, could you come into the house for a minute?” I asked.

  He gave me a nod and a wide smile. I quickly withdrew back into the room, slipped on jeans and a jersey, and rushed downstairs.

  With a wide smile at my disheveled appearance, Evan stood just inside the kitchen door, a cup of hot coffee in his hand. Mrs. Douglas handed me one as I stepped barefooted off the bottom stair. “Thanks,” I said with a smile and beckoned Even to follow me. Even at my height, the man towered over me, and Jack and the Beanstalk sprung to mind. A gentle giant, this man had always been kind and caring of the estate and Gran.

  I motioned to the fifth step and said, “You’re right about the stair, I’m unable to fix it and would like you to handle that for me, if you would. All the other steps are in good shape.” As long as there were no other bones stored in them, I’d be fine. Keeping the thought to myself, I watched Evan give the step a good going over, he measured the length and width, then nodded.

  “I’ll get this done for ye right away. Daniel mentioned there were bones tucked in there?”

  “They were bones belonging to a woman,” I said as we headed into the living room and I gestured for him to sit with me, near the fireplace. “I was certain Daniel knew about the bones, but he refused to answer my questions. He advised that I ask Dad, saying he might know who they belonged to, but Dad didn’t. Do you know about them?”

  He sat in silence for a moment or two and then looked at me. “I can’t say, lass.”

  “Can’t, won’t, or you don’t know who they belong to?” I pressed earnestly.

  Bewildered by his shrug, I summoned a smile, brought forth as much charm as I could muster and asked, “That’s not quite an answer, now, is it, Evan?”

  His blue eyes were cool, his expression even more so, as he repeated, “I can’t say, lass.”

  I gave him a nod and rose from the chair. “Thank you. I’ll let you return to work, then. If you change your mind and decide to tell me, I’ll be here.”

  After he left the house, I watched him from the windows above the kitchen sink and resigned myself to find out the hard way. My Little Miss Nice Lass act had been wasted on the man. The only way to get the information I wanted was to investigate for myself. Daniel would tell me, one way or another. It mattered not how I learned what I needed to know, what counted was that I found out the truth. As I worked to ready the cottage, I considered ways in which to finagle the information I so desperately wanted about the bones, from those who might have knowledge of them. Certain I wouldn’t get a word out of Evan, Daniel and my father were next on the list. If not them, then I’d take on Mrs. Douglas and see what she knew. The woman had worked here for eons, why wouldn’t she know?

  * * *

  The weekend arrived without any further catastrophes. Evan had willingly repaired the stair tread without question. We’d sat at the kitchen table sipping tea and eating scones, while Mrs. Douglas vacuumed the reception rooms. I’d always referred to them in typical American terms as family or sitting rooms, I finally remembered that in Scotland they were called reception rooms, and the difference in terms made me smile.

  “Your father now resides at Sutter’s Inn, eh?’ Evan asked.

  “Since the step incident, he thought it wise to stick around,” I answered. “Do you think I have anything to fear from Gran’s secrets?”

  He took his time in answering, chewed the scrumptious scone and sipped his tea. I waited, studied my hands and wanted the man to say what was on his mind.

  “Yer Gran was a strong woman, Linty. She had secrets she refused
to share and kept her own counsel. I know not what you’d be wanting me to tell ye, all I know is there wasn’t another woman on this estate for years, other than yer mum.” He slid the chair back, muttered he had to trim the rose bushes and left the room. The response had been so short and flat, I’d feared insisting on a better answer. Those days had to be put behind me now, I’d have to be brave enough to press whomever I wanted for answers and be damned over the consequences.

  Before he left, he turned and asked, “Lass, what do you know about Vaughn and yer Gran?” His words hung in the air as he strode away. Alone, I pondered the question. Having waited too long to do a search of Vaughn’s background, I planned to dive into the Internet to see what I could find out about him and his business concerns. Though I’d asked, he’d been less than forthcoming and I had a need to know more than that he was Gran’s friend.

  When the movers arrived, I showed them to the cottage, and instructed them where to unload their cargo. The driver backed close to the cottage door, and his two men started the process of moving stuff into the first room. Boxes of books, binding equipment, various quantities of materials needed for book covers, and the lot, were set where I directed they be placed. Magnifying lenses and other workshop tools scattered across tables as I unpacked what was brought in. I worked as hard and fast as the movers without stopping to rest.

  My furniture had been brought in along with boxes of personal belongings that sat piled next to it. I had little in the way of furnishings since my flat had been small and was mainly a place where I’d slept. I had spent most of my time at the conservatory, working on book restoration. The job completed, I paid the crew, and gave them a tip for their good nature when taking instructions for moving things around again after I’d decided a change was needed. As they drove off, I breathed a sigh of relief for having gotten my work situated and then I marched toward the house.

  I also felt a little more secure now that alarms had been installed in the house, the front gate, the garage, and the cottage. The property was now fully protected whenever needed and was one less worry I had.