Her gaze broke away before mine did and she nodded. “We are clear, then.”
“Just to let you know, Cullen Vaughn will reside here beginning tomorrow. Together, we’ll stop intruders and keep the dragons safe. I’ll prepare a room for him later, so don’t bother yourself with that. Earlier, I spoke with Evan Cairn, he and his crew of workmen will arrive tomorrow as well. I merely wanted to give you fair warning of those who’ll be coming and going.”
“Certainly, thank you.” Mrs. Douglas turned away and marched into the kitchen. Good thing the door wasn’t able to slam, for it would have. I heaved a sigh, glanced at Drake and said, “Well, that’s over.” He offered no words of wisdom.
A while later, I became aware of Mrs. Douglas standing over me. Her face a mask of worry, she had a hand on my shoulder and shook me gently.
“Linty, are you all right?”
Bleary-eyed and foggy of mind, I came from a great distance and nodded my head a few times.
“It’s late, and other than this small lamp, you’re sitting in the dark. Can I get something for you before I go home?”
I shook my head and thanked her. “Is dinner ready?”
“Yes, it’s in the refrigerator. All you have to do is heat it when you’re ready to eat.” She eyed the untouched iced tea and cookies, but never mentioned that I hadn’t eaten them.
I watched as she eyed them and then said, “Great, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll save these for a snack later on.” I motioned to the cookies and tea and saw her smile.
“Very well, then.” With that, the woman left me on my own.
I stumbled across the floor, flicked light switches in the first floor rooms and reached for dinner. Lamb chops, gravy, and vegetables lay on a wrapped plate. Ravenous, I heated the meal, wolfed it down like the last supper and cleared the dishes before I went back to the dragons’ lair.
Gathering the cookie dish and room temperature tea, I took them to the kitchen where I stood at the sink, guzzled the tea and ate two homemade molasses cookies. Satisfied, I climbed the staircase and went about preparing a room for Cullen. He’d have the first room at the top of the front stairs, this way if a thief broke in or an unwanted visitor came round, he could deal with them promptly. He’d also be far away from my own room.
Bedrooms at Dragon Hill were spacious, had individual bathrooms, and sitting areas. Only Gran’s did not. I didn’t know why. She’d chosen a smaller, yet pleasant room as her own from the earliest time I could remember. Sheets and pillow cases, a comforter, all were on Cullen’s bed, and I figured Mrs. Douglas had gone ahead and done up the room until I realized when I’d searched all the rooms, they were ready in anticipation of guests.
Twilight had come and gone with darkness on its heels. Before night descended completely, I walked the drive, gathered the mail that Mrs. Douglas usually brought in, and flipped through the envelopes. There wasn’t a lot of junk mail, but several letters instead. I went into the living room, nestled onto the sofa, and opened one envelope after another. A copy of Gran’s death certificate lay in one envelope, with natural causes listed under cause of death. I refused to believe it and slapped the paper down next to me. The next letter proved to be of more interest. It contained an invitation to a soirée being held at Bànach’s estate. Chills ran up and down my spine at the thought of who would be in attendance. Good Christmas, another room filled with gaunts, ones who weren’t leery of me any longer, nor frightened of Gran, those who would now try to wrest from me what they required to complete their collection. I had the dragon thief to thank for that. Would Cullen get the same invite? I assumed we’d go together if someone could watch over the dragons. Could I entice Mrs. Douglas to stay? I wondered.
My gut cramped, pain shot through me as though I’d been stabbed, followed by the need to vomit. I clenched my jaws and raced for the bathroom, reaching it in the nick of time. Dinner exploded from my throat, followed by the same routine as last time. Weak-kneed, I slumped to the floor, clung to the toilet bowl and waited for the pain and dry heaves to subside. It took a while, but eventually I regained my strength and rose from the floor to rinse my mouth and wash my face. There was no doubt in my mind that I was being poisoned, just as Gran had been. Was Mrs. Douglas the culprit or was it someone much more deadly?
Unwilling to call for help, or admit to anyone that I was ill, I crept slowly into the living room and lay on the sofa. Wracked with cramps that amounted to nothing more, I covered up with an afghan and curled into a ball. I must have dozed off, for I awoke with a start when the sound of softly spoken words filtered into my consciousness. Frozen to the spot, I listened intently and drew the afghan away from my body, aware of the fact that I hadn’t set the alarm. In stealth mode, I got up, moved with caution into the foyer and stood at the edge of the doorway to the dragons’ lair. One bump after another sounded until there were no more.
“Should we take this big dragon? He’s bound to be heavy,” the voice whispered.
A robbery was in progress, the dragons were in jeopardy and I had no weapon available to me. I returned to the living room, grasped the fireplace poker, and tiptoed back to a spot near the doorway. When light footfalls came close, I raised the poker and swung as though I was about to hit a homerun for the Red Sox.
A resounding thud was followed by an expletive from the second man. The still-standing idiot launched himself through the doorway, and we met full-on, head-to-head, body-to-body. I had raised the poker a second time, but was knocked off my feet by the first man, and stepped on by the second one. He took a moment to kick me in the ribs and swear at me, the dirty lout. I cringed in pain, huddled on the floor with the poker at my side while the front door swung to and fro as the wind played with it.
“There bitch, you won’t try that again, will you?” The man snarled as he fled.
Tears rolled down my face as I rocked back and forth, holding my ribs and sobbing. Well aimed as his attack had been, I was pretty sure my ribs were intact. I crawled to the phone, pulled it from the table to find the line was dead. The rage that threatened to choke me was unbearable.
On hands and knees, I crawled across the floor and then weak-legged, I stood before the dragons. I reached out, flipped a light switch and saw the cabinet and glass cases of dragons had thinned considerably. By my count, sixteen of them had gone missing, leaving twenty-four.
Drake’s eyes were fireballs in his jade face, smoke issued from his nostrils and spiraled upward. I wasn’t sure if a tiny flame came from his mouth or if it was just my imagination.
Distraught over the loss, I heard his whisper. The war begins, prepare yourself.
About the Author
J.M. Griffin is a student of the human condition, wielding the written craft to stimulate the imagination. Like an artist, she uses blank pages to draw vivid characters. J.M.’s Esposito Series includes For Love of Livvy, Dirty Trouble, Dead Wrong, Cold Moon Dead, Season for Murder, Death Gone Awry and the Esposito Series Box Set. J.M. is also the author of the Deadly Bakery Series, featuring a gutsy heroine sleuth who runs a bakery. The three-book cozy mystery series includes A Crusty Murder, A Crouton Murder and The Focaccia Fatality. J.M. lives in rural Rhode Island, a colorful and interesting state.
Connect with J.M. Griffin on twitter @mycozymystery
Table of Contents
Title page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Also Available
Coming Soon
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
About the Author
&nb
sp;
Dragon's Touch (Book 1 Linty Dragon Series) Page 21