“Well it looks like three floors to explore. Are you up to that much adventure?”
“I don’t know, Em. Why don’t we just take it one floor at a time?”
“Okay. Your house. Your rules.”
By this time, Ben and Steve had already gotten the front door of the manor opened, and we hadn’t gotten out of the car yet.
Ben walked to the car and opened my door.
“You okay with all of this, Claire?”
I took the hand he offered me to assist me out of his car. “If I’m not, I’ll let you know.”
He grabbed Sophia for me, and we walked cautiously through the same part of the house Ben and I had seen the day before. The next room was a kitchen almost large enough for a restaurant.
Emily ran a hand along the dusty butcher-block counter. “Do you think they had a cook and servants?”
Ben nodded. “They probably had a lot of hired help in the beginning. But since Dr. Blackwell claimed to be broke after his wife’s death, I’d guess they didn’t have any help toward the end.”
At the far edge of the counter were glass jars of varying sizes, still full of flour, sugar, coffee, oats, nuts, and dried herbs. Some were so clouded with mold; there was no telling what the contents had been originally. I thought the jars were classy and elegant, even in their dirtied state. I made a mental note to clean them and keep them in the kitchen. I imagined refilling them with fresh ingredients when the kitchen was fully functional again.
At one corner of the kitchen was a narrow stairwell, most likely a servant entrance. I poked my head up through the opening of the stairwell to see that it wound around a corner before continuing upward. I wanted to follow it, but was unsure of the darkness that grew thicker toward the top. While the others were distracted by the grand fireplace in the adjoining parlor, I slowly ventured up the stairs one at a time, aware of every squeak of each step. When I reached the landing where it turned to continue up, I paused to look back down, and then, up again, noting that it was the same distance in each direction. I made my way up two more steps, feeling brave, though I could still hear the others talking about the fireplace from the other room.
Each step had its own unique creaking sound, as though they might play a melody of some sort if one was to travel down them at a fast pace. I was tempted to try, but instead, continued on the path that led to the second floor of the manor. Once I reached the top landing, I could see a set of double doors at the end of the hall; most likely leading to the master bedroom. Down the hall to the left were a series of doors, all of them closed as though to guard them from intruders of the hidden contents that lay undisturbed behind every door.
As I stood there, I thought how much the hallway resembled that of a hotel with a large suite at the end of the hall. It was evident that the stairwell provided access to the master bedroom from the kitchen by servants that were in the employ of the manor at one time. I couldn’t imagine that the other rooms had been serviced from the kitchen since the immediate access seemed to focus on the set of double doors that stood closed before me.
I lifted my hand to the tarnished doorknob. A keyhole fitted for a skeleton key below the doorknob indicated that one could possibly be locked in the room from the outside. It gave me a creepy feeling to think about the possibility of it, and I momentarily wondered if Mrs. Blackwell had ever suffered such a terrible fate.
In spite of my fear of discovering what I might find behind the double doors, I turned the knob slowly. A noise startled me, causing me to turn from the door just in time to see Ben step in behind me.
“You startled me. How did you get up those squeaky stairs without me hearing you?”
“I didn’t come up the service stairs. I came up the grand stairwell in the middle of the hall.”
He pointed to a landing several yards from me with a railing on either side providing visual access to the lower level.
Ben put his arms around me. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I didn’t know where you’d run off to. Just making sure you weren’t kidnapped by any ghosts or anything.”
I pushed at him playfully. “Very funny, Ben. Where’s Sophia?”
“She’s downstairs with Emily.” He pulled me close and kissed my neck.
Caught up in the moment, I gave in to his advances. I kissed him passionately as I pressed up against him. He leaned into the wall behind him and I pressed further. I longed to be alone with him; to feel his love for me without restraint. But reality soon won. A faint cry from Sophia drifted up from the lower level of the manor. I reluctantly pulled away from Ben, fully aware of how close we came to losing control of our passion. But we were parents now, and we both knew we had to find our friends to relieve them of our whining child.
Downstairs, we found Sophia sitting quietly with Emily, chewing on her pacifier. Ben and I looked at each other, confusion clouding our minds.
“Where were you guys?” Emily asked.
“We were upstairs when we heard Sophia crying. Is she okay?”
Emily looked at me with wide eyes. “She wasn’t crying. You must be hearing things.”
“We both heard her, didn’t we, Ben?”
He nodded.
Emily shrugged. “Maybe it was a ghost.”
“Not funny, Em.”
I reached for Sophia, looking for any sign she could have been crying, but couldn’t find any. Maybe we were so caught up in the moment that guilt tricked us into thinking we’d heard her. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.
I pulled at Ben’s sleeve. “Maybe it’s time to go.”
He began to sneeze. “Yeah, I think you’re right. I think I’ve just about hit my time limit in this dust bowl.”
I flashed Emily a look of apology, and she shrugged at me.
“I don’t think we can do much in here without professionals. I can come with you tomorrow when you meet with the cleaning crew.”
“We weren’t able to get any, but Ben left a few messages, so hopefully we’ll get calls first thing in the morning and we’ll be able to get someone out here as soon as possible.”
Emily hugged me. “Let me know. You know I’ll help any way I can.”
“I know, Em. I’ll call you as soon as we know anything.”
They packed themselves into their truck and drove off, while Ben and I were busy buckling in Sophia for the long ride home.
The ride home was indeed very long. Sophia fell asleep, while Ben and I made intermittent small talk. I couldn’t stop thinking about the crying we had heard when we were in the upstairs hall of the manor. Neither of us brought up the subject, but I could tell something was weighing heavily on his mind too.
“I can’t take this weirdness anymore. Did you hear her crying when we were upstairs making out or not? Because if I was the only one who heard it, then I’m either crazy or there is definitely something strange going on in that house.”
He held his hand out to me, and I placed my hand in his.
“I definitely heard it. Maybe Emily didn’t want you to worry by having you think she couldn’t handle watching Sophia for a few minutes.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Emily has never lied to me. We’ve known each other more than half our lives.”
He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze as he pulled into our driveway. “Don’t worry about it. There’s a logical explanation for it. Maybe she was just laughing and we mistook it for crying. Either way, we’re not crazy, so let’s try to put it behind us.”
I looked back at Sophia, who was waking up from her nap. We had better things to worry about for the time being. I had a child and a husband to make dinner for before the realtor showed up. I let Ben unpack the car while I searched the kitchen for something quick to make for dinner. I wanted to be in a fresh frame of mind when I spoke to the realtor so I could make the right decision about selling the house in which I’d grown up.
Ben popped his head into the kitchen. “D
o I have time for a quick shower before dinner is ready? I’d like to get rid of some of this dust so I can breathe.”
I nodded my head and shooed him with my hand. Sophia was in her highchair playing happily with some dry cereal I tossed on her tray to keep her busy so I could cook without having her underfoot. As much as I tried, I couldn’t stay on task when an entire mystery awaited me back at the manor.
Sally Cook, the most well-known realtor in town, rang the doorbell at precisely seven o’clock. Her marketing plan was impressive, and in such a short time, she’d definitely done her homework. She knew almost as much about my house as I did, and I’d lived in it all my life. Her presentation was so impressive; we made up our minds right then to hire her to sell the house. We signed on the dotted line, and a FOR SALE sign would be placed first thing in the morning. Everything was falling into place, and we would be living in the cottage hopefully before the end of the week.
Our morning routine, I determined, would have to get better as time wore on. I wondered how I would manage going back to school like I’d promised my mother, now that I had a husband, a child, and four houses to manage. We decided to send a cleaning crew to close up Sophia’s house to preserve it in the same way my inheritance had been preserved for me. Our intention was to send a crew in periodically so it wouldn’t become laden with dust and cobwebs the way the manor and the cottage had been left.
Cleaning for the cottage would begin today, and I was excited about the packing process. After we would be moved out of my childhood home, the cleaning service would begin work on this house, particularly my mother’s room, which I hadn’t been able to bring myself to looking in since she’d died. I knew there would be mementos I’d want to go through, but Ben promised to have them all packed up for me so I could go through them when I was ready. If truth be told, I couldn’t wait to get out of this house and move into the cottage. I wanted to start my life with my new family, and didn’t want any sad memories to get in the way. I knew I needed time to heal from my mother’s death, but I was determined to do just that in a positive frame of mind.
The FOR SALE sign was up by nine O’clock just as Sally Cook had promised us it would be. Cleaning crews would meet us at the cottage at eleven thirty, and I felt confident we were on our way to our future as a family. The only thing gnawing at me was the lingering feeling that something was awry in the manor. I knew it was foolish to believe all the rumors that the place was haunted, but I had to admit it was something to consider—especially with the dreams I’d been having that included Amelia Blackwell.
Determined to put it out of my mind, I packed the car with the things we needed to assist the cleaning crew. The cottage would be our new home in a few days, and I could deal with the manor later—slowly.
Sam and Hillary were waiting for us when we pulled up to the cottage, and Steve and Emily pulled in behind us. In the middle of our introductions of everyone, the cleaning crew showed up. They began their work with very little instruction from us. It was interesting to watch them work, and it almost seemed that we were in the way. I didn’t think they needed our help, so I talked Emily and Hillary into walking down to the dock with me. The girls played in the grass and picked the last of the season’s dandelions while Emily and I talked.
I looked across the lake at the manor. “It seems smaller from here.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” She pushed at the rusted rowboat with her foot. “Do you think the old widow used this boat to go over there?”
“I don’t know. I suppose so. But maybe she liked to fish. I doubt she went in the house after everyone died.”
Emily tried to tip the boat over with her foot, but it had become partially buried over the years and she couldn’t budge the rusted thing.
“I guess we can assume that Blackwell’s wife died in the manor too since she was sick for so long.”
A shiver caused me to rub my arms vigorously. “I didn’t really think of that, but I’ll bet you’re right. It kind of gives me the creeps to think about what their lives were like before everything went wrong.”
Emily gave up on the rowboat. “It’s too bad it all ended in a crime of passion.”
“We don’t know for sure that he killed his kids. Maybe they were sick too.”
Emily raised an eyebrow. “And they all died at the same time? Not likely, Claire.”
“Didn’t they have plagues back then? Maybe the kids caught one.”
Hillary shrugged. “Okay, now you’re really stretching it, Claire.”
I kicked at the grass. “I know. I just don’t like the idea of having a relative who was a murderer.”
Emily looked at me impatiently. “Then stop thinking about it so much. You will never know the truth, so there isn’t any point in worrying about it. It’s in the past, and has been for over a hundred years. Just leave it dead and buried.”
I looked up toward the manor. A large oval window in the top floor reflected the sunlight. My vision then focused on a shadow that seemed to move within one of the rooms on the second floor, giving the illusion of inhabitation.
I turned to Hillary. “Did the guys say anything about going up to the manor?”
She pointed to the back of the cottage. “They’re on the back porch.”
All three men walked out to the back toward us. I turned my head back to face the back of the manor across the lake. The shadow was no longer visible. I pushed a hand through my hair, trying to calm myself. It was probably just the sun reflecting off of something in the room. I couldn’t possibly have seen movement in the room, especially from this distance.
Or could I?
CHAPTER SIX
Ben approached me at the edge of the lake. I was still staring at the manor. He stepped in behind me and pulled me into his arms.
“Are you alright, Claire?”
“I feel a little spooked.”
He rested his chin on my shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“I’m sure my imagination is running away with me, or I’m just seeing a reflection from the sun or something. But I thought I saw something moving in that center window of the second floor.” I pointed to the manor across the lake.
He gave me a squeeze. “Do you want to go check it out? Make sure everything is okay over there?”
I wrapped my arms around his. “No. I’m just being silly. I’m sure it was just a shadow from the sun or something.”
“Are you ready to see your new home?” He turned me toward the cottage.
“It’s done already?”
“Yes, my lovely wife. I think it’s finally livable. The furniture won’t be dry for a few hours, but I think you’ll be impressed with it.”
I looked back at the manor one last time before walking with my new husband to look at our new home. As I walked in the back door, I was taken aback by the cleanliness. It had only taken a team of five men less than two hours to clean the entire cottage. The furniture looked brand new, and even the outdated icebox sparkled. The guys had packed the widow’s clothing and personal items into boxes that we intended to put in the attic of the manor. For now, they would remain on the back porch of the cottage since the cleaning crew was now headed for the manor.
On the coffee table was a box with pictures in it. I stood by it and stared into it as though the pictures were contaminated.
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to keep those out so you could see what your family looked like.”
I nodded to Ben and picked up the top photo. It was a black and white of a very old woman, most likely the Widow Karington. I could almost see a hint of my mother in her eyes. Given the picture quality and the approximate age of the woman, I assumed it had been taken close to the year she died. Underneath the black and white of the Widow Karington, was an old sepia photo of the Blackwell children taken at a professional studio in New York. I turned the photo over. On the back side someone had written with a quill pen: Fred
rick, 9; Amelia, 7; Baby Lizzie, 15 months.
I turned the photo back over and looked at the faces of the children. Amelia seemed to have a slightly mischievous look in her eyes that made her appear very life-like in the photo. Suddenly, the photo came to life and Amelia turned her head and put her hand to her lips as though she had a secret she wanted kept quiet. I dropped the photo and let out a scream.
Ben rushed to my side. “What’s wrong?”
I pointed to the photo that I’d dropped to the floor. Ben picked it up and held it toward me. I didn’t say a word. He held it closer to me and I could see that the child was frozen in the original pose with her head turned toward Baby Lizzie.
I felt embarrassment seeping into my cheeks. “I thought I saw a spider crawl on the edge of the picture.”
It was the first thing I could think of.
Ben smiled at me. “It’s gone now. Just be careful when you’re going through this stuff. I don’t want you getting bitten by anything.” He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it.
I hope you still love me when you find out how crazy I am.
I looked at the picture again, but Amelia was still frozen in the same original pose. I replaced it in the box, deciding I’d had enough of family photo time.
Moving into the kitchen where I felt it would be much safer to explore, I lifted the top off a white, enamel-ware box with the word BREAD stenciled with red enamel paint, and poked my head inside. It was one spot the crew must have forgotten to look because it was filled with what could have been bread, but actually resembled black dust in the shape of a loaf of bread. When I tipped the box into the sink, the dust crumbled out in pieces, creating quite a dust cloud. I stepped back and choked on the dusty bread that still lingered over the sink. I twisted the cold water handle, and a spurt of dust spewed out under pressure, bringing dirty water with it. I jumped back to avoid being splattered by the muddy water and waited for a clear stream to flow from the faucet, and heard creaking under my feet. I lifted the braded rug from the floor to reveal a trap door, most likely leading to a dark cellar. I replaced the rug quickly, hoping the others hadn’t seen. I made a mental note to call the contractor back out to seal the door.
The Apothecary's Daughter (Romance/Mystery/Suspense) Page 8