The Mountain's Shadow

by Cecilia Dominic

  Tabitha’s was a pub-style restaurant with a full bar against the back wall, which hid the kitchen from view. The dark wood paneling gave the place a snug feel in spite of the large mirrors that hung behind the bar and on the top half of the walls behind the booths. Candles in Mason jars flickered on the tables and provided most of the low light that suffused the restaurant.

  “We’ve got to find a grocery store,” I remarked to Lonna after we gave the hostess my name and the other diners in the restaurant—all six of them—looked up with curiosity. After Robert had dumped me, I’d wished to be more noticeable. The notoriety had now worn thin, and part of me wished I could just go back to my apartment in Memphis, crawl in bed and wake up to find all of it from the fire onward had been a bad dream.

  The hostess reappeared with menus and a smile and seated us in a booth near the front of the restaurant. No sooner had we opened the menus than a young man appeared. His name tag said, “Ted, Manager”.

  “Welcome to Tabitha’s, Miz Fisher,” he told me.

  “Doctor Fisher, actually,” Lonna broke in. I kicked her under the table.

  The young man wasn’t fazed. “Doctor Fisher and Miss…”

  “Marconi, Lonna Marconi.”

  “A friend,” I explained.

  “Of course.” He winked. “I just wanted to come over and say hello and I hope we’ll be seeing much more of you. Please accept this complimentary appetizer.”

  Another waiter placed a plate of stuffed mushrooms and two little plates on the table along with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

  “Your grandfather appeared in town only rarely, but these were his favorites.”

  “And how much is the wine?” asked Lonna.

  I cringed. I didn’t want any more attention, and Lonna’s directness was getting plenty of stares.

  “Compliments of an admirer.” The corner of Ted’s mouth twitched as he opened the wine, a red blend from California. It occurred me he thought Lonna and I were partners. “I’ll give you ladies a moment to look over the menu and be back to take your order.”

  “An admirer?” I asked as soon as Ted was out of earshot. “Must be for you.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself, Joanie.” Lonna sipped her wine. “It’s very good by the way, very smooth.”

  I lifted a couple of mushrooms to my plate. They smelled of some sharp, salty cheese—gruyere, I thought—a savory blend of herbs, and fresh sourdough breadcrumbs. The tops were perfectly browned, and when I cut one in half, real lump crabmeat that smelled sweet instead of fishy spilled out. While buttery, it was by no means greasy, and the mushrooms themselves were cooked to the perfect texture.

  “They certainly know how to do food here.” I thought back to the breakfast we’d had at the diner. I considered myself a pretty discriminating eater, and it was rare for me to have two meals in a day that bowled me over.

  Lonna nodded, her mouth full. I studied her as I blew on a bite of mushroom. While she and Kyra Ellison may be similar in build and coloring, Lonna had a certain genuineness. I thought it made her much more attractive than the arrogant Kyra.

  As I snagged another mushroom, I admitted I was torturing myself by comparing the two women. I would never be as tall, attractive or curvy as either. No one would give me a second glance if they saw me next to either of them. And as much as the thought of a secret admirer thrilled me, I had to admit it was probably Lonna who had one. Either that, or someone decided my grandfather’s fortune made me that much more attractive.

  “Two cents for your thoughts?” Lonna grinned at me. She resembled a vampire with the red wine on her lips and teeth.

  “I thought it was just a penny?”

  She waved her hand. “Inflation.”

  “They’re PhD thoughts. They should be worth at least a dime.”

  “You’re evading the question.”

  “Lucky in life, unlucky in love?”

  “Yeah, that seemed like a self-pity look.” She leaned forward. “You’ve had a hard day. Hard month, actually.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.”

  Lonna reached over to cover my hand with hers. “You’re not in it alone.”

  At that moment, Ted reappeared with an “Aha, I thought so!” smirk. Lonna leaned back, and laughter danced in her eyes with the candlelight. As she gave her order, I glanced over the menu and picked out the first thing that sounded good: blue-cheese-stuffed beef tenderloin with port wine and mushroom sauce. It came with a salad and rolls, and my stomach growled in appreciation when my eyes landed on the dessert selection.

  “Doctor Fisher?” he asked.

  “She must have seen something chocolate.”

  “I’ll have the tenderloin, house salad with balsamic vinaigrette, and mashed potatoes for the side.”

  “Very good. I’ll get these in and check on you in a little bit.”

  “He’s cute.” Lonna followed him with her eyes. “I’m a sucker for a guy with dark hair and a dimple.”

  “I don’t think he considers us eligible.”

  “Yeah, I caught that look.” She arched an eyebrow. “You know, that may actually work to our advantage.”

  “No way.”

  “Hmmm, you’re right.” I could almost see the wheels turning as she went through the possible ramifications. “As conservative as these little towns can be, you don’t want to give the locals any reason to dislike you.”

  “Not any more than they already do.”

  “I doubt it. They’re just curious. Have you gotten any hostility?”

  “Only from the Bowman brothers. And by the way, Peter Bowman is a creep.” I filled Lonna in on the almost-conversation I’d had with Louise about the kitchen. I lowered my voice. “And then he basically said he’d out you as a P.I. if you didn’t go by to see him tomorrow.”

  She pursed her lips. “It may be a good idea. I’m sure he has a different perspective on the child disappearances.”

  “It sounds like he wants to get a different perspective on you. Like with your clothes off.”

  “Possibly.”

  “Now you’re being evasive.”

  She shrugged. “You know me. Jerks are my type.”

  “And married men were mine, but I’ve sworn them off.”

  “Probably a good thing. Wives’ll have you killed if you’re not careful.”

  “Stick to the cute waiter.” I looked over at Ted, who opened a bottle of wine at another table.

  “I don’t think he’d find me eligible from either his or my perspective.”

  “You never know. We’re probably totally confusing his gay-dar right now.”

  “Oh, he’ll know. They always do.”

  Our food, carried by Ted himself as well as a regular waiter, arrived, and we didn’t speak for a few minutes.

  “How is yours?” I asked.

  “Excellent. I’m jealous.”

  “Of what?”

  “That you get to live up here among the rich and culinarily spoiled. And you get a kick-ass kitchen. All you need is a butler and you’re all set.”

  “‘Culinarily?’” I laughed. “Is that a word?”

  “It is now.”

  Before I could reply, the door opened and let in a draught. I shivered and turned to see Kyra Ellison and Leonard Bowman.

  “Isn’t that Peter’s brother?” Lonna asked as she craned her neck to follow their progress to the bar. Leonard’s eyes scanned the room. Kyra frowned, almost pouted.

  “Yep, that’s Leonard.”

  “Who’s the sulky woman?”

  “Her name is Kyra Ellison. She’s the one I told you about.”

  “She certainly looks like a snob.” Lonna studied her with narrowed eyes, then tossed her hair. Threat dismissed. I wished I felt the same.

  The couple took seats at the bar, and Leonard held up two fingers. I don’t know if it was the lighting, but I hadn’t noticed before how slender and graceful his hands were. I pictured him running them through his thick, dark hair while thin
king or gripping a steering wheel as he maneuvered winding mountain roads in his rugged four-wheel drive, or running them over my—

  Stop it, I told myself. The last thing I needed was to become attracted to another attached man. And Kyra Ellison had definitely attached herself to Leonard.

  “I know that look,” Lonna murmured. She held up her wineglass. “Here’s to the Bowman men, unattainable yet irresistible.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I grumbled but clinked her glass with mine anyway.

  “How about some chocolate? It’ll cure a broken heart.”

  “Two nights in a row?”

  “Is that what you tell your lovers?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Depends on the lover.”

  “Touché.”

  Ted came over and took our dessert and coffee orders. I ordered a Chocolate Insanity, which proved to be a chocolate mousse filling in a cookie crust. Lonna opted for crème brulée.

  I had deliberately averted my eyes from the bar, so when I glanced up after dessert, I was surprised to see Leonard and Kyra still there. Whatever disagreement they’d had seemed to have been resolved, and they laughed as he tucked a stray ebony curl behind her ear. I tried to ignore the finger of pain that poked my heart. Robert had loved to do just that as we talked over after-dinner drinks. On the nights his wife had been out of town. I envied Leonard and Kyra their freedom. They looked like lovers who didn’t care that others knew they were together.

  Ted’s voice startled me out of my observations. “Your check has been taken care of.”

  “By whom?” I asked.

  “Your admirer.”

  “My admirer?” He was definitely looking at me.

  “He said to tell you he hoped you enjoyed your dinner.”

  “Wow,” Lonna said. “I wonder who it could be.”

  As we left, I glanced toward the bar. For an instant Leonard’s eyes flicked our way, and when they met mine, my heart skipped a beat. I wondered if that’s what it felt like to be enchanted. It only lasted the moment it took to walk out of Tabitha’s and into the cool night air.

  “Where to now?” I asked.

  “I guess we should stop avoiding it. We have to go back to your grandfather’s house sometime.”

  “I know.” I sighed and wished we had explored the place during daylight. Who knew what might lurk there after dark?

  Lonna had driven to the restaurant. I was concerned her Grand Cherokee would roll down the mountain after a too-fast curve, but she might as well have been behind the wheel of a sports car the way the large vehicle responded to her touch. It was a good thing she drove because her first question would have startled me into a tree.

  “Have you ever thought of suing Robert?”

  My heart skipped a beat. “For what?”

  “Sexual harassment. He was your boss.”

  “Nope. It was completely consensual. I could never perjure myself.”

  “That’s too bad. He deserves something for what he did to you.”

  “I don’t know.” I smiled and imagined him tucking my hair behind my ear. “I usually enjoyed what he did to me.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  We reached the front gate, and I clicked the remote Galbraith had given me. The squat brick gatehouse stood lonely and forlorn just behind the gate on the left, and I wondered how much staff my grandfather had kept while he was alive. I remembered not being completely alone in the house with him, but I couldn’t remember who exactly was there or why.

  As we rounded the first curve, I caught my breath. I thought we had turned everything off, but light blazed from the windows.

  Chapter Four

  “Is there a timer?” Lonna asked.

  “I don’t know.” I was glad I didn’t have to go upstairs in the dark, but I was wary of the house itself. It seemed to have a mind of its own.

  “Well, I guess we’ll find out.” She rolled to a stop in the drive between the fountain and the front steps. “This place was built for parties,” she commented as I hopped down from the passenger seat.

  “That’s the funny thing about it. I don’t remember him ever having any.”

  “You said there was a ballroom?”

  “Yep.” I turned the key in the lock. “It’s in the back on the lower level.”

  “That’s strange.”

  “Everything about this is strange. Did you move our suitcases?”

  “No, I left them right here.”

  “Bon soir, mademoiselles.” A hearty male voice greeted us from the top of the stairs, and I jumped. For a moment it looked like Galbraith, but a closer look revealed someone younger and with a lot more personality.

  “Who are you and what are you doing in my grandfather’s house?”

  “My name is Gabriel, and I am your butler.”

  “Butler?”

  “Lawrence Galbraith didn’t tell you?”

  “He left that bit out.”

  Gabriel shrugged, his tailored suit coat moving perfectly across his broad shoulders. I guessed him to be about forty with a wild mane of light brown hair and a twinkle in his eye. He seemed to have more of a sense of humor than most butlers—at least the ones I’d seen on television.

  “I only flew in from vacation this afternoon. Otherwise, I would have met you on your arrival.”

  Lonna and I looked at each other, and he seemed to take our surprise as hesitation.

  “Would you like my references?”

  He handed me an envelope, and I gave it to Lonna. She slit it open with one long thumbnail and pulled the papers out. Gabriel lounged against the end of the banister, his arms crossed.

  “It looks in order,” she said. “According to this, he was contracted by your grandfather six months ago.”

  “Do you know when he’ll be home?” Gabriel asked.

  I looked up from the papers. “Never. He’s dead.” Saying it finally drove the words home, and I felt my knees go weak. Until then, it had felt like he was just away somewhere and would return soon, and I would hear his confident step in the front hall before bolting down the stairs to meet him. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I reached out with numb fingers to grab on to some sort of support. In an instant, Gabriel was there, his hand under my elbow, and helped me into the sitting room, where a fire blazed merrily.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Doctor Fisher. He was a very kind man.”

  “When was the last time you spoke with Galbraith?” asked Lonna.

  Gabriel shrugged again, his favorite gesture, I was to learn. “A month ago, perhaps two. He only wanted to confirm I was happy with the position and to let me know he’d renewed my green card. He told me there was no need to worry about anything and I was to arrive today.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a phone call.” Lonna went into the kitchen.

  “Your grandfather spoke very highly of you,” Gabriel said. He walked to the bar, which faced the fireplace on the inside wall of the room, and began to sort through bottles. “I went into the wine cellar and found some of the reds he said you favored.”

  “How…” All this was making my head spin. I took a deep breath and began again. “I haven’t seen my grandfather since I was a teenager. How could he know what I drink?”

  “Ask your friend.” Gabriel inclined his head in the direction of the kitchen.

  “My grandfather hired a private eye?”

  Another shrug. “Perhaps. Or maybe he knew one of your colleagues.”

  “If he did, why didn’t he tell me?”

  “He was a smart, enigmatic man. He had his secrets.”

  I recognized the evasion and decided on a different strategy. “How did you know him?”

  “I did some work for him in Europe. He liked me and invited me over.”

  “Your accent isn’t quite British?”

  “Scottish.”

  “I should’ve recognized it.”

  “It’s become a bit muddled, I fear. I had to fake an English accent
for a while to gain entry into the butler academy.”

  I couldn’t help it—I giggled. He handed me a glass of Australian shiraz on a tray. I sipped it and studied him. He gazed into the fire, apparently lost for a moment in memory.

  “Well, he’s legit,” Lonna said as she came through the door. She took the glass of wine he offered from the same silver tray.

  “How do you know?”

  “Called Galbraith. The poor man was asleep. I also checked with the National Registry of Domestic Help, and they were kind enough to verify that yes, he is a real butler with impeccable history.”

  “Thank you, mademoiselle.”

  “This just keeps getting weirder and weirder.” I yawned.

  “Are you ready to retire?” asked Gabriel.

  “I think so.” I rose with my half-finished glass of wine and headed toward the kitchen to put it in the sink. That was odd; I’d never been unable to finish a glass of wine before, but I was so exhausted I didn’t care. Maybe it was the half-bottle I’d had with dinner.

  “I’ll take that, Doctor Fisher.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  “I made up the bed in your old room and put your friend across the hall. Miss…”

  “Marconi. Lonna Marconi.”

  “Thanks.” I placed the glass on the tray. “I’m glad we didn’t have to go upstairs in the dark.”

  Lonna and I climbed the stairs together. The first rooms were guest rooms. Mine was at the very end of the hall on the left. Fresh flowers stood in a vase on the bedside table, which was covered in a lacy cloth. My grandfather had decorated the room for a young girl, and it hadn’t changed at all since my first visit twenty-something years before except the twin bed had been replaced by a queen-sized one. Stenciled pastel carousel horses careened across the top of the cream-colored walls. Each horse was different and at a different place on its pole to mimic the motion of the carousel. I picked out my favorites—a blue unicorn directly across from the bed and a green stallion with peach-colored mane, tail and hooves over one of the French windows that opened onto the upper back balcony.