The Secret of Langley Manor

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The Secret of Langley Manor Page 2

by Alicia Donovan


  A chill ran up my spine. “What unexplained happenings?”

  “Don’t get worked up. A couple workers walked off the job. It happens all the time. The folks in this area think it’s some kind of supernatural event, but I know for a fact that one of them moved to a job in Nashville. He just texted my buddy yesterday.”

  “And the other one?”

  “Andrew?” Sean shrugged. “I’m sure he’s safe and sound somewhere.” He cleared his throat and stood. “How about a tour of the grounds?”

  The invitation perked me up. “Sure!”

  He stepped out into the long hallway, and I followed. “The rooms off this corridor are for all the servants or as we call ourselves in this modern age, employees.”

  “So, you are here too?”

  He walked to a wall beside my doorway and slapped it. “Just on the other side of this wall. There’s about twelve of us good-natured males in the men’s quarters.”

  “Oh.” My immediate happiness of having him so close dimmed. “So it’s Mrs. Baker and me on this side. Anyone else?”

  “Well, actually, Mrs. Baker has a room by the kitchen, and no other female workers are staying over at the moment. Her granddaughter, Lisa, commutes from her house in town. You’ve got the place to yourself.”

  I stared at the long, deserted hall with at least ten tightly closed doors along it. Sean started down the hallway, his work boots drumming against the wooden floor and echoing back to me.

  I wrapped my arms around my waist. Raised in houses crowded with foster kids, after graduation I’d needed all the roommates I could get. I’d never had a room, let alone this much space, to myself. The nights would be long and lonely.

  And in an old, creaky house—frightening.

  Chapter 3

  Sean gave a quick tour through the residence’s primary areas, pointing out entire wings still needing restorations. He said Mr. Langley had enough of the manor completed to house himself and the construction crews to start. The remodel was fanning out from there.

  Outside, the storm had passed, though the sky remained a dreary grey. I stepped carefully through the rain-drenched grass as Sean gave me a closer view of the lake. We wandered toward the horse named King, but kept our distance. The animal was beautiful with a sleek coat that shone in what little sun there was. Reluctantly, Sean tore his eyes from King as I pulled him to an old walking garden with a long hedgerow that had caught my attention.

  “What do you know about gardening?” he teased.

  “Nothing, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the few blooms left.”

  Though the hedges were a dull green, some late pink roses still clung to the plants scattered along the front of each row, doing their best to perfume the air. They seemed overly cheerful amidst the numerous dead sticks and old brush, but I could imagine the beauty come spring with the help of a groundskeeper.

  I threaded my arm through Sean’s and warmed. How wonderful to be together again. It seemed from the time we were children, other than a few stints in Heritage Hall together, he and I went different ways. But in spite of that, he’d become something stable in my ever-uncertain world.

  I leaned into him as we rounded the hedge and came face to face with the most handsome man I had ever seen. Chiseled jaw, dark hair, stunning blue eyes. At least, he would have been the most handsome if not for the deep scowl covering his face.

  I froze, and my fingers tightened around Sean’s arm.

  “Hello, Mr. Langley,” Sean said, taking the man’s sudden appearance in stride.

  Our employer. I jerked my arm from Sean’s and put my hands to my thighs, hoping my jeans would instantly soak in the light perspiration from my palms. I held out a hand to him. “Hello, I’m—”

  “Ms. Anson. I’m aware.” His cool blue gaze swept over me, seemingly without interest. Still, he took my hand with a gentle grip, holding it a bit longer than necessary and causing my stomach to flutter.

  Of course, he would know me. I was apparently the only woman here besides the cranky Mrs. Baker.

  I stumbled over my words. “You have a beautiful house. I look forward to working on the project.”

  He turned to study at the wreck in front of him. “Beautiful? Surely not yet. But I hope to get it there someday.”

  “Of course. I hope I can help with that.”

  He shifted back to stare at me. “I hope so, too.”

  I imagined everything he was thinking. I was too young. And I hardly looked professional at the moment with my wind-blown hair, and, I was sure, reddened cheeks.

  I almost winced.

  He stood taller and crossed his arms as he glanced at Sean. “I wasn’t aware the two of you were in a relationship when you recommended Ms. Anson’s work, Sean. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

  Before Sean could answer, I burst out, “We’re not! I mean, we are friends. That’s all.”

  The side of Mr. Langley’s mouth twitched. “I see.”

  Sean put an arm around me. “Abby and I have been friends forever, almost siblings. We often ended up in the same group home in between foster stints.”

  Still flushing, I looked at the ground before glancing at our employer. His curious gaze trapped mine. He seemed to search for something, refusing to let go until he found it.

  I pulled in a quick breath as I fell into those blue eyes. My brain swam. Whoa. Life was full of surprises.

  Chapter 4

  Mr. Langley cleared his throat and tore his gaze from mine. Flustered, I looked at everything but the man. He began a conversation with Sean, but all I caught was something about the police coming by before evening.

  I pulled myself together in time to hear Sean say, “Well, maybe he got stalled out down at the hotel with all the construction honeys.

  Michael cleared his throat and darted a pointed look toward me. “I’m certain the officers have looked everywhere for him. Make sure to let me know when they arrive.”

  Yes, sir.“ When I sent Sean a sharp glance, he shrugged. It was unlike him to show much deference to anyone, but he’d been serious when responding to Mr. Langley. The man inspired something to affect someone like my long-time friend.

  When our boss turned to leave, I caught his attention. “Mr. Langley?”

  He quickly turned around. “Please, call me Michael.”

  “Oh, yes. Michael.” I breathed the name before mentally shaking myself. “In the morning—is there anywhere in particular you would like me to begin?”

  “No, Ms. Anson. Wherever you see fit.”

  “Please call me Abigail.”

  This time I got more than a twitch of his lip. I got an entire smile. I stood there blinking as it blazed toward me.

  He tipped his head in farewell and turned to leave.

  “Please call me Abigail,” Sean mocked in a sing-song voice.

  I cringed, dying a little inside, as he made me feel ridiculous.

  “Stop it!” I whispered fiercely as I watched Mr. Langley—no, Michael—walk away. “He’s cute. What can I say? Ever lose your mind around a cute girl?”

  Sean chuckled. “Yeah. All the time. But I’ve only seen one other guy make you stop in your tracks like that.”

  Anthony. A high-school disaster. He’d never considered me date-worthy even though I’d followed him like a lovesick puppy. “That was a long time ago and not worth talking about—so, instead, let’s go over the plans of the house. I want to get a good idea of where to start in the morning.”

  “All right. I should have a little time. I just gotta be available when the cops arrive.”

  “Yes, what is that about?”

  He grimaced. “It seems Andrew really did disappear. Mr. Langley was told the man’s wife reported him missing. The last time she heard from him, he was here.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible!” The air suddenly seemed chill and I shivered.

  “Don’t worry. He’s probably holed up somewhere.” Sean’s eyes lit up. “It was cute how Michael”—he dragged out the
name—“tried to shield you from any talk of illicit women.”

  I giggled. “He seems rather old-fashioned.”

  “Yeah. Not your type at all.”

  I laughed. But did I really have a type? What I did have was a lot of distrust. Being raised in a constantly shifting environment had made it hard to get close to people. I always had my guard up. Sean was one of the few people I really trusted.

  Yep, I was one of those people, I thought as my shoulders sagged. My circle of friends was tiny, and my dating pool non-existent.

  Chapter 5

  That evening, I gave my appearance a little extra attention. I combed my honey-brown hair to a gloss and blended on a bit of eyeshadow to bring out the green in my hazel eyes. After dotting a hint of terra-cotta peach lipstick, I smoothed my white button-down shirt and took one last look in the mirror, saying, “It’s as good as it’s going to get.” I slipped on blue loafers and hoped that my jeans would do.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I met Lisa, Mrs. Baker’s pretty granddaughter, who directed me to the dining room. I took a couple of seconds to admire the brightly lit area with its moldings and painted high ceiling. The dining table itself was a treasure, half the length of the room without a mark on it. A well-cared-for antique.

  Michael sat at the head of the food-laden table, like a kind lord with his underlings, but also in more casual clothing. When he caught me looking at him, I gave him an awkward smile.

  As I stepped closer, he introduced three other men at the table, each the head of one of the construction crews. Jerry, Joe, and Dan.

  Michael waved a hand toward my old friend. “Of course, you know Sean.”

  Michael indicated I should take a seat between Sean and himself. I swallowed and moved toward it, catching a whiff of his expensive cologne as he stood and pushed the chair in for me. Very old-fashioned indeed. Had anyone ever done that for me? Well, I couldn’t say I disliked it.

  “So, Abigail,” Michael said as he returned to his seat. “Have you decided where you’d like to start tomorrow?”

  My racing heart slowed. This was a topic of conversation where I felt competent.

  “I was thinking about drawing up a plan for the back of the right wing. I know it’s out of the way, but I thought it might be a good testing ground. If I need to go back to the drawing board, it will be easy to do since no one is working there at the moment.”

  “Excellent choice. I will have someone escort you there after breakfast if you wish.”

  “Thank you. I noticed some tricky navigation there on the blueprint.”

  “Yes. It’s the oldest part of the house. Your room sits above it, but the way there is more straight forward. I’ve thought about opening some walls on the lower levels to make a more direct route, but I hate to change the original parts of the house too much.”

  “Oh, I understand. It’s a treasure. And things like that and this beautiful dining room give it character.”

  “I agree.”

  After that, conversation around the table took on a life of its own. For the most part, I sat back and enjoyed the surrounding discussions while I savored every bit of Mrs. Baker’s food. The woman may be a grouch, but she certainly knew how to cook.

  Toward the end of the meal, a deep bell sounded through the house. I startled, then jumped again when Michael put a hand on my arm. “It is fine, Abigail. It’s only the front door. As I mentioned before, I’m expecting the police.”

  I nodded and looked at the table, blushing. The man would think I was frightened of him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I stammered. “New surroundings and all, I guess. Just ignore me.” I waved my hand.

  “Never,” he said with a serious tone.

  I swear my heart beat double time. It was a relief when Michael excused himself and left the room to meet the officers.

  I put a hand to my flushed face.

  “What is wrong with you?” Sean hissed at me.

  “Nothing!” I put a hand to my flushed cheek. “I think I might have a fever.”

  Sean humphed.

  From the hallway, an officer with a voice like a bullhorn asked to see the missing man’s quarters, the estate grounds, and to speak with Andrew’s co-workers. Michael assured him that everyone would cooperate.

  As soon as I could, I rushed to my room and opened the small window so I could stick my head out and watch the police traipse in and out of the left end of the house where the male workers roomed. My mind spun with the possibilities. Had Andrew disappeared from this property? If so, had the police found any of his belongings? Would they find any clues?

  My gaze darted to each officer as they entered and exited, but as far as I could see, no one carried anything.

  Afterward, they spread out on the lawn, their flashlights zigzagging across the grass in front of them like tiny searchlights. As the officers examined the smooth lawn all the way to the forest, some disappeared into the trees only to reappear again in a few minutes. What could they be looking for in the evening gloom?

  Afterwards, the shadowy men gathered around the lake’s tall grasses and stared at the black water. I could imagine what they were thinking.

  Was it deep enough to hold a man so far under the water that he’d be invisible to those above ground?

  I peered through the twilight at the lake’s inky depths. I shuddered as I conjured up the feeling of frigid, dark water closing around my head as I struggled for one last breath. I even imagined a strong hand against the top of my skull pushing me deeper and deeper.

  The last of the storm eerily whistled through the trees and I wrapped my arms around my waist .

  Then I shook myself. What was I thinking? This was a nice house with a mostly well-mannered owner. If there was a man in that lake, he’d most likely fallen in it.

  Just like Sean, I hoped they’d find the man. Even if it was in some down-trodden hotel in town.

  Chapter 6

  My night was restless. More than once I startled awake, drenched in sweat. Nightmares were not new to me. A sense of abandonment often became the overwhelming theme, but tonight the ominous shadow of the house and the missing man added to my dismay.

  As I tossed from side to side, somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, the distant sound of metal scraping metal fully woke me. I disregarded it. Surely the noise was some figment conjured by my unsettled mind. No one would work this late at night.

  When it stopped I fell into a deep lull, only to imagine a shadowy hand reaching for my shoulder. I lay there frozen as its claw-like fingers grazed my body. I jerked awake.

  Gasping, I bolted up, searching the gloomy room for something that wasn’t there. I pulled my legs closer. Like a child, I was afraid to let my feet dangle over the edge.

  As I scrubbed at my face, the sound came again. This time it almost seemed a squeal—as if someone dragged metal across a hard surface.

  Holding my breath, I waited for the noise again. When a few minutes went by with no sound, I exhaled in a huff and went to the window. A thin line of red light crested over the horizon.

  There would be no more sleep for me. I slumped and headed to the bathroom.

  Once I was dressed, I decided a walk was the only thing that would perk me up until coffee was served. In the dim early-morning light, King’s pen appeared empty. The horse was probably still tucked in for the night, as I should’ve been. I turned and headed toward the lake.

  Thick fog hung over the top of the water, obscuring the other side of the small lake. The mist hung motionless until disturbed by a slight breeze, then it lazily spun and twisted.

  The scene could have been beautiful. It was not.

  Instead, it was eerie and somehow more disquieting than my dreams. Yet, it drew me to it.

  Soon, I stood at the very edge of the reservoir. The tips of my shoes hung over the grassy edge as I studied the mysterious water below. What secrets did it hide?

  It seemed innocent enough. Serene, calm with o
nly the smallest ripples from the tiny iridescent dragonflies skimming the top.

  But I knew what it could hold. I’d stood at a lake like this before.

  I shoved my hands deep into my jean pockets and stiffened my weak knees. The chill of the morning soaked through my sweater and entered my spine as I remembered a lost teenager who had been found in a lake near Heritage Hall.

  Had someone put Andrew in there? Or had he offered himself like she had?

  People did desperate things when they had nowhere to turn.

  Deep drumming broke through my disturbing thoughts. I angrily brushed tears from my eyes as I searched for the sound’s source.

  I felt the reverberations more than heard them and turned in time to see Michael racing toward me on his stallion. It seemed King hadn’t gotten to sleep in after all.

  I backed up, my heels sinking in a bit at the water’s edge.

  Michael brought the animal to stop and held up a hand. “Be careful, Abigail. We don’t want you falling in.”

  I adjusted my footing as best I could. “Right. Of course not.”

  After shooting a glance at the water lapping my shoes, I looked at King with a wary eye. Though magnificent from afar, he was intimidating close up.

  Michael seemed to sense my unease and pulled King back. The horse snorted, blowing out a steamy breath that reminded me of a dragon, but he obeyed.

  After giving a nervous laugh, I looked up at Michael who towered above me on the tall animal. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t been around horses much. Not at all, really.”

  “That’s a shame. We will have to do something about that.”

  I gave the stomping King a dubious stare.

  Michael chuckled as he dismounted. “Something a little more sedate than King, I would imagine.”

  “Yes. Me, too.”

  As he stepped closer, his gaze lingered on my face. I imagined the dark circles under my eyes and my uncombed hair. I ducked my head and said, “I didn’t sleep well.”

 

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