Miles

Home > Other > Miles > Page 7
Miles Page 7

by Melissa R. L. Simonin


  And note to self, look around more often! I wasn’t aware I was so unobservant.

  “I’m glad you didn’t see me, then. Since you’re the only person who can see me, it would be extremely ironic if that’s what happened as a result.”

  I laughed.

  “So you looked at the portraits,” Miles prompted.

  “Yes. I saw that you and your brother died the same year. I wondered why, and if it was related or not. I thought it was very sad.”

  “You hadn’t yet heard the story that I murdered my brother?”

  “No, my Uncle told it that night after dinner. I was horrified at what he said, and… I couldn’t reconcile that with what I saw in your portrait. I know you can’t always judge by appearances, and I know it’s a painting, but with that joyful light in your eyes, you just looked so decent and honest. I couldn’t believe you would do that.”

  “I appreciate you giving me the benefit of the doubt,” Miles said. “You wouldn’t believe how everyone other than family turned on me after they heard Sarah’s story. I’m talking about people who at one time, I believed to be friends. People who knew I’d never hurt my brother, and would never want what I had no right to. After we were murdered, the Sheriff began spreading Sarah’s story. People I’d known for years, analyzed everything I ever said and did, trying to find something dark and ulterior that wasn’t there. I lived my life to bring honor to my family, and to have that happen… it was torture.”

  “That’s terrible,” I frowned.

  “When you looked at my portrait for so long, I thought it was because you heard the stories.”

  “I looked at your portrait because I thought it very sad that you died so young.”

  And he was cute, really cute, although I’d never admit that had anything to do with it!

  Miles thought about that.

  “I’m glad Polly hired you. I’m being master of the understatement, when I say that. You believe in me, you can see and hear me, and you believe there’s proof. After all these years… something has changed,” Miles smiled. “Alright, Anika Riley… I’m in, all the way in. I don’t know how you plan to accomplish this, but anything I can do to help, you’ve got it.”

  “Great! What we’ll do, is work this mystery backwards. We already know what happened, thanks to you. All we have to do now, is prove it. I’ve got plans, and together, we’ll do this. It makes sense that when we do, it’ll free you. If nothing else, it’ll clear your name and you won’t have that cloud hanging over you anymore.”

  “Either way would be a major improvement,” Miles said.

  I looked around.

  “Where did the dogs go?”

  We found them in the entryway. Trixie was trying to show Chip how to go through a wall. We both laughed, it was too funny! The puzzled look on Chip’s face, and his reluctance to try and follow her.

  “Sorry Trix, he knows that’s not going to work. If you want to show him around, you’ll have to use a doorway,” Miles smiled.

  “Speaking of doorways,” I said, as I refastened my ponytail, in an effort to capture the hair that kept falling across my eyes. “It’s time for us to head back for the day.”

  Miles and Trixie walked with us to the edge of the garden.

  “We’ll be back in the morning,” I said reassuringly.

  I would want reassurance if I was alone for as long as Miles was, and then the only person able to see me, was leaving.

  Miles smiled.

  “See you tomorrow, then.”

  Chip and I hurried down the path through the forest, and across the bridge that Miles built.

  How crazy was that, I spent the afternoon talking to the guy that built this bridge a hundred and forty-five years ago.

  Note to self, nothing is impossible. Today just proved it.

  Chapter 4

  I tossed and turned, wishing my brain would stop trying to assimilate all of the mind-blowing things that happened in the past few days. There were so many. Moving here, finding the castle, meeting Polly, meeting Miles... especially meeting Miles. He was such a nice guy, and didn’t deserve what happened to him. I felt so much sympathy for him, not just because he was falsely accused and stuck in semi-transparent mode, but also for the way his friends turned on him. It was nowhere near the same, but I lost so-called friends when our circumstances changed so drastically. Apparently, I was only popular because of my very cool car, and house, and clothes, and the ability to afford what everyone else could. Trouble has a way of showing you who your real friends are. It turned out I didn’t have any outside of family, and neither did Miles. I could totally relate.

  I had to find a way to clear his name, but what I really needed to do right now, was get some sleep. My mind was spinning out of control, and I couldn’t make it stop.

  I gave up trying to sleep, and tried reading a book instead, but still my thoughts raced madly. Several pages later, and I didn’t remember a word I read.

  It was hard to act normal when I got back to the cabin. I couldn’t talk about what happened, and who I met. I would scare my Mom to death, she’d have me in a hospital searching for a brain tumor to explain my delusion. Come to think of it, I did have quite a headache. My brain felt ready to explode over everything I learned earlier in the day.

  I tossed my kindle aside, and clutched the sides of my head with both hands. It was no use.

  I slid out of bed and snuck quietly out of the room, determined not to disturb Doreen. I plopped on the couch in the living room and reached for my laptop, which I forgot to put away earlier. I was sooo glad Tryon didn’t mess with it, he had a tendency to get into electronic devices that didn’t belong to him, and use them in unapproved ways.

  I opened it and switched it on, then sat and stared blankly at the Google search engine screen for several long minutes.

  Thoughts racing like mad, and I can’t think of anything to search on? How additionally frustrating! Brain full, mind empty.

  Fine. I’d focus on something completely different, instead… I did a search on Doreen’s symptoms. Not that we hadn’t all done this before, but you never know… different day, different search engine, dig through enough results and just maybe the info we needed would be there.

  The search results included multiple Lyme disease websites. She tested negative though, and the doctors she saw were certain she didn’t have it.

  I spent the next two hours searching for anything else that matched Doreen’s symptoms, but which hadn’t been tested for already. I didn’t find anything new, but the change in focus slowed down my swirling thoughts.

  I shut down the laptop, and went to bed.

  Bright and early the next morning, Chip and I hurried back through the woods to the Bannerman estate. I had interviews to conduct, and I was sort of anxious to see if Miles was still there.

  As we walked out of the woods into the rose garden, Trixie ran up and play-bowed to Chip. He looked at me.

  Oh, so it matters what I think now?

  “Go ahead,” I told him.

  He accepted her invitation and they ran off through the garden, playing keep away with a stick.

  “Hi,” I heard Miles say. In the bright morning light he was a little harder to see, but he was there.

  “Hi back,” I said.

  We walked toward the house. Sounds so normal, doesn’t it. I wondered if the novelty of this whole situation would ever wear off.

  “To tell you the truth, you surprise me in more ways than one,” I said.

  “How’s that?” Miles wondered, as we continued up the steps.

  “You seem pretty laid-back and—well—normal, for having been in isolation for so long.”

  Miles looked back at the dogs, who were still playing with abandon. He nodded toward the retriever.

  “I don’t know how I would have tolerated it, without Trix. It does get awfully lonely, though. A little like watching families interact on TV. It’s not even close to really being part of one,” he said with a note of sadness in
his voice. “The past three years with no one else here, has been the worst. Without Trix for companionship, I don’t know what I would have done.”

  I thought about how awful it would feel to have life going on around me, but without me.

  “Well, at least now you can talk to me. And I believe we’ll prove to the world you’re innocent, and set you free.”

  “I look forward to that,” Miles smiled.

  I adjourned to the clean parlor to prepare for the interviews I scheduled for that morning. Miles didn’t stay, he knew he would be a major distraction.

  I watched a truck emblazoned with the Lawncare Extraordinaire logo, as it pulled into the long curving driveway and parked in front of the estate.

  Right on time. That was a good sign.

  The guy that got out of the truck was probably mid-twenties, with dark hair. He looked fit, it was easy to see he got a lot of exercise on the job. I moved toward the front door, as he began to walk up the stairs toward the vestibule.

  I opened the door and stepped out.

  “Hello,” I greeted him. “I’m Miss Riley, the property manager.”

  “It’s good to meet you, Miss Riley,” he said, as we shook hands. “I’m Nate Harrison.”

  “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you around the grounds,” I said, leading the way. “So what is your position in the business, Nate?”

  “I own the business, actually,” Nate replied. “I’m the boss, and I create the plans, but I also work alongside my guys to make it happen.”

  “Impressive,” I said. “I notice you have stellar ratings online, and I like the photos you’ve posted of the properties you regularly maintain.”

  “Thank you,” said Nate. “Lawncare Extraordinaire’s reputation is very important to me, and to each of the guys I’ve got working for me.”

  Nate was very professional, which was a point in Lawncare Extraordinaire’s favor. I still wondered if Polly was joking about her ‘yard man’ statement, but she ought to be happy to know this guy was very unlikely to give me any trouble. He was pleasant to talk to and friendly, but in a respectful way.

  We reached the rose garden. Nate examined one of the plants, his deep blue eyes narrowed in concentration.

  “The roses are in good shape for being so neglected,” he said, as he stood and looked around. “When was the last time the grounds had any care?”

  I explained that the caretaker died three years ago, and the owner of the estate wasn’t informed. He nodded as if considering that, and we continued on the royal tour of the grounds.

  “When the rose bushes are trimmed, they’re going to explode with new growth. You’ll have roses before winter sets in.”

  “That’s interesting. It won’t be too cold for that, soon?”

  “Not at all. They’ll withstand a lot of cold nights before they decide to hibernate, as long as it warms up during the day.”

  Nate and I continued touring the grounds. It took a while. With a house this big surrounded by a huge garden, it was quite a hike to go all the way around and see everything.

  Nate mapped out his vision for the grounds on a Google earth printout of the estate. I was impressed with that, and with his ideas, which I could easily picture thanks to the page I was now holding in my hand. I liked his plans for planting in the spring, and his use of pansies and other cold hardy flowers to keep color in the garden during the winter months.

  “I’m very pleased with your ideas,” I said, as we completed our tour and returned to the front of the house. “When can you start?”

  “I can have a crew out here first thing tomorrow,” Nate smiled.

  We set up a contract and pay schedule, and Nate went on his way to inform his crew that they had a very big job ahead of them.

  I had a short break before the next interview, which I was grateful for. That walk around the grounds was a mini marathon. Nate and I traveled at a much faster pace than Polly and I did on Monday, and my muscles were feeling it.

  While I waited for the next interviewee to arrive, I called and cancelled the appointment with the other landscape company that was scheduled for that afternoon.

  I walked to the window and glanced from it, to my watch. The next interviewee was already thirty minutes late. Not a good sign!

  After an additional thirty minutes of waiting, a car pulled into the driveway and screeched to a halt in front of the steps. A harried looking woman, somewhere in her fifties, got out and looked around with a glare, before heading for the stairs.

  This could get interesting.

  I walked out to the vestibule, and waited for her to make her way to the top of the stairs.

  “Hello, I’m Miss Riley, the estate manager,” I said with a smile, to the woman in front of me.

  Her hair was black, and cut in a short bob. She scowled and narrowed her eyes, which were so dark she looked dead inside. She looked me up and down critically. Ironically, her shirt and hat boasted the logo Happy Cleaners.

  “And your name is?” I prompted her.

  She was sure not making a very good first impression!

  She pushed past me on her way into the castle, making me once again thankful I wasn’t more abundantly blessed with curves, and gave the entryway an appraising look.

  “It’s Lana,” she said. “When’s the last time this place was cleaned?”

  She ran a finger along the entryway table, and frowned at the accumulation of dust.

  “Three years,” I said, starting to feel rather bristly, myself.

  She shook her head and made a sound of disgust, as she moved into the parlor.

  The interview went downhill from there. She had no clue how to properly care for antiques, any more than she did public relations.

  “Alright then Lana, you’ve given me everything I need to make the right decision for the estate.”

  “And exactly what would that be?” she asked condescendingly.

  “I’ve decided to go a different direction,” like a positive one! “and will be hiring another service. Thanks so much for coming. Here, let me show you the door.”

  She stared, her lip twitching as if she could not believe what she just heard.

  I smiled, and motioned toward the exit.

  She left, peeling out of the driveway on her way back to the street. I hoped she didn’t need the tread on her tires, because she left it behind.

  I took a deep breath and shook off the encounter. She would not ruin my good mood, or make me doubt myself!

  Note to self, never hire based on online reviews only. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wrote them all herself, although I wondered how she managed to scrape up enough positivity to accomplish it.

  I ate the sandwich I brought with me for lunch, and wondered where Miles was. He was serious about not distracting me, I saw no sign of him.

  One o’clock came, and right on time, I was glad to see a Queen of Clean van pull into the driveway.

  This was my last appointment of the day. I hoped it would go well, because otherwise, I’d have no choice but to arrange additional interviews.

  “Hello there, I’m Molly, and you must be Miss Riley!” said the Queen of Clean lady. She was probably in her thirties, and the polar opposite of the not-happy woman.

  “Yes, I’m Miss Riley. It’s great to meet you, Molly,” I said, as she reached the top of the stairs.

  “What a wonderful place,” she marveled, her short dark hair bouncing in excitement as she looked around. “And you’re the estate manager. Well that’s just wonderful, good for you!”

  She patted my arm as I led her inside.

  Molly knew not to use Windex on antiques, which was a big improvement over not-Happy Cleaners. She brought an e-cloth, which is what her business primarily uses, to illustrate its miraculous cleaning powers.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll demonstrate,” said Molly.

  “Sure, I’d love to see what it can do,” I replied. If it was as great as she said, I would get some for Mom.

 
“Now you just spray it with a little water,” Molly used a small bottle she brought with her. “You don’t want it really wet, just barely damp. The cloth has over a million and a half strands per square inch, and just wait until you see how well it picks up dust, and just keeps on picking it up!”

  Molly enthusiastically ran the cloth along the entryway table, and I was amazed at the difference.

  Molly zoomed through the whole entryway. She dusted the baseboards, walls, furniture, banisters, the whole bit. In my research, I found that many experts recommended cleaning antique wood furniture with a barely damp cloth, just as she was doing. It cleans off the dust without scratching, and doesn’t leave behind a residue to attract more.

  “Molly, I love your attitude and your e-cloth superpowers. When can you start?”

  “Well, now Miss Riley, thank you! I do say there’s not a day that can’t be improved by a cheerful disposition.”

  “Very true,” I agreed.

  “I’ve got a large team that works in pairs to do regular cleaning jobs, but on Friday, we can all be here and start on the castle together,” she said. “It’ll take a while to get the whole place spic and span, but we’ll do it!”

  “Awesome, Molly. Let’s get a contract set up.”

  “You know this job will do wonders for Cedar Oak’s economy. I’ll have to hire more girls to add the estate as a regular client!”

  I laughed.

  “You can hire the entire town, and it will still take more than a week to get every room done,” I said.

  Molly laughed too.

  “That’s about right! But we’ll get it done. Oh yes, we will.”

  As I closed the door behind Molly, I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt good about the two companies I chose to do the work. This was so exciting! I was impatient to see the house and grounds with their glory restored.

  “Miles, are you around?” I asked, as I walked through the entryway.

  “Where else would I be,” he responded beside me.

  I was not expecting that, and jumped.

  “Sorry,” he smiled.

 

‹ Prev