LeRoux Manor

by Liz Butcher

  “We can come back for a closer look another time.”

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “We should probably get back to the others. They’ll be wondering where we are.”

  He lifted his phone and took a quick photo of the grave before taking her hand and leading her through the trees. She was grateful for his sense of direction as much as the warmth spreading from his hand up into her chest, making her heart flutter. The nausea was still present but seemed to lessen a little with each step closer to the manor.

  As they stepped away from the tombstone and through the trees toward the others ahead, Camille tried to release Lachlan’s hand. She didn’t want to upset Jayne, but he held on tightly. As their friends looked up to see them, Camille lowered her gaze so she wouldn’t have to see the look on Jayne’s face.

  “What took you guys so long?” Jonathan asked, seemingly oblivious to the handholding. “We were about to send out a search party.”

  “We found a tombstone in the woods.” Lachlan finally released Camille’s hand so she could show the image on her phone.

  “Whose?” Jonathan asked.

  “That’s what we need to find out,” Camille replied.

  “That’s it! I can’t take any more of this!” Jayne burst into tears and stormed off through the trees toward the manor.

  Grace leaned toward Camille and whispered, “Don’t feel bad. Lachlan’s liked you since the moment he met you. She just needs some time.”

  Before Camille could say anything, Grace hurried through the trees, calling out for Jayne to stop.

  “We should go.” Camille led the way after them.

  As they stepped across the tree line and back onto the manor grounds, she was surprised to see Grace and Jayne already halfway across the gardens. Grace was a few steps behind Jayne, clearly still trying to get her to stop or at the very least slow down. Camille couldn’t help feeling guilty for Jayne’s outburst.

  Then she saw her parents step out from behind a tree, hand in hand as they enjoyed a Sunday-morning walk. “Oh, crap,” Camille muttered. Her parents looked up at Jayne and Grace’s approach.

  “Hi, girls,” Allysha called, and Camille broke into a jog, the boys on either side of her.

  Her mother shielded her eyes with a hand to search the ground, and once she found her daughter and the boys, she lowered her hand and approached Jayne. Grace put a hand on her friend’s shoulder, but Jayne shook it off.

  “What’s the matter?” Allysha asked. Phillipe lingered a few steps behind her, awkwardly shuffling from one foot to other, clearly not wanting to get involved in any teenage girl drama.

  “We found a body!” Jayne blurted, then burst into tears again.

  Camille swore under her breath as she and the boys closed in the last few meters.

  “What? What do you mean? Camille!”

  “She’s right, Mum,” Camille said. “There’s a body in the woods. Well, a skeleton. It’s been there awhile. We’re pretty sure it’s Lachlan’s uncle.”

  Allysha stared at them, her mouth agape.

  “Now hold on a minute,” Phillipe said. “What? Why would Lachlan’s uncle’s body be in the woods, and how do you know who it is?”

  “There was a wallet. We checked the driver’s license,” Lachlan replied.

  “And why on Earth would your uncle have been in the woods?” Phillipe asked again.

  “It’s kind of a long story,” Camille added.

  “Well I think you’d all better get inside and start talking before I call the police.” Allysha wrapped an arm around Jayne and led the girl back to the house with her husband at her side. He kept looking over his shoulder at Camille and her other friends before glancing beyond them toward the trees.

  “What are you going to tell them?” Grace hissed.

  Camille looked at the ground as she walked. “I’m not sure. Obviously that we found him, but I don’t think we need to tell them much else. I mean, we can tell them what we know about Lachlan’s uncle’s arrangement with Great Uncle Charles, but I don’t see why we have to tell them the whole story.”

  “What about the symbol on him?” Jonathan asked in a hushed whisper.

  “We’ll play dumb. Like we were so freaked out by the body that we didn’t notice it.”

  “Do you think they’ll buy that?” Lachlan asked.

  “Honestly, yes. At least for now. I think they’re too shocked to question us that much.”

  “They’re not the only ones,” Grace added as they reached the manor and followed Camille’s parents into the kitchen.

  Miss McAllister looked up as they entered, eyeing each one of them suspiciously before staring at Camille. Camille stared back in defiance while her friends took up seats at the counter. Miss McAllister’s gaze narrowed before she turned and strode out of the kitchen.

  “Miss McAllister?” Allysha called after her. “I could use a hand.” The old woman had either not heard her or had chosen to ignore her.

  Camille joined her friends at the counter. Her mother muttered under her breath and bustled about to put the kettle on and pull out clean cups.

  Lachlan leaned toward Camille and whispered, “Are you feeling any better?”

  She smiled, enjoying the sensation of him being so close to her. “I am. Thanks. Must have just been something I ate.” Still, he didn’t look convinced. He grabbed her hand beneath the counter, and she felt herself blush again but didn’t push him way.

  “Right.” Phillipe leaned on the bench and looked at each of them in turn. “Start talking.”

  “There isn’t much to say, Dad,” Camille started. “We went for a walk in the woods, and we found the body... the skeleton... on the ground. Well, kind of on the ground. It was sitting up against a tree.”

  “And you say the licence showed it was your uncle.”

  Lachlan nodded.

  “I am so sorry you found that,” Allysha said, still consoling a teary-eyed Jayne. “It must have been terrible.” The concerned look she shot her husband didn’t escape Camille’s notice.

  Phillipe sighed and fished his mobile from his back pocket. “I’ll call the police.”

  “Do you want to call your parents and let them know?” Camille asked Lachlan quietly.

  He opened his mouth, then shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I should wait. You know, just in case. Maybe someone else had his wallet. I don’t want to upset them if it’s not really him.”

  Camille just nodded and squeezed his hand, not wanting to push the issue. She felt the intensity of Jayne’s stare without having to look up. The heat rose from her chest and into her cheeks, partly in guilt for hurting Jayne’s feelings in wanting to be there for Lachlan, but also from the way her heart pounded at the feeling of her hand in his.

  “I think I want to go home now,” Jayne said quietly, looking only at Allysha.

  “Of course. I’ll drive you into town. Your parents should hear what’s happened from me. Does anyone else want a ride?”

  “I’ve got my car, so I can drive Lachlan and Grace,” Jonathan said. “But thanks.”

  “Make sure your parents call us if they have any concerns,” Phillipe said. “Or even if they’re just angry that their children found a body in the woods.”

  “Phillipe...” Allysha said softly.

  He walked toward her and kissed his wife’s cheek. “I’ll go wait out the front for the police.” He didn’t look at anyone else as he left the room, but Camille saw in the way his shoulders hunched forward that he was upset by the news. She knew how much he wanted to make a life for them at the manor—how much he wanted them to enjoy his family’s home.

  “Allysha,” Lachlan said, “do you mind if I hang around? I’d like to know what happens with my—with the body.”

  Allysha nodded. “Of course.” She looked at her daughter. “I shouldn’t be too long.” Then, when Lachlan looked down at his hands, she mouthed at Camille, ‘Door open.’

  Camille rolled her eyes but nodded.

  Jayne didn’t s
ay goodbye to any of them as she followed Allysha out the door.

  “Well, she’s clearly not happy,” Jonathan half-joked.

  “You know,” Grace added, “she’s not great with scary stuff when it’s fake, let alone when it’s real.”

  “True... but I think it was seeing these two lovebirds come strolling out of the woods that tipped her over the edge.” He laughed when Grace whacked him. “What? That’s what happened.”

  Camille sighed. “I’m so sorry. I—”

  “Don’t apologise, Camille.” Lachlan shook his head. “We’re not doing anything wrong. I can’t help it that I don’t feel that way about Jayne. She’s a good friend, and I don’t want to lose her as a friend, but I’m not going to avoid being happy with someone else just to spare her feelings.”

  “While I probably wouldn’t have put it quite like that,” Grace added, “Lachlan’s right. It was going to happen sooner or later. It’s probably a good thing. Maybe now she can move on.”

  “Speaking of moving on.” Jonathan pushed himself off the stool. “It’s been real, but I think it’s time we head out.”

  Grace got up and walked toward Camille to give her a big hug. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered. “He’s a great guy.”

  Camille couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face when Grace released her.

  “Camille, congratulations on destroying my preconceived notions of what happens at a girl’s sleepover. It was one hell of a night.” Jonathan bowed.

  “Get out of here, you idiot.” Lachlan playfully swatted his mate.

  “Call me later?” Grace said. “Or earlier, if you have any update or find out anything else.”

  Camille nodded and waved at her other friends leaving the kitchen.

  “Then there were two.” Lachlan turned on the stool to face her and grabbed her other hand to now hold them both. Camille swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling very nervous and unsure of herself. “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

  “Yeah. It’s weird. I feel fine now, like nothing happened. I’m actually... I’m so embarrassed I threw up in front of you.”

  Lachlan chuckled, and the sound made her heart flutter. “Do you want to take the research back upstairs? Now that its daylight, it feels safer. A distraction until we find out more about what’s happening with... in the woods?”

  “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, actually. At least we have a good view from there too without anyone noticing.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  N

  OW THAT IT was just the two of them, Camille felt shy about them being in her room and found herself avoiding looking Lachlan in the eye. She distracted herself with yanking the box of albums out from under her bed.

  “Here, let me get that for you,” he offered. She shifted to the side and scooped up the pile of research from under the bed as well. “Where do you want it?”

  Camille looked down at her bed before quickly glancing at the window seat. “How about over there?”

  He placed the box in the middle of the window seat and sat at one end, glancing out at the woods. Camille sat at the opposite end, watching him while pretending to also stare out the window. She didn’t have to ask to know he was thinking about his uncle. Shuddering, she realised that every time she’d been gazing out into the woods, there had been a dead man staring back at her.

  “Are you okay?” Lachlan asked, and she gave him a quick smile.

  “Yeah, of course. Just tired, I guess.” Without paying much attention to what she was doing, she pulled an album from the box and tried focusing her attentions on the images. They were of the manor and seemed to be more of the staff than of the LeRoux family. When the LeRoux’s did appear, it was with the staff. Camille admired the close bond they seemed to have had with their employees. She turned the page and noticed a missing photo, running her fingers around the browned outline of where the photo had once been. How long had it been missing? And who would have taken it? She turned the page and found the same on the other side. Perplexed, she flipped through the rest of album, but all the remaining images were still in place.

  “What’s up?” Lachlan asked, looking up from his reading to observe her frantic flipping.

  “I’m not sure. Two photos are missing.”

  “Hmm...” He stared out the window. When he didn’t elaborate further, Camille looked at him before following his gaze outside. Below, her father strode across the grounds, accompanied by two police officers as they headed toward the woods. “Creepy much?” Lachlan pointed at the right side of the garden, where the McAllister’s stood mostly obscured by shrubbery as they watched the party walk past.

  “I wish I knew what they were up to,” Camille whispered. They tried to return to their research, but Camille could feel that Lachlan’s attention was down in the woods. She carefully stole looks at him, wishing there was something she could do; she couldn’t bear the thought of finding one of her own loved ones out there, alone and abandoned in the woods. Before she could say anything, Lachlan’s mobile rang.

  “It’s Mum.” He slid off the window seat and answered it.

  Camille tried not to listen to the conversation, but it was hard not to when they were in the same room. Looking out the window again, she watched her mother lead three more men toward the woods, where one of the police officers waited for them at the tree line.

  Lachlan sat back down on the edge of the window seat, and Camille jumped in surprise.

  “Sorry. What’s going on?”

  “Looks like more people showed up. They aren’t police, though. Not sure who they are.”

  Lachlan sighed. “Mum and Dad already got the call that the police think it’s my uncle. They want me to come home.”

  “Why don’t they just come here?” She felt selfish for even suggesting it, as the offer had more to do with her not wanting him to leave.

  “I already brought that up, but the police apparently told them not to come to the manor. That they’ll come see my parents once they have more information. I think Dad will have to go make some kind of formal ID, but I don’t know.”

  “Okay.” With a small smile, Camille grasped his hand. Lachlan scooted closer, cupped her cheek, and leaned in to kiss her. For a moment, she forgot all about the woods, the manor, and all its mysteries.

  With a frustrated groan, Lachlan finally pulled away. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

  “Are you going to want to go to school tomorrow after all this?” she asked, gesturing toward the woods.

  He nodded. “I need to stay busy. Plus, I want to see you.”

  “Well, in that case, I’ll be there.”

  He kissed her again before forcing himself to stand. “I’ll text you later?” he asked, still holding her hand. Camille nodded and squeezed his fingers. He returned the pressure before finally releasing her and walked out of the room.

  Pulling her knees to her chest, she sighed. She didn’t think she’d ever felt so many emotions at once. Fatigue threatening to pull her under, she yawned and turned to see two officers stringing yellow crime-scene tape across the tree line.

  A LOUD BANG STARTLED her awake. The album had fallen from her lap and onto the wooden floor. Camille yawned, unsure of how long she’d been asleep. She looked out the window, but all she could see was the yellow tape flapping in the wind, the trees behind it whipping their branches as if in protest. She wondered if the body was still there, watching her, with its mysterious symbol engraved on the skull—or if had already been taken away.

  She got up off the window seat, and stretched, then bent to pick up the album. A blue piece of paper stuck up above the other pages. Slowly, she turned to the back of the album to find a concealed pocket she hadn’t noticed before. She gently tugged the paper out of the pocket, set down the album, and unfolded her new find. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at what appeared to be blueprints of the manor. She quickly located her floor and traced the path from the staircase to her room. Frowning, she pulled th
e prints closer for a better look. A pit sank in her stomach. According to the drawings, there was a narrow room adjacent to the wall of her own—where the wardrobe stood.

  Camille couldn’t believe what she was seeing as she pawed over the papers, looking for any hint or instruction on how to access that other room. The drawing simply showed the two rooms with the wardrobe crossing into each, the second running the length of her room before it was left open-ended. Camille had no idea what that meant, but she thought over every time she’d thought she’d heard a sound coming from that wardrobe, plus the scratching on the walls. Chewing on her bottom lip, she lowered the drawing and stared at the wardrobe. Suddenly, somehow, it felt alive.

  She picked up her phone and checked the time; Lachlan should have long been home by now. Camille quickly called him, holding the phone to her ear and eyeing the wardrobe from the safety of the window seat.

  Lachlan picked up on the third ring. “Miss me already?” he joked, and though Camille wanted to smile at the sound of his voice, she couldn’t ignore how sad he sounded.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think before I called. It’s probably not a good time—”

  “Of course it is. It’s nice to hear your voice, to be honest. Mum and Dad are still in the loungeroom with the police, and I’m just pacing around in my room, waiting to be called down. So, I’m actually keen for the distraction.”

  “Well, in that case, I think I found something.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like a pretty good distraction.”

  Camille filled him in on her findings and received only silence in reply. “Hello?” She pulled the phone away from her ear and checked the screen, thinking they must have been disconnected, but he was still on the line. “Lachlan?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. I was just thinking. What if it isn’t a secret room but more like a tunnel? That could explain why it’s open-ended in the drawing.”

  “I don’t know which thought I like least...” Camille replied quietly.

  “I want to come back up to the manor, but my parents... my Dad... Well, you know. I need to hang around here for a bit.”