Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

She didn’t even try to enter the room, too dumbfounded.

Every cabinet and drawer was open. Someone had pulled out every chair at the table at least a foot. Worse than that, various food items lay scattered around the counter randomly, including sugar, salt, and pepper dusted on the floor. Everywhere. A mess. Pasta aligned on the floor in a strange but beautiful flower. Something that looked like red food coloring peppered the pasta.

Sickness hit her stomach.

Or was it blood?

Cold air wafted by her, and she looked around. Sensing someone. Something near. She whirled around. No one. Anger drove her to snag her phone and do a group text to the ladies. Then she took a picture of the destruction from the doorway.

It took only a few moments for Maria to show up, her pace sluggish. Her hair looked mussed, her lipstick smudged. Dark circles ringed her eyes. The strangeness of this hit Sybil. Before she could say anything, Letisha and Pauline arrived.

“Look at this,” Sybil said.

Their faces creased with confusion. Nothing in their expressions betrayed anything but total surprise.

“What is this?” Letisha asked.

“I don’t know.” Sybil turned full toward the women. “I came in here, and this is what I found.”

Everyone exchanged puzzled looks.

Exasperation and anger filled Letisha’s eyes as she took in everyone with a sweeping glance, including Sybil. “Who did this?”

Sybil scanned the faces of her co-workers but saw nothing but bafflement in their expressions.

“If none of us did it...” Sybil swallowed hard. “I was the one just down a few doors. The walls aren’t that thick. I should have heard someone in here.”

Letisha waved one hand. “Come on, let’s clean it up.”

“Wait.” Maria moved forward. “What about the cops? We should call the cops.”

Pauline snorted. She shook her head. “That deputy has been here and didn’t find squat, remember? I don’t think calling her now is going to make a difference.”

Sybil rubbed her arms. “I can’t believe this. I’m going to call Clarice and Doug.”

“What can they possibly do? They’re going to think we’re nuts,” Pauline said.

Sybil ignored Pauline, left the room, and went outside to the terrace. She tried calling Clarice but landed on her voice mail.

“Clarice, this is Sybil. You will not believe this, but we’ve got some other weird stuff happening here at the house and want your advice. Call me back as soon as you can.”

She tried Doug next, and he answered.

“Hey Sybil. Didn’t think I’d be talking to you this soon.”

“Didn’t think I would either. Another bizarre thing happened a short time ago.”

She told him every detail of the kitchen mess.

“I don’t understand how this could’ve happened,” she said, running one hand through her hair in exasperation. “Why didn’t I hear it?”

Silence from the other side of the line brought a worry to mind. What if he thought they’d all lost their minds? Her in particular?

“We aren’t crazy.” She stood and paced. “I’ll send you photographs.”

“Okay. The walls are thick. It’s possible you wouldn’t have heard it.”

She sighed. “That thick? I mean, this is a well-built house, but someone trashing the kitchen...”

“Send me the photos right now. Got time to stay on the line with me?”

“Yes.”

She sent him the photos.

“Wow,” he said after a moment. “Was the door to the kitchen closed while you were cleaning the other room?”

“No. Well, it certainly wasn’t closed when I got to the kitchen and found the mess.”

“Baffling. But I still think there’s got to be a reasonable explanation. I’ll call Clarice, too, and ask her about secret passages.”

Her next words came out on complete impulse. “You also want to ask her if she’s made the biggest mistake of her life hiring our company.”

He sighed. “Busted.”

“Okay, I suppose that’s fair. You don’t know me. Any of us. And it isn’t as if Clarice has known us for a long time.” She stopped pacing and stared out of the windows to the terrace. “I won’t take offense if you do background checks on us. You’d want to protect Clarice’s interests. That’s a part of who you are. The cop in you.”

All of that came in a rush. This was about the time people shut down or freaked out that she’d hit a few, if not all, of the points. He’d call bullshit or wouldn’t say anything. The sky hung low with more dark clouds. Perhaps another storm would arrive soon. Her mood sank with it.

He said, “You’ve got me pegged. I’m tempted to prove you right. My cop sense, though, tells me you aren’t lying about any of it. But I’m not so sure about the three other women you work with.”

“I trust Letisha with my life. We’ve known each other since we were four years old. Pauline is problematic. Our relationship is iffy. Maria hasn’t worked for us that long. I did a cursory background check on her before I hired her, and it didn’t come up with anything weird. I did the same with Pauline back in the day. They’re solid people.”

“What’s iffy about Pauline?”

“I don’t know that it matters.”

“It matters if she’s the one trying to sabotage your business.”

“You really were a cop.”

He chuckled. “Yep.”

“Pauline is rough around the edges. She tries to intimidate people. But I don’t think she’d go this far to cause and issue.”

“As a cop, I found many people didn’t want to tell me the truth. It’s refreshing when someone does.”

“How do you know I’m telling you the truth?”

“There are two types of liars. The people who vomit everything and are babbling like they can’t get the words out fast enough. Then the people who won’t tell you a damned thing. You’re not either of those people.”

Part of her felt comforted he trusted her. The cynical part of her didn’t want to trust her own judgement no matter how good it had proven in the past. After all, she’d trusted Taggert at one time, right?

No. Deep down, she hadn’t. She’d just ignored her intuition.

“Well, all right then,” she said.

“I want to help you figure out what is going on at the house. If you’ll allow me. And if Clarice will allow it. I’ll check with her.”

Relief settled inside her. Taggert would’ve barged in and taken over. Doug seemed to understand boundaries.

“Sounds like a deal,” she said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll call you back after I touch base with Clarice.”

They signed off.

A creaking sound behind her made Sybil swing around. Letisha stood at the terrace door. Letisha came outside and closed the door. Sybil gave her the lowdown from Doug.

Letisha smiled and put her hands on her hips, looking like the cheerful friend Sybil knew when fibromyalgia didn’t steal Letisha’s grin.

Letisha lifted one eyebrow. “You like him.”

“He’s good-looking. Seems nice and honest.”

So what’s not to like? You don’t trust yourself after Taggert, right?”

“Nope.”

Letisha shrugged. “Anyway, I think we should clean up the kitchen already. What do you think? Are we calling the cops again?”

“I don’t think it makes sense at this point.”

“I understand. And you know what I worry about the most at this point?”

“What?”

“That Clarice is going to tell us to fuck off. I mean...I probably would if I were her. After all the weird shit going down.” Letisha looked around. She rubbed her arms. “God, I don’t know how you stand out here.”

“What? Why not?”

Letisha’s gaze snagged on the trees. “This forest is...weird. Creepy.”

Sybil also scanned the surrounding forest. Right now, it seemed as normal as a forest could be. A soft breeze rustled the pines and birds made cheerful sounds.

“I think we might live in a dream,” Letisha said.

Sybil frowned. “What?”

“It occurred to me a few moments ago that what’s happening...what happened the minute we stepped foot on this property...” Letisha looked into the woods again, her expression pensive. “Uncle Jinx would’ve said we stepped onto the Stairway To Heaven.” She snorted. “Of course, he misunderstood the lyrics to that song. But he would’ve meant we’re trippin’. That’s the word he would’ve used. Trippin’.”

A little puzzled, Sybil said, “We aren’t imagining it.”

“No, but it feels like we should be. It would be more comforting maybe if we were.”

Sybil started pacing again. “Through the looking glass.”

“Exactly.”

Sybil rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, if you’re crazy, then I am, too.”

Letisha laughed. “Come on, girl. Let’s get inside before something else happens.”

Right on cue, as if they’d written a screenplay for a movie, the terrace door opened.

Pauline stood there looking perturbed. “You won’t believe what happened.”

“What?” Letisha asked.

“Back in the kitchen,” Pauline said.

Wordlessly, they followed her back into the kitchen and entered it.

Sybil stared at the kitchen table. “What is it?”

Letisha pinned Maria and Pauline with a questioning look.

“Those chairs are under the table,” Maria said, her eyes as wide as saucers.

“So?” Letisha’s face screwed up in confusion. “You said you were going to clean up.”

Pauline’s mouth twisted as if she’d tasted a lemon. “We did. The chairs all pushed themselves under the table. All at once. Without our help.”

“No way.” Sybil looked at the dining table in disbelief.

“Way.” Maria rubbed her arms. “I think I’m losing my freaking mind.”

Letisha and Sybil shared a glance that conveyed confusion layered upon astonishment. Sybil had known Letisha long enough to see the doubt and skepticism rearing its head inside Letisha’s smart as hell brain.

“I don’t even know what the hell to think,” Letisha said.

“You read my mind,” Pauline said. “I don’t either.”

“Whatever is going on, maybe we should just finish cleaning everything up,” Sybil said.

They finished cleaning the kitchen, but it took longer than she expected. Like clockwork, her phone rang after they’d completed the chore and before everyone had left the room.

“It’s Clarice,” Sybil said, her stomach doing a little drop as she wondered what the woman would say.

Sybil answered. “Clarice, I’m glad to hear from you.”

“Well, things are getting weird, aren’t they?” Clarice said, her voice even-tempered.

“Yes.” Saying nothing to the other women, Sybil moved into the Great Hall and sat on a couch by the fireplace again. By now, the clouds gathering above the forest were lowering again. As if this little spot in Colorado had earned a fairytale reputation of being bleak and foreboding.

Clarice sighed. “I got your voice mail first and listened to it, but then I noticed Doug had called, too.”

Sybil asked, “Did he tell you we are all insane?”

“No, he didn’t. He’s a very professional man. Very circumspect in some ways, but I like that about him. Doesn’t jump to conclusions. I told him I completely trust you. Because I’m a superb judge of character. One of the best, I think. But he also said he wanted to do an investigation on you...on everyone. He’s not a cop anymore, but he’s got that instinct.”

“I can tell.”

“I told him it was all right. That if he found out you were all trying to pull some wretched scam on me, I’d fire you.”

Sybil smiled as she noted the subtle humor in the older woman’s voice. “Sounds reasonable. You won’t get an argument from me.”

“That’s what I like to hear. If you were a scam artist, you wouldn’t be so reasonable.”

“All right then. What did you think of the photos of the shoe prints?”

“Extremely strange. It’s breaking my brain trying to understand everything that has happened since you got there.”

“You don’t have an opinion on why it’s happening?”

Clarice’s sigh came loud and clear over the phone. “I’m eighty years old, dear. I’ve seen quite a few weird things in my lifetime, most of them in the realm of everyday human stupidity. This...well, this doesn’t fit into that so far as I can tell. I’m going to sleep on it tonight. My guess is that Doug will pull out all the stops to investigate each one of you. Knowing him, he’ll have an answer for me first thing in the morning.”

“I’ll admit I’m blown over by all of this.”

Oh, that isn’t true, Sybil. You know it isn’t. Her father’s voice came to her loud and clear, echoing in her mind. You and the spooky shit that follows you around. It’s all your damned fault.

“Well, I had a long day's visit with a friend. So I need to call it a day. Talk with you soon,” the old lady said.

When they hung up, Sybil felt as if she had a boulder on her shoulders, or perhaps the burden of uncertainty weighed her down.

Dread made her stomach do a roll, and her throat tightened. Panic tensed her muscles and made her want to flee. Run into that forest outside and conceal herself in the dark shade of the huge tree limbs.

Oh, Sybil. You couldn’t hide it forever. You were stupid to think you could keep it hidden forever.

“Shut up,” she said to the ghost of her mother’s voice.

Because Doug would find out. He would discover her shameful past, or at least some of it. Perhaps when he did, and he told Clarice the truth, this job would end and perhaps her freedom and life would be over.

She sucked in a breath, or at least she tried to, but her lungs refused to take in the air for a moment. She forced one deep breath in. Another. Yet another one. Until her heartbeat slowed, and she resigned herself to whatever came next.

* * *

“You didn’t mention you’re the daughter of a serial killer,” Doug said over the phone.

A wall of shame rolled over Sybil like a tide wave created by an earthquake. She was cleaning one bedroom on the second floor when her phone had chimed, and his name appeared on the screen. She’d answered the call with an eagerness that combined fear and excitement all at once.

You are so...so ridiculous, Sybil.

Her father’s voice again. So scornful and superior. So damned self-assured.

She swallowed hard, but words wouldn’t come out.

“Sybil? You there?” Doug asked.

She cleared her throat. “I’m a suspect. A person of interest in this complete mystery happening at the magnificent estate in the woods. Miss Scarlet is in the conservatory with the candlestick. You can put this case on your resume when you’re finished investigating.”

“Maybe.”

“Have you told Clarice all the details?”

“Yes.”

Sybil waited for it. Sybil expected that breath-stealing moment that could lead to the downfall of this entire project. Of her business. Her livelihood.

He continued with, “She already knew all the details.”

Now that she wasn’t expecting. “Okay. Then why didn’t she tell me earlier, and why didn’t she mention it to you?”

“I asked her the same question. She said she knew specifics about your father from the newspapers. She saw it online years ago and made the connection. There’s more to tell you about all of this. Is it okay if I come over later?”

She hesitated. “You can tell me right now if she’s planning to fire me.”

A half second of hesitation. Barely there, but still…

“She doesn’t want to fire you. It’s why she hired you. She liked that you’d survived everything that you went through and became a successful businesswoman. She said she likes women with that sort of background who’ve pulled themselves up by the bootstraps. As far as she’s concerned, it’s all good.”

Surprise and relief strangled her voice. “Wow. That’s…”

“You okay?” His question, deep with genuine concern, set off sparklers of interest and attraction within her.

There you go again, Sybil. Being led around by a man’s concern and you go all mushy inside with gratitude. You can’t trust men, Sybil.

So her mother had said many times. She’d been right so far, at least with Sybil’s father and in romantic relationships.

She stared out the window that looked to the east and across the thick forest that surrounded the house on that side. “Yes. I’m just surprised. That isn’t how most people react when they learn about my father.”

“I get it. I also realized that I made a mistake when I was there and didn’t check out the attic, cellar or the second ballroom on the second floor. But I also wanted to see you again.”

That she didn’t expect either. She couldn’t understand his attraction to her, really. Certainly not from a man who looked like Douglas MacKenzie. More than that, she didn’t know if she could trust any man in that way after Taggert. Skepticism mixed with surprise and pleasure inside her. Her face heated a little, a result of her confusion.

“Sorry,” he said, his tone maybe a little sheepish. “That last part just sort of came out.”

She smiled. “Right. I don’t think there’s any chance of you not doing something deliberately or without a plan. Am I right?”

“True. But not in this case. No pressure, okay? But Clarice still wants the security system installed, so I’ll need to take those measurements.”

“Of course. If you think about it, the security cameras will ensure we aren’t making up what’s happening in the house. So all of this is a good thing.”

“Yep.”

“We should be done by three o’clock. So come by then. But before we hang up…don’t mention the whole serial killer thing to Pauline and Maria. Letisha knows, but I try and keep this stuff on the downlow.”

She held her breath a little, worry creeping up as she waited for his answer.

“Okay, no problem. I can understand why you might keep it concealed. The whole thing has to have been a nightmare for you.

She relaxed a little, relief rushing over her. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

After they hung up, she ignored the dull ache in her temples. She pocketed her phone.

Weary, she went into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. She leaned against the bathroom sink. An icy shiver ran over her skin, and her breath snagged. Her eyes looked startled and worried. A weird flicker of terror touched her, the uncanny brushing along her skin and crawling through her to twist in the tender and hollow parts of mind. She didn’t understand the strange sensation, just as she didn’t understand so much about herself, and at the same time knew too much.

You’re afraid. Always worried about the next move you have to make in life.

Sybil thought, when she had a moment to over analyze, that anyone with half a brain would see her incompetence. They’d note her awkward stride, her inability sometimes to put two sentences together when startled by a cruel turn of phrase or sudden tough question turned her direction.

Many years ago, her tendency to not look people in the eyes consistently had prompted people to ask her if she was autistic. The question had always thrown her, and she’d hesitated to say no. She recalled a date with an impeccably dressed and suave looking chemist. He’d nodded, and said very matter-of-factly, “Uh-huh. Yes. I think you are autistic. You never look in my eyes.” She had found her voice, put on a smile and said no, she wasn’t autistic. Then she’d changed the subject. He’d told her at the end of the date to call him. Back at home, she’d found an online test that confirmed that although she had a few traits in common with people on the spectrum, she didn’t qualify as autistic or even Asperger’s. She hadn’t called the smug chemist back.

Despite all of that, she hadn’t felt a smidgen of relief. All her life she’d dealt with uncertainty, convinced she’d been born with something inherently wrong in the core of her. Until the last few years, when she’d found a trauma therapist who worked with patients suffering Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Then the lightbulb came on, and she understood so much more about her life.

Did a monster still lurk inside her? Possibly. After all, her father had hidden his killer tendencies as well as she’d hidden her trauma.

Now, being in this house…she wondered even more. After all, she’d recognized the darkness in this house the moment she’d seen it as they’d arrived the other day. Noticed it lurking and trying to hide itself until it recognized that darkness within her. Then it must have realized a kindred spirit. In a sense.

“I don’t understand,” an acquaintance had once said when she realized Sybil didn’t find haunted houses, horror movies or novels and Halloween abhorrent. Sybil hadn’t replied, well aware the somewhat religious woman wanted Sybil to turn away from it all.

Sybil finally stood up for herself and didn’t allow the woman to lead her around by the nose.

Still feeling strange, Sybil left the bathroom.

A rumble sounded through the house. It was short but loud.

Thunder?

A shadow passed near the doorway. Sybil started. It was Letisha. She looked like hell.

“Hey there,” Sybil said. “Did you hear that thunder?”

“Yeah. I reached my doc in Denver, and he’s sending a refill on the prescription to a pharmacy in Estes Park,” Letisha said. “They’re putting a rush on it, but it won’t be ready until tomorrow.”

“Glad you’re getting it filled fast.”

Letisha threw out a half smile. “Yeah. It’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve had to deal with pain like this and it won’t be the last.”

No way to deny the defeat in that tone. An off balance sensation hit Sybil. She wasn’t used to Letisha saying things that sounded this way. As if she’d come to the end of her rope.

“Did something stress you out? I mean, do you think stress restarted the pain?” Sybil asked.

Letisha’s face altered, filled with exasperation. “Your guess is as good as mine. And it doesn’t matter anymore why. It just is.”

The abruptness of her answer surprised Sybil. “Hey, it’s okay. Since we got here you don’t seem to be the cheerful person you usually are. Even when you’ve had a fibro flare up in the past, it hasn’t made you grumpy. In fact, I always found it amazing that you weren’t cranky when in that much pain.”

Letisha walked closer, and her shoulders slumped a bit. “I don’t mean to be an asshat. It sucks that after all these months of being in remission, it all comes back.”

“You’re not an asshat. You could lie down again and take a nap. We’re moving on this project pretty fast despite the interruptions.”

She filled in Letisha on her phone conversation with Doug.

Letisha’s smile wasn’t half-hearted this time. “He said he also wants to see you again? Fast mover.”

Sybil sighed. “I’m flattered, but I’m not taking him seriously on the whole I want to see you again so soon thing.”

“Why not? You gotta stop devaluing yourself like this.”

Sybil sat on the edge of the bed. Unlike her gothic room, someone had decorated this one to resemble a nursery, or perhaps a young girl’s room. “Just being realistic.”

“I can understand that. It hasn’t been long since Taggert.” Letisha lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “I’d watch out for Pauline, though. She was going on and on about how hot Doug was when she was staring at his photo. That woman...” She shook her head. “I think we should’ve fired her when we had the chance.”

“I was going to talk to you about that.”

Letisha nodded. “After this job is finished, she needs to go.”

Relief flowed over Sybil. “I’m glad you think the same.” Sybil looked at her watch. “I’m going to get back to work.”

Letisha groaned and started for the door. “Me, too.”

Once Letisha exited the room, Sybil started work in the ensuite bathroom. The entire time, though, she couldn’t stop thinking about what had transpired on the phone call with Doug.

* * *

Sybil finished three bedrooms without taking a lunch break that amounted to more than a peanut butter breakfast bar and water. No one came to check on her, but she heard the ladies laughing down below in the Great Hall. Two thoughts came to her as she headed downstairs. One, she liked the laughter, and it felt good to know they could enjoy themselves despite the bizarre things that had happened since they’d arrived here. Two, she’d spent too much time in her head since then.

She headed downstairs. Pauline and Maria sat on the two couches flanking the fireplace, and Letisha sat on the other.

As Sybil took the last steps down, the women looked over at her.

“Hey,” Letisha said. “We’re at a good stopping place on cleanup.”

“Letisha told us Thor is coming to see us again just shortly.” Pauline batted her eyelashes. “Perfect timing.”

Maria chuckled. “Yeah. We don’t want to miss that.”

Letisha grunted, and it was one of those sounds of gentle disgust that assured you that you’d just stepped over the line. “Girl, let’s not slip and call him Thor to his face, okay?”

Sybil made a face. “Too late. I already did.”

Letisha laughed. “When?”

Sybil grinned widely. “Okay, I didn’t say it out loud. I thought it, though.”

Maria and Pauline started laughing, and Sybil joined in and soaked in the feeling. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt as connected to a laugh, to a sense of belonging to the crowd.

The big door knocker sent a booming sound through the house.

Pauline whispered under her breath, “Jesus.”

Sybil grinned. “No. Thor.”

Letisha made a face-palm gesture.

Letisha stood and hurried to the front. She disappeared into the octagon room that concealed the front door, and moments later, muffled voices echoed from the front. Letisha and Doug entered the Great Hall. A mishmash of greetings went up. He caught Sybil’s eye, and the warmth in his grin made her feel less alone.

“Okay, which should I do first, the cellar or the attic?” he asked.

Sybil pulled the keys out of her pocket. “How about the attic?”

“I don’t think you need all of us for this, do you, Sybil?” Letisha asked.

“Not at all,” Sybil said. In fact, Sybil loved the idea she’d be alone with Doug.

Letisha sighed. “Good, because I’m heading upstairs for a nap. I’ll be down later.”

Maria threw a conspiratorial smile their way. “Me, too. I’m tired.”

“I’ll go with you, Sybil. I’m curious about the attic and cellar.” Pauline’s grin had a clever slant to it. “These old houses always hide a lot of secrets in both places.”

Sybil’s stomach dropped. She knew the woman had something irritating up her sleeve. She couldn’t say no to Pauline without sounding odd, so she ended up not saying anything.

Sybil headed for the staircase, and they followed. “This way.”

“So, Doug,” Pauline said as they headed up the stairs, her voice perky, “why are you living way out here in the scary woods?”

His deep laugh hit Sybil in all the right places. Soothing, interesting, and dangerous to her equilibrium.

“I inherited a cabin from my uncle,” he said, relaying what he’d already told Sybil. “It’s a good place to escape from everything.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Pauline asked. “There’s not much out here to do.”

“I’m still trying to decide what to do with the rest of my life.”

“I hear that.” Pauline’s voice held a breathy sound. “So, you were in the military?”

“Marines.” His matter-of-fact tone wasn’t boasting but informative.

“Wow. That’s impressive. I can only imagine all the things you went through. Did you see combat?” Pauline asked.

“Yeah.”

Pauline sighed. “Wow. That’s rough. Where?”

“Afghanistan.”

Pauline’s voice rose. “Oh, my God. I don’t know how people do that.”

He didn’t answer. Satisfaction filled Sybil.

Pauline rambled on. “Did you do security work in your job?”

“Well, as the saying goes, I can’t tell you or I’d have to kill you,” he said, his voice flat.

Pauline laughed. “That is so hot. Always did like a man who has a dangerous job.”

They’d reached the third floor, and Sybil noted a change the closer she walked toward the attic stairway at the end of the hall on the west side of the house. The air felt thick. The voices behind her became muffled. Less important. Irritating. She suddenly wanted to shout. Almost did.

Thoughts flew into Sybil’s mind. Deep. Dark. Heavy. Be quiet. It might hear you.

There it was. The door. At the end of the hallway. Something unpleasant might come, but couldn’t say for certain what.

She tightened her grip around the keys as she took the steps to the attic door. Only ten easy steps upward, but her breath hitched like she’d reached her eighty-fifth birthday. A headache started pounding in her temples.

The attic door didn’t appear intimidating. Just an ordinary Victorian era door with a skeleton key lock.

Sybil unlocked the door with ease, and Pauline said, “Abracadabra.”

Sybil took it all in as they advanced into the vast room.

“I thought this place looked large from what I could see of the windows when I was outside the house,” he said.

Sybil scanned the place as the apprehension she experienced before opening the place subsided. “It’s not as cluttered as I expected.”

Crimson velvet curtains hung on either side of the tall, peaked window and allowed murky light inside. The window needed a good cleaning, although Sybil suspected Clarice would need to hire window washers who could crawl along high places safely. Tall bookshelves on one side held leather books, some fiction and some not.

“These books should be in a museum,” Sybil said.

Someone had stacked boxes two deep and four high along the other side, most of them taped up but without labels to identify content.

As expected, thick dust lay on everything, including the dark hardwood floor. To the left side of the window, a small staircase led to another set of shelves stuffed with books.

“That staircase is amazing.” Doug’s voice was hushed.

“Looks like it could be unstable,” Sybil said.

“Ah come on,” Pauline said. “It’s fine.”

Pauline walked that direction, but Doug barked out. “Stop.”

The sharpness of his voice halted Pauline and startled Sybil.

Pauline planted her hands on her hips. “Excuse me?”

He moved forward and then pointed at the dusty floor in front of the window. “I don’t think you’ll want to step on these.”

He lifted his phone and started clicking photos.

“What is it?” Sybil approached the area.

“Might be a prank from a long time ago,” he said.

Curious, she took a few more steps and realized what he meant. An undulating track in the dust under the window. More than that, there were some sort of reptilian tracks, like an alligator or croc.

Pauline’s mouth dropped open as she glanced around. “You have got to be kidding me. There’s no way someone once kept some damned lizard up here. You’d think Clarice would’ve mentioned that.”

Sybil defaulted to, “I vote for kid prank. Or maybe an adult.”

Sybil also took photos of the marks and tracks.

“Yeah, I’ve seen some strange things in my life, but this house tops them all.” Doug smiled at Sybil.

That darkness Sybil noted earlier grew thicker as she stared at the tracks.

“What type of lizard is it?” Pauline directed the question at Doug.

He shrugged. “Beats me. There are some salamanders in China that are as big as a man. And the biggest gecko is about fourteen inches. Neither of those would live in this area.”

Pauline sidled a little closer to him. “Wow. You know a lot about lizards.”

He smiled. “Nah. I was a big lizard freak when I was a kid. Thought at one point I even wanted to be a zoologist. That wore off. Come on, let’s get the measurements.”

“I can help,” Pauline said.

“That’s okay.” Doug kept a straight face. “I’ve got it.”

Sybil couldn’t help but enjoy the dissatisfaction that marched over Pauline’s face at his gentle but definitive rejection of her help.

As the women observed, Doug used a laser device and wrote the room measurement results in his notebook.

“This room is going to take a lot of cleaning.” Sybil grimaced as she looked at the curtains. “Those curtains will have to be sent to a specialty cleaner.”

“Well,” Pauline said as she sauntered closer to him, “we could use some muscle to take those curtains down.”

“Uh, no.” Sybil threw Pauline a quelling look. “We don’t have insurance coverage for someone who isn’t an employee of the company. If he fell off a ladder or anything.”

Before Pauline could reply, a rumble came from somewhere in the house, and Sybil caught movement out of the corner of her vision. She looked up. The chandelier above her twinkled dully as it swayed ever so slightly.

Doug snagged Sybil’s arm and pulled her back as the chandelier’s movement picked up. He didn’t release his grip.

Pauline looked up and also stepped back. “Damn.”

Instead of coming to a slow stop, the chandelier stopped as quickly as if a giant hand had snagged it.

“Okay,” Doug said. “That was weird.”

“What was that noise? An earthquake?” Pauline asked. “I’m going down and see if the ladies heard that.”

Pauline left and didn’t close the attic door. Her footsteps clattered down the stairs.

Doug released Sybil’s arm quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep a hold on your arm like that. I was afraid the chandelier would fall. Let’s move farther away from it.”

They stood closer to the door, and Sybil said, “The weirdness in this house keeps getting stranger and stranger. I heard a rumble earlier and thought it was thunder.”

He used his phone to type something out. “Doesn’t look like there’s been an earthquake reported.”

Sybil drew in a big breath. “If you’ve got all the measurements you need, let’s get out of here.”

“Yep.”

When they reached the Great Hall, Sybil didn’t see a sign of Pauline or the other women, so she continued toward the cellar with Doug in tow.

She stopped at the doorway to the cellar, uncertain and a hint of the apprehension she’d experienced the night she’d stepped up to this door and touched the door handle. The keys were cold and hard under her fingers. Her gaze fixated on the evil-looking face on the wood.

“You all right?” Doug asked.

She turned to look at him. “Yeah. I guess the swaying chandelier freaked me out a bit.”

She wasn’t exactly lying.

You know what it might be, don’t you? This place has got something wrong with it. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s all you. Maybe it’s just you that is wrong.

Sybil quashed the voice in her head.

“It was weird,” he said. “Those strange tracks on the floor made little sense, either.”

“Maybe we’ve got some seriously clever interlopers finding their way in and making all of this stuff, but I don’t see how they’re doing it without us seeing or hearing them.” She threw her hands up.

“You’d be surprised.” His slow grin eased the tension inside her a little.

“What you told Pauline...you weren’t in a sneaky unit in the Marines, were you?”

“Well, without getting all technical, Force Recon isn’t a part of official special operations.”

She nodded and smiled. “Okay.”

He lowered his voice. “But for all my training in the marines and as a cop, I’m not entirely sure what Pauline was playing at back there when she was in the attic with us.”

Another smile played with her mouth, then fully blossomed. “You had to know. A lot of women admire a man with a military background and the cop credentials are icing on the cake for some women.”

His gaze tangled with hers, took her in with both interest and curiosity. Yet there was something more intimate inside that look, and it washed over her in a warm wave. As if he understood her on a level that went beyond the surface.

“I think she was flirting with me,” he said. “I wasn’t one hundred percent sure.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “I shouldn’t be talking about her like this. She’s one of my employees.”

His eyebrows went up. “You’re right. It’s a bad habit of mine. I’m nosy and want to understand everything, just like you.”

“Maybe you should grab that private investigator license. Let’s investigate this cellar.”

Even as she said the words and turned toward the door, she hesitated, and her stomach tightened. She wouldn’t touch the door the way she had that night to understand what was down there. What might be down there. No.

She inserted the key in the lock, opened the door, and the hinges made the slightest squeak.

“That’s a good sign.” She turned back to glance at him. “It doesn’t sound much like a haunted house cellar door.”

He smiled. “Ah, but we haven’t gone into the cellar yet. Who knows what will happen down there.”

She threw him a smile even as an icy chill ran over her skin, and for a moment she almost balked like a spooked horse.

Come on. You’re afraid of a lot of shit, but you’ve never been afraid of this kind of stuff before. Don’t start now.

It was pitch black down the steps, so she flicked on the light switch to the right inside the door. A bright light flooded the stairway.

“Here we go.” She kept her voice light, forcing a cheerfulness she didn’t feel.

The wooden steps creaked twice, but not enough to make her think they might collapse. At the bottom, she looked right and noted another light flooding the wide and long area. The flooring was a combination of dirt and stonework.

“Wow,” he said as he came up beside her. “It’s huge. It’s like a horror movie cellar. Look at all this stuff.”

She took it in quickly as they advanced forward. Antique-looking cabinets stored bits and bobs, including old books, candlesticks, a toolbox, three stools, an old mirror against one wall. Numerous cardboard boxes were stacked against one wall on the right side after a set of shelves and cabinets.

Doug stopped to examine something, and she continued. Her breath came faster than she wanted the farther she went into the cellar. Dust and cobwebs covered everything.

She quickened her steps. “There’s more down here.”

Sure enough, a corridor to her right brought her to the threshold of another extensive area. More antiques, more clutter. She continued to walk and look at the objects, but her gaze fixated on the large furnace at the end and a medium-sized table sitting on its own across the area from the furnace. A dark wood box, measuring about eight by ten inches, was on the table at hip level. The box was plain except for a weird octopus like carving on the top and in the center.

Her breathing quickened. She tentatively touched the box.

A wave of knowing hit, much like what had overcome her when she’d touched the cellar/basement door for the first time.

Sensations invaded her. A crawling, awful, hateful dread.

Cold. Hard. Secret. Uncanny.

Raw fear sliced deep into her, the likes of which she’d never experienced before.

She snatched her hand back. Gasped.

The lights went out.