The Haunting of Crawley House (The Hauntings Of Kingston Book 1)

by Dorey, Michelle

  “Any drugs, alcohol or firearms in your possession?”

  I chuckled. What would she do if I said yes? For a moment I was tempted. “No, ma’am. Left my forty-five at home, right next to my stash.”

  She leaned forward, placing her meaty elbows on the counter. “You do realize I have the power to do a strip search, don’t you?”

  Oh my God. From the glint in her eye, she’d probably enjoy it! “Sorry. I crack jokes when I’m nervous. Seriously, I haven’t anything but my clothes.”

  She sniffed and lifted her chin. “If you stay any longer than three months, you must check back with Customs.” She handed my passport back and turned to her screen, dismissing me.

  When I left her station and picked up my bags from the scanning machine, an elderly man who’d been sitting on a bench strode forward. His gaze was steady from an ancient-lined face as he extended his hand to take mine.

  “Keira?”

  I nodded and felt his hand close over mine, noting the dry parchment of his grip.

  “I’m Lawrence Brady. Your grandmother sent me to pick you up.” He towered over me even though his shoulders were stooped with age. There were laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and his nose was slightly curved, like a hawk’s. There was the flash of a smile before he reached and grabbed my suitcase.

  “Are you a friend of my grandmother’s?” I had to walk fast to keep up with him as he strode across the terminal. He was lanky and more spry than I would have thought for someone so old.

  “I like to think so. I’ve worked for her for a long time. A very long time.” He paused and gestured for me to precede him through the glass doors which slipped open to reveal the warm summer day.

  My forehead rose. If he was there looking after her, then why did they need me? “How is she? I mean, I’ve never met her, but Mom told me she was ill?”

  For the first time a genuine smile formed on his lips. “How is your mother?” He stopped at a mammoth black car which—even I could tell—was a classic. He slid the key into the lock and the back hatch silently rose up.

  “She’s good. You know her?” I watched him hoist the suitcase and place it gently in the cavern at the rear of the Sherman tank. The sun’s ray cast a glint on the lettering above the chrome bumper—Cadillac.

  “Know her? I should say so. I practically raised Susie until she went to boarding school.” He slammed the lid shut and tossed the keys in the air, catching them swiftly in his gnarled hand. “Let’s go.”

  Susie? I watched him round the car and yank the driver’s door open wide before my legs kicked into gear to go to my side of the asphalt yacht. Mom hadn’t said anything about this guy, other than to say someone would be there to pick me up at the airport. And yet, he’d raised her?

  I climbed into the front seat and sank down into plush leather. I glanced to the side at his profile as he started the engine. He’d evaded my original question, avoiding telling me anything about my grandmother’s health. My hand scrambled to the side of the seat searching for my seat belt. Maybe that was part of the code for butlers or whatever he was, that they didn’t talk about their employers out of turn.

  He pulled out of the parking lot and I turned to gaze out the side window at the sparkling blue lake we skimmed by. I had known the city would be small after the hustle of New York but I hadn’t expected the quiet vista before me. A few sailboats dotted the expanse of water which the road hugged, winding its way along the small curves. We passed by subdivisions of houses and then the outer limits of the city as taller buildings came into view.

  “It’s not very far to your grandmother’s home. I would give you a tour of the city but I hate to leave her alone for any length of time.” He glanced over and his smile was tight. “After New York, Kingston might seem pretty bland. There’s a lot of history in this city though. Did you know it was the first capital of Canada?

  Did he know I couldn’t care less? I just nodded.

  The highrise condos on the outskirts gave way to squat limestone and old clapboard homes as we drew closer to the city center.

  He pointed at a large domed building. “That’s city hall,” he said. A gray limestone building spanned the whole block, topped by a pretty cool dome. For a city hall, it looked kind of small, I thought.

  He pointed to the opposite side where there was the cutest park and a marina behind it. “And that’s Confederation Basin.”

  “Confederates?” I said. “Were you guys involved in the Civil War?”

  He chuckled and just shook his head no.

  I stared out the window taking it all in, wondering when the actual city was going to appear. Where were the stores and nightclubs?

  I could hardly believe it when we passed over a bridge and the land became greener and buildings sparser. That was it? It seemed more like a small town than a city. I wouldn’t be missing much being stuck in the country with my grandmother.

  Fifteen minutes later, Lawrence flipped the turn signal on and we drove even slower than the plodding pace he’d maintained since we’d left the airport. A silver mailbox with the name “York” emblazoned in blue script marked the start of the driveway.

  “We’re here.” Lawrence’s eyes lit up and he hunched over the steering wheel, smiling out at the row of trees which bordered the gravel lane.

  My stomach clenched tight as I looked ahead at the stately stone structure. The dark gray door perched above a wide set of stone steps, while windows on each side of it, and above, formed a line on the second story. Black shutters framed each window. There was even a row of windows jutting up from the deep slate of the roof. The place was massive for just two people! Surrounding the house was a wooded lot, thick with trees and shrubs of all kinds.

  Two Grecian urns filled with a profusion of red flowers and ivy, flanked the steps, welcoming me as I stepped from the car. I gulped, looking up at the house. In New York City this home would be behind a wrought-iron fence with armed security.

  At the sound of the trunk lid banging shut I turned and watched Lawrence, my heavy suitcase stretching his arm as he marched forward. The butterflies in my stomach took flight when I followed him up the steps to the imposing entry.

  He pinned me with his steely eyes before turning the gleaming brass handle of the door. “It’s just three-thirty. Your grandmother needs to rest at four o’clock. Mind you don’t keep her from that schedule. She’ll join you at six for a cocktail before dinner, which is at seven, sharp.”

  My head jerked back and I stared at him. I wasn’t even in the door and the orders were being barked at me. “Fine. I’m kind of tired anyway. I could stand a rest myself.” It was the truth, and I wasn’t letting him have the last word.

  Inside the house, I paused looking at the spacious hallway and the wide staircase which curved around to the second floor. The entire foyer was airy, going up to the ceiling on the second floor. A row of golden wood spindles before the expanse of the upstairs gallery gleamed in the light of the chandelier hanging down from the high ceiling above.

  At a clatter to my right, I turned and for the first time saw my grandmother. With a hand clasping a black cane with a carved ivory handle, she stood with her chin high; her posture perfect and straight. My eyes opened wide. It was like staring into a mirror, except this version of me was like, a hundred years older! The same dark blue eyes, the nose thin and straight above a mouth which curved up in the corners. But it was her cheekbones that dominated her sculpted face, high and defined even in the soft lines of her skin. She smiled and it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

  “Keira.” Her hand rose to swipe a tear from her eye. “You are even lovelier in person.” Her gait was stiff and slow as she walked toward me.

  “Grandmother.” My voice was flat. This was the woman who’d never bothered to meet me before this. If she expected me to rush over and gush, she had another think coming.

  “Would you like some tea or lemonade, Pamela, before I take Keira’s bags up?” Lawrence set the suitcas
e on the floor and stepped over to her side, placing her hand in the crook of his arm.

  The expression in her face as she looked up at him was warm before turning her gaze once more on me. “Keira? Would you care for anything after your long trip?”

  “Just a glass of water. Thanks.” I was starving and parched but there was no way I was going to ask for anything more.

  Grandmother turned back to Lawrence and smiled. “Would you mind bringing a ham and cheese sandwich and a soda for Keira, dear? I’ll have a glass of iced tea. We’ll have it in the sunroom.” She patted his arm and then watched him leave, a smile still playing on her lips.” It faded a little when she turned to me. “Come along. I’m looking forward to a chat with you.” She winked. “I’ve waited a long time for that, don’t you think?”

  She adjusted the high neck of her ruby silk tunic and turned. Her cane tapped lightly on the dark hardwood as she walked past the set of stairs to the back of the house.

  I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders before following in her wake. If she had expected me to be all warm and gushing, she was mistaken. In fact, it was more puzzling than ever, why I was even there. Sure she was old but she could get around and she had Lawrence. I stepped up beside her and glanced over, noting the white hair, perfectly coiffed in a loose French roll, the ruby earrings swaying gently against her translucent skin.

  “Mom told me you haven’t been well, Grandmother.” She looked fine to me, even if she moved as slow as a turtle.

  “I’m well enough, thanks. “ She stepped through the open doorway into a bright room which was a lush jungle. Chest-high green plants formed a wall, while abovem the sun beamed warmth through the glass dome. In the center of the space were high-backed wicker chairs and a small glass table. She eased down into the closest one and sat back.

  I took my time, gazing out the glass at an expanse of lawn which flowed down to the lake, where a short dock jutted out. Beds of roses, and what looked like a vegetable garden, marked the boundary of the property on each side.

  “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it? You don’t get this kind of privacy and peace in many places. I’ve lived all over the world, from Scotland to Singapore.” She smiled up at me and her eyes sparkled brightly as she leaned forward and patted the seat next to her. “Sit down and tell me about yourself, dear.”

  For a moment I was tongue-tied. Where would I start? She was a perfect stranger to me, even if she was my grandmother. I took a seat and perched forward, resting my hands on the table. “I’m a Libra. Born October sixth at one twelve in the morning. I like going out partying with my friends and I hate peas.”

  Her eyes narrowed but she chuckled. “Not to mention you’re a total smart-ass and you’ve tried your hand at social work, photography, and yes... your latest whim was acting.”

  I sat back and folded my arms over my chest, glaring at her. If this was going to be another lecture—

  “You also love animals. Dogs in particular. But they shy away from you when you come near. You always drop coins in a beggar’s hand and you have to watch every calorie you eat. You actually tend to obsess over your hips, truth be told, but you’d rather stick pins in your eyes than exercise.” Her eyebrows bobbed. “That rhymes. Pretty good for an old doll, right?”

  My mouth fell open. “How do you know these things? Did Mom tell you?” But in truth, the part about giving coins to the homeless was something I never told anyone about. You cancel the karma, if you do that.

  “Exactly. When it comes to charity, never let the right hand know what the left is doing. I’ve done my share of handouts too, Keira.” She reached for my hand and pried it from my chest, clasping it tightly.

  I was still trying to make sense of her statement. It was as if she read my mind. She held my hand in both of hers, smiling over at me. It was the oddest sensation. My fingers tingled and a sense of calm seeped into my bones.

  “You haven’t found your calling yet, Keira. That’s something I hope will change after you’ve been here a while.” She turned when Lawrence appeared in the doorway, a tray of food and glasses in his spotted hands. He focused on my grandmother holding my hand and the smile on his lips vanished.

  Grandmother sat back and patted my wrist before her hands dropped to the table. “Thank you, dear. What would I do without you dear Lawrence?” She smiled up at him as he set the sandwich and glasses down.

  When he left, I took the linen napkin and spread it on my lap. “Which brings me to the question, Grandmother...” I looked over at her. “Why am I here? You have Lawrence and to be honest, you look pretty healthy. Mom and Dad made it sound like you were dying or something.”

  She took a sip of her iced tea and then set it down softly. “What you really want to know is why this is the first time, you’ve ever met me. Isn’t that so?”

  I nodded and then bit into the sandwich, waiting for her answer. Once more, she’d hit the nail right on the head. It hadn’t been a money issue, since she was obviously doing pretty well.

  “It’s the same reason I sent your mother away to attend boarding school when she was nine. The nature of my work...” She looked down at her drink for a few moments. “Let’s just say, it was for her protection and with you... the need was even greater.” Her eyes were soft gazing at me. “I was there the day you were born. I held you and I knew right away how special you really are.”

  “I don’t understand. Protection from who? And why? Who were you protecting me from?” I pushed the plate containing the other part of my sandwich away. Suddenly, my appetite was gone. Either she was making this up... the delusions of an old woman or everything was a sham. Growing up in New York, my life had been pretty normal. Loving parents, a nice home, school. And this woman was making it sound like I was in the witness protection program.

  She had to be senile. But what about Mom? She’d sent her away to boarding school and for sure Grandmother had been a lot younger. Maybe she was some kind of paranoid schizophrenic.

  “Let me assure you I’m totally sane.” She got up and wandered over to the wall of tropical plants, plucking dead leaves away and straightening the arrangement. Her face was set and she took a deep breath. “You’ll just have to trust me on this, Keira. It’s a lot to take in and I don’t want to overwhelm you with detail.”

  “But Grandmother! You uprooted me from my home! You owe me some kind of an explanation!” I clasped the sides of the chair, trying to keep from jumping up and shaking her! This was so unfair to be banished to another country with some bullshit story about protecting me.

  “And you will get that explanation... in time.” She wandered over and her fingers stroked my cheek as she gazed down at me. “Such a feisty girl. That’s good. But Keira, I wish you’d call me Nana. Grandmother sounds so formal and cold. I want us to be close.”

  I huffed a sigh. There was nothing worse than having to wait... being treated like a child. It was a hook to keep me there. I just knew it. And I’d be damned if I was going to call her Nana. This whole situation was so manipulative. I forced a small smile. “You don’t like Grandmother? How about GM, instead? It’s less formal and much more appropriate than ‘Nana’. As you said, we need to get to know each other before you’ve earned that title.”

  Her face broke into a wide grin and the crow’s feet at her eyes became deeper. “It’s a deal.” Her hand went to the wispy hair at the back of her head and she fluffed it, preening as she took a seat again. “I kind of like that. “GM. It’ll work.”

  Whatever. I craned my neck, gazing around at my surroundings. “This is a pretty posh place for just you and that Lawrence guy.”

  She looked at me evenly. “It’s paid for. As is the trust fund that has supported your family all your life—well before you were born, I might add.”

  She answered the question before I had it completely formulated in my head. This old gal was pretty quick-witted, that was for sure. “So GM, how did you make so much money?” I pulled the plate back, deciding to finish the sandwich. My stom
ach was growling and Lawrence made a mean ham and cheese.