The Haunting of Crawley House (The Hauntings Of Kingston Book 1)
Page 32
Grabbing my makeup case, I sneered wondering if it had been rifled as well. I smeared some lipstick on and freshened my mascara. It was my grandmother’s eyes that stared back at me—the same shade of blue and the slight upward tilt at the corners. Well, she might be trying her best to make me into a mini-me of her but I was having none of it. At least I respected other people’s privacy, dammit.
My footsteps slapped the floor as I strode into the bedroom. Spying the wicker clothes hamper, I stomped over and lifted the lid. Yup. The clothes I’d been wearing earlier, lay in a tangled heap. If I hadn’t needed to wash them before, I definitely needed to do that now. Someone’s hands had been all over them.
***
When I stepped into the living room, GM was already perched on the sofa. Her eyes were crinkled in a smile above the choker neckline of the white dress draping her frail frame. The jewel of her tennis bracelet caught the light when she lifted her frosted glass of a pale drink. The only sign she’d been sleeping earlier was the fact that a few wisps of hair now escaped the loose roll at the back of her head.
“Keira. Would you care for a gin gimlet? Lawrence has made a pitcher of them.” She gestured to a sideboard tucked in an alcove near the window. “I hope you found your room comfortable and that you have everything you need.”
Gin gimlet, huh? My favorite drink when I go out with Cerise just happened to be the cocktail for this evening?
She gave me a quick smile. “I adore a nice gin gimlet in the evening; it’s my favorite cocktail.”
“I’ll bet it is,” I said as I ambled over to the table to fill a glass which had been left for me.
“So, do you like your room?”
“Everything is great!” I picked up the glass and turned to join her on the sofa. “The only thing... well, I’m a private person and I’m used to doing things for myself. I don’t need your maid to turn down my bed or pick up after me.” In an annoyed tone I added, “I don’t like people touching me, GM, and the idea of people I don’t know touching my clothes kind of grosses me out, okay?”
Her eyebrows rose and she smiled. “We don’t have a maid, Keira. There are a couple of women who come in twice a week to clean and dust but other than that, it’s just Lawrence and me.”
“Come on! My clothes... someone picked them up from the bathroom floor and deposited them into the hamper. And my comforter...” I knew Lawrence had gone downstairs before that had happened but I couldn’t be sure about the clothes. But wait... the water pressure in the shower had dropped like he’d been using an appliance somewhere else in the house.
GM took a sip of the drink, eyeing me above the rim of the glass. “Lawrence has prepared roast beef with Yorkshire pudding for dinner tonight. It’s one of my favorites... in honor of you being here.”
“So there’s no one else here but the three of us?” I wasn’t letting go of this just yet.
She chuckled and patted my knee. “Not a living soul, my dear.”
Ha! Not a soul that she knew of. She sounded totally sincere. Yet, how could she be so blasé about this after all the talk earlier about protecting me? The house was in the middle of nowhere and Lawrence hadn’t used a key to enter when we arrived from the airport. They probably never locked their doors. They’d get eaten alive in the Big Apple.
“GM,” I looked down at my lap for a moment, “someone moved my clothes from the bathroom, and it wasn’t Lawrence, you or me. I think someone has broken into your house.” Even as I said it, the absurdity of the situation made my neck get warm. A burglar who tidied up? That didn’t make any sense.
“I could save serious money on housekeeping if people broke in and cleaned houses.” The smile dropped from her lips and she leaned closer. “How did you feel when that happened?”
My head jerked back and I stared at her. What an odd question. “I was angry of course. I don’t like people pawing through my stuff!”
“That’s all?” She looked down at the drink in her hand. “You didn’t smell anything or feel a little off-kilter?” Her dark eyes rose to meet mine.
I huffed a fast sigh. Someone was in the house and she was acting like some kind of therapist? Asking about my feelings?
My forehead tightened. I had clutched the side of the sofa because of the dizziness when I saw the coverlet of the bed pulled back. Was this what she meant? “Actually, I did feel a little nausea.” I leaned away from her and my grip on the glass became tighter. “GM what’s going on?”
At the series of taps, I turned and saw Lawrence standing in the archway, his gaze gentle as he watched my grandmother. “Anytime you’re ready, Pamela? Dinner is warm in the oven if you’d like another drink with Keira.”
“Thank you, dear. I’ll just finish this one and I’ll be ready. Another ten minutes?”
He turned to me. “How’s your drink? Would you like me to make another for you?”
Lawrence had made me the sandwich earlier and served the soda. Had he put anything in it which would have made me dizzy? Since I arrived, I’d had two spells of it, something which had never happened before. “Don’t go to any trouble. If I want another, I’ll make it, Lawrence. Thanks anyway.”
I watched him nod and then disappear soundlessly across the foyer. “He’s been with you a long time, hasn’t he? I mean, he told me he practically raised my mother.” My eyes searched her face.
She nodded, making the diamond-drop earrings sparkle in the low light. “It seems like forever. I was staying in the Ritz. Your mother was only two at the time. He was working as a waiter there, delivering room service for Susan and the nanny I’d hired to look after her. I was out visiting friends but when I returned that night, Lawrence was there, in the room reading a bedtime story to Susan.”
“What? Where was the nanny?”
“She was out cold. She’d been drinking and actually staggered when he brought the food up. He didn’t feel right leaving Susan in her care. It’s a good thing he stayed because it wasn’t long after, that the old fool actually passed out.” She took a deep breath and smiled. “I hired him on the spot, seeing his concern for my little girl. We’ve been together ever since.”
GM was rich; she admitted as much to me. It showed from the house and furnishings to the very clothes on her back. Maybe Lawrence had seen an opportunity back then to get close to my grandmother. It was his word that the nanny had been drunk. What if he poisoned her to take her place and ever since he’d been ingratiating himself to GM to live the highlife? GM had to be at least ten years older than him and maybe he was now eyeing his inheritance.
Before I arrived that is.
“Does he eat with us?” Surely he wouldn’t doctor the food if he had to eat it as well.
“Usually we eat together but he won’t while you’re here. He wants to give us a chance to visit. He’s thoughtful that way. He was like a father to Susan.” She sighed and her gaze drifted to the window, where the fading light cast a glow.
“So who is my grandfather? Whatever happened to him?” Now that I’d met my grandmother, I was curious to know more.
“I don’t know.” She smiled and her eyebrows bobbed high.
“You don’t know where he is...” I shook my head and leaned closer, “or you don’t know who my mother’s father is.”
“Both, I’m afraid.” She smiled and some color came into her cheeks. “You must think I’m awful to admit that, but it’s the truth. For years, I was the party girl. I had a series of relationships.” She chuckled. “Is it a series when they’re concurrent? Let’s just say your grandfather was a kind man. They were all kind and devilishly handsome.”
She set the unfinished drink on the coffee table and then her hands closed over the cane, pulling herself to her feet. A smile lit her face when she looked down at me. “You’d never know it now, but at one time I was the belle of the ball. Dancing till dawn and sharp as a tack the next day.”
For just a moment the old flame sparked in her face and I had no trouble believing what she’d said. Even
though lines etched her skin, her eyes and the bones in her face showed classic beauty. She’d been such a hot commodity that she didn’t even know who the father of her only child was. To be shocked would be hypocritical. I’d had my share of guys as well. Luckily, birth control had advanced since my grandmother’s time.
I swallowed the rest of my drink and stood up, extending my elbow to her. “You are a card GM. How did Mom ever turn out so conservative? None of those guys you were with were like that?”
She squeezed my arm before her hand rested gently there. “If they were, I wouldn’t have been with them very long. No, it had to be some recessive quirk in the gene pool.”
I laughed and we entered the dining room, arm in arm—two peas in a pod. Yeah, I was warming up to the old doll.
***
The table was set with fine china and a candelabra which cast flickering warmth over the fresh bouquet of red roses. I watched Lawrence stand at the sideboard slicing the beef which held a tinge of pink in the center. Bowls of steaming oven-roasted potatoes, Harvard beets and the Yorkshire puddings were lined up before me. If Lawrence was trying to poison me, it wouldn’t be with this meal, not when GM would be sharing the food. There was a genuine affection between the two of them.
“Bon appetite!” Lawrence set the platter of meat next to my grandmother and then with a smile, he left us to our dinner.
“Dig in, Keira. Lawrence is an excellent cook.” She helped herself to the beef and then slathered it with gravy. “Is there anyone special in your life, Keira? Some guy who stands out?”
“No one in particular. I went out with a guy for a year but it kind of fizzled and died. We parted friends and I still follow him on Facebook.” I took the platter of meat from her hand and put two thick slices onto my plate.
“All this social media! In my day, we really did socialize and the media was there to take pictures. Oh the glamour of the dresses and movie stars. DeNiro and Redford were crazy cardsharps, did you know that?” She smiled and her eyes closed for a moment, reliving the time.
“They’re not my grandfather then. Not from the sounds of it.”
THUD!
I jumped in my seat and spun around to see what had caused the bang. A picture, a small one displaying a vase spilling over with yellow roses, had fallen to the floor.
Lawrence burst through the door and his eyes examined GM. He shot a dark look my way before he spotted the picture on the floor. “Again?” he said.
“I’m afraid so.”
As he stepped over to where the painting lay, he muttered, “That Jarrod!”
“Lawrence!” GM snapped.
“Oh, sorry.” He glanced over at me. “I’m upset with... the handyman we use is all...” His voice faded. I could tell he was lying through his teeth, but held my tongue. He picked the picture up, feeling the back of it and holding a thin wire between his fingers. He glanced at GM and sighed. “Sorry. The wire snapped.”
The glow of the candles cast dark shadows under my grandmother’s eyes when she set her knife and fork on the plate before her. She took a ragged breath and her eyes were hard staring at him. “Tomorrow, please check the other painting. I don’t want my Waterhouse damaged.”
“Of course, Pamela.” He took the painting with him when he walked back through to the kitchen.
The mood in the room turned solemn. GM sat back and lifted the napkin from her lap, depositing it next to her plate. She looked tired and drawn from the surprise of the picture falling, the frailty of her years showing in the lines of her face. “You’ll have to excuse me, Keira. I’m afraid I didn’t sleep well earlier and I’m exhausted. Please finish your dinner and don’t worry about me.” She rose to her feet, holding the edge of the table in her hands. Her skin was mottled and parchment thin, showing a map of blue-tinged veins.
She tapped the cane on the floor, and immediately, Lawrence appeared, pushing the door wide. The expression on his face was tight and worried. “Pamela?”
“I’m ready, Lawrence. Please take me to my room and then see that Keira has everything she needs.”
My stomach was a knot as I watched them toddle across the room and then go through the door. The picture falling had really shaken GM up. But, considering her age, any sort of shock would probably do that. But she wasn’t the only one. A pall had settled in the dining room and the flames of the candles faltered, casting shadows in the corners of the room. The hair on the back of my neck tingled and I turned to examine behind me. I felt eyes peering at me but there was nothing there. Nothing but the painting of the Lady of Shalott.
The room felt like it was closing in. I rose and picked up the two plates, pushing my way into the kitchen. The gleaming aluminum refrigerator purred quietly and the overhead lights were bright and steady. A plate of food sat untouched on the table below the window. I breathed a sigh of relief, only then aware that I’d been holding my breath.
The feeling of being watched evaporated in the glare of the modern kitchen. I finished scraping the plates and loading them into the dishwasher. There were still items in the dining room but for some reason the thought of going back there totally creeped me out.
Lawrence could get them later. It had been a long day and I was tired. The strain of meeting my grandmother was wearing me down. I’d feel better in the morning after a good night’s sleep.
EIGHT
I GOT OUT OF MY CLOTHES and hung them in the small closet set next to the bed. I tossed my underclothes in the hamper and grabbed a cotton nightgown from the chest of drawers. There was no way I was taking any chances leaving clothes lying around. The comforter was still pulled back and I clambered into it, pulling it up to my chin.
When I reached to turn the bedside lamp off, I was in complete, silent blackness. No streetlights filtered into the room and no cars or buses rushed by. I was in the country, in the middle of nowhere. I’d never experienced anything as still or dark as this. I might have a hard time drifting off to sleep with all this peace and quiet.
I turned the light back on and got out of bed. Crossing the room to the kitchenette, I flipped the fluorescent light under the cabinet to life. It lit the green countertop but the glow didn’t extend much beyond the love seat and chair. Just enough light to be familiar for me to sleep with. With a resigned, yet thankful shrug of my shoulders, I retrieved my laptop. So much for being off the grid. I surfed till I found a site which featured street noise, with muted car horns and the sound of traffic. I left it on my desk with the speakers turned low and the screen off.
When I started back to the bed, the sound of water hissing through a tap filled my ears. I peered at the computer and then turned to look down the hallway where the bathroom was. A light showed under the door, spreading out across the hardwood. I froze in place, my heart leaping to my throat. There was someone in my bathroom! Probably that same person who had taken my clothes and arranged the bed for me!
I looked around for a weapon. Something to defend myself in case whoever it was, was dangerous. I had a feeling it was a woman, not some burly thug. Why else would they pick up my laundry?
The kitchen! I rushed over and yanked a drawer out, Good! There were knives lined up there. I grabbed the biggest one and tiptoed down the hall. Stopping just outside the door, the sound of water pouring from the tap was louder now. But other than that, there was nothing else.
Quick as a flash, my hand gripped the door handle and I burst inside. My eyes took in all of the room in one sweep and my jaw fell open. The only sign of life was the water hissing from the tap and spiraling down the drain. I stepped over to the tub and peeked behind the shower curtain. Again, nothing. My shoulders drooped and a sigh of relief passed my lips. I stood for a moment, willing my heart to slow, my hand gradually loosening its grip on the wooden handle of the knife.