The Westport Mysteries Boxed Set

by Beth Prentice

  As I drove to the house, it looked dark, scary and lonely. Carefully driving around the black sedan parked opposite my driveway, I parked my car and contemplated spending the night in it. I could lock the doors and not have to face going inside the house until morning when it was bright and sunny again. But no, I had to stop being stupid and get inside. There was nothing in there that could hurt me. I had personally checked every cupboard for dead bodies and scary creatures earlier in the day. Checking again would probably put my mind at ease, but there was no freaking way I was going to check in the dark.

  Entering the house, I turned on every light in every room, all except the attic which—as that particular light switch was at the top of the stairs—was way too creepy for me to even think about.

  I stood outside my bedroom door and looked towards the darkened staircase, terrified. I probably should have ventured up there and turned it on. Peace of mind is a powerful thing. Oh well, I’ll just lock the door, jump into bed and pull the covers over my head. That would work just as well.

  Chapter Two

  I’d been dreaming. Someone was standing over me, watching me while I slept. It wasn’t a reassuring-angel-watching-you kind of dream. It was a scary, some-lunatic-wants-to-kill-you kind of dream.

  I woke with a start.

  The hair on my arms and back of my neck stood on end as I sat up and had a good look around. Everything was the way I’d left it. Everything except the bedroom door. It was wide open, swinging on its hinge.

  I felt fear run through me, ending its journey in my stomach, where it swirled around, mixed with anxiety, and left me feeling sick. I looked out onto the darkness beyond the hallway, knowing I’d left every light in the house burning. So why was it dark?

  Thankfully my bedroom light was still on, so I reached for my phone and pulled back the covers. My toes curled into the dirty carpet when I stood up, I grabbed my handbag and quickly looked through it for a weapon. I came up with a can of deodorant. Oh well, it’s the best I was going to get right now. I shook the can, and walked towards the door, my heart pounding against my chest. What I really wanted to do was run. Run through the door, down the stairs, out to my car, and drive as far from here as I could get. But I guess I should grow a set and deal with whatever opened that door. The closer I crept, the harder my heart pounded.

  With the dream still lingering, I peeked into the hallway. The staircase leading up to the attic looked darker than ever, and not for the first time I wished I’d turned the light on up there before going to bed.

  I stood still, held my breath and strained to listen for any unfamiliar noise. Unfortunately—as this was my first night in this old house—every noise was unfamiliar.

  I couldn’t see anything or anyone that shouldn’t be there, so I relaxed a little bit. Not too much though. I still needed to walk down the stairs to check the kitchen and lounge. Shit, I hated this.

  Hearing the wind rattling the old windows, I wondered again why I hadn’t bought a brand new house.

  The stairs creaked under my weight, alerting any intruder I was on my way. I also forgot one of the treads was loose and nearly sped up my descent as it slipped when I trod on it. Grabbing the railing I regained my balance, but not before a small scream escaped my lips. Well, I guess I could cross Spy off my ideal career list.

  “Hello! Is anybody there?” I yelled, giving up on the creeping bit. I’m not really sure what I expected to get back. I didn’t exactly think any intruder would jump out yelling “surprise!” but I’d never been in this situation before, so who knew?

  Waiting for what felt like an eternity, the only response I got was the sound of the wind. Reaching the bottom stair I paused. I didn’t know which way to turn. Should I check the kitchen or the lounge first? I decided on the kitchen as it contained the only other exit. I could see the lock on the front door was firmly in place, so that was comforting, at least.

  I pushed myself as close to the wall as possible and slowly peered around the corner. The light, thankfully, was blazing. Well, blazing was a bit of an over-statement, but it did give me enough light to see the room was empty and the back door was closed.

  I let out a breath when I saw it was locked. Now all I had to do was check all the windows in all the other rooms and I could go to bed and back to sleep.

  Taking a deep breath, I entered the lounge. The only thing I found there was Cat snoring loudly on the couch. He didn’t seem upset by anything so maybe my door was only open because the house was old. Timber moved, didn’t it?

  Picking up Cat, I walked into the hall and checked the switch for the upstairs light. No matter how many times I flicked it, it didn’t work. I guess the bulb had blown.

  My heart rate decreased.

  As I continued my rounds of the house, I felt the loneliness creep in and threaten to smother me. Earlier in the day I thought it was because the house was unfamiliar, but now I feel like the house was watching me, letting me feel its sadness. I hugged Cat closer to me as a lump sat in my throat and I made my way back to bed, once again shutting and locking the door behind me.

  * * * *

  I did manage to doze just as the sun was rising, but woke with a start and let out a scream as something big, ginger and fluffy jumped onto my chest.

  Cat.

  Sitting there, yellow eyes staring into mine, he started to howl. Obviously it was breakfast time.

  Jumping out of bed and shaking myself off I looked at Cat, fighting the trembling threatening to take over my body. The sun was streaming in through my open curtains and even though I thought I had closed them last night, after the dream and then my early morning search of the house, I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  Taking some deep shuddery breaths I checked my alarm clock and saw it was already 6.20am. I reached over and gave Cat a pat, noticing my hand was still shaking.

  “You scared me,” I said, listening to it purr. I should pick it up and check what type of privates it had and then give it an appropriate name. Maybe after I’d had breakfast, as looking at a cat’s genitals was not something you should do on an empty stomach. Deciding a shower would probably make me feel much more human, I put my brave girl pants on, opened my bedroom door and headed to the bathroom.

  It wasn’t the most pleasurable experience I’ve ever encountered, but after a quick finger scrunch of the hair and a five-minute makeup routine, I dressed in jeans, T-shirt and my comfy flat shoes, and called my sister Molly to ask if she would meet me in town to help me buy some furniture.

  Of course she would, she loved spending other people’s money.

  * * * *

  Okay, I admit it. I wasn’t really paying as much attention to the road as I should have been as I reversed out of my drive and only narrowly missed the black sedan parked on the opposite side of the street. For some reason I couldn’t shake the dream and it had left me feeling anxious. I probably shouldn’t have had the three cups of coffee either. Caffeine is not the best thing to have when anxiety levels are high to start with. Slamming my foot on the brake pedal—my handbag sailed off the seat spilling all its contents on the floor—I put my hand to my heart as I felt the shot of adrenalin surge through me.

  Bugger, that was close.

  But seriously, what idiot parks there?

  Swearing under my breath, I put the car into forward and planted my foot, heading off in the direction of the shops, thinking how I would have to be more careful.

  By the time I got there, Molly was already in the store and well ahead of me. Finding her, I quickly realized that she had a trolley full of household items that seemed to be for me.

  “Molly, do I really need all this stuff?” I asked. She turned and glared at me. Today she was dressed in a tight fitting dress and had her long dark hair piled on top of her head so nothing obstructed the view of what was concealed inside her Victoria’s Secrets.

  “Well hello to you too, Lizzie.”

  “Sorry. Hello Molly. But what is all this stuff?” I asked, my voice
rising into the stratosphere.

  “It’s necessities, Lizzie,” she said, placing her hand on her hip and raising one eyebrow, almost daring me to argue with her. “Are you questioning my ability as a housewife?” she asked.

  “Molly, you’re a photographer who lives alone and who doesn’t know how to cook. Of course I’m questioning your abilities as a housewife.” Maybe I should have called my brother Danny for help instead.

  “I will have you know I am very capable of looking after myself. And of course you need all of this. I mean, just look at this really cute bowl,” she held up a stripy red cat bowl. “How could you possibly own a cat and not allow him to eat out of something so cute?”

  “Well, he didn’t seem to mind the old Chinese container I fed him with this morning,” I huffed. This was easy for her. It was not her budget she was spending.

  Sniffing indignantly, she turned her back on me and marched to the next section of the store, leaving the trolley for me to push. I could almost feel her rolling her eyes, even from back here.

  By the time we reached the registers, I was only narrowly avoiding a breakdown. It was with shaking hands and unsteady breathing that I handed over my credit card and asked for all the big stuff to be delivered, putting all the smaller stuff back in the trolley, ready for me to take home.

  “Molly, I need a drink,” I said, my voice betraying my sudden fatigue.

  “There’s a coffee shop over there,” she said pointing towards a large food court.

  “No, I need a real drink. Caffeine just isn’t cutting it today.”

  Laughing, Molly walked ahead of me as I was left to push the huge shopping cart through the crowds of people milling around.

  “I’m not joking.” I called after her. “Remind me to come alone next time,” I sulked, speaking to myself, as Molly was way ahead of me already. Molly walks with an air of authority and somehow the crowd just parts as she approaches, so it was no surprise that by the time I caught up, (sadly, I did not inherit her ability to part the seas) she was already seated.

  “Thanks for waiting for me,” I moaned as I sat down.

  “What? And miss out on a table. Snoozers are losers, Lizzie.”

  “Christ Molly, have a bit of sympathy. My back is killing me from all the cleaning I did yesterday. I thought holidays left you feeling refreshed and relaxed, not sore and cranky,” I said, rubbing the knots out of my shoulders.

  “You know, you would think you would be grateful for my help. But all you’ve done since you got here is whine. What the hell is the matter with you today?”

  “I’m sorry,” I grouched. “I’m just tired. I had a bad night’s sleep last night. I swear that house is watching me. If houses had feelings I’d say this one is depressed,” I said, thoughtfully. I could see Molly roll her eyes but her tone softened.

  “Lizzie, houses do not have feelings. You have an over-active imagination,” she sighed. “Anyway, how long are you on holidays for?”

  “Two weeks. But as I’m working from home now it won’t feel like I’m going back to work at all.” This was a scary thought. Looking at the attic this morning, I doubted my ability to get it finished in time. “I’m excited about not having to make the trip into the city every day and I’m not really going to miss the people there. Scott can keep me up to date on the gossip.” Scott’s my boyfriend. He’s not the perfect boyfriend but he is mine. “Plus, I get to work my own hours and best of all I won’t have to attend those stupid bloody leadership days our Boss is always organizing,” I said with a smile. This last thought totally energized me and I could feel my irritability start to fade.

  “Two weeks isn’t much time to get your office organized. Have you found a cute handyman to help you yet?” she asked, grinning.

  “Geez Molly. You keep going on and on about this handyman. What’s with you? Have you been having erotic dreams again?” Judging by the color her face went, I’d say I hit the nail on the head. “I’ll tell you what, if I do hire someone, you can come over and watch him work.”

  “Yeah, well make sure you do. I need a bit of excitement in my sad life,” said Molly, sipping her coffee which had just been delivered to our table.

  “I thought you’d sworn off men for a while?”

  “Yes, but I’m not blind. I can enjoy a good look, can’t I?”

  “Speaking of men, I plucked up the courage this morning and checked out Cat’s privates. And he’s definitely all boy,” I grinned.

  “Gee, you really do live an exciting life, don’t you?”

  “I bet it’s more action than you’ve had for a while,” I remarked.

  Sticking her tongue out at me, she asked, “Have you given him a name yet?”

  “Yes. After much debate and deliberation I’ve decided his name will be Cat.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed by your creativity.”

  “You know, as much as I didn’t want a pet, he does make the house feel less lonely,” I replied, choosing to ignore her sarcasm.

  “Honestly, I don’t know how you stayed there last night. I was expecting a knock on my door about midnight because you got too scared to stay there alone.”

  “I wasn’t scared at all.” Terrified was probably closer to my actual feelings. Molly just looked at me, eyes narrowed.

  “Yeah? Whatever.”

  Chapter Three

  Waking the next morning, I decided it was time I started on the attic. My mood was much more positive today after a better night’s sleep with no nightmares, and even though Cat had somehow miraculously opened my locked bedroom door, he did not sit on me this time demanding food.

  Standing in the attic, making a list of all the things needing to be done, I started to imagine what it was going to look like when it was finished. It had been an easy decision to make it my office as it was the smallest of the two bedrooms, but to make it workable the lovely shag pile carpet had to come up, the floral wallpaper had to be removed and then I needed to paint.

  Easy. I could do this without any help as I had watched many, many TV renovating shows and it all seemed so simple.

  Okay, now this is the point where I could bore you with all the details of how I attempted to get the carpet up, but in all honesty, I’m too embarrassed. So let’s just say it involved several broken nails and a lot of swearing. Two hours later I sat back and looked at my effort and decided I needed to find help. Fast.

  Oh and also cheap.

  I thought back to my conversation with Molly yesterday, and decided maybe a handyman was just what I needed.

  Remembering I’d seen a hand written ad on the notice board at the local shop, I made a quick trip back there and got a handyman’s number and name. Giving the number a call, I found out I was a lucky girl (you honestly have no idea just how lucky, but I’ll tell you about him soon), as he was in between big jobs so he could come over right away and have a look at what needed to be done. I wasn’t feeling very confident about this “in-between big jobs” bit. After this morning’s effort, I was thinking I needed him for quite a bit longer than that. But true to his word, he knocked on my door in no time.

  However, in my hurry to not let him get away, I ran down the stairs. I felt the old rotten wood creaking under my weight as I took them two at a time, and remembered about the loose tread just as I put my foot on it.

  I felt it slip, but it was too late for me to do anything about it. I didn’t even have time to grab the railing as I fell forward, hands out in front and the wind rushing past my face. Hitting the ground face first, my body followed, propelling me forward towards the front door.

  Oomph.

  Silence followed. I could hear the ticking of the clock as I lay still, mentally checking myself for injuries. Tears threatened an appearance, but I could feel my legs and arms, so no spinal injury. That’s a good start, right? My face was burning, probably from embarrassment, and my elbow was killing me. Pulling myself into sitting position, I looked down at the ugly red mark that had started to appear. Apart from that, all
seemed to be intact.

  Okay, job number one—fix stair tread.

  Looking towards the door I could see a silhouette of a man through the opaque glass, standing patiently on the doorstep waiting for me to open it. I would have liked to run and hide in a hole for a while—at least until my cheeks stopped burning—but with him standing outside the door, I didn’t have time for that.

  Okay, deep breathes. In and out, in and out.

  I wiped the moisture from my lashes, pulled myself to my feet and took a step towards the door. Feeling my knee ache but I reached out and turned the door handle.

  Plastering a fake smile to my red face, I looked out and blinked. Several times. Just in case my eyes were playing tricks on me or the fall had actually caused head injuries and I was hallucinating. I felt my eyes go wide and my lashes flutter uncontrollably. Tentatively, I reached out my hand and touched his arm—you know, just to make sure.

  Nope, no tricks. He was real.

  OMG.

  All thoughts of my aching knee gone, I stared up at a man so good-looking, I thought it was Adonis himself. Now, I think I should tell you I’m not very eloquent around good-looking men. Add that to my fall and embarrassment, my brain felt like it couldn’t cope.

  “Oh…um…hi,” was the best I could do.

  “Hi, I’m Riley. Would you be Lizzie, by any chance?” He had the most amazing voice. It was gentle even though it was deep, smooth and extremely sexy. His voice pretty much matched the rest of him. He stood very tall—I’d guess about 6’3”—looked to be about my age, with blond hair, and the most amazing blue eyes I had ever seen (think of the sky on a brilliant day). But what had me all aflutter were his eyelashes. They weren’t overly long, but they were dark and thick. Slowly lowering my gaze, my mouth hanging open very unattractively, I noticed he was wearing a white T-shirt over jeans and, from what I could tell, had a pretty damn good torso underneath.