Yuletide Peril

by Irene Brand

  “That’s my good fortune, I suppose.” Janice looked at her watch. “Let’s look upstairs so we can go back to town. I don’t want to impose on your sister to keep Brooke any longer.”

  “She won’t mind,” Lance said, then stood and walked toward a door in the rear hall that must lead to the upstairs. The door was locked.

  Disappointed, Janice said, “I’d hoped to see the whole place while we were here.”

  “I could break down the door, but you’ll have enough repairs to make without me adding to the list. We can bring a skeleton key and go upstairs next time.”

  Next time! Janice glanced at him curiously. Apparently, Lance’s interest in her home wasn’t to be a one-time event. He peered into the kitchen as they walked down the hall. “Let’s see where that leads,” he said, motioning to a small door to the right of the stove.

  “It’s a pantry,” Janice said. “A lot of older houses have them.”

  A few jars of green beans and some containers of jelly were on the shelves. Mutilated cartons of rice and flour had been riddled by mice or rats and the contents spilled on the floor. Lance opened another door that led to a side porch, where a door in the floor opened into a cellar. A damp, moldy scent met their nostrils when Lance lifted the door on squeaky hinges.

  “I’ll check it out,” Lance said. He walked down a few steps and flashed the light around a small, dirt-floored room. “There’s a gas furnace down here,” he reported, “and a water pump. County water is available now so you won’t need the pump, but you will need a plumber to check the water lines.”

  Although he didn’t want to overly encourage Janice, Lance was optimistic that this house could be turned into a comfortable home. It would take determination as well as money, but Janice seemed to have an ample supply of both. If the menace hanging over the property could be dispelled, she could live at Mountjoy.

  Janice must have had similar thoughts, for she took another look in all the rooms and said, “I’ll give this a lot of thought over the weekend before I make a decision.”

  He closed the window behind them. The fog had lifted and they stepped out into the sunlight, which made the property seem much less threatening. Noting the optimism mirrored on Janice’s face when she turned to take a final look at the house, Lance hesitated to burst her bubble. But Janice needed to know something else before she made a decision to live at Mountjoy, and he wondered if he should tell her. Santrock may have told her, but he doubted it. Before they stepped through the gate, he said, “Do you know what caused your uncle’s death?”

  His voice seemed troubled, and she glanced quickly toward him. “No.”

  Taking a deep breath, Lance said, “He committed suicide at Mountjoy.”

  “What!”

  “There was some talk that he was murdered, but it looked more like suicide. The police department searched around a while, but they couldn’t prove anything.”

  Janice’s optimism about her inheritance crashed. She felt as if the bottom had dropped out of her world. “My dad didn’t talk much about his family,” she said in a strained voice, “but I’ve heard him say that someone in each generation of Reids died a tragic death.”

  “Yes, that story goes around.” He hesitated, but she had to be warned. “It just isn’t any Reid, but the owner of the house.”

  Her eyes widened. “If that’s the case, then I might be the next victim.”

  “I don’t want to scare you because I personally think it’s just a superstition. But that’s one of the reasons the place has gained a bad reputation.”

  Janice had been somewhat animated as they’d left the house, but her hand pulled at the neck of her shirt and panic shadowed her eyes.

  Lance placed his hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded and swallowed with difficulty. “Don’t worry, I’m not the fainting kind. But why didn’t Mr. Santrock tell me how he died?”

  Lance shook his head. “Maybe he thought you already knew. Would it have made any difference in your plans to live at Mountjoy?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He opened the gate and closed it behind them. Taking her arm, he steered Janice toward the car. When she was seated, he walked around the car to the driver’s door and sat beside her.

  “I didn’t want to tell you,” he said, “but I thought you should know before you made a definite decision.”

  “And I do thank you,” she said gratefully, but Lance noted the despair in her voice. She clenched her hands together until her knuckles were white. He leaned toward her and took her hands. Gently, he unwound her fingers until they relaxed in his grasp.

  “Janice,” he said softly, “you’ve carried a heavy load by yourself for too long. I’ll help you over the rough places as much as I can. I’d like to be your friend.”

  She withdrew her hands from his grasp, and her slender, delicate throat worked nervously. Lance waited anxiously for her response. He’d already determined that Janice, of necessity, had become an independent person. Would she readily accept a stranger into her life? And why did her answer mean so much to him?

  Sunlight slanted through the car windows and momentarily blinded Janice as she exchanged a troubled glance with Lance. She turned her head quickly, so he wouldn’t detect the joy that must be revealed in her eyes. What had happened to her? She’d always shouldered her own responsibilities. Now that Lance had offered his friendship, her heart spun giddily at the prospects of having someone share the despair that threatened to crush her. Momentarily her independence surfaced. Would it lead to more heartbreak if she trusted Lance and he disappointed her?

  She faced him again and gazed with deep concentration into his face. Lance held his breath, fearful that she’d reject him. But a yearning look came into Janice’s eyes, and she said softly, “I’ve only had two really close friends in my whole life. I left Miss Caroline behind at VOH. My friend Maddie is busy with college, and I don’t see her often. I’ve never felt so alone in my whole life.” She held out her hand. “I desperately need a friend, Lance.”

  The tension in the car was suffocating as thoughts they couldn’t express bounced from one to the other.

  Janice’s eyes were luminous with unshed tears. He took her proffered hand, squeezed it and lifted it to his cheek. “I’ll be your friend.”

  Further words seemed unnecessary, so Lance reluctantly released her hand and started the car. They were silent during the short drive into Stanton.

  Brooke had enjoyed her trip to the movies with Taylor and her mother. She chatted about it as Lance drove them back to the motel, so Janice and Lance didn’t have any time for private conversation.

  When they got out of the car and Brooke ran into the motel, Janice said, “I appreciate your offer of friendship, but being my friend doesn’t mean you have to worry about my problems all the time. I’ll try to stay out of trouble for a few weeks—you’ll have your hands busy with getting the school year underway. You must have a large student body.”

  Lance felt as if he’d been dismissed, and he wondered if he had been too forward in pushing his friendship on Janice. But she’d seemed receptive to the idea.

  Trying to match her mood, he said, “There are about four hundred kids. We have kindergarten through the sixth grade.”

  “Which is going to be a big adjustment for Brooke,” Janice said. “Please send me word if she needs any special help.”

  “I will be busy,” he said, “but not too busy to help you. Please let me know if you need anything.”

  She nodded agreement as she went into the motel. He watched her purposeful stride and ramrod-straight back, wondering why her attitude had changed so abruptly. He had intended to ask the Reids to attend his church tomorrow, but he didn’t want to push Janice too far. He’d only asked for her friendship, and he didn’t want their relationship to continue beyond that point. He’d lived thirty years without any serious involvement with women. He liked living his own life. So why start up a relationship now?
r />   Chapter Five

  Sitting in their motel room, as she partially listened to Brooke chatter about the movie, Janice wondered why she’d been so abrupt with Lance. The man had been a wonderful help today, and she’d enjoyed his company immensely.

  The more she thought about it, she realized that she was afraid of Lance Gordon—afraid she’d become too dependent on him. The years before she’d been sent to VOH, she had to depend on herself. She’d allowed herself to be dependent on Miss Caroline, but at eighteen she left all of that behind. For the past three years she’d been on her own. Wasn’t it less traumatic that way? If you didn’t rely on anyone else, then you wouldn’t be disappointed if they failed you.

  Miss Caroline had told her often enough that God was a friend who would help her through any circumstances. After she’d moved to Willow Creek and gotten a job, when she wasn’t working on Sunday morning, she’d sometimes gone back to VOH for worship services. But she’d gone mostly to see Miss Caroline, rather than to worship.

  But now that she was responsible for Brooke, she should take her to church. She moved to the window and looked at the church across the street from the motel. The date carved in the stone lintel above the door indicated that the gray stone building had been built in the early part of the twentieth century. A tall spire and columns graced the front of the church that was reached by six wide stone steps. Stained-glass windows added to the magnificence of the structure.

  Squinting to read the worship hours on the lighted sign, Janice said, “Maybe we’d better go to church tomorrow. Sunday school starts at ten o’clock, but we can still sleep late, go downstairs to the breakfast bar and get to the church on time. Okay?”

  “I guess so,” Brooke said with some hesitation, “but I won’t know anybody.”

  “You’ll make friends easily enough, but we can skip Sunday school tomorrow and go to the worship service at eleven.”

  “I’d like that better, and we can even sleep later.”

  “That might be a good idea. You can’t sleep in Monday morning because school starts at eight.”

  Brooke groaned, but it was a half-hearted response, for she was a good student and liked school. Going to school had never been a pleasure for Janice. About the time she’d gotten settled in one school, her parents would move. At VOH, because of her poor scholastic background, it had been an effort to keep up with her classmates. Janice longed for a college education, but she sometimes questioned whether she had the educational skills to get a college degree.

  Long after Brooke was asleep, Janice lay awake contemplating her future. It would be weeks, maybe months, before she could have Mountjoy ready for occupancy. Her inheritance seemed like a fortune to Janice, but she knew it wouldn’t last long when she started renovating the house. If she used all the money to give the house a face-lift, she would have nothing left for the upkeep of the house and living expenses.

  How could she work to support them, go to school and be a mother to Brooke? Even if she took only part-time classes, she couldn’t do it at night or on Saturday because she’d have to look after Brooke. Perhaps she should have left Brooke with her foster parents until she had a home ready for them.

  The longer she thought about it, the more desperate she became. Janice finally got out of bed and sat in a chair to sort out her options.

  The chain store she’d worked for in Willow Creek had a store in Stanton, too. With her three years of experience, she could probably get a job any time. SuperMart provided health benefits and she had to consider that. Her insurance from the store would expire in three months, and without an income, she couldn’t pay for health insurance for the two of them. Even if she made Mountjoy livable, it would be two or three months before she could move there. She couldn’t afford to live in a motel and eat in restaurants during that time. Would she have to take an apartment after all?

  And what about the mystery surrounding Mountjoy? Had her uncle been murdered? Would she ever feel safe living there?

  Because of her lack of sleep, the last thing Janice wanted to do was go to church, especially with a new congregation where she wouldn’t know anyone. But she roused herself from the chair where she’d spent the night, showered and dressed. She woke Brooke, and while she took a shower, Janice went downstairs to the breakfast room and brought hot chocolate and rolls up to their room.

  They arrived at the church just as the Sunday school classes were dismissed. An usher greeted them, handed each of them a bulletin and motioned for them to follow him down the center aisle.

  “Hey, Brooke.”

  Taylor Mallory appeared behind them. “Hi, Miss Reid. I’m glad to see you. Mama told me I should have asked Brooke to come to Sunday school.” She took Brooke by the hand. “Both of you come sit with Mama and me.”

  Brooke glanced at Janice—a question in her eyes. Janice nodded and smiled at the usher. “Guess we have a young guide this morning.”

  “That’s fine,” he said and patted Taylor on the shoulder. “The Mallorys will look after you.”

  As she followed the two children halfway down another aisle, Janice wondered if Lance would be sitting with his family. Linda Mallory was alone, but her smile of welcome was genuine.

  “Thanks for choosing our church,” she said to Janice, and she moved over in the pew to make room for the two girls to sit between them.

  The organ prelude had started and Janice said quietly, “We’re at the motel across the street and this seemed the likely place to attend.”

  “I thought Lance would invite you to church. I guess in the excitement of looking over Mountjoy, he forgot it. He has mixed emotions about your property,” Linda said.

  Janice grimaced slightly. “So do I.”

  The organ music increased in volume as the choir moved into place. Lance followed the pastor into the sanctuary.

  “Lance is the lay-leader for this month,” Linda explained quietly.

  Lance’s eyes roamed across the congregation, and when he made eye contact with Janice, he looked surprised. Surely he wouldn’t think she was taking advantage of his offer of friendship when she didn’t even know his family attended this church.

  But he smiled in her direction, and when he welcomed visitors, he said, “Janice Reid and her sister, Brooke, have moved to Stanton. They’re sitting with my family this morning. Brooke will be starting school tomorrow.”

  Janice sensed curious stares toward them, and she figured the congregation was linking them with the infamous local Reid family. To dismiss this dismal thought, she focused on the stained-glass window behind the choir loft that depicted the artist’s concept of Jesus and His disciples crossing the Sea of Galilee. The expressions on the faces of the disciples showed their fear of the storm, and Janice identified with their terror. Most of her life had been stormy and her fears had already etched faint lines on her face. She transferred her gaze to Jesus, noting the serenity on His face. The artist had depicted His concern for His disciples, when he lifted His hand and commanded the storm to cease.

  Janice bowed her head and prayed that Jesus would calm the storms in her life. Her prayer was partially answered when she listened to the pastor’s message on friendship.

  The pastor’s text was taken from the eighteenth chapter of Proverbs. “‘A man that has friends must show himself friendly; and there is a friend that sticks closer than a brother.’” The minister extolled the virtues of close friendships stating that Jesus was called the Friend of sinners. Janice knew that she was fortunate to have Lance’s friendship, especially when he expected nothing in return. That was the unselfish kind of friendliness Jesus expected of His followers.

  She wished she wasn’t so hesitant to accept friendship, but Janice wasn’t at her best when meeting new people. After the benediction, in spite of the pastor’s message, she quickly said goodbye to the Mallorys and left the church as soon as possible. She and Brooke had crossed the street, ready to enter the motel when a woman called, “Just a minute, Miss Reid.”

 
Janice turned to see a large woman, probably in her mid-sixties, bearing down on them like a battleship going into action. Her knees were bowed with arthritis and she favored her right knee as she hurried toward them. Because of her haste to intercept Janice, the woman was breathing heavily when she reached them.

  “I’m Henrietta Cunningham,” she said, and apparently realizing that the name meant nothing to Janice, she explained, “I was your uncle’s housekeeper.”

  “Oh, yes. Mr. Santrock mentioned that you’d worked for him during the last years of his life.”

  “Your uncle was very good to me, and I want to help you any way I can. Let me take you and your sister out to lunch.”

  For a moment Janice was horrified, thinking she was going to cry. She instantaneously had the feeling that Henrietta was another Miss Caroline. She was brusque where Miss Caroline was quiet; she was huge where Miss Caroline was small; she was dark where Miss Caroline had been fair. But like Miss Caroline, she was reaching out a helping hand.

  “Do you really mean that?”

  “Of course, I do,” Henrietta said, her brown eyes sparkling. “Wouldn’t have said so if I hadn’t meant it. Let’s have lunch and then we’ll see what I can do for you.”

  “I need advice more than anything else. Lance Gordon and his family have been helpful, but I’d like to talk to someone who knew the Reid family well.”

  Henrietta steered her to the church parking lot adjacent to the motel. “On second thought, let’s go to my house to eat. Restaurants are always crowded on Sunday. I often take someone home with me for lunch, so I’m ready for company.”

  She stopped beside an old car that had a battered front fender. “Hop in,” she said. “I don’t live far from the church, but with my bad knees, I can’t walk any distance.”

  Janice pulled forward the passenger’s seat of the two-door car, and Brooke scooted into the back seat. Janice sat beside Henrietta, who started the car, shifted the standard gears, roared the engine and shot out of the parking lot with a speed that jerked Janice’s head backward.