House of the Golden Butterfly

by B. Groves

“Thank you,” Claire said.

  May turned serious. “It was too hard for her to talk about your brother.” May shook her head, her eyes giving a faraway look. “She said she knew that boy was with her one minute, and the next minute he was gone with that door wide open.” May turned and pointed to the sliding glass doors that led to the deck.

  “My paternal grandparents flew down to help in the search,” Claire said, her memories clear about them. “I’m guessing that’s when the seeds were planted for me to go and live with them.”

  “She said giving you up was her hardest decision, but it was for your own good,” May said. “I asked about it, but she never explained.”

  May straightened and shivered. “I was on schedule to come clean the week she died. Sometimes I wonder if I’d been earlier, I could have done something.”

  Claire smiled at May. “I wish I had been here to do something. I was with both my grandparents when they passed. They were my parents, but I would have been here for Rose if I could have.” Claire sighed. “After losing my whole family, I understand the importance of holding on to them.”

  “Mm-hm,” May agreed. “We take care of our own.”

  May, Claire, and Bishop settled into easier conversations, but Claire’s curiosity about the basement made her antsy to clear up business and go down there to explore.

  She had May scheduled for early next week to help her clean, and Bishop would work on fixing up the property when the weather let up.

  She was grateful for their help. Even at twenty-nine, this was a huge house to take care of on her own. She could do it, but it might take her months, and she was eager to write again.

  After a while, Claire walked the couple to the door and they said their goodbyes.

  Claire looked at the clock and ran to the grocery store after she looked inside the basement.

  May told her the local grocery store’s sandwiches were the best around.

  Besides, Claire needed some other things too before she tackled that refrigerator the next day.

  She hurried up the stairs, switched clothes in the laundry and walked back down the servant staircase.

  The shadows in the corners were growing, and her eyes searched every one of them to see if her brother would appear to her again.

  Claire stood in front of the basement door, her hand hesitating to turn the knob.

  She wondered what she would find down there, and if Rose was hiding anything.

  After taking a deep breath, she flung the door open only to find inky darkness greeting her from below.

  She half-expected to find the apparition of her brother standing on the steps waiting for her, but there was only steps and darkness.

  She reached around trying to find a light switch, but no such luck. She looked up to see the string hanging from a single light bulb over the steps.

  She pulled the string and the light bulb flooded the stairs and the basement below.

  Turns out that one little string lit up the whole basement.

  Claire looked down to see wooden steps.

  She debated whether to step down and risk breaking her leg or take the risk to see what was in the basement.

  Holding onto the door frame, Claire said a small prayer and set one foot on the steps.

  They creaked, but they were stable.

  Frowning she placed another foot onto the step and found them to be sturdy.

  Still, there could be unsafe steps below her.

  Carefully, she took another step and then another. Each time she was met with strong wooden stairs.

  She didn’t realize she hit the bottom until her feet finally touched the concrete.

  She turned to look back up at the doorway wondering why Rose would lie to May about the basement.

  Claire turned her gaze back to the huge room, and her eyes scanned the lower floor for anything odd.

  She meandered around thinking she would find something out of the ordinary, but there wasn’t anything in the room that any other basement would contain.

  The walls were a smooth concrete painted white. There were two windows five feet above her and they looked like they hadn’t been opened in a long time.

  The basement contained the boiler, a water heater, and Claire found the breaker panel and a fuse box on the wall.

  Copper pipes snaked around wooden beams above her.

  Claire scratched her head confused about why Rose was so adamant about keeping the basements off limits to anyone.

  She walked around the whole floor and didn’t find anything unusual.

  No secret rooms or doors that she could find. Only concrete walls.

  The only thing that bothered her was a strange musty smell, but it wasn’t unusual for a basement in a hot and humid climate to have weird smells.

  Claire turned to the far wall and found the concrete had deteriorated over the years and exposed some bricks that were painted over with white paint.

  Claire kneeled in front of the bricks and found they were loose like someone had covered up a hole and did a crappy job.

  She would have to ask Bishop if he thought she would need a professional to come and fix that part of the wall.

  Claire looked down and was surprised to find a dust around the area and what looked like a dead flower.

  She ran her hand over the dust and found it was from the concrete.

  Thinking the dust and the dead flower wasn’t anything important, Claire stood and left the basement.

  Her stomach was growling, and she wanted to grab her supplies for the next day.

  Claire closed the door behind her and waited for any sign of her brother, but the house was quiet.

  Taking a deep breath, Claire grabbed her jacket and handbag and the left the house.

  11.

  M ac decided not to cook at home tonight. He knew he didn’t want to turn into his sergeant and have a triple bypass by the time he was fifty years old because of eating crappy food on a cop’s schedule, but the chicken breasts he placed in the refrigerator that morning were not whetting his appetite.

  Mac was a great cook. When he attended college he thought he’d become a chef, but he’d always wanted to be a cop too, and after much debate, the cop’s starting salary was more appealing than a chef’s.

  Mac stopped at the local grocery store and pick up a sandwich before heading home for the night.

  Elijah was getting on him again getting out and dating. Mac didn’t want to hear it, especially this time of the year.

  He told his friend to shove it and left.

  Not right now.

  He had to let go. He needed to move on with his life. These past few years were difficult with his divorce and the son he lost.

  Before his mood turned sour, Mac pushed those thoughts aside and pulled into the grocery store parking lot and then headed right to the deli.

  He ran a list through his head trying to remember if he needed to pick up anything else, but couldn’t remember. When he was married, Julie used to rag him about a making a list before going to the grocery store. He never listened thinking his memory was all he needed. He was wrong, but he still didn’t make lists.

  All he wanted was a sandwich, a beer, and his bed.

  Mac walked around the corner to the deli when he spotted the wild blonde hair.

  The hair and the curves were unmistakable.

  Claire Westcott gazed at the menu as the kid behind the counter patiently waited for her to order.

  She said something that made the kid snicker and laughed at his response.

  Mac thought about turning around and walking back out of the store. He knew it would be a courtesy to talk to Miss Westcott and tell her he found her grandmother. He didn’t have to, but it’d be a courtesy.

  He didn’t know what the reaction would be since she seemed to appear out of nowhere.

  Mac looked to see her basket holding cleaning supplies, including bleach, and gloves.

  She must have had a big job ahead of her inside the house.

/>   He was being pulled towards her as she turned her head and pushed some of that luscious hair behind her ear and he inwardly cursed his weakness based on his reaction that he would need to hide.

  Thinking he had no control, Mac walked up beside her and let her notice him first.

  He smirked when she did a double take from what he could see from the corner of his eye and then she smiled.

  God, her smile was beautiful.

  “Hi, Officer. A pleasure to see you again,” Claire said in greeting.

  Mac turned and smiled.

  Mac wondered if he should let himself relax and have a nice civilian conversation with her.

  But, part of him wanted to know why she would move down to a house she inherited without showing to her grandmother’s funeral.

  Mac couldn’t explain why he needed to know this information. Maybe because he didn’t want to think this woman was an evil gold-digger who didn’t give two licks that her grandmother died alone and without help.

  Or maybe he thought she was sweet and pretty, and there was no way her intentions about moving to Lingate were ever anything but sincere.

  “How are you? Claire, right?” Mac asked. He already knew her name. Who didn’t? She was the talk of the town.

  “That’s right,” Claire said with a grin. “I didn’t think I’d run into you again.”

  Mac tried to hide his awkwardness. How long had it been since he did this kind of thing? Months? Years?

  The kid behind the counter walked away to do other work while they talked.

  “How was your day?” Claire asked.

  “Not bad. How about you?”

  Claire lifted her basket and then cleared her throat. She blushed, and Mac could tell she was trying to find the right words.

  She swallowed before she spoke up again. “I have a big job ahead of me tomorrow. The house I moved into… well… the refrigerator was never cleaned and the food’s been sitting there for months.”

  Mac made a disgusted face. It wasn’t his job to worry about what happened to the house after Rose died. He had only to make sure her death had been from natural causes in his final report. After that, it was up to the family or whomever to take care of the house.

  “Ugh,” Mac said. “I’m sorry for that.”

  Claire rolled her eyes and said, “It’s okay. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors by now.”

  Mac laughed uncomfortably. “That you’re Rose Kinsey’s granddaughter. I’m sure everyone in town knows who you are and if they haven’t read about you, they are living under a rock.”

  The kid stared at Claire and chimed in with his side. “I didn’t.”

  Claire shook her head but laughed and then turned back to Mac.

  Claire looked a little flustered but held her chin high. “Do they always write articles about new people moving into town?”

  She must have seen the Facebook article, Mac thought.

  “Also, they didn’t think I overheard them in the coffee shop this morning,” Claire commented with another roll of her eyes and her face turning dark from anger.

  Mac gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t mind those old assholes and those gossiping crows, they have nothing better to do than to sit around making up stories. Pretty soon they’ll move onto the next victim who is unlucky enough to come under their radar.”

  Claire shifted on her feet and then turned to him with a smile. “Sorry. I never had that before and I come from a small town in New Jersey.”

  “All new ball game down here,” Mac said.

  “Apparently. Especially with my family.”

  Claire looked back up at the menu and put a finger on her chin for her order.

  “I was going to get a hoagie…”

  The kid behind the counter snickered and Claire laughed. “Excuse me—I mean a sub. I can’t believe you don’t know that.”

  The kid shrugged and said, “I do, but it’s still a funny word.”

  Mac turned to the kid and chuckled.

  Mac turned to Claire to ask her to dinner.

  He needed to know this woman a little better. He wanted to sit down and have a deeper conversation with her. Why?

  Did he feel guilty about finding her grandmother and felt the need to confess to her?

  Did he want to know more about Rose Kinsey’s granddaughter, and why she appeared in Lingate after Rose died?

  “Listen, I’m off duty as you can see…” Mac pointed to himself. “Did you want to go grab something better than grocery store sandwich?”

  Mac couldn’t believe he did that. Did he ask Claire Westcott out on a date tonight?

  Was it a date? He was so far behind the times with these things.

  Claire’s mouth dropped in surprise, and Mac was expecting a rejection. He spoke up again and said, “I know a new bistro right down the street from here, and I heard they’re excellent.”

  He then waited expectantly for Claire to answer. The kid behind the counter even turned and waited for her answer.

  What the hell did he do? This woman hadn’t been in town a mere two days and already he was asking her out.

  “I guess you must be busy…” Mac stumbled.

  “I would love to.”

  Mac stopped in mid-sentence and forgot what he wanted to say next. The kid behind the counter grinned and said something, but quieted down when Claire shot him a glare.

  “Oh—Oh—Okay,” Mac said. He inwardly cursed his stutter. Show some confidence, you moron.

  “I have to pay for these first, and we can go,” Claire said.

  Mac nodded. They walked away from the Deli, and Mac waited while Claire paid for her cleaning supplies. He couldn’t believe she said yes. He expected to be rejected. He was elated she said yes, but nervous because she did.

  She turned and smiled at Mac when she was paying, and Mac’s insides turned to jelly.

  He hadn’t had this kind of a reaction to a woman in years. He tried to prepare for this mentally. What did he talk about? His job? Did he tell Claire up front what happened to his family four years ago?

  What did people do in these kinds of situations?

  After his divorce, he hung out at bars for a long time and tried to drink away his grief.

  She didn’t seem the type to hang out in bars. He heard most writers were introverts. Was she the same way?

  All these silly questions were racing through Mac’s mind. He tried to hide his palms sweating from being nervous.

  Claire finished her transaction and walked up to him, letting him know she was ready to go.

  Mac escorted her out of the store and tried to keep a steady voice while he gave her directions as she typed it into her GPS.

  “Oh, that’s right up the street,” she commented. “No need for this.”

  “Nah, follow me,” Mac answered.

  Mac had a Mustang and Claire commented she liked the maroon color. She pointed to her white SUV three spots down from his car.

  They separated and Mac wondered if Claire would drive off and not meet him at the restaurant.

  Well, no loss if she did, right?

  Mac pulled out of his parking space and waited for Claire. She was right behind him in the turn and the light they had to wait at about a block from the restaurant.

  Mac’s nervousness combined with excitement made his heart beat wildly out of his chest.

  Elijah had been getting on his case for the longest time about seeing women again, but he didn’t dare tell his friend about tonight unless something came from this.

  Mac pulled into the parking lot, and a mixture of more apprehension and relief coursed through him when he noticed Claire was right behind him.

  Both of them found a parking space and Claire got out of her car. The weather turned breezy and her hair was flowing with the breeze.

  Mac wondered how her hair felt to the touch.

  It looked soft.

  She pushed her stray hair out of her face and walked up waiting for him.

  “Smells good alr
eady,” she commented.

  “I heard they smoke all their meats. Are you ready?” Mac asked.

  “Sure am, Officer,” Claire said.

  Mac held the hostess immediately greeted the door open and them when they walked in.

  Mac heard great things about this place. This was his first time inside this bistro.

  He usually frequented the little mom and pop dining places where the greasy food could cause a heart attack on the spot.

  This place seemed more casually upscale.

  It was a slow weekday night so the hostess said they had a choice of where to sit.

  They picked a booth near a corner.

  The bistro was decorated with dark wooden tables, with red cushions on the seats. The walls were covered in brick and decorated haphazardly with pictures of Lingate. While other pictures were black and white professional photographs of famous landmarks around the world. He liked the panoramic one of The Eiffel Tower.

  The bar was well maintained with the bartender setting out some draft beers for a waiting server.

  He heard this place got their beer from local microbreweries, so it had to be decent.

  They were seated and given a drink list. The waitress told them to take their time ordering.

  “Order whatever you want,” Mac said.

  Claire gave him a grin and said, “Just wine. It says on the menu it’s from a local winery.”

  “I’ve read about a lot of wineries down here before I moved,” Claire commented while she read the list. “I hope to explore them soon.”

  “They’re a big tourist attraction down here.”

  The bored waitress came over and took their drink orders, Claire ordering the local wine and Mac ordering a local beer on tap.

  Both of them ordered a Caesar Salad for a starter after their drinks arrived.

  Claire then ordered a Rueben sandwich, and Mac ordered sliders.

  “We still ordered sandwiches,” Claire laughed when the waitress walked away.

  “Better than a grocery store, though.”

  Claire agreed and took a sip of her wine, commenting on the fruity flavor.

  “So, what brought you to Lingate?” Mac asked casually. He tried not to show his emotions. When did he tell her he found her grandmother? How would she take the news?

  “I’m sure everyone thinks I’m a low life for not coming sooner and taking the money and the house,” Claire said.