“Yep.” The ornate wooden door was closed. Landon tried the knob. “It’s locked.”
My eyebrows popped up. “Why would it be locked?”
“Monsters?” Landon suggested. “Meth lab? Did the lawyer give you any other keys?”
“Just the one.”
“Might as well try it.”
I shook my head, doubting it would work. I jiggled the key and turned the knob. “I think something clicked, maybe? But it won’t open.”
“Let me try.” Landon turned the key and knob as I had, but he also leaned heavily on the door.
The seal popped and the door swung in so fast, it brought Landon with it. He landed hard on his side in the darkened room as a musty miasma surrounded us.
“Are you OK?” I squealed, kneeling next to him, not sure whether to touch him. An angel and a demon had a rapid-fire argument inside my head about the pros and cons of touching Landon.
“Fine. All in a day’s work.” He sounded grumpy, but he gave me a half smile and held out a hand. I grabbed it, stood, and made a show of pulling him to his feet.
It was pretty nice touching Landon.
Only then did I look around. I sucked in a breath. “Is this what I think it is?”
Chapter 6
Landon, still dusting himself off, moved to where speckles of light were shining through tall curtains on one side of the room. He tugged at the drapes, and in slow motion, they disintegrated off their curtain rods, leaving behind a tornado of dust motes swirling in a wash of sun. The sudden illumination revealed a time capsule: a dazzling library.
Adustydazzling library, to be sure. Still, it was just the sort of thing I’d always hoped a library would be when I escaped into books as a kid. For one thing, it had splendid light, and the top panels of the large windows were blue and green stained glass, like what we’d seen in the turret. At the back of the house, this room faced north into what was probably a lovely garden at one time. Now the view was mostly trees and scrubby bushes.
I hugged myself at the discovery of this unexpected treasure. “This is incredible. Last night online I read that the original owner, Mrs. Fountain, started Bohemia’s first library.”
“She must have loved books,” Landon said. “And no one else cared enough to take them out of here.”
Floor-to-ceiling bookcases were stuffed with volumes, their spines a rainbow of muted colors, promising adventure and ancient knowledge. A rolling ladder allowed access to the top shelves. Resting in a round wooden stand was a globe that was probably outdated fifty times over. Big shapes in the middle of the room were covered with fabric that once was white.
“I hope those books don’t disintegrate like the curtains did,” I said.
“Valid concern.” Landon moved to the ladder, tested the bottom rung with one foot, then easily climbed up while I held my breath. He pulled a book gingerly from the top shelf and opened it. To my relief, it didn’t fall apart in his hands. He sniffed it. “It’s been here for a long time without air-conditioning, but I don’t think they’re ruined. They just smell kinda funny.”
“You smell kinda funny.”
“Ha ha.” He climbed down. “There’s even furniture in here.”
I regarded the blocky, sheet-draped shapes in the middle of the room. “Might just be ghosts taking a nap.”
“You’re a ghost taking a nap.”
“Sometimes I feel that way.”Damn it.I didn’t want him to know how invisible I felt most of the time. “I — I’m pretty sure it’s not ghosts.”
“Coffins?” His tone was light, but his brown eyes held a question. A question for me, not a question about ghosts or vampires.
I pulled a cloth off one of the shapes, and a light-blue brocade settee emerged. At least I thought it was a settee. It was the sort of thing someone like me, whose main experience with furniture was thrift stores and Rooms To Go, would call a settee.
“Must be original to the house.” Landon hopped off the bottom rung of the ladder and wandered over to look at it.
The settee was pretty but stiff-looking, and the fabric hadn’t held up well.New upholstery,I wrote in my notebook. “Definitely not the kind of thing you sit on comfortably while reading a book.”
“What’s this?” Landon pulled the cloth off another piece. “Library table! Oh, this is excellent work,” he said as he examined the corners, carved drawers, elegantly turned legs and what looked like brass casters on its feet so it could be wheeled around. He stroked the wood of the six-by-four table. “Oak, I think.”
