Of course, the house was hers to do with as she pleased, they said. But there were difficulties with the entailment and the caretaker agreement apparently. And local issues regarding the woodlands on the estate, the use of the land and the like. She wasn’t quite sure what Theo had got up to but his mind had always been on ecology rather than legalities so heaven alone knew what she was walking into.
When she’d finally got hold of the family solicitors, they’d sent her contact details for the caretaker, Mr Walker. But when she’d emailed him, she hadn’t even received a reply for over a week. Not even when she sent her arrival time and asked him to confirm receipt by return. It was only this morning, as she’d picked up the car at the airport, ready to set off, that the single, terse message had appeared.
I’ll have the master suite ready for you.
Just that. To be honest she wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but something more than that. Not joy or delight, sure. It was all far too complicated for that. But something.
Gabe had just laughed when he rang to check she’d landed safely. He’d said LAX was only eleven hours or so away if she wanted to turn around and come straight home. She assumed hethought that was funny. The thing about her ex was he always found himself way more hilarious than she did.
They were still close. After all, they still worked together, agreeing that they were much better as friends and business partners than anything else. Gabe was best friends with everyone.
It could have been so much worse, she supposed. And he always had her back. Even now. Especially supporting her with the notoriety and the fickle fame from being the great debunker onThe Ghost Patrol. And all the fall-out from that.
She wasn’t cut out for the way that about half the internet was obsessed with her, not like the others. It was one of the reasons she’d decided to come to Wildewood in person. To get away from it. The Sanderson case…
No one liked being exposed as a fraud. Ted Sanderson least of all. He had taken to the internet, and the internet had loved him with all his obsessions and righteous indignation. He turned his ire on her particularly and they followed joyfully. Apparently this was all her fault. Getting herself out of Dodge had seemed like the best possible idea.
The money from the TV show was keeping her afloat, and would for some time. And she had a book to write.
The Sceptic’s Sceptic’s Guide to Dashing Hopes and Destroying Dreams.
Yeah, her publisher would love that title.
This was a sabbatical and an escape. But she had simply had enough of the whole crazy circus.
And once she had sold Wildewood Hall she could decide what she would do next, on her own terms.
Turning past another bank of trees – no wonder Theo was obsessed with the place, trees everywhere, native woodland,untouched for centuries – the view ahead suddenly opened up and drove any other thoughts from Alex’s mind.
The house was silhouetted against the darkness of the night’s sky, a few lights on the ground floor illuminating the tall symmetrical windows and the portico entrance. A grand building, parts of which dated back to the Normans. You’d never know, after so many changes and additions over generations of her father’s line. It loomed over her little car as she parked, almost far too large to be real. God, if Gabe and the others could see this nightmare straight out of a horror movie they’d lose their shit completely. Just as well she’d insisted that she’d do this alone, that it was her responsibility.
The very thought of havingThe Ghost Patrolteam here in force sent another shiver through her that wasn’t about the cold, or the house. They were her friends, and they were professionals. But she knew what would happen.
Gabe would be insufferable. Daphne would swoon about the place. Eduardo would hide behind the equipment. Worst for her would be Arnold digging deep into the history – her family history – like a kid in a candy shop, and who knew what he’d find. The things she knew were bad enough. She’d be left there, the lone voice of reason, the sceptic’s sceptic, trying to hold it all to some version of actual reality while being the eternal killjoy, disproving every wild theory they came up with. They’d alienate every single local in the vicinity with their antics and make her a laughing stock. And that would be before the whole thing aired.
Then her so-called fans would get in on the act.
It was exhausting just thinking about it.
Staying here, off the grid, away from all the madness, made perfect sense. No one to come up with another amazing scheme for fortune and glory which capitalised on the worst experience of her life, thank you very much, Gabe. No creepy messages or flowers or threats disguised as adoration. No horde of stalkersunleashed on her by a man who had abused his own children in the pursuit of fame. Exposing him on live TV, and compounding it by testifying at his trial, was still something she was proud of. Even if it had destroyed her LA life as well.
Sending her running back here.
Alex’s attention was drawn inexorably to the house. It wasn’t symmetrical, like the great Georgian houses, or towered and turreted like the gothic ones. It was odd, sprawling across the land, as if it had grown by itself rather than something built by men. She tried to shake off the idea that the house was staring back at her. Daring her to move. She didn’t know how long she sat there, memories flooding through her mind.
The trees thrashing overhead, with a roar like the ocean, running through thick forest, tripping over roots and sliding on wet moss, her breath dammed up in her throat, her heart thundering. The cold arched roof of stones closing over her and the stench of mulch. The darkness pressing in on her, suffocating her. Dad’s hands falling still, limp on the rich and hungry earth. The gleam of gold beneath rotting foliage. The taste of blood in her mouth, choking her, and the world blurring through tears and terror.
Alex tried to make herself breathe again, in and out, calmly, tried to still her racing heart. She could do this. She had to. For Theo.
Out of nowhere a fist struck the window right beside her head, a series of rapid thuds, and Alex screamed.
CHAPTER 2
ALEX
Through the sheets of rain a bedraggled, bearded man stepped back from the car. The rest of him was hidden under a huge hooded raincoat. He leaned in to peer through the window he had just assaulted.
‘Ms de Wilde?’ He had to shout over the noise of the rain on the roof. The wind snatched away whatever else he said.
