“Spanish omelet?” She frowns at me and raises one eyebrow. “The duck was planned for dinner. Mandarin duck is one of Mr. Hunter’s favorites but Pierre said you insisted on duck. He has two ducks prepared.”
I shake my head.What exactly is going on here? “You were there when he suggested the omelet. This looks delicious but I didn’t order it.” I sigh. “It doesn’t matter; tell Pierre I’m happy to have duck for dinner. I like it too.”
“Is there anything else?”
The way Sue’s mouth puckers reminds me of a cat walking away and I bite back a laugh. I pick up my silverware. “Yes, I’d like a mug of coffee please. Thank you, Sue.”
I watch her leave and wonder why the deception about lunch. Why the different accounts of Laura’s death? I eat slowly, trying to get my head around everything. I’m no threat to the staff. What game are they playing with me?
TWENTY-SIX
After lunch, I go straight to Jack’s office to view the blueprints and find nothing on any of them about renovations. I recall Jack mentioning the state archives. I have a list somewhere on his desk. I can search their online files. It takes two hours but I find the original plans used when the property was first built and a second set with the additional renovations. I print the document and stare at it, seeing how a good portion of the back of the house has been modified. How strange no mention of it was made to Jack. I hear footsteps in the hallway and Jack comes in. I glance at the clock. I hadn’t expected him until later. He sweeps me from the chair and kisses me soundly. I catch my breath and smile at him. “I’m pleased to see you too.”
“What have you been doing all day?” He glances at the blueprints. “What are these?”
I turn to look at the copies spread across his desk. “These are the original plans for this house and the others are the renovations. I spoke to George about our plans and he mentioned the house was altered considerably twenty years ago. I wanted to compare the plans is all.”
“You know, Laura mentioned secret passageways and mysterious faces at windows. She hunted for the windows butcouldn’t find them. She insisted they were there when she visited her cousins here. I showed her the blueprints but she was sure she hadn’t imagined the rooms. To be honest, I figured it was an overactive imagination as a child. Like an imaginary friend, some things can seem real at the time.” He sighs. “I wish she could have seen this. Is it still there, do you think?”
I shrug. “I have no idea. I doubt it.” I point to the recent documents. “There’s no mention of it here. Who else has been here for a long time?”
“Old Bill.” Jack scratches his cheek. “Thirty years, I believe. He started here during the time Laura’s uncle owned the estate. She remembered him.” He smiles at me. “He was pottering around when I drove in. Do you want to speak to him again?”
Excited, I gather up the copies of the blueprints and nod. “Yes, I most certainly do.”
“I figured you’d say that.” Jack takes the documents from me and indicates with his chin to the gardens. “He was picking roses.” He raises an eyebrow. “For you, I assume?”
I follow him from the room. “Yes, I love fresh flowers and we have acres of them.”
“I like them too.” His fingers link with mine as we walk to the front door. “They made Laura sneeze.”
Trying to ignore the savage stare from Laura’s portrait, I lean into Jack and smile. If Laura’s ghost or whatever still lingers in this house, she needs to know he belongs to me now. “I’ll fill the house with flowers and it will rid us of that awful old house smell. It reminds me of a locker room. It needs to be aired. The windows are always closed and it’s beautiful at this time of year.”
“You’re in charge, Willow.” Jack winks at me. “Tell the staff what you want and they’ll do it. That’s what I pay them for.”
I’m not surprised when Jack takes over the conversation with Bill. I notice the man’s hesitance to say anything and I look at him and give my head a little shake. I want to convey Ihaven’t spoken to Jack about the face in the window, or Laura’s instability.
“Do you recall the renovations to the house about twenty years ago?” Jack unrolls the plans and holds them up for Bill to peruse. “Apparently, they built staff quarters and never used them. I can’t find them on the current plans. Do you know what happened to them? Was there another renovation I’m not aware of?”
“Yeah, I recall the renovations but I never got to look inside.” Bill drops a rose into a basket and turns to look at us. “I only remember the builders being here that one time. The last renovations were the ones you had here to the kitchen and bedroom, I believe.”
“I recall Laura telling me she played in secret passages as a child.” Jack narrows his gaze. “There must have been a way inside.”
I squeeze Jack’s arm. “I know where the door used to be. George recalls it being in the cellar. He said the previous owner locked it and no one was allowed inside.”
“Well, the previous owner sold the property to me.” Jack frowns. “He died a few years ago, so we can’t ask him. I don’t remember seeing a door in the cellar but it’s not somewhere I visit.”
“There’s a door.” Bill pushes back his straw hat. “It has steps leading up to it. I use the cellar to store my tools.”
I turn to Jack. “Can we look?”
“Sure.” He leads the way around the side of the house.
I follow, our shoes crunching on the gravel path. “We don’t have a key to get inside though, do we?”
“That’s what locksmiths are for.” Jack pulls out his phone as he descends the steps into the cellar and his flashlight moves around a surprisingly neat and tidy room. He moves the light around. “There it is.”
I follow close behind and stare at the door in dismay. There’s a door alright but it’s behind a wrought-iron gate that’s been welded into a frame set into the wall. “Oh, a locksmith isn’t going to get that open. How disappointing.”
