I squinted one eye. “How can you not know how many floors are in your own house?”
“Easy. There’s the first floor, which is where we came in and has the ballroom, the solarium, the library, the kitchen, the Color Gallery.” Savilla ticked the rooms off on her fingers. “And the second floor, where we have the Music Room, sitting rooms and parlors, several guest rooms.”
My ears perked up at the mention of the Music Room, the place where Brett had asked Lacy to meet him at midnight.
“The third floor is mostly for family and guest rooms, and the fourth floor was for servants but now houses rooms for close friends and family, and Daddy’s old office.”
I knew this to be true from my time at the pageant this summer. “And the other two floors?”
Savilla flipped on a panel of lights that illuminated a high garage housing a fleet of transportation vehicles ranging from a motorcycle that looked like it was straight out of a 1970s episode ofHappy Daysto an actual carriage.
“The basement has a couple of storage rooms, the bowling alley, a pool.”
My eyes widened. “You have an indoor pool?”
“You’re so funny,” Savilla said, with a grin.
Am I though?
“There’s a pool in the basement, but it’s empty right now.” Savilla shot me the same look her parents must’ve given her as a child. “It’s very dangerous without water, so do not go down there alone.”
“Deal,” I agreed. “And the sixth floor?”
“The sub-basement. That’s where they put storage, the wine cellar, the boilers, and for reasons I’ll never understand, a small hall for hosting get-togethers.” Savilla’s eyebrows turned down. “A man died down there once. A butler, when Daddy was a little boy. We’re pretty sure it’s haunted.”
She said the words so matter-of-factly, as if it was an unavoidable reality for one’s home to feature a ghost or two, but in a place with the history and scale of the Rose Palace, maybe it was inevitable. I’d also caught how her voice had changed on the word “butler.” It wasn’t disrespectful exactly, but it was removed, as if the servants werethemas opposed tous.I didn’t like that, particularly since my family roots—or at least the ones I’d grown up knowing about—would’ve placed me here as a scullery maid rather than mistress of the home.
“Come on, this is what I wanted to show you.” Savilla directed me toward the far corner and pulled off a tarp to reveal a six-foot-high dollhouse. “It’s the exact rooms and proportions of The Rose. Daddy made it for me when I was a baby, so I grew up with it in the nursery. At some point in my teen years, it gotmoved out here to be out of the way, but I thought it might be the fastest way for you to get a feel for the full scale of the place.”
I began studying the structure, which was definitely impressive—and detailed. There were pots and pans in the kitchen, a plant with plastic leaves in the entryway, and miniature furniture in every single room.
I fingered the labels on each room, running my hand over the ones readingVestibule,Color Gallery,andPrimrose Ballroombefore bending down to the bottom floor, which must have been the sub-basement Savilla had mentioned.
“That’s the hall. It’s officially called the Vampire Room,” Savilla said, coming to stand over my shoulder.
I studied the label and, sure enough, she was right.
“That’s just what we call it, not because there are actual vampires. No one has actually ever, like, sucked anyone’s blood down there.”
“Then why call itthat?” Despite myself, I felt a shiver run down my spine as I remembered the local lore surrounding a tunnel collapse at one of the mines in the early 1900s. A lone, bloodied figure with pointed teeth had run out of the coal mine, and when the rescuers had chased him down to the graveyard, he’d disappeared into a mausoleum. Of course, it wasn’t true, but the childlike part of my mind still wondered,What if it is?
“My great-grandmother traveled to the Balkans on her honeymoon and was obsessed with the legends about vampires, so she came back here and decided to host a themed event for Day of the Dead that year—1925, I think. She had an artist come in and paint all of these dark murals.”
“How have I never heard about this?”
Savilla shrugged. “I guess the tours we did in school didn’t think it was kid-friendly.”
“Kids would love that,” I said, my voice rising in pitch even as fear crept up. Part of me wanted to descend to the VampireRoom that very moment to see it for myself, and the other part of me wanted to run back home right that minute.
Savilla’s phone rang and she took it from her pocket, answering monosyllabically and hanging up after less than a minute before turning back to me.
“I’ve gotta get back, but take your time. Just turn out the lights when you’re done, and I’m sure I’ll see you back in the ballroom later. Seems like that’s the headquarters for the investigation.” Concern flitted across her face and she stared at me, frozen for a brief moment in the reality of the weekend. “I can’t believe Brett’s dead.”
“Me neither,” I said in a quiet voice.
Savilla took my hand and squeezed it tight, signaling with her resolute expression that it wasn’t my fault and we would carry on. A moment later, I watched her walk away.
I hadn’t been able to save Brett, but I couldn’t fail Lacy too. With a little more than twenty-four hours until his email was set to expose her, I needed answers fast.
