Simon shot him a look. “Speak plainly.”
“You’ve been impossible to deal with lately,” Rowan said. “Even more so than usual. Irritable, impatient, scowling at the wind?—”
“Get to the point.”
“All this time away from your lovely wife is making you unbearable.” Rowan’s mouth twisted upwards into a grin. “If anything, this should make you reconsider your decision to leave.”
“Do not bring Rachel into this.”
“Why not? It’s obvious to everyone that she’s on your mind.” Rowan chuckled. “And before you deny it, you should know that I’ve known you long enough to tell when a woman has gotten under your skin.”
“You are distracting me with this chatter.”
“Or perhaps you’ve been distracted all this time. Your jaw twitched when I said her name,” Rowan observed, far too pleased with himself.
“I am not here to discuss my marriage,” Simon retorted. “And I would appreciate it if you stopped bringing it up when there was no need for us to discuss it.”
Rowan studied him for a moment, then exhaled loudly in defeat. “Fine. I’ll stop. Now, how do you suppose we make our way inside?”
Simon felt grateful for the shift in conversation. The last thing he wanted to discuss at this moment was Rachel. He looked around. The estate was larger than he had anticipated.
That was when Simon noticed a flicker of movement in one of the upstairs windows. It almost looked like someone was peeking through the glass to check up on them.
“There is someone else here.” Simon’s voice came out more serious than before.
“Told you.”
“Let’s get moving.” Simon drew his pistol. He was not about to take any chances.
Rowan followed as Simon led the way.
As they entered the estate, Simon noticed how everything seemed as though it had not been touched in many years. Thick mounds of dust covered nearly every surface, and there was a suffocating feeling inside the house.
“Are you sure that it was a person that we spotted in the windows?” Simon asked as they ventured further out into the house. “Maybe it could have been an animal.”
Rowan—who was already coughing in the cloud of dust—glared at Simon.
“We have come all this way, Simon,” he said. “If you make us turn back now?—”
“Fine, relax,” Simon raised his hand to calm his friend down. “I was merely making a suggestion. Let’s head upstairs now.”
The steps creaked loudly as they made their way up—so loud in fact that Simon wondered whether the structure would collapse under their weight.
“The things I do for you.” Rowan shook his head as they finally made their way to the top. “Thisis the perfect setting for a murderer. If we manage to get out of here alive, then you owe me a drink.”
Simon ignored his friend’s theatrics. They surveyed a few rooms before finally arriving at the one on the corner of the hallway.
“You took your time,”a smooth voice said to them the moment they set foot into the room. Simon and Rowan exchanged glances, eyes widening in surprise.
The voice did not belong to a man. It was a woman who was speaking.
“Have you been expecting us?” Simon demanded, mustering his courage. His heart was beating loudly in his chest now. He had thought about this moment for so many years.
“I know you’ve been looking for me,” the woman spoke again. She had her back turned towards them, so Simon could not yet place a face to the voice.
“Reveal yourself,” he warned, cocking his gun.
“All in due time,” the woman muttered, still not turning. Simon noticed the gray in her hair—not only was she a woman, but she was older than Simon had expected.
