“If you want to tour Ravensgate, you’d be better off speaking to them.” Jessica looked at her, seeming to hesitate. “I’d arrange it through Odessa, if I were you.”
“Is there something wrong with the, uh, rest of the family?”
“Not wrong. Not exactly.” Jessica fidgeted with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Nathaniel and Corrine don’t like dealing with people in town. And the boys are—” She paused, seeming to search for a word that was different from the one she clearly had in mind. “Wild.”
“What do you—”
“I’ll leave you to settle in.” Jessica’s smile was dismissive this time. “Spare key’s on the hook if you need it. I’ll be out in the garage if you need me, listing things on Etsy.”
She turned and went down the hall at a clip while Nadine stared after her. Just more proof that the people of Argentum disliking the Cullravens and anyone associating with them, she supposed. Now she was glad she hadn’t given Helena her full name, though she’d probably figure things out soon enough—and her last name was on the credit card she’d paid Jessica with, even if she hadn’t put two and two together at the time. She soon would.
No, if she was going to look for answers, it was better to do so now, before people realized that her sister was the newest addition to the Cullraven family.
Her clothes were rumpled from the cab ride so she changed out of her jeans and t-shirt into shorts and a floral cold shoulder top. As she rubbed her legs, arms, and face with sunscreen, she wondered what it had been like living here all these months with the townspeople acting like she’d married some closeted psycho. She had only spoken to two people so far but both of them acted like they could barely stand to say the Cullraven name without spitting.
Maybe it wasn’t the family she was afraid of, Nadine thought.Maybe it was the people here.
She felt self-conscious walking through the town square again. There were more people out now, taking advantage of the good afternoon weather. Some of the friendlier ones nodded and smiled but all of them stared.
They stared a lot harder when they realized where she was headed.
Ravensgate was just as intimidating as she remembered, looming larger than life from beyond its wrought iron gate. Without all the roses, it seemed spare. Draconian. The woman-deer statue in the courtyard retained the central focus of the eye, radiating a sinister and unpleasant energy.
What kind of person would want something like that to be the first thing that visitors see?Nadine skirted around it, avoiding even its shadow as she made her way up the steps to the front doors, which were both tightly sealed now. She rang the bell and heard it chime from within, reverberating through those long and empty halls.A not very nice one.
A woman in a black apron answered the door. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, every strand smoothed into place. “Can I help you?” she asked, glancing briefly over her shoulder.
Self-conscious, Nadine absent-mindedly pulled at her own frizzy hair. “I’m Nadine Harnois. I’m here to see my sister, Noelle Ha—ah, Cullraven.”
The maid stared at her. Nadine wasn’t sure she blinked. “One moment.”
There was just a flash of skirt before she disappeared down one of the hallways splitting off from the foyer. But she’d left the door open, so Nadine cautiously stepped inside. There was an antique credenza with brass handles placed under a mirror she looked away from, catching a glimpse of flushed face and messy hair. She waited for a good five minutes before tucking her phone into her back pocket with a sigh. There had to be someone in here she could ask. If she got yelled at, she could lie, and say she’d slipped away because she needed to pee.
Her footsteps mirrored the path she had taken while wandering at the wedding, when she had come across the library. At the time, it had seemed so opulent and oppressive, and while it was still that, it looked less neat now, more lived-in. There were chairs crookedly placed and books scattered around that definitely hadn’t been there before the ceremony, and that upholstered settee had a beveled tumbler on the table beside it, as if someone had come down for a late-night drink.
Nadine wandered over to the custom case where the Paris green books were stored behind glass. Because they contained arsenic in their bindings, Cal had told her. She frowned. Hadn’t there been three? There were just two there now. One of the books with the damaged spines was missing.
Maybe it’s being renovated.
A man’s deep voice broke through the buzzing silence, echoing rather sinisterly off the high ceilings and smooth wooden floors. At first she couldn’t make out the words, but then they became clearer, and she heard a familiar voice say, “Are you certain this is something you want to pursue?”
Nadine froze like a deer, her spine straightening unconsciously.Cal.
She could ask Cal.
He would know.
Cautiously, she crept closer, towards the direction of an open door that had been closed when she was in here last. This door led to a small office and Cal was inside. There was a massive desk in there, along with a leather chair, both positioned in such a way that one could sit and enjoy the natural light from the window, but he had ignored both in favor of pacing. With every pass, the stiff material of his jeans creaked, and his hair was standing up like he’d been running his fingers through it.
“I ask, because it’s fairly serious,” he said, turning again. “Accusing someone of tampering with the will to the estate is no small matter.” The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and he’d left enough of the buttons open down the front that a few curls of chest hair were exposed when he leaned one hand against the table, causing the fabric to gape.
Nadine’s fingers clutched harder at the wall. A sort of giddy nervousness had overtaken her, leaving her torn between watching more and turning to flee. Because Cal Cullraven wore casual disarray the way other men wore designer suits. She would know, she had seen him in one of those, too. And after all this time, she had nearly convinced herself that he couldn’t possibly have been as good-looking as she remembered, only to see him now, at home, with wild hair and bare feet, with the soft light shimmering in through the window to illuminate him like a god.
A dark look crossed his face and his fingers tightened around the phone. “Well, you’re going to need statements from witnesses who were present when the will was signed, as well as medical records proving unsound state of mind. However, because there’s a terrorem clause, fighting might only make things worse.” He pivoted again, just as Nadine shifted her weight, and the small movement caught his eye. “It often does,” he added, his dark eyes narrowing in a way that left her lightheaded. “Call me back when you have the documents if you decide you want to continue. I need to go. Something just came up that I need to take care of.”
C H A P T E R
T H R E E
