Page 71 of From the Darkness

“Not for me!” the housekeeper objected.

He ignored her and went on. “Just like Nola. I got rid of the pair of them, the way you said; but I don’t like it. That wasn’t what you said we had to do.”

“We didn’t have any choice. Not after Nola found London’s ring lying on the ground by his grave.”

Bree struggled to hold back a gasp, but she must have made a sound because Graves whirled toward the panel where she was standing.

“Someone’s listening.”

Chapter Sixteen

From her hiding place, Bree saw Mrs. Martindale inspect the secret door. It looked like the woman could see right through it—could see Bree hiding in the darkness. She tensed, ready to defend herself.

But instead of marching across the room, the housekeeper gave a harsh laugh. “You old fool, there’s nobody’s there. Who are you expecting? The ghost?”

“Yeah, the ghost. He’s stalking us. Not the one from way back in the past. I don’t believe in him. But I believe in London’s ghost.”

“Only in your imagination.”

“You gonna explain all the strange stuff that’s been going on around here?”

Mrs. Martindale had stayed where she was. But Graves stomped toward the panel where Bree was hiding. She felt frozen, yet somehow she managed to reach out and grip the handle in front of her. Graves was right on the other side of the barrier, and she ducked her head so that when he looked through the small holes, he wouldn’t see her eyes.

She could hear him working at the door, pressing and pounding, but she hung on to the handle with a strength born of desperation.

If she was interpreting the conversation correctly, this man was admitting having murdered two people before breakfast. If he found her, she was next.

Bree braced her foot against the door, exerting pressure as he tried to battle his way through.

“The damn thing’s stuck. I’m going up and going in the other way.”

She struggled to hold back a whimper. If he went upstairs, he’d find the panel open. Then he’d come down and find her.

“You are not! I don’t want you bothering that child and the schoolteacher. They’re both afraid of you. And I don’t have time for them now.”

“I’ve been watching the teacher. She’s been stickin’ her nose in where it don’t belong.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got her so confused with all my lies that she doesn’t know whether she’s standing on her head or her feet. The first thing I said to her when she arrived was a lie. I told her I didn’t know she was coming. But of course, Miss Helen and I had worked it all out.”

While Bree took that in, she heard Graves move away from the door. She sagged back, fighting the weak feeling in her chest.

“You have to keep your cool,” the housekeeper said. “Helen will be here next week.”

Again, Bree’s mind tried to grapple with what she was hearing. Helen? Coming to Ravencrest? From Macedonia? Or was that another lie? As Bree struggled to assimilate that information, Graves continued.

“I know that. You told me often enough.”

“Well, you go about your business, making sure the place is in top condition. We want the buyers she lined up to be impressed with what they see. Get out and fix up the gardens, like you’re supposed to do.”

Bree’s mind was reeling. Helen was coming, and she’d gotten buyers for the property. She’d said in her letters to Troy that she wanted to sell the house and land. He’d written back, strongly opposing the idea. So she’d had her brother murdered to get him out of the way.

At least she’d thought she had him murdered. Because he was only pretending to be dead. Lord, that had to be true, since the alternative was unthinkable—impossible. She’d seen Troy only a few minutes ago. He’d made love to her last night.

Her mind was working overtime to explain what had really happened to Troy. He’d been wandering around the estate. With amnesia and a concussion. Hiding. Scaring people. But his memory was coming back. When he’d been injured, his mind had developed special powers.

Even as explanations whirled in her head, she was still listening to the couple in the kitchen, thinking that if she only had a tape recorder, she could nail them for murder. Not of Troy. But of Abner and Nola Sterling.

“I don’t see why she had to hire that teacher,” Graves was saying. “The woman’s just a complication.”

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