Page 7 of Ghostridden
I took a deep breath. Dread had somehow joined the excited anticipation that had been swirling in my middle since Taryn’s first call, maybe because I’d expected the house to be swept clean of its former inhabitants. Clearly it wasn’t, and I decided I didn’t want to face the rest of the place with only Gil for company.
“Did you spend much time here?” I asked Ricky.
He nodded. “Enough. I used to do odd jobs for Avi and Oren, especially when they were renovating the place.”
I perked up a little at that. “They renovated it?”
“Yes.”
Except, oh no. What if they’d stripped all the Queen Anne charm from the inside? The outside was pristine and period-appropriate, but weirder things had happened when “open plan” became the clichéd watchword for home remodeling.
Ricky must have caught my expression. “Don’t worry. Oren was an architect. They did it right.”
“Could you… That is, would you mind giving me the tour, then?” Despite my original desire to experience the house in a “first look” mode, with every room a surprise, now I wanted to see it with somebody who had an affection for it—or at least an affection for the men who’d lived here.
“I’d be honored.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Should we bring Gilgamesh inside?”
“Probably not until I figure out where to put his litter box.” I peered into his carrier. It was safely in the shade, and Gil was watching a towhee hop across the grass as though he could lure it in with his feline laser gaze alone. “He won’t thank me for taking him away from bird TV right now, anyway.”
“Okay, then.” He pointed to the staircase. “Back stairs to the second floor and down to the basement.” He jerked a thumb at the closed door on the right. “Two-car garage.” Tilted his head at the gaping door on the left. “One of two powder rooms on this floor. Full baths are all upstairs.”
I blinked. “Er… How many bathrooms are there?”
Ricky grinned. “Four full baths, plus the two halves.”
“Six toilets?” I croaked. “That seems… excessive. Are you sure?”
He chuckled. “Trust me. I know. I had to carry one up to the attic. Come on.”
He pushed open the swinging door and gestured for me to precede him.
I stepped through into a long room that had the same footprint as the mudroom. And gawked. “Holy crap.”
Ricky chuckled. “I know, right? This is the butler’s pantry. They redid the cabinets, so it’s actually more pantry storagethan prep area like an actual butler’s pantry would be. Upgraded the plumbing. And you can probably tell they were big fans of natural wood.”
“I can see that,” I croaked as I gazed at the gorgeous cherrywood cabinetry that extended from floor to nine-foot ceiling, except on the wall with the sink and the one with a butcher block counter. “Good grief. You’d need a ladder to reach the top shelves.”
He opened a tall cabinet next to the door to reveal a step ladder. “When necessary. But the plan was only to put stuff up there that didn’t need constant access. There’s another pantry off the kitchen, but they planned to use this one more, since it’s convenient to the garage and unloading groceries.”
“Right. Got it.”
We stepped through a gracefully curved archway into a sunny kitchen with the same kind of cherrywood cabinetry, a long island topped with end-grain butcher block, and gleaming stainless steel appliances. Beyond the island was a circular breakfast nook nestled in one of the turrets, complete with a round table and six ladder-back chairs.
“Um, Ricky?” I pivoted slowly, probably with my mouth hanging open. “You said the place was shut up after Avi died, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.
“So why is everything so… soclean?” I swiped my finger across the granite countertop. “There’s not even any dust.”
He bit his lip, and even though I was sort of freaking out for a number of reasons, I could appreciate the way his white teeth dented the full flesh.
“I… don’t know. I expected everything to be shrouded in dust covers, you know?” He brightened. “Taryn knew you were coming, though, right? She probably hired a cleaning service to come in and get things ready for you.”
“I guess that would make sense,” I said slowly. “But how did they get in? Mason bees in the locks, remember?”
He frowned for a moment, then his expression cleared. He strode back through the butler’s pantry, propping the swinging door open, and flung open the garage door. He peered inside for a moment and then shot me a grin and poked something out of sight on the wall with a flourish. The garage door lifted with a hum.
“She must have the door opener, or given them the code.”
