Nine Lives (Lily Dale Mystery #1)(17)
At least she won’t be lonely. It’ll be better than having an entire king-sized bed—the one she used to share with her husband—all to herself.
She finds a light switch at the top of the stairs. It’s the old-fashioned kind with round buttons rather than a flip toggle. Pressing one, she illuminates a hallway lined with closed doors.
Old-fashioned keys protrude from every knob lock. They’re attached to small rings that also contain a heart-shaped disc imprinted with the letters VVM—Valley View Manor—and a separate key that opens the deadbolts on both the front and back doors. They’ll be given to the guests when they check in.
Odelia had mentioned that Leona had just recently ordered the engraved key rings for the upcoming season along with sets of similarly monogrammed towels for each bathroom. “She was always adding homey little touches to make her guests feel more welcome,” she told Bella.
Staring at the murkily lit hallway, Max swallows audibly. “Is this a haunted house?”
Oh, kiddo, this is a haunted town.
“Of course not. Come on, let’s find the Train Room.”
One by one, they peek into the Rose Room, the Teacup Room, and the Apple Room—all easily identifiable based on Odelia’s descriptions. The Train Room is at the end of the hall, its door slightly ajar.
Max takes in the railroad-themed drapes, bedding, and framed prints on the walls. “Daddy used to ride the train to work in the city.”
Bella looks at Max in surprise. “Do you remember that?” Sam had been too ill to commute for quite some time before he passed away.
Max shrugs. “I just thought of it in my head when I saw the trains. Can we sleep in here?”
“Sure.” Bella tries to sound enthusiastic, eyeing the twin bed. Seeing something poke out onto the floor from beneath the quilt’s denim hem, she instinctively steps back and presses a hand against Max’s midsection. The house has been empty. Are there rodents?
“What’s wrong?”
Before Bella can answer, the quilt moves again—and she sees a large, furry paw emerge, followed by a familiar gray feline head imprinted with an M above the brow.
“Chance the Cat!” Max shouts.
Sure enough, the red-collared cat comes out from under the bed, pressing her front paws into the rug and arching her back into a hump as she gives a leisurely stretch.
“How did you get in here?” Bella asks as the animal rubs against first Max’s legs and then her own, purring loudly and butting her head against their shins.
“She must have a secret passageway.”
“She must.”
“Can she sleep in here with me, Mommy? Then you can have the Rose Room, like you wanted.”
“I didn’t say I wanted that one.”
“I could tell.”
Max is right about that. The moment she glimpsed the room at the top of the stairs, with its creamy bedding and floral wallpaper, she longed to crawl beneath the coverlet and sink her tired body into that pretty four-poster bed.
*
Bella had intended to retire to the Rose Room after double-checking to make sure the outside doors are all locked. Yet long after Max and Chance have drifted to sleep beneath the denim comforter, she finds herself lingering on the first floor, contentedly drifting from one inviting room to the next.
Maybe she should be more uneasy about finding herself alone in a big old house on a stormy night—especially in a town where ghostly visitors are allegedly as commonplace as gamblers in Vegas or actors in LA. But for the first time all day—the first time in how long?—she feels as though she can breathe a little more easily.
The thing she’d been dreading for months is behind her at last. Leaving home had been traumatic, but in a sense, staying there without Sam, wondering what lay ahead, had been even more so.
See? We’re moving on, just like you wanted us to do, she tells him as she investigates the windowed breakfast room with its whitewashed wainscoting, ruffled blue curtains, and well-stocked morning beverage station.
For the first time, she isn’t worried about where they’ll wind up. Less than twenty-four hours into the unknown, she’s already found a soft landing spot—albeit a temporary one. There will be others.
We’ve made new friends, Sam. Odelia is a hoot, and the cat just loves Max, and even Doctor Bailey turned out to be one of the good guys.
Not that we’ll ever see any of them again after today, but . . .
For a few hours, the world seemed a lot less lonely.
With a sigh, she crosses the threshold into the dining room, where fine china and crystal stemware fill the built-in cabinetry. She recognizes many distinctive iridescent Carnival glass pieces among them. They’re similar to the much smaller collection Aunt Sophie had left to her, but these are red and thus rare and far more valuable.
Walking into the elegant parlor, she hesitates before a closed French door off to one side. The glass panels are veiled in opaque maroon curtains. Turning the knob, she finds it locked.
Curiosity aroused, she pulls the key ring from her pocket. All but one of the skeleton-style keys has a stickered number on it. She inserts that one into the lock on the French door and sure enough, it turns.
Behind the door is a small study. Its lone window, with a cushioned built-in bench beneath, is covered by drawn blinds. A trio of blue-and-white floral pillows with ruffled hems form a backrest. The walls, painted a buttery golden shade that reminds Bella of corn on the cob, are unadorned. A couple of framed prints lean in one corner as if waiting to be hung.