Nine Liars (Truly Devious, #5)(65)

It reminded Stevie of her grandparents, who had a serious addiction to buying things at yard sales and the Harbor Freight store, except they had six air fryers, a whole bunch of old computer monitors, a dartboard from a bar, and a Skee-Ball machine salvaged from a Chuck E. Cheese that had gone up in flames in an insurance fraud arson.

This stuff was different. It was at least more expensive.

“I think I’ll put you here, Izzy, in the Bishop’s Room,” Sebastian said, switching on the light in a sprawling bedroom with pale blue wallpaper and a four-poster bed. “Janelle, how about right here. The Rose Room. The ghost of my great-aunt lives in here, but all she ever does is move people’s eyeglasses, so don’t worry. She’s otherwise charming. Vi? This way, darling. The DeVere Room. Nate, was it? Smashing room over here—the Regent Room. Stevie and David, right this way, around the corner. I’ve got two lovely rooms back here that face the garden.”

David got a room called the Mountjoy Room. His was in bracing shades of deep blue and green. Stevie was guided down two more doors.

“And here you go, Stevie,” Sebastian said. “The Lilac Room. You might not be used to English heating. These houses get drafty. There are extra blankets in the chest at the foot of the bed.”

“Thanks,” Stevie said.

“Not at all, not at all. Let me just pop back downstairs and have a butcher’s to see how dinner is coming along. Come and join us when you’re ready.”

Stevie had absolutely no idea what he meant by “have a butcher’s” and was not going to ask.

Once he was gone, she shut the door, took the fire safe from her suitcase, and stashed it under the bed. She went to the window and pushed it open. There were no screens on the windows, so she could lean out a bit and touch the climbing vines that surrounded the window and snaked up the walls. The garden seemed to be functional, with sections of green vegetables and herbs all set out in neat rows, supported with wires and many covered by arches of netting. Some pear trees grew flat along the wall and were heavy with fruit. Beyond the garden was more garden, and beyond that green land rolling along, going right to the hills and the trees. England. Endless, green England.

It would be easy to fall out a window like this, she also noted. Lean out a bit too far to look at a rose or a cloud or a sheep and you’d be sprawled on the terrace stones in no time, Agatha Christie–style.

She shut the window.

The bathroom was nice. There was a massive claw-foot tub and a small sofa. Just to sit on. In the bathroom. She sat on it for a few minutes, staring at the tub, pushing down an anxiety attack that threatened to rise. She breathed slowly, making her exhalations longer than her inhalations.

Angela. That’s why she was here. Sure, she had brought everyone here under a bit of a lie, but it was a lie for a good reason, and if you lied for a good reason, was it even a lie?

She needed to tell someone. Nate. Nate would understand. She had to let Nate know, and then she would tell Janelle and Vi and everything would be fine and then she could get on with the business of finding Angela.

She stepped back into the dark paneled hallway and the warren of doors. Stevie crept along, though she couldn’t quite tell why she was creeping. There was something about the ornate carpets and runners and all the eyes on the walls and the grandfather clock that suggested that creeping was the only acceptable way to move around a house like this. Clomping was vulgar. Walking was for poors. David stepped out of his room.

“Hey,” he said. “Going back down?”

“Just need to talk to Nate for a second,” she said. Then, lowering her voice, she added, “Do you think they’re really fine with us being here?”

“They’re English,” David said. “They complain when your back is turned. They’ll never say it to your face. And they sort of expect Americans to be rude so it kind of doesn’t matter.”

“Not rude,” Sooz said.

Stevie let out a startled sound. A weird one. Kind of like heep. Sooz had apparently arrived and had dropped her things in a nearby room. Today she was wearing a deep blue jumpsuit with silver piping. Her curly red hair bounced as she walked.

“Good to see you again. Most Americans I meet are lovely. And I would tell you if everyone was annoyed, but the others probably wouldn’t. They’re more polite. It really is fine that you’re here. We might as well be together. Better than sitting alone at home sick with worry. Come down. Sebastian was just saying that he wanted to give you a tour of the grounds.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Stevie said.

“I’ll come with you,” David offered.

“Good. Sebastian!”

Her voiced boomed through the space.

“Yes, darling?” came the reply.

“Do you have anything for a little afternoon bring-me-down?”

“There’s a nice little cabernet left over from a wedding a few weeks ago. In the kitchen.”

David glanced back at Stevie, then descended the steps. Stevie continued, backtracking until she found the door of the room that she was pretty sure had been assigned to Nate. She knocked and found him in a room with maroon walls, deep and saturated like drying blood. He had stationed himself on the bed and was looking at his phone.

“Are you enjoying your stay in the Rocky Horror house so far?” he asked. “When do we Time Warp?”