frowned. “A servant’s stairwell in the master bedroom. It led to the laundry room off the back of the house.”
“How many hidden passages are in this house?”
“More than I’ve found so far, I’d guess.” He didn’t look happy about it.
“Did you see anyone …? I mean, I guess you didn’t, but did you see any sign that someone had been up there?”
“No.”
“But?”
He sighed. “But I don’t believe in fanciful things like ghosts and I have perfect vision. I saw something on that landing.”
“An animal maybe?”
“It was too large to be any animal that would be in the house and I couldn’t find tracks on the landing.”
She swallowed. “Then maybe it was a shadow. With that enormous glass ceiling and the storm brewing, couldn’t it have created a moving shadow that looked like a person?”
“I suppose,” he said, but didn’t seem convinced. “Look, maybe you shouldn’t stay here just yet.”
His suggestion was tempting, especially given that she was completely creeped out, but it wasn’t conducive to the reason she was there.
“Is there a hotel in town?” she asked, wondering if spending the night in a hotel and milling among the locals the rest of the day would give whoever was lurking in the house the notice to clear out—assuming it was a human in the first place. Rats, raccoons and storm clouds probably wouldn’t care about the local gossip.
“No hotel. No rental property either. Calais is a small spot on the map and a dead end at that. People don’t come here unless they intend to, so there’s not much call for hotels and such. New Orleans is only a little over an hour’s drive, though.” He looked hopeful as he delivered that last statement.
She could do it—probably should do it—but the thought of packing everything back in her SUV and spending another hour plus on the road didn’t sound even remotely appealing. If she thought it would change something, she might consider it, but staying in New Orleans wouldn’t create any local gossip at all. It would only be delaying the inevitable.
She sighed. “I appreciate your concern, but if you saw something tangible, my staying in New Orleans for a night isn’t going to make it clear out. And it’s just one more day I’ll have to make up staying here.”
“It would give me a chance to poke around some more.”
“You’re welcome to do that while I’m here. In fact, as I’ll be the one living here for two weeks, I’d prefer it if I did it with you.”
She could tell by the way his jaw flexed that he didn’t like it. The attorney had already warned her that the sheriff who’d agreed to the terms of the will had long since passed. While the new sheriff had agreed to meet the terms of the will, he was neither under any legal obligation to do so, nor was he being paid for his time.
His babysitting comment earlier had left her no doubt as to how he felt about his assignment. She sympathized with his position, but ultimately it wasn’t her problem. If he didn’t want to deal with it any longer, Alaina was certain Mr. Duhon would find someone else.
Finally, he blew out a breath. “Okay, then the first thing we should do is locate a bedroom for you that is easily secured. No servants’ passages and a good, sturdy lock.”
“One with a connecting bath would be best.”
“I agree. The master bedroom has a connecting bath but also several ways in and out.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, as if to ward off the unease she felt at the thought of sleeping in the same bed that her dead stepfather had slept in. “I wouldn’t want to sleep in there anyway.”
“I don’t blame you. Let’s check downstairs first.”
Alaina nodded and walked to the left side of the entry as Carter took the right. A careful inspection of the downstairs rooms did not reveal any equipped as a bedroom.
“We could move some bedroom furniture downstairs,” Carter suggested as they met at the back of the entry.
She shook her head. “There’s no connecting bath for any of the rooms. There’s a half bath off the kitchen, but that’s the only one I’ve seen downstairs so far.”
“There’s another off the laundry room.”
She blew out a breath. “Both of those are hallways away from these rooms, and I can hardly put a bed in the middle of the kitchen or the laundry room, or shower in the sink.”
“No. Neither of those rooms is secure anyway. They both have wide entries with no doors.”
“Probably to make carrying laundry and food easier.”
“Which doesn’t help us at all.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to stay upstairs.”
He motioned toward the spiral stairwell. “After you.”
As she walked up the stairs, she looked out the glass ceiling. The clouds overhead swirled, creating constantly shifting patterns of light and shadows.
“That storm looks like it’s going to be bad,” she said as they stepped onto the landing.
“It doesn’t look like a mild one,” he agreed. “I can’t believe that glass ceiling is still intact. We had a horrible storm last week—lots of lightning and hail even.”
“It’s got a panel that covers it. I accidentally opened it thinking it was a switch for the lights. It didn’t sound like it had been used in some time.”
Carter looked up and frowned. “Your stepfather was a recluse. Maybe he didn’t like the light either.”
Preferring to lurk in the shadow like most monsters.
She shook her head. Now was not the time for fanciful thoughts, especially those that might scare her once she was alone in this house in the dark. She had no concrete memory of her stepfather, but she knew she’d feared him. That was all she wanted to know.
“I just hope it closes,” she said.
“Let’s not borrow trouble,” he said and pointed to a hallway on the left side of the landing. “I saw several bedrooms that direction when I was up here earlier. Let’s see if one works.”
By unspoken agreement, they each took a side of the hall and began inspecting the bedrooms. Alaina made it to the door centered at the end of the hall before Carter. She stepped inside and sucked in a breath.
This was it. The bedroom she’d shared with her sisters.
It was situated directly over the kitchen area and just as large. Her memories were fuzzy, but she could remember the single beds and crib, all decked out in pink and white. White dressers stood against the wall across from the beds. The beds and dressers were long gone,
