“He’s an entrepreneur. He turned his inheritance into a small fortune through various ventures, mainly buying faltering businesses, restoring them and selling them for a large profit. He’s very good at what he does, or he was until …” Ella’s gaze drifted away with her words.
“Until what?” Selene asked.
“Until he decided to take a break from it all.”
Again, Selene wanted to know more about Adrien, to ask more questions. But she sensed Ella wasn’t up to answering, which called for a subject change. “If you can point me to a phone, I’ll contact a few prospective contractors and set up appointments.”
Ella took a quick sip of her coffee. “You’ll have to find someone from Baton Rouge since you won’t find anyone locally, at least not anyone who’s willing to come out here. The townspeople are a superstitious lot. They believe the place is cursed.”
Ella had unknowingly provided Selene with a good opening. “That portrait near the staircase. Is that woman somehow involved in the tragedies?”
“I’m not really sure,” Ella said. “I assume she probably is, but I don’t know any details about her.”
Selene had always embraced the past, and she truly believed the woman named Grace had an interesting one at that.
She took another quick drink of coffee, pushed back from the table and stood. “I’m going to go into town and pay a personal visit to a few of the business owners. Maybe someone can suggest a local contractor who isn’t superstitious.”
“Good luck.” Ella nodded toward Selene’s untouched food. “You should eat something first, put on a few pounds so you don’t make me look quite so portly.”
“You’re fine just the way you are. And I’m in a hurry to get this restoration underway.” In a hurry to get away because she sensed Adrien’s imminent arrival as surely as if she’d heard his approaching footsteps, which she hadn’t. Any minute now, he could walk into the kitchen and throw her off balance. Better to head into town before that happened. Before she had to look at him again, this time in the daylight where all her fascination and preoccupation with her boss would be bared like a flashing billboard. Because she was fascinated by him, completely intrigued. He had his share of secrets, that much she knew, and most she would probably never know.
Yet she also knew those secrets had brought on his pain, and she had always been a sucker for lost souls. She’d manned a couple of hotlines on a volunteer basis, had championed several causes. She’d also learned that some lost people didn’t care to be found. She suspected that Adrien Morrell had no desire to be saved from his solitude. For that reason alone, she vowed to pay no heed to him, as long as he stayed out of her head.
Alone in his office, Adrien stood at the window and watched Selene Winston drive away. Curiosity sent him immediately to her room, to see if she had left for good. In his experience, everyone eventually left. Not so in this case, at least not yet.
The white gown she’d been wearing on the veranda last night was draped over the bed’s footboard. The sheer fabric had revealed only a few details, but enough details to set him on edge and keep him there. Striding across the room, he passed his palm over the gown that was as soft as her skin. He knew that much, even though he hadn’t touched her. Yet. But he would.
Last night, he’d warred with what was wise and what he wanted. Many considered him predatory, territorial in both business and in pleasure. Until recently, he’d lived for the thrill of the chase, the rewards of capture. Selene Winston had resurrected that desire. Though he’d made a solid effort to ignore his baser urges, he was still a man. A man on a mission.
He planned to draw her into his world with a slow and carefully crafted seduction, guiding her into the darkness he’d created. She might be reluctant at first, but eventually she would come without reservation. Willingly. Openly.
She would provide a respite from his remorse, a means to temporarily forget what he hadn’t done. More importantly, what he had done … to Chloe.
Fifteen minutes later, Selene drove into St. Edwards and pulled her sedan in front of Abby’s Antiques, a place she had visited several times. The shop was situated along a row of small businesses that lined the single downtown street, an ancient red brick church serving as the town’s cornerstone. After only a moment’s hesitation, she left the car and entered the glass door, the subtle chime announcing her arrival.
The proprietor, Abby Reynolds, a forty something tiny woman with bobbed auburn hair and kind hazel eyes, looked up from behind the counter positioned at the back of the store and greeted Selene with a smile. “Hello, Ms. Winston. I thought you’d left town.”
“As it turns out, I’m going to be here awhile.” Selene skirted the helter-skelter antiques as she traveled down the narrow aisle, basking in the blessedly cool air flowing over her. If only she could bottle some to take back to the plantation.
When Selene reached the counter, Abby pushed her black glasses up onto her head and set aside the book she’d been reading. “You’ve decided to stay?”
“Yes, thanks to you. Remember that ad you showed me? As it turns out, it’s a plantation west of town, and I’ve been hired to oversee a complete restoration.”
“Maison de Minuit.” Selene immediately noticed the wariness in Abby’s tone and the stiffness of her small frame. “That should be challenging.”
“Yes it will be, and that’s why I’m here.” Selene set her purse on the counter and folded her hands next to it. “Do you happen to know a local contractor who’d be willing to take it on?”
The woman shook her head. “You won’t find anyone here who’ll go out there.”
Exactly what Ella had told Selene earlier. “What is it about the place that has everyone avoiding it like the plague?”
“Well, there’s the matter of the lovers who supposedly died there, and the voodoo woman who lived there after that. And the somewhat insane Giles Morrell who fortunately wasn’t there very long. Take your pick.”
Selene wondered if Grace happened to be one of those lovers. “Do you know any details? Names, that sort of thing? I’d like to know a little bit about the plantation’s history.”
Abby shrugged. “I’ve only been in town a couple of years. When I have heard people speak about the place, it’s been brief, as if they’re afraid to talk about it. And there’s also the woman who mysteriously disappeared about a year ago.”
“What woman?” Selene couldn’t mask her surprise or uneasiness.
“Supposedly Adrien Morrell was holed up with her for over a year,” Abby said. “Ralph Allen works for a delivery service and used to make runs out there every week or so to deliver packages. He says he saw her looking out an upstairs window a couple of times.”
Surely Adrien didn’t have an unidentified woman locked up in the mysterious bedroom. A totally ludicrous thought, Selene decided. Still …”But as far as anyone knows, she left?”
“The deliveries stopped suddenly, and no one’s seen her since. Except Ralph swears he passed a coroner’s car coming from that direction one morning.”
Selene swallowed
