He tried to reassure her. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch whoever has been messing around on the estate grounds. These wireless cameras are the best. They have spectacular night vision as far as three hundred feet. And they’re set on motion detectors that will start the camera and make digital recordings on a computer that can signal me on my phone.”
He would have to hook up each camera to a 110 AC source, a consideration in choosing locations. He also needed places that would provide camouflage for the cameras. If the intruder became aware of them, he could simply cover up the lenses. If he didn’t destroy the equipment. So Rick had to hide each camera very carefully. He would position this first one between the balcony’s balusters, near a planter with greenery that hung in long strands through the opening. A perfect nest for the lens.
“So the cameras would be able to see anything out of place?” Cora asked.
“As long as it’s moving.”
“Does it have to be...”
“What?” he asked.
Cora cleared her throat. “Um, alive?”
What exactly was she getting at? Rick wondered. “Well, uh, if someone threw something into the area covered by—”
“Not an object. That’s not what I meant.”
“Then...what?”
“I saw something last night.” Cora wrapped her arms around her middle as if trying to protect herself. “At least I think I did.”
Rick was getting a weird feeling about this. “Go on.”
“It was a figure. Male. It looked like a small wiry man with red hair standing on end—”
“Looked like? What is it you’re trying to say, Cora?”
“I thought I saw Red Flanagan.”
Silence. Part of Rick wanted to laugh at her imagination. But he didn’t want to insult Cora. She’d been stressed about whatever was going on around the mansion at night for weeks now. Perhaps it had become too much for her.
“You don’t believe me,” she said, her words almost whispered.
“Red Flanagan has been dead for what? Half a century?”
“I know that! I just said it looked like him. Like the portrait in the rotunda.”
“Hey, easy. I’m on your side. I just don’t know what to think.”
“What if Flanagan Manor is haunted?” Cora asked.
Rick could see that she was serious. “I can’t say that I believe in ghosts.”
“I didn’t think I did, either. But after all that’s happened in the past several weeks...”
“If you did see Flanagan’s ghost, why now? What made him come back? Before all these curious events, did something significant happen on the estate? Some big change?”
“I—I don’t know. I’ll have to think on it.”
Rick didn’t believe in ghosts and he started to say that he’d never heard of one leaving footprints or breaking equipment by standing on it. But he was distracted by the sound of an engine. Both he and Cora turned to see a silver sedan pull up to the mansion. The driver’s door opened and a distinguished, silver-haired man exited.
“Oh, David—I mean Mr. Guildfren—is early.”
The man advanced to the trunk of his car and pulled out two suitcases.
“A guest.” Apparently one she knew by name.
“Yes, a regular. He’s an antiques dealer who appreciates the history of this estate. He’s been coming here for the past three years for a few weeks in the summer and again during the winter holidays.”
Color flushed Cora’s cheeks, and her avid expression suggested a certain fondness for the man.
“I can take it from here,” Rick said. “If you have other things to do.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“All right then. Call me if you need me.”
Rather than waiting for his response, she whipped back into the drawing room, a changed woman from the tired, nervous one of a few minutes before. The spring to her step informed him of her affection for the guest. Rick wondered if the feeling was reciprocated, and if so, if they had ever done anything about it. Cora had said the man was a regular, visiting the bed-and-breakfast twice a year. She hadn’t been able to hide her excitement at seeing him.
He needed to get to work. Luckily there was an outlet nearby, providing a source of electricity.
As he set the camera in place, he felt hollow. He’d never had a long-term relationship with any woman. Being military for nearly all his life, he’d never been in one place long enough. His on-and off-again romance with Megan had been the closest he’d gotten. And being part of a special ops team had brought him to some pretty grim places. None were so grim as the last. Once he’d landed back here in the States, he hadn’t known what to do with himself. The army had always been his home. Giving civilian life a chance had its own difficulties.
He’d been back for several months now, but no woman had even interested him.
Not until he’d met Heather Clarke.
* * *
TAYLOR COULDN’T BELIEVE Mommy could be so mean. First Daddy never came home like he promised. Now Mommy was going to give away Kirby.
“He’s my dog!” she said with a sniffle as they approached the counter. Dogs were barking and cats were meowing, too. She looked around and tears filled her eyes. “You can’t put poor Kirby in jail!”
“Sweetheart, he’s not your dog,” Mommy said. “And the Sparrow Lake Animal Shelter isn’t a jail.”
“Then why are all the animals locked up?” Tears slipped down Taylor’s cheeks.
Addison took her hand and squeezed hard. “They’re so sad!”
“Not so sad, honey.” The white-haired lady behind the counter smiled at them. “The animals don’t all get along with each other, so we keep them separated for their protection. But they all get some time out of the cages every day. We have several volunteers who come to take care of them and play with them. The animals here are treated very well.”
“Then I want to volunteer,” Taylor said.
“Me, too,” Addison added.
“I’m sorry, girls, but you’re too young.”
Her mom held up the rope she’d used for a leash. “We found this dog yesterday, and I was hoping you could take him and either find his owner or find a new home.”
“I’m
