Главная страница | Современная зарубежная литература | Yuletide Peril

Yuletide Peril
Irene Brand


When Janice Reid and her younger sister, Brooke, moved into their ancestral home, threatening letters and ominous phone calls made it obvious they were not welcome in Stanton, West Virginia. But Janice had always dreamed of providing a stable, safe home for Brooke, and she was determined to stay, no matter who wanted them out.For the first time, Lance Gordon, Brooke's principal, was worried about someone outside his small world–a beautiful woman and her little sister. He was afraid the "pranks" would escalate–and Janice would get hurt. Lance was determined to discover the source of the trouble, no matter what the cost.









“Do you know what caused your uncle’s death, Janice?”


Lance’s voice seemed troubled, and she glanced quickly toward him. “No.”

Taking a deep breath, Lance said, “He committed suicide at Mountjoy. There was some talk that he was murdered, but it looked more like suicide. The police department searched around a while, but they couldn’t prove anything.”

Janice’s optimism about her inheritance crashed. “My dad didn’t talk much about his family, but I’ve heard him say that someone in each generation of Reids died a tragic death.”

“Yes, that story goes around.” He hesitated, but Janice had to be warned. “It isn’t just any Reid, but the owner of this house.”

Her eyes widened. “If that’s the case, then I might be the next victim.”




IRENE BRAND


Writing has been a lifelong interest of this author, who says that she started her first novel when she was eleven years old and hasn’t finished it yet. However, since 1984 she’s published thirty-two contemporary and historical novels and three nonfiction titles. She started writing professionally in 1977 after she completed her master’s degree in history at Marshall University. Irene taught in secondary public schools for twenty-three years, but retired in 1989 to devote herself to writing.

Consistent involvement in the activities of her local church has been a source of inspiration for Irene’s work. Traveling with her husband, Rod, to all fifty states, and to thirty-two foreign countries has also inspired her writing. Irene is grateful to the many readers who have written to say that her inspiring stories and compelling portrayals of characters with strong faith have made a positive impression on their lives. You can write to her at P.O. Box 2770, Southside, WV 25187 or visit her Web site at www.irenebrand.com.




Yuletide Peril

Irene Brand







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.

—II Timothy 1:7


Thanks to Lieutenant Carl Peterson, Mason County Sheriff’s Office, for providing information about meth labs and other illegal drugs.




Dear Reader,

Thanks very much for reading this book, and I pray that it has been a blessing to you.

Since I’m a “from-scratch” type of cook, I wanted to share one of the recipes I mentioned in the book.

PORK CHOPS AND RICE

5–6 boneless pork chops

3 cups boiling water

4 bouillon cubes

1 cup rice

½ cup chopped celery

¼ cup chopped onions

¼ tsp pepper

Brown chops and remove from pan. Add water and bouillon cubes to pan and stir until dissolved. Add rice, celery, onions and pepper and stir. Put chops on top and bake at 300°F for 1½ hours.

When you prepare this recipe for your family, I hope you think of me and pray for my writing ministry.









Contents


Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue




Prologue


The summer storm reached the old house as the fourth member of the gang stepped up on the porch. A clap of thunder, as loud as a mortar blast, rumbled across the metal roof. A bolt of lightning sliced the skies and struck a spruce tree, toppling half of the tree on the roof of the house. The man jumped as if he’d been shot and scuttled inside like a scared rabbit.

Another streak of lightning revealed three other men lounging on the dilapidated furniture. One of them laughed uproariously. “I believe the old house is getting to you, boss. We’d better can some of this noise—it’s better than what we’ve been using to scare people away.”

Rain blew in the broken windows soaking the ragged carpet, and the intermittent lightning revealed a room that at one time had been elegantly furnished. But time and the elements had taken a toll on the old house—its grandeur was a thing of the past.

Ignoring the comment, the newcomer took off his hat and shook the water from it. “We’ll have to suspend operations for a few days. The big heiress is coming to town. I don’t think she’ll visit the house, but just in case, be sure that everything is hidden. We don’t want any evidence that we’ve been using the house in case she gets nosy.”

“You say she ain’t apt to be around long,” the man who’d first spoken commented.

“Chances are she’ll pocket her money and leave without causing any trouble,” the leader of the group said.

“Don’t give me that baloney, man. I’ve been shadowing her for a month, and she strikes me as a stubborn woman who won’t be easy to scare. You’d better let me get rid of her.”

“No,” the leader said in a tone that brooked no argument. “We’ve got a good thing going here, and I won’t ruin it. If we kill the woman, we’ll have cops all over the place. Murder is not an option, for now, at least.”




Chapter One


Stanton was a step above her hometown of Willow Creek, but that still didn’t say much for the town where Janice Reid intended to make her home. Her primary reason for coming to Stanton was to meet with the lawyer who’d handled her uncle’s estate. As she braked at the town limits and drove slowly into Stanton, Janice focused her attention on the street in front of her, because she’d only had her driver’s license four weeks.

Brooke, her eleven-year-old sister, perched on the edge of the seat and watched for the office of Loren Santrock. Brooke located all of the fast-food restaurants, but she didn’t spot the lawyer’s office as they drove through the town.

Glancing at the fuel gauge of the car, Janice said, “Let’s stop for gas, then we’ll look for Mr. Santrock’s office again.” She pulled off the street, stopped by the pumps of a convenience store and took a deep breath, thankful that they’d made a safe journey. She didn’t have much confidence in her driving ability.

“What do you think of the town?” Janice asked Brooke. With a pensive glance at her sister, she added, “Does it look like a good place to live?”

“Oh, it’s okay. I don’t care where we live as long as we can finally be together.”

Janice’s throat tightened and tears stung her eyes. Brooke was only ten years younger than Janice, but she felt almost like her mother. She’d had the primary care of her sister until their parents were sent to prison when Janice was fourteen. Brooke was placed in a foster home and Janice had been sent to the Valley of Hope, a residential facility for children with a variety of problems. Janice had been allowed weekly visits with her sister, but the years before Janice could be Brooke’s legal guardian had passed slowly for both of them.

Janice leaned over and kissed Brooke’s cheek before she got out of the car. “We’ll be together from now on—that’s a promise.”

She took a credit card from her purse, stepped out of the car and flexed her muscles. Unaccustomed to buying gas, Janice carefully read the instructions on the pump before she inserted the credit card and punched the appropriate tabs.

While the tank filled, Brooke tried to make friends with a scrawny black Labrador that was standing on its hind legs, eating food from a trash can beside the store.

“Hey, Brooke! Don’t bother the dog. He might bite you.”

“He looks hungry. Is it okay if I give him one of our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?”

“As long as you put it on the ground and let him pick it up. Don’t try to feed him. You don’t know if he has any diseases or fleas.”

Janice watched her sister while she waited for the receipt to print. Brooke took a sandwich from a plastic bag, unwrapped it and laid it a couple of feet from the dog. He seized the food, ran across the street and disappeared behind a residence.

“Look at him run!” Brooke said, laughing. “He must be awful hungry.”

“Wait in the car for me,” Janice called as she glanced over her shoulder at Brooke and started into the store. “I’ll ask for directions to the lawyer’s office.”

Brooke’s brown eyes widened. “Look out!”

Janice swung quickly toward the store just as a tall tawny-haired man opened the door and bumped into her. Janice staggered backward. The man’s strong arm suddenly wrapped around her waist and kept her from falling.

“That was a close call,” he said sternly. As if reprimanding a child, he added, “You should look where you’re going.”

Janice’s face flamed. Although she knew the man was right, she motioned toward her sister and quipped, “I preferred looking at what was behind me, rather than what was in front of me.”

Realizing that she was still in his embrace, Janice squirmed free, as with a pleasing grin, the man said, “Touché. Thanks for reminding me I wasn’t being careful, either.”

Janice lowered her gaze, deeply humiliated and irritated that she’d given way to one of her failings—a tendency to lash out at people when they criticized her. That wasn’t the way to start life in a new town.

“That was rude of me. Thanks for saving me from a fall. I should have been more alert.” Taking a deep unsteady breath, she stepped away from him.

The man’s short, wavy hair flowed backward from his high forehead, and his warm dark blue eyes clung to her heavily lashed green ones for a moment. His face reddened slightly, and he said, “No problem.” He strode purposely toward a black van parked at one of the pumps.

It took a lot to fluster Janice, but she realized that her pulse was racing. Surely it must be from the near fall, rather than the thrill she’d experienced when the man had embraced her. She hurried back to the car, slid behind the wheel and started the engine.

“Did you learn where to find the lawyer?” Brooke asked.

With a start, Janice remembered her reason for going into the store. “Oh, after I almost fell, I forgot about it. But Stanton is a small town. We’ll find his office.”

Traffic wasn’t heavy, and Janice drove slowly along Main Street, hoping to spot Santrock’s office. When they didn’t locate it, she said, “Let’s get out and walk. Since Stanton’s downtown area covers only a few blocks, it should be easy to find.”

She pulled into a diagonal parking space and fed the meter. They went into a drugstore and the clerk gave them directions to the lawyer’s office.

Brooke took Janice’s hand as they walked to his office, one block west of Main Street. Janice squeezed her sister’s hand, wondering how apprehensive Brooke was about their move. But if they didn’t like Stanton, she could sell the property she’d inherited from her uncle and return to Willow Creek. Despite their sordid family background, they’d been accepted there. People in Stanton might not be as understanding.

Janice hadn’t doubted her decision to move to Stanton until a few weeks ago when she’d read a letter from the uncle who’d willed his estate to her. A few of his words had seared her memory and they were foremost in her mind today.

I’ve recently become aware of some mysterious happenings at Mountjoy, but I intend to find out what’s going on. I pray that I haven’t saddled you with more trouble than you needed.

Santrock’s office was on the second floor of an old, two-story brick building, but his reception room was impressive. When her feet sunk into the thick gray carpet, Janice had the sensation of walking on a bed of woodland moss. The windows were dressed with long, heavy maroon draperies. A semicircular arrangement of wood veneer furniture, finished in cherry, dominated the room. The desktop held the very latest in computer equipment, including extralarge flat-screen monitors.

The middle-aged receptionist turned from her computer to welcome Janice and Brooke with a smile. The woman’s black suit obviously hadn’t come off the bargain racks where Janice bought her clothes. She felt ill at ease in such affluence.

“I’m Dot Banner,” the receptionist said. “What can I do for you today?”

“I’m Janice Reid. I have an appointment with Mr. Santrock.”

A somber look replaced the woman’s smile. “Mr. Santrock couldn’t be in the office today, and we didn’t know how to reach you. Did you come far?”

Irritated at this turn of events, Janice said bluntly, “Yes, I did. It’s a four-hour drive from Willow Creek, and I have to return in time for work tomorrow morning. This really puts me in a bind.”

Gesturing helplessly with her hand, the receptionist said, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Janice replied, her irritation evident in the tone of her voice. “I made this appointment two weeks ago to discuss my inheritance. Now that I’m twenty-one, Mr. Santrock said he’d have the papers ready to transfer the property and bank accounts to me today.”

“The papers are ready, but you’ll have to see Mr. Santrock to finalize everything.”

Discouraged at this delay, Janice sat down uninvited in one of the upholstered guest chairs and motioned Brooke to another one. “I have to return to Willow Creek tonight, so I’ll call in a few days to make another appointment. I would like to see the house though. If you’ll give me the key, I’ll take a look at it.”

“I have no authority to give a key to you. You’ll have to see Mr. Santrock. He’s a stickler on seeing that everything is done legally.”

Janice had the feeling that she was being given the runaround and she couldn’t imagine why. Her uncle had died three years ago. Santrock had had ample time to know when she’d take control of the property. If he couldn’t be in his office today, he should have contacted her.

“I don’t suppose I’ll break any law if I look at the property,” Janice said tersely. “Surely your boss won’t mind if you tell me where to find the house.”

“Oh, you won’t have any trouble finding the Reid property,” the receptionist said smoothly, apparently choosing to ignore Janice’s sarcasm. “It’s the last house on the right side of the highway as you leave the city limits. If you see a sign that says, ‘Leaving Stanton,’ you’ve gone too far.”

As they left Santrock’s office, Janice reasoned that with the setbacks she’d had in her life she shouldn’t be surprised that this venture had fizzled out. When they reached the street, the scent of food from a nearby restaurant reminded Janice that she was hungry.

“How about some lunch?” she asked.

“Yeah!” Brooke gave Janice a thumbs-up, and her brown eyes shone with merriment. They walked across the street to Brooke’s favorite chain restaurant.

Brooke ordered her usual hamburger, fries and glass of milk. Janice chose an Oriental fruit and vegetable salad and iced tea.

As they ate, Brooke talked excitedly about having their own home. “Wonder if we can have a big, big Christmas tree? And outside decorations, too?” she added hopefully.

“Since it will be the first time in our own home, I think we can afford to celebrate,” Janice agreed, before she added cautiously, “but I can’t promise until I know exactly how much money I’ve inherited. Our uncle was very cautious—he left matters in the hands of his lawyers until he assumed I’d be old enough to handle money.”

Since Christmas seemed to be a high priority with Brooke, Janice intended to have a good holiday season to make up for all the ones they’d both missed as children.

After living from hand to mouth most of her childhood, Janice had dreamed of having a home of her own. Since she’d heard that John Reid had remembered her in his will, Janice had been anticipating living under her own roof. She’d nightly thanked God that her bachelor uncle had chosen her to inherit his estate. The legacy included the Reid family home and several thousand dollars, but she didn’t know the exact amount. Any amount would seem like a fortune to Janice, who’d always had to save up for everything she’d had. She thought that her life had taken a turn for the better when she inherited her uncle’s property.

Following Dot Banner’s directions, Janice rounded a curve in the road and had the first look at her house, situated on a hill about a quarter of a mile from the highway. Although stunned into disbelief, she was alert enough to glance in the rearview mirror before she slammed on the brakes and pulled off the highway. Her dream had suddenly turned into a nightmare.

“Is this it?” Brooke asked, blinking with disappointment.

“I’m afraid so,” Janice said. “There’s the sign Miss Banner mentioned, and this is the last house on the right. Besides, I’ve seen a picture of the place. This is it.”

The Reid home, Mountjoy, the same name as the family’s ancestral home in England, was a two-story frame house with an upstairs balcony on the front of the building. Untrimmed rhododendron and laurel bushes, as well as a tall evergreen hedge, obscured the first floor.

At one time the weatherboarding had been white, but the paint had peeled off, leaving it a dingy gray. Some of the windows were broken and strips of curtains dangled through the holes. Weather-beaten green shutters hung askew. Janice assumed that the first floor looked as bad as the rest of the house.

“Can we live here?” Brooke asked in a frightened voice.

“Not right away. I can see why the receptionist was amused when I asked for a key. It will take a bulldozer to clear a path through that wilderness so we can reach the house.”

Janice’s great-grandfather had built this house in the late nineteenth century with money earned from the coal industry. He had accumulated vast wealth, and his sons and grandsons had squandered most of his fortune, but Janice had no idea that the family home had fallen into such disrepair. John Reid, their uncle, had lived in a house in Stanton for several years prior to his death. From the looks of things, nothing had been done to the property since he’d moved to town.

Not only was Janice disappointed in her legacy, but as she glanced around the property, a flutter of apprehension played a staccato rhythm up and down her spine. She’d experienced plenty of fear when she’d lived in her parents’ home, but after she’d landed in the sheltering arms of VOH, she’d had no reason to be afraid. So what had caused her sudden jolt of terror? A shock so powerful that Janice wondered if she should forget about moving to Stanton and return to Willow Creek where she still had a job, as well as friends and acquaintances. Cutting ties with the past might not be the sensible thing to do. Should she ask Mr. Santrock to sell this property and transfer all the assets to her banking account in Willow Creek?

But during the uncertain years of her childhood, Janice had developed a hardness of spirit and self-reliance that had kept her going when most girls her age would have given up. After she’d survived long days and nights alone as Brooke’s only caregiver, to preserve her own sanity, Janice had learned to overcome her fear.

She put the car in gear and moved forward until she found a place to turn around. Brooke huddled beside her, a fearful expression on her face. Janice had thought that relocation would be good for Brooke, as well as for herself, but now she was uncertain about her decision.

Trying to put on a cheerful face for her sister, Janice said enthusiastically, “Let’s stop by the school and see if you can register today. You’ll enjoy coming to a new school.”

“But if we don’t have a house to live in, how can we move here?” Brooke asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t have an answer to your question now. But I’ve been planning for months to start a new life in this town, and I will not willingly give up my plans.”

Eventually, she might have to return to Willow Creek, but not without checking her options. Janice wondered if her alternative idea of selling Mountjoy and buying another house in Stanton would be feasible. She doubted that the property would bring a good price in its present condition. Janice slowed the car to take another look as they drove past her legacy on the way into town.

“Looks like a haunted house to me,” Brooke observed.

A chill tingled along Janice’s spine again, for the same thought had occurred to her. She sensed that Mountjoy spelled trouble for her. Did danger lurk behind the thick undergrowth?

Her father’s visits to the family home had been infrequent, and after he became an adult, he never spent a night in the house. He avoided the place because, in every generation, a Reid had died a tragic death at Mountjoy. Would she be the Reid to die in the present generation? Annoyed at the thought, Janice questioned what had happened to her common sense. Again she remembered her uncle’s letter and his comment about mysterious happenings at Mountjoy.

During the four years she’d spent at the Valley of Hope, Janice had learned a lot about the Bible. Miss Caroline Renault, the director of the facility, had emphasized the necessity of memorizing Scripture verses. When she was especially troubled, Janice always reached into her storehouse of Scripture verses for a spiritual truth that encouraged her to carry on.

Glancing at Brooke’s woebegone face, fear again threatened to overwhelm Janice. Searching frantically for an antidote to combat this fear, Janice dipped into her memory bank.

“Brooke, Miss Caroline always said that the Bible can help us work out our problems. Let’s think of some Bible verses to encourage us to face the future with hope.”

Brooke sniffled and blew her nose with a pink tissue that she took from the pocket of her brown shorts. “I don’t know many verses ’cept the Lord’s Prayer and the Twenty-third psalm.”

“That psalm has a lot of encouraging words. Can you think of one verse to say over and over when you’re scared?”

“‘The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.’”

“That’s a good one,” Janice said. “The one I’m thinking about is from the New Testament. The apostle Paul encouraged his young friend, Timothy, by saying, ‘God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power; and of love, and of a sound mind.’ We won’t let that old dilapidated house scare us. Let’s think about how it looked a hundred years ago.”

“In that picture you have?”

“Yes. Maybe we can make it that way again.”

With a wistful sigh, Brooke said, “I do want a home of our own. I’m always afraid I’ll have to live with Dad and Mom again.”

Janice winced when Brooke expressed the fear that had worried her until she turned eighteen. “I’m your legal guardian now, and wherever I am, you’re going to be with me,” she said firmly.

“I don’t suppose they’d want me anyway.”

Hatred, so acute it almost choked her, surged through Janice. Her feelings about her parents had been one barrier she couldn’t overcome to maintain a satisfying Christian outlook. She couldn’t forgive her parents for the way they’d neglected Brooke and her. Leroy and Florence Reid were addicted to drugs and alcohol, and they spent most of their time in bars. Even when they were at home, they lolled around in drunken stupors. Most of their money was spent on alcohol, not food for their children.

She could have stood it for herself, but when it became clear even to her young eyes that Brooke was in danger of becoming malnourished, Janice had started hoarding away money taken from her parents’ wallets for food. She’d been successful in keeping them alive for six months before her parents were arrested and convicted of robbing a convenience store. They’d been sent to prison for ten years, with the possibility of parole after seven. Brooke had become a ward of the Department of Health and Human Services when Janice had been sent to the Valley of Hope.

Suddenly it dawned on Janice that it was almost time for her parents to be paroled. Even if they hadn’t contacted their daughters while they were in prison, if her father found out that she’d inherited his brother’s estate, he’d try to take the money away from her. She wished now that she’d been more secretive about where she was moving.

The compassion of Miss Caroline and the other staff members at VOH had compensated somewhat for the physical misery of Janice’s first fourteen years. But her parents’ neglect gnawed at Janice’s spirit every day, and she didn’t think she could ever forgive them. Even when she’d prayed the Lord’s Prayer in chapel services, she had always remained silent when they came to the phrase, “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.”

Her unwillingness to forgive had always stood between Janice and a satisfactory relationship with God. She believed that Jesus had died for her sins and she’d accepted Him as her Savior. But could she ever claim Him as Lord of her life until she humbled herself and forgave her parents?




Chapter Two


The one-story, rambling elementary school, with a redbrick and stone exterior, was a relatively new structure. Janice halted the car beside a man who was sweeping the sidewalk in front of the school, and rolled down the car’s window.

“Are any of the school officials in today?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “The principal and the guidance counselor are here, and a secretary.”

“Good. Where should I park?”

He motioned to the front of the building. “Right here beside the school is okay,” he said. “There ain’t much traffic today.” With a chuckle, he added, “But wait ’til school starts—we’ll have plenty of cars around here then.”

“Thanks.”

The man waved a friendly hand and continued sweeping as she and Brooke got out of the car and entered the building through a set of double doors. They faced a long hallway with other corridors to the left and right. An arrow on the wall, labeled “Office,” pointed to the right.

“I’m scared,” Brooke said, her steps lagging.

Janice was uneasy about their situation, too, and she muttered, “‘God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power.’”

She straightened her back, took Brooke’s hand and headed resolutely toward the office. Her shaky self-assurance suffered an immediate setback when she turned the corner and narrowly missed colliding with the same man she’d bumped into at the convenience store earlier in the day.

Lance Gordon couldn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t be encountering this young woman twice in the same day! Normally, he wouldn’t have given the previous incident a second thought, but this woman’s long-lashed green eyes and stubborn chin had flashed frequently into his mind as he’d continued his daily schedule. Assuming that she was just a stranger passing through town, he was surprised at his low spirits when he thought he wouldn’t see her again.

“So we meet again,” he said, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“But at least this meeting wasn’t as dramatic as the one this morning,” Janice said, trying to match his light tone.

Lance glanced from Janice to Brooke, noticing the resemblance in their features.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I want to enroll my sister in school.”

Lance’s heart skipped a beat and he sensed a rush of pleasure to know that meeting this woman hadn’t been transitory. His eagerness to get acquainted with her surprised him.

“The guidance counselor is the one to see, but she’s busy with another family right now,” he said. “Come into my office. I’ll take down some of your personal information, and she’ll schedule your classes later on in the week.”

He motioned them to the door tagged with a principal’s sign.

“You’re the principal?” Janice asked as she walked through the door he held open for them. He seemed very young to be the administrator of a school.

“Yes. I’m Lance Gordon.”

“My name is Janice Reid, and this is my sister, Brooke. She’ll be entering the sixth grade.”

Janice apparently wasn’t married since she had the same name as her sister, Lance thought as he pulled out two chairs from a conference table in his office. And what difference does that make? he demanded of his inner self, looking surreptitiously at her left hand, which didn’t have a ring of any kind. After Brooke and Janice were seated, he took a chair opposite them and picked up a yellow pad that was on the table.

“Are you living in Stanton or in the rural area of the county?”

“Does it matter?”

He looked at her questioningly. “Not at all, as far as attending school here. We serve the whole county, but I wanted to know if she’d travel by bus.”

“I don’t know. When I bumped into you this morning, literally speaking, that was the first time I’d ever set foot in Stanton. I don’t know anything about the area.”

“Where are you going to live?”

“I don’t know that, either,” she said, with a glance at Brooke.

Momentarily, Lance wondered if he had a homeless family on his hands. But, with the spirit of independence that hovered around Janice Reid like an aura, she didn’t resemble any homeless person he’d ever known. Besides, both Janice and her sister were well-dressed, and if he remembered correctly, the sedan she’d been driving this morning was only two or three years old.

A slight tap on the door interrupted them, and a child peeped into the room. “I wanted to see if you were busy, Uncle Lance. I guess you are.”

“Come on in, Taylor,” he said, “and meet a new student, who’ll be in your grade this term.”

The sandy-haired girl with blue eyes stepped to her uncle’s side.

“Brooke, this is my niece, Taylor Mallory. She’s entering the sixth grade, too. Brooke Reid and her sister Janice are moving to Stanton. How about giving Brooke a tour of the building while her sister and I complete her enrollment?”

Taylor clapped her hands, and it was evident that she was an enthusiastic child, a perfect foil for Brooke’s quiet, meek nature. “That will be big fun. Come on, Brooke. This is a great school, but we’re going to have a tough teacher.”

Taylor’s chattering continued as the two children left. Janice was pleased to have the opportunity to talk without Brooke in the room.

“Why are you reluctant to tell me where you’re living?” Lance asked, interrupting her musings.

“I don’t know where I’ll live,” she said. “And if I tell you where I thought I’d be living, you’ll laugh.”

“Try me,” he said, a compelling expression in his piercing blue eyes.

“I’ve inherited the Reid property on the outskirts of town. I’d intended to live there until I saw it for the first time today.”

Instead of being amused, Lance was momentarily appalled that Janice was related to the local—and infamous—Reid family. He could understand why Janice was disappointed about the house’s condition, because after John Reid’s death, the house had deteriorated rapidly. It seemed strange that no one had informed Janice about the condition of her property.

“So you’re John Reid’s niece?”

“Yes, but it was a surprise when he remembered me in his will. My father is the black sheep of the family, and he’s had nothing to do with the Reids for years. I haven’t seen any of them since I was a child.”

John Reid was a respectable member of the community, but most of the Reid family did have a poor reputation. John had prospered, but Lance supposed that his long illness had depleted his finances. Janice’s inheritance probably wasn’t a large one.

“I couldn’t inherit until I was twenty-one,” Janice continued. “I’ve only had a car for a few weeks, so I hadn’t looked over my legacy until an hour ago. As you can imagine, I had quite a surprise.”

“When I was a child, it was a nice house, but I don’t suppose it’s fit to live in now.”

“I’m not giving up on that idea until I see the inside of the place. I had an appointment to see Mr. Santrock, the lawyer, this morning, but he won’t be in his office today. His secretary wouldn’t let me have the key to the house.”

“But I…” Lance started and paused. On his way to work this morning, he’d seen Santrock walking along Main Street. But perhaps he shouldn’t tell Janice—the lawyer may have had a good reason for not keeping the appointment. Maybe something unexpected had come up after he’d seen him.

Janice looked at him curiously, but when he didn’t continue, she said, “I’ve quit my job, and I intend to live somewhere in Stanton. What do you need to know about Brooke? I’ll have her school records transferred as soon as we go back home.”

“Her age?” Lance asked

“Eleven.”

“Where has she attended school?”

“The elementary school in Willow Creek. I’m Brooke’s guardian.”

Janice seemed young to be the guardian of her sister. Lance wondered if their parents were dead.

“We can probably find everything we need to know from her records when they arrive.”

“I’ll have them transferred right away. When does school start?”

“August twenty-fifth.”

“That will give me more than a week to finish my work and move. I noticed there’s a motel where we can stay for a few days until I settle on something.”

Glancing through the window behind Lance, Janice saw Brooke and Taylor shooting baskets on the playground, and she felt compelled to confide in him. She wouldn’t start a new life by concealing the ugly things in her past.

“Thanks for not asking questions, but there are things about us that you should know, things you won’t find in Brooke’s records.”

Janice’s mouth was tight and grim and her long-lashed green eyes smoldered with bitterness. Still staring out the window, she explained. “The reason I’m Brooke’s guardian is because our parents are in prison. They’ve been alcoholics and drug addicts as long as I can remember. They illegally traded their welfare benefits for money whenever they could. When their welfare payments stopped because they wouldn’t work, they started stealing to support their addictions.”

Janice paused and closed her eyes. Those days were a nightmare she wished she could forget.

“They were caught robbing a convenience store and sent to prison. Brooke was placed in a foster home and I was sent to the Valley of Hope.” She looked directly at him. “Do you know what kind of place that is?”

Lance had heard of the Valley of Hope, a reputable institution that ministered to at-risk children and teenagers. He couldn’t envision Janice Reid as an at-risk teenager. At a loss to know how to comment, Lance said, “Yes.”

“I was fourteen and Brooke was four when that happened. I left VOH when I graduated from high school, got a job and saved enough money to prove I can support my sister. Uncle John’s legacy also helped to convince the Department of Health and Human Services that I’m a fit guardian.”

Janice’s hands moved restlessly and she clenched them in her lap.

“I’ve prayed that this inheritance was the end of our troubles and that Brooke and I could have a home together here.” She looked at Lance quickly, hopefully. “How will people in Stanton react to us when they learn that our parents are in prison?”

Lance leaned forward in his chair and placed his elbows on the table. The compassion in his dark blue eyes lessened the tension Janice experienced when she talked about her parents.

“Stanton residents are no different from people the world over. Most of them will accept you, believing you shouldn’t be blamed for your parents’ actions. Others will mistrust you.”

“It doesn’t matter for me, but Brooke is a timid, trusting child. I don’t want her hurt.”

“I can understand that all too well,” he said. “Taylor’s father served three years in prison, and it’s been rough for her. Dale was sent to prison because he’d embezzled funds from the local bank, although he’s always asserted his innocence. Linda, my sister, had divorced Dale before this happened, and she and Taylor moved in with me.”

“Then Brooke and Taylor should get along all right.”

“I’m sure of it. Taylor seems happy-go-lucky, but she loves her father, and she feels sorry for him.”

“When I inherited this house, and a fair amount of money, I thought it would be good for Brooke and me to start a new life. I intended to go to college while Brooke was in school. Now I’m not so sure, but since I’ve put my plans in motion, I’ll give it a try. I’ve been working at SuperMart in Willow Creek, and since they have a store here, I can work part-time if I have to. If the house isn’t worth renovating, I’m sure I can sell the property. Considering that it’s within the city limits, it should bring enough so I can buy another house.”

“Actually, the city limits run through your property, so it’s hard to tell what part is within the city. But it should sell if you put the property in the hands of a reputable real estate agent, and I can recommend one to you. Or Loren Santrock can advise you. He’s the town’s leading attorney.”

Janice heard Brooke’s voice in the hallway, and she took a small notebook from her purse and wrote down her cell phone number. Standing, she said, “We’ll have to leave now, because I want to get back to Willow Creek before dark.”

She tore the sheet from her notebook and handed it to Lance. “I don’t have a phone in my apartment, but you can reach me on my cell if you need to contact me.”

Lance walked to the car with Janice and Brooke, and he stood on the sidewalk and waved goodbye. He had observed many things about Janice during their meeting, but he was struck by the fact that she hadn’t once smiled. Had her miserable childhood and the responsibilities she’d had to assume for her sister taken all the gaiety from her life? Janice would be a beautiful woman if laughter erased the grimness around her mouth and pleasure brightened her eyes. Fleetingly he wondered what could bring about such a transformation.



As they left Stanton behind, Brooke immediately voiced her excitement about the school and her new friend.

“I like Taylor,” she said at once. “Her parents are divorced, and Taylor and her mother live with their uncle. Taylor wants her uncle to get married. She thinks if he has a wife, her mother will move out, and they can go back to live with Taylor’s dad. I told her that you weren’t married, either.”

Janice slanted a curious glance at her sister. “Is there a connection between those two statements?”

“Well, it would be neat if you’d get married, Janice. We could have a dad in the house like other people. And Taylor said her uncle is a really nice man.”

“I’m sure he is, but I doubt he’d appreciate having his niece find a wife for him.”

“Did you like him?” Brooke persisted.

Janice felt her face get warm, and she said, “Oh, let Lance Gordon find his own wife. Marriage isn’t in my plans for the future. Tell me about the school.”

“It’s awesome. There’s a great big computer lab, a gym and neat classrooms. The school takes two or three field trips every year. The sixth graders usually go to Washington, D.C. I love it already.”



Janice chatted with her customer and automatically scanned the items the woman placed on the counter. She’d already turned on the closed sign at her SuperMart checkout station. Janice had long ago convinced herself that she could stand anything for five more minutes. She tried to send that message to her back and feet, so they’d hold her erect until she received the customer’s money and sacked her purchases.

“We’re going to miss you, Janice,” the woman said sincerely. “You’re my favorite clerk.”

“Thank you,” Janice murmured with a catch in her voice. She’d made many friends at the store during the past three years. She would miss them, and she hoped she wouldn’t regret her decision to move.

Somewhat apprehensive of the big change a move to Stanton would make in her life, Janice walked quickly to the office to clock out of the store for the last time. She wanted to avoid any last-minute goodbyes to delay her because she still had a few things to do before she could leave Stanton.

Her co-workers had surprised her with a farewell party the night before and had given her a television, complete with DVD and VCR. She appreciated this evidence of their friendship, but the gift meant that she must rent a small U-Haul trailer to move her belongings, because there wasn’t room in her car for a television. She was pleased with the gift though, for it would be enjoyable for Brooke to have a new television to watch.

Her intention to slip out of the store without notice was thwarted, however, when her supervisor called, “Here’s a letter for you—came in today’s mail.”

Janice took the letter, thinking it must be a card from one of the employees who’d missed last night’s party. She stuck the envelope in the pocket of her jeans and waved a general goodbye to her co-workers as she hurried out of the store.

Janice made her first stop at a garage, and she sat in the car while the mechanic attached a trailer hitch to her car. Fidgeting over this inactivity, Janice remembered the letter in her pocket.

The wrinkled envelope had no return address, and the postmark was smudged. Letters containing hazardous materials came to mind. She’d heard warnings on television about opening an envelope or package if it looked suspicious. She discounted the idea that an insignificant person like herself would be targeted for a terrorist’s attack, but she decided to be cautious. She stepped outside the car, held the envelope at arm’s length, and opened it with a nail file. No white substance was evident, and she concluded that the message was harmless.

Unfolding the single sheet of paper, she read it and stared in horror at the words.

If you know what’s good for you, stay away from Stanton.

Stunned by the message, Janice staggered to the car, her rapid pulse thudding in her forehead. Slumping in the seat, fearful images built in her mind and her stomach quivered with terror. What kind of prank was this? What difference could it make to anyone if she moved to Stanton?

After the first wave of fear, anger replaced Janice’s distress and she rationalized the situation. This letter had probably been sent by her father’s relatives still living in the Stanton area. Was this their way of telling her they were angry because the Reid property had passed to her?

Janice’s stubborn streak was stronger than her fear. She set her jaw and muttered, “They can like it or lump it! I’m moving to Stanton.”

Her face flushed when the man working on her car said, “What did you say, ma’am?”

She admitted she was talking to herself, but her embarrassment passed when the mechanic said, “My old daddy talked to himself, too—said he liked to talk to a smart man once in a while.”

The man’s remark amused her and eased the tension, but the note was unsettling. She fretted about it as she drove toward the Valley of Hope to say goodbye to Miss Caroline. When she turned the curve, and had a bird’s-eye view of the place that had once been her home, Janice paused briefly to survey the area with nostalgia. She had found the first security she’d ever known at VOH, and it was wrenching to leave it all behind. She couldn’t use Miss Caroline as her security blanket forever, but she would always be grateful for the care she’d received at VOH.

After she’d lost her fiancé in a coal mine accident, Caroline Renault had established the facility forty years ago in northeastern West Virginia. In anticipation of their marriage, her fiancé had named Miss Caroline the beneficiary of his life insurance. She’d added the insurance money to her own fortune and had started VOH with two buildings and a few children. Gas wells on the property provided an income that had helped VOH become self-supporting. Several of Miss Caroline’s family and friends had also contributed liberally to the growth of the facility.

Through the years VOH had increased to twenty brick buildings, comprising well-equipped elementary and secondary schools. Residents lived in a family atmosphere in several dormitories with adult supervisors. The majority of the teachers lived off-campus.

Janice had enjoyed the independence she’d had during the three years she’d been away from VOH. But as she slowly approached the buildings, she thought of the time she’d come here as a scared and rebellious teenager. She shuddered to think where she might be today if she hadn’t been sent to VOH.

Although her mentor had just turned seventy, Janice always considered Miss Caroline an ageless woman. Yet now Janice saw a myriad of fine lines etched on Miss Caroline’s pearl-like complexion. Her hair was totally white, although when Janice had arrived at VOH, her dark hair had only been streaked with gray. But her generous and tender smile hadn’t changed. Janice thought she’d remember the smile longer than anything else about this woman.

The hand Miss Caroline held out to Janice trembled slightly. “And how did you like Stanton?” she asked, her eyes alight with interest.

Janice explained about the condition of the property, and added, “Since the house is in such bad shape, maybe I should put it on the market and stay in Willow Creek. At least I have friends here, and I don’t know anyone in Stanton. Am I doing the right thing?”

“I don’t know,” Miss Caroline said, the interest in her eyes changing to concern. “I believe this is something you have to do. I was aware that you chafed at the restraints we put on you at VOH.”

Janice stared at her in surprise. “Oh, no, Miss Caroline. You’ll never know how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me.”

“I know that, but still you didn’t like being under obligation to me.”

“That’s true. I don’t want to be obligated to anyone, and I considered it a godsend when I heard my uncle had remembered me in his will. I have a picture of Mountjoy taken years ago, and it was a fine-looking place. I didn’t doubt that I could move in there, take a part-time job to pay living expenses and use the money I inherited for college expenses for Brooke and myself. Now, I don’t know what to do. I’m excited and hesitant at the same time—if that makes any sense. Actually, I suppose I’m afraid to cut my ties with the past.”

Miss Caroline smiled. “But you’ll only be two hundred miles away, and I’m always as near as the telephone.”

“I know. I suppose I’m being foolish. And in spite of all you’ve done for me in the past, I want to ask your advice once again. I assume that you don’t know the contents of the letter my uncle entrusted to your care, which you gave to me when I turned twenty-one.”

A surprised look came into Miss Caroline’s eyes. “No. When he sent your letter, he enclosed a message to me asking me to be the guardian of the letter until you came of age.”

Janice took the letter from her purse and handed it across the table. “Read it, please.”

Adjusting her glasses, Miss Caroline read aloud.

“‘Dear Janice, when you read this letter, I will be gone. I’m sorry I haven’t stayed in touch with you and your sister. My brother and I have been at odds for years, and I’d lost track of you. However, my investigations have proven that you’ve overcome the problems of a difficult childhood and have grown into a fine woman. I hope my legacy will make the rest of your life easier.’”

Caroline read the last paragraph silently. Her eyes expressed alarm, and she glanced quickly at Janice before reading the final words of the letter.

“‘I’ve recently become aware of some mysterious happenings at Mountjoy, but I intend to find out what’s going on. I pray that I haven’t saddled you with more trouble than you needed.’”

Miss Caroline glanced at the date of the letter before she folded the page, put it in the envelope and gave it back to Janice. “Wasn’t this written a few days before his death?”

“Yes. I’m wondering if he solved the problem before he died, or if it’s something I’ll have to contend with.”

Miss Caroline shook her head. “A lot can happen in three years. I wish I could help you, but I don’t know enough about the situation. I’ll pray that when you move to Stanton, God will provide someone to advise you.”

Janice bent forward to kiss Miss Caroline’s cheek. She wanted to cry, but that was a luxury she’d denied herself years ago.

“Thank you. As you know, I have a lot of confidence in your prayers.”

Miss Caroline stood and hugged Janice tightly. “You will never be so far away that my prayers won’t go with you. Be assured that anytime you’re in distress, I’ve talked to God about you that day.”

During her dysfunctional childhood, Janice had become hardened to saying goodbye, so once she left VOH, she didn’t look back. She drove to the home of Brooke’s foster parents to pick up her sister.

The Smiths had given Brooke security and love. They’d grown fond of Brooke, and losing her was heartbreaking for them. Now that the couple was in their mid-sixties, they’d decided to turn their responsibilities over to younger people. Brooke was the last resident they would invite into their home. Brooke cried and clung to the Smiths when they said goodbye. She was still sobbing when they drove into downtown Willow Creek.

“I have all of my dishes and pans packed,” Janice said. “Let’s stop for Chinese food and take it to the apartment to eat.”

“That’s okay,” Brooke said, smothering a sob. “I feel sad because I don’t have a home anymore. You’re giving up your apartment, I’m leaving the Smith home, and that house in Stanton is terrible. Where are we gonna live?”

Was it a mistake to take Brooke away from the only security she’d ever had? Janice hadn’t slept the night before, wondering if she’d made the right choice. She drove into the White Dragon lot, went inside with Brooke and placed their order.

While she waited for the food, Janice said, “I don’t know where we’ll live, little sister, but trust me. If you’re unhappy in Stanton, we’ll come back to Willow Creek. I feel this move is the right one, so let’s put the past behind us. Think about the new school you’ll attend and your new friend, Taylor. And don’t forget I’m planning to turn Mountjoy into a nice home for us.”

“Okay. I’ll try.”

By the time they reached the apartment and started eating sweet and sour chicken, vegetables, rice and fruit, Brooke’s sunny nature had resurfaced. Janice surveyed the efficiency apartment that had been her home for three years. Having lived four years at VOH, where she had no privacy at all, Janice had enjoyed the quietness of the apartment. She’d rented a furnished apartment because she’d had nothing when she’d moved in except two boxes of clothes. Stripped of the knickknacks and pictures Janice had bought at garage sales and the bargain shelves at SuperMart, the apartment looked as vacant now as it had the first week she’d lived there.

All of the possessions she’d accumulated were packed in medium-sized cartons, the contents listed on each box with a permanent black marker. The boxes were stacked near the door ready to be packed in the trailer.

Knowing that tomorrow would be a long, traumatic day, soon after nine o’clock, Janice encouraged Brooke to take a shower in the pint-sized bathroom and get ready for bed. While Janice waited her turn for a shower, she hummed a song she used to sing with Madison, her best friend.

Madison, who liked to be called Maddie, was a sophomore at West Virginia University. They hadn’t see each other often after Maddie had left VOH, but they talked by phone several times each month. She hadn’t heard from Maddie for several days, and when her cell phone rang, Janice figured Maddie was calling.

She was totally surprised when she answered the phone.

“Miss Reid, this is Lance Gordon. We received Brooke’s papers today. Everything was in order. Her grades are excellent.”

“Yes, I’m proud of her,” Janice said. “She’s always been a good student.”

“Are you about ready to leave?”

“Bright and early tomorrow morning. The manager of the apartment building is going to help us load our things. My car is small and it won’t have much speed crossing the mountains, pulling a trailer. But I intend to arrive in Stanton by midafternoon.”

“I took the liberty of checking the Montrose Apartments, and they have a vacancy.”

The warmth and concern in his voice surprised and pleased Janice.

“Thanks for telling me. That will save me the trouble of looking for an apartment if I need one. I’ve made reservations at the motel for a couple of nights. I don’t want to rent an apartment if Mountjoy is livable at all.”

“I’m afraid it would be primitive living.”

“Believe me, Mr. Gordon, I’ve lived in primitive conditions.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help you settle in, let me know.”

“I sure will. Thanks for calling.”

A smile had spread across Janice’s face while they talked, and it refused to leave. She smiled so rarely that she marvelled at the soft creases in her normally sober face visible in the mirror. Was Lance Gordon interested in her as more than a student’s guardian?

Janice didn’t know much about the opposite sex. Her father certainly hadn’t been a role model, and at VOH, the girls had outnumbered boys. Besides, Miss Caroline had discouraged anything beyond casual friendship between the girls and boys at the facility, urging schoolwork over dating.

After Janice had started working, she hadn’t had time to date anyone. She was so desperate to make money that she worked forty hours each week, and all the overtime she was allowed to have. Although Lance Gordon seemed like the answer to any woman’s dream, Janice couldn’t allow herself to consider dating him, even if he was interested in her. She had a house to renovate, a sister to care for and a mystery to solve. Would that leave her any time for romance?




Chapter Three


Lance sat with his hand on the phone, staring into space, unaware of the beautiful bed of dahlias blooming outside his bedroom window. He had many female friends, but he hadn’t dated a woman since college. His profession and his church commitments filled all of his time. What had prompted him to telephone Janice? He was happy as a bachelor, and he had no desire to change that status, yet Janice had hardly been out of his mind since he’d met her. What was there about Janice Reid that had stirred his imagination as no other woman ever had?

Perhaps it was her rigid back and purposeful posture that had first alerted him to the fact that, despite her young age, she was a woman with a strong personality. Her facial features had impressed him so much that, if he were an artist, he believed he could paint her portrait from memory.

Janice possessed a small delicate nose and long-lashed green eyes set in a smooth ivory skin with a hint of roses in her cheeks. Her chestnut-brown hair was short and straight. She was of average height, about five feet, six inches tall, and she had a well-proportioned body. She could be considered a beauty, except for her stubborn chin and a grim expression that spoiled the loveliness of her full, curved mouth.

As soon as Lance had dialed her number, he’d suddenly hoped that Janice wouldn’t answer, or that she’d tell him she wasn’t coming to Stanton. Still, his heart had lurched with excitement when, in her husky voice, she’d said she would arrive in Stanton tomorrow. Why did it matter to him?

Was it because he was worried about Janice’s reception in Stanton? The Reids in the area were known as shiftless and dishonest, usually staying a few steps ahead of law. Would the local residents welcome two more Reids? He prayed that people wouldn’t condemn Janice and Brooke because of their relatives.

The next morning before he went to work, with Janice’s interests in mind, Lance drove to her property. He put on heavy leather boots and carried a sturdy walking stick to push aside brush that blocked the pathways, and for protection in case any poisonous snakes had infested the vacant property. It had rained the night before and fog drifted down from the mountain peaks.

Stepping from the car, he surveyed Janice’s inheritance anxiously. As the house peeked in and out of the wispy fog, he was reminded of the illustration on the cover of a mystery novel he’d read recently. He couldn’t imagine Janice and Brooke living here. He wasn’t sure that he would contemplate living in such an isolated area. But it wasn’t his concern.

Knowing that he should back off and let Janice Reid make her own decisions, Lance approached the metal gate blocking the entrance to the property. The hasp on the gate had rusted shut and Lance went back to his car to get a screwdriver out of the toolbox he carried in the trunk.

The hasp shattered and fell to the ground when he pried on it with the screwdriver. He pushed the gate open and stepped into a jungle of shrubbery that had once neatly lined the driveway but had spread into a wilderness during recent years. An untrimmed yew hedge partially concealed the house from the highway. In his effort to get close enough to judge the house’s condition, Lance blundered into a thicket of multiflora rosebushes. A sharp thorn tore his shirt and pricked his shoulder. Disgusted with himself for sticking his nose into Janice’s business, Lance knew he’d have to go back home and change before he went to the school. And how was he going to explain the torn shirt to his sister, who watched his activities like a hawk?

Veering to the left and climbing the hill, he saw a corner of the house several yards beyond him. He turned in that direction. Several hardwood trees and a couple of spruces marked the border of what must have been the lawn. If the tall hedge along the foundation was trimmed and the underbrush cleared away, the house wouldn’t seem so depressing.

Experiencing the strange feeling that he was being watched, Lance stopped abruptly and looked carefully around him. He had a good view of the house and the hill beyond it from this point. It would be easy enough for someone to hide behind any of the big trees or behind the outbuilding to the right of the house. Determined that the disturbing stories he’d heard about the house wouldn’t affect his common sense, Lance strode forward purposefully. He heard a sound to his left and jumped behind a tree. Slightly amused at himself when a rabbit ran under a large bush, he walked on and paused before the three steps that led to the front porch.

The steps looked sturdy enough, but he put one foot cautiously on the first step to be sure it wouldn’t collapse under his weight. Suddenly, Lance heard someone groan beside him, and he stumbled to the floor of the porch. Goose bumps popped out on his arms as sounds of thunder and the roar of hurricane-force winds swept around him. Did he hear bells ringing or had the stories he’d heard about Mountjoy caused him to imagine these sounds? Lance hadn’t watched a horror movie for years, but this sudden assault on his senses reminded him of the movies he’d watched when he was a teenager.

For a moment he was stunned, unable to move. His flesh crawled and his palms moistened with sweat as the sounds faded into the distance. Lance jumped off the porch and ran for cover in the dense shrubbery beside the porch. His heart thudded in his chest and he gasped for breath.

What, or who, had made those sounds? Not for a moment did he believe that ghosts inhabited the house, but he knew now that the stories he’d heard about people being scared away from the area had been true. Something was wrong at Mountjoy. It was no place for Janice Reid to live.

When his pulse steadied, Lance returned to his car. If he reported this incident to the police, he’d be ridiculed like other people who believed the house was haunted. But as he drove into Stanton, he questioned if he should tell Janice what had happened. Or was it time for him to stop involving himself in Janice Reid’s life?



When they left Willow Creek early Friday morning, Janice learned that cutting her ties with the Valley of Hope was more difficult than she’d anticipated.

During her childhood, Janice’s parents had moved so often that she hadn’t gotten attached to any one place, and she’d made few friends. She had since realized that her parents lived in one house until they couldn’t pay the rent, then moved to a new area and rented another house. She hadn’t attended any school long enough to get a basic education and she was behind her peers when she’d gone to VOH. With special tutoring, she’d soon caught up with her classmates and had graduated from high school with average grades.

All of the residents at VOH had come with problems of some kind, so she hadn’t felt inferior there as she had in the other schools she’d attended. At the Valley of Hope, Janice had the assurance of a warm bed at night, all the food she needed and no fear of what the next day would bring.

Janice’s car pulled the heavily loaded trailer better than she expected, and they arrived in Stanton about two o’clock. When they passed the convenience store where they’d bought gas on their previous visit to Stanton, Brooke shouted, “Look, Janice, there’s that dog I fed last time.”

Slowing for a red light, Janice glanced in the direction Brooke pointed and saw the dog standing beside the road. He looked worse than he had the last time.

“Poor doggie,” Brooke said. “He’s still hungry.” The light turned green, and Janice moved forward slowly. Brooke rolled down the window and tossed the hamburger she’d been eating toward the dog. He snatched the sandwich in midair and disappeared from sight.

“He must not have a home, either,” Brooke said, and the pathos of her words stabbed Janice’s heart.

She started to say that Brooke had a home now. But not knowing the condition of the Reid house, she remained silent.

The motel was located several blocks from the convenience store, and when Janice checked in, she received permission to park the trailer until she could make further plans. While Brooke was in school on Monday, Janice would find a place for them to live.

Hoping to make some decision about the property over the weekend, Janice took Brooke with her and went to Loren Santrock’s office. She was fortunate that she not only found the man in his office, but that he was willing to talk to her.

Mr. Santrock was a fatherly man, whom Janice liked at once. Miss Banner was talking on the phone, and he personally escorted Janice and Brooke into his office, which looked as if it hadn’t changed for twenty years. His old, comfortable furniture was a stark contrast to the reception area.

Perhaps interpreting Janice’s appraising glance, he said with a smile, “Miss Banner persuaded me to update her equipment and office furniture. She insisted that I should make a better impression on prospective clients. She’s been my right arm for over fifteen years, so I let her have full sway in the outer office, but I balked when she tried to change my office.” His eyes twinkled like a mischievous child when he added, “I’m too set in my ways to want a lot of new furniture.”

From a small refrigerator concealed behind a screen, Mr. Santrock brought a pitcher of tea and some glasses. He poured a glass each for Janice and Brooke, then one for himself. He placed a tray of cookies within their reach, saying, “This is Miss Banner’s little touch. Help yourself.”

After he’d seen to their immediate comfort, the lawyer said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t on hand to meet you last week, but it was one of those uncontrollable situations. I’m at your service today. I have all the papers ready for your signature to turn John Reid’s assets over to you. The local bank will help you transfer the money to a banking institution of your choice.”

“I intend to leave everything in the local bank.”

“Wouldn’t it be more convenient for you to have the money in Willow Creek?”

“Not when I intend to live in Stanton.”

The lawyer stared at her, a look of horror evident on his face. Suddenly, he was speechless, although he’d been quite talkative before.

“Besides the house, how much cash is there?” Janice asked. “I don’t mean to sound mercenary, but I need to know where I stand before I start renovating the house.”

Concern replaced incredulity on Mr. Santrock’s face, and his heavy eyebrows lifted. In a fatherly tone, he said, “My dear child, you can’t live at Mountjoy.”

Flushing, Janice said, “That’s been my intention since I learned I’d inherited the property, though I’ll admit I was discouraged when I took a quick look at the house from a distance. It may be beyond repair, but if it is, I’ll sell it and use the money to buy a house in town.”

“I haven’t been in the house for a long time, but I’m sure it’s a wreck.”

“You’re probably right, but I won’t know until I look over the place. Will you give me the key so I can check it out?”

“I don’t have a key, and I doubt you’d need one anyway. I don’t suppose the house has been locked for years. Most people hereabouts never lock their doors. If there is a key, Henrietta Cunningham might have it.”

“Who’s Henrietta Cunningham?”

“Your uncle’s housekeeper. She took care of him for several years. In exchange for her services, he gave her the house he owned in Stanton.”

“If you think the house is unlocked, I won’t bother Mrs. Cunningham.”

“But you shouldn’t go to the property alone. I don’t know how stable the floors are, and you might fall and hurt yourself. It will be several days before I’m free to go with you.”

“I don’t want to wait that long.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Mr. Santrock said, “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Remembering the letter she’d received telling her to stay away from Stanton, a cold chill tingled down Janice’s spine. She wondered if there was some danger at the house, and the lawyer was trying to protect her. She had the distinct feeling that he didn’t want her moving to Mountjoy, although he’d seemed glad to see her today. But was that because he thought she’d be leaving Stanton? When he hadn’t kept his appointment with her before, she’d questioned if he was deliberately avoiding her. But Mr. Santrock seemed helpful enough now, and Janice knew she had to curb her suspicious nature. He was probably only concerned with her safety. Remembering that Miss Caroline was praying for someone to advise her, she thought Loren Santrock might be that person, when he continued in a kindly tone.

“Now about the rest of your inheritance—your uncle had some government bonds, as well as several accounts in the local bank worth about fifty thousand dollars. Add the property to that, and you’ve come into a tidy fortune. Of course, the house and land aren’t worth a great deal.”

“I thought the land might be valuable even if the house isn’t much good.”

He shook his head. “Except for the spot where the house stands, the rest of your property consists of a few acres of hilly land that isn’t fit for development. At one time the Reids owned several hundred acres in this county, but most of it was sold years ago. I’ll be glad to help you find a real estate agent if you decide to sell, but don’t expect it to bring a high price.”

“I’ll appreciate any help you can give me,” Janice said.

“Let’s call Miss Banner in to notarize your signature on some documents and I’ll send copies to the local bank. I’m chairman of the bank’s board of directors, so come to my office either Monday or Tuesday, and I’ll take you to the bank and introduce you. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, thank you,” Janice said as she stood. “I’ll see you Monday morning.”

“I’ll have Miss Banner put you on my appointment list for ten o’clock. It’s my pleasure to serve you as I did your uncle.”



Frustrated at the delay in exploring her inheritance, Janice wondered when she could go to Mountjoy. She didn’t intend to wait a week to see her property even if she had to go alone. But she didn’t want to take Brooke to the property until she’d checked out the place, so she’d have to wait until Monday when Brooke was in school.

As they went down the stairs from the lawyer’s office, Janice said, “Let’s walk to the school now, and see if there’s anything you need before Monday. I’ll find out from the guidance counselor if there are any rules about clothing, and then we’ll go to the mall outside of town and buy some clothes for you.”

A smile brightened Brooke’s small features, and she said, “I have enough clothes, but it would be great to have one or two new outfits.”

Janice’s pulse quickened as they entered the school. Would Lance be in his office? The secretary in the reception room took them to the guidance counselor’s office. Janice was pleased with the efficiency of the school staff. The counselor was sensitive to Brooke’s position as a new student and when they left the building, Brooke had no fear of starting to school on Monday. Janice wished she was as confident of the future.

After dinner they went to the motel and carried their suitcases to their spacious room. Brooke was fascinated by the large pictures, the spacious bathroom, the two phones, the entertainment center and the advertising brochures on the desk. She hadn’t stayed in a motel, although Janice had been in motels a few times when she was a child before her father had squandered all of his inheritance. Brooke was intrigued by the many channels available on the cable station and she quickly scanned all of the available programs.

The past two weeks had been traumatic for Janice, and she felt as if she’d reached the end of her tether. The responsibility of making decisions about her sister’s future weighed heavily on her mind. While Brooke watched the Disney Channel, Janice stretched out on the bed and dozed until the ringing phone awakened her.

Startled, she reached for the phone receiver.

“Turn the volume down, Brooke.” Hoping Mr. Santrock was calling to say he’d take her on a tour of Mountjoy, she said, “Hello.”

“Miss Reid, this is Lance Gordon. I’m sorry I missed you at school today. Did the staff take care of you?”

She sat up in bed and shoved a couple of pillows behind her back. Pleased by his call, Janice said, “Yes, very well. Brooke is excited about starting school.”

“What time did you get to Stanton?”

“About two o’clock.”

“So you’ve cut the ties with your former home.”

“Yes. For better or for worse, I’ve moved to Stanton. I saw Mr. Santrock today and signed the papers to transfer the ownership of my uncle’s property to me. He didn’t have a key to Mountjoy and questioned whether there was one. I’m going to explore the place as soon as I can.”

Lance hesitated before he asked, “Alone?”

“Yes. Mr. Santrock couldn’t go with me for several days, and I don’t want to wait that long. I won’t take Brooke with me until I see what the place is like, so I’ll have to wait until Monday.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute or two, and Janice asked, “Mr. Gordon, are you still on the line?”

“Yes. I shouldn’t give you unsolicited advice,” he said hesitantly, “but you shouldn’t go out there at all—especially alone.”

Why was Lance Gordon so determined that she shouldn’t see her property? She didn’t want to suspect him of trying to keep her away from Stanton, but it did seem strange that he was taking such an interest in her affairs. Was he the one who’d sent the warning note to stay away from Stanton?

“I don’t have much choice. My sister and I are homeless until I see the condition of the house.”

“Then I’ll go with you.”

It crossed Janice’s mind that she didn’t know much about Lance Gordon, even if he was a school principal. But she did dread exploring the place by herself. And though she couldn’t understand why he was befriending her, she thought she’d have to accept his help.

Perhaps Lance sensed that she was considering his offer for he remained silent.

“I am afraid to go alone,” she admitted. “I’d like to have your company.”

“Good! And let me make a suggestion about Brooke. My sister is taking Taylor to the movies tomorrow afternoon, and Brooke can go with them. If she’s with Linda, we can go to Mountjoy and take all the time we need to look at your property. I’ll come by the motel about one o’clock to get you and Brooke.”

“That’s all right with me, but maybe you’d better check it out with Taylor and your sister.”

“Taylor has talked about Brooke most of the time since she met her. She’ll be excited to have her along.” He gave Janice his phone number, saying, “Call if you need to, but if not, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Janice replaced the phone and a warm tenderness caressed a place in her heart that had been cold for years. She was accustomed to standing on her own two feet, not relying on anyone else. She’d thought she preferred it that way, but she suddenly realized how much simpler a problem seemed when someone shared it with her.

She bounded off the bed, saying, “You’re in for a fun day tomorrow, Brooke.”

When she explained about the planned visit with the Mallorys, Brooke grinned widely. “It’s nice to have friends.”

“Sure is,” Janice said, and she picked up a brush and started combing Brooke’s long silken brown hair, a bedtime ritual they’d started when Brooke was a toddler.



Lance wasn’t coming until one o’clock, and Janice had anticipated a leisurely morning, but the telephone beside her bed rang before seven. She pushed aside the covers and swung her feet to the floor when the motel clerk answered her hello.

“Miss Reid, something terrible happened last night. I just arrived for work, and when I walked across the parking lot, I noticed that the tires are flat on your car. Looks like they’ve been slashed. Since the damage occurred on our property, I’ve called the police.”

Janice’s hand shook as she replaced the phone. Stunned for a moment, she fell backward on the bed. This had to be another deliberate effort to drive her away from Stanton. Was it worth all of this drama to move to this town? She was tempted to return to Willow Creek as soon as her tires were repaired. Rallying, she hurried out of bed.

The ringing phone hadn’t awakened Brooke, but after Janice hurried into jeans and a T-shirt and strapped on a pair of sandals, she shook Brooke’s shoulder gently. When she thought her sister was awake, Janice said, “I’m going downstairs for a while. Stay in bed until I come back. I’ll bring breakfast.”

A police cruiser was parked behind her blue car when Janice rushed through the double doors of the motel and ran across the parking lot. The tires had been new when she’d bought the vehicle, but long punctures, presumably made with a knife, had destroyed them. As she viewed the vandalism, a myriad of emotions coursed through Janice’s mind.

At first she was incredulous that such a thing had happened. Disbelief faded into fury. Fear replaced anger when she considered the ramifications of what had happened to her car. Would her enemies attempt physical attacks on Brooke or her now that she had moved to Stanton?

Janice became aware that the chief of police stood beside her and she transferred her gaze to him.

He tipped the brim of his gray felt hat. “Bill Goodman at your service, ma’am. The hotel clerk says this is your car.”

She nodded, without speaking. Her throat was numb, and she swallowed with effort.

“Who are you, ma’am?”

“Janice Reid,” she stammered.

The chief of police’s brows shot up in surprise. “Any relation to the Reids in this county?”

“John Reid was my uncle.”

“Aha!” he said, and his brown eyes brightened with sudden comprehension. “So you’re the one who inherited his estate?”

“Yes. My father is his youngest brother. Although,” Janice added in a contemptuous tone, “I don’t go around bragging about it.”

“Do you know any of your relatives in these parts?”

She shook her head. “I don’t remember ever being here until I came last week.”

“Where’s your pa?”

“In prison somewhere. I haven’t heard from him for years.”

The officer fingered his mustache as he walked around her car. A few inches shorter than Janice, Chief Goodman was probably in his late fifties, and there was a slight stoop to his shoulders. His neat brown uniform failed to provide him with an impressive appearance.

“I’ll have to inspect the car before you can have the tires replaced,” he said. “Do you need the car today?”

“No. Can you recommend a garage to repair the damage?”

“There’s a tire store in town that will give you a good price if you can wait until Monday. They’re closed on Saturday afternoons and Sunday.”

“I can wait until then, I guess. I’ll be taking my little sister to school on Monday, but we can walk there.”

“You’re planning to live in Stanton?”

“Yes,” and motioning to her car, she added, “but it seems I’m being warned to leave.”

The cop’s eyes twinkled with admiration. “You’re a sharp lady!”

“What else can I think? I’ve looked around and no other cars in the lot have been touched. I don’t think it’s a random act of violence. This was deliberate and planned.”

“I’m sorry it happened to you.”

The chief got in the cruiser and drove away. Janice walked slowly into the motel and picked up some rolls and juice in the lobby. Unwilling to ruin Brooke’s pleasure in the day, she didn’t mention the vandalism.



Lance Gordon lived in a two-story stone house in a subdivision located on a plateau north of Stanton, about five miles from the center of town. Driving from the motel to his home, he explained, “I’d just built this house five years ago when Linda got her divorce and she moved in with me. I turned over the running of the house to her. I wanted Linda and Brooke to be free to entertain their friends, but I like my privacy. I reserved two rooms for my bedroom and office, and except for meals, that’s where I spend my time.”

Linda Mallory was a quiet, blond, sad-faced woman, but she was obviously pleased to look after Brooke for a few hours. Janice had no qualms about trusting Brooke to Linda’s care for the afternoon.

“One of my major worries about moving to Stanton has lessened now that Brooke has found a friend,” Janice said as Lance drove away from his house. “She’s always made friends quicker than I have.”

“Kids do seem to make friends easier than adults. For the most part, people in Stanton are easy to know. I believe both of you will find friends here.”

He wanted to assure her that she’d already found one in him, but Lance was puzzled by the air of defeat Janice exhibited today. Her shoulders slumped, and her slender hands unconsciously twisted together in her lap as if her composure was hanging by a single thread.

To avoid thinking about the new crisis, Janice focused on Lance. The other times she had seen him, he’d been dressed in a suit, dress shirt and tie. Today, he wore heavy leather boots, jeans and a casual long-sleeved shirt. A ball cap covered his light hair.

Janice had dressed in jeans, too, and she wore a sweatshirt and lightweight boots with thick soles.

After he parked by the entrance to Mountjoy, Lance took a machete and a large flashlight from the back of his van. He passed the flashlight to Janice.

At the gate, he paused with his hand on the latch. “I’ve hesitated to tell you,” he said, “but yesterday, I decided to check out your property. I got in sight of the house, and if I was superstitious, I’d say your property is haunted.”

Conscious of the sudden gray pallor that spread across her face and the apprehension in her eyes, he quickly explained what he’d heard the day before.

“Judging from similar experiences others have had when they’ve trespassed on the property,” he concluded, “this must be an effort to scare intruders away. I don’t know if it’s safe for you to go any farther.”

Lance’s words coming on the heels of the slashed tires alarmed Janice as nothing had ever done. She staggered against the gate, and Lance reached out a hand to steady her. She shook her head.

“I’m all right,” she struggled to say. Through tight lips, she told him about the written message she’d received warning her to stay away from Stanton.

“Maybe I should have heeded the warning. I don’t mind risking my own life to claim what belongs to me, but if anything happened to me, Brooke would be all alone!” Swallowing with difficulty, she continued, “And last night, the tires on my car were slashed. Chief Goodman is investigating.”

Lance frowned and his blue eyes darkened with anger.

“Every time I decide I can make a home in Stanton,” Janice continued, “something else happens. I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you want to do?” Lance asked.

“Forget I’ve ever heard of this place, take Brooke and move so far away that no one has ever heard of my family.”

A gleam of interest in his eyes, Lance persisted, “But what are you going to do?”

Janice forced herself to remember the biblical promise, “God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power.” If anything happened to her, surely God would take care of Brooke.

“Stay here, claim my property and find out who’s trying to drive me out of town.”

Smiling, Lance opened the gate and stepped aside for her to enter. “Then be my guest,” he said. Swiftly, he stepped in front of her. “On second thought, perhaps I’ll not be a gentleman today. I’ll walk in front—you stay behind me.” He handed his car keys to Janice. “If anything happens to me, run as fast as you can and bring the chief of police.”

Janice laid her hand on his arm. “This is my problem. I should take the risk, not you. Why are you going to all this trouble for me?”

A look of bewilderment in his eyes, Lance shook his head slowly. “I really don’t know.”




Chapter Four


Janice’s face flushed. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but I’m practically a stranger to you. I don’t know why you’d put your life on the line for me.”

“I don’t understand it, either,” he said, a hint of wonder in his voice. “Let’s just say it’s because you need help, and it’s my Christian duty to help you.”

“Except for the years I spent at VOH, I’ve taken care of myself and Brooke without any help. I’d like to think I can still do it, but I’m in over my head now. I can’t manage alone anymore.”

“Then let’s check out your property and go from there. Be careful.”

With the machete, Lance cleared a narrow path for them to follow until they came to the copse of evergreens. Dried needles matted the ground and walking was easier. Janice enjoyed a sense of pride to know that this property actually belonged to her. The grounds had been badly neglected and it was almost like walking through a wilderness, but she believed the lawn could be restored to its original splendor.

It was hot and stuffy under the trees, and Lance stopped to wipe his face with a handkerchief. Some of the underbrush consisted of sturdy brier vines that were difficult to cut. Janice felt guilty when she noticed several scratches on his arms. He breathed deeply and took a swig of water from the bottle he carried. Looking around, he asked, “Who’s been responsible for looking after this property?”

“Nobody, apparently. Mr. Santrock was administrator of Uncle John’s estate, but he said he hasn’t been here for years. Perhaps he thought the house was too far gone to need checking, and he may be right,” she added, when Lance hacked down a large multiflora rosebush and she had a sweeping view of the house.

Paint had peeled from the structure, vines grew all over the front porch, and several windows on the second floor were shattered. Branches from a tall spruce tree lay on the porch roof.

“We had a bad storm a week or so ago. Looks like the lightning struck that spruce tree. It will have to be cut down.”

The overall effect was disheartening. Janice wanted to turn tail and run, and authorize Mr. Santrock to sell Mountjoy before she went any farther.

Noting the dismay in her eyes, Lance said, “We’re here, so we might as well look inside. Don’t forget, I didn’t hear anything until I started up the steps. I’ll go first.”

Lance tested his weight on the steps and the top one buckled under him. He leaped on the porch to keep from falling. The porch floor itself seemed sturdy enough, probably because it was protected from the elements by a rusty roof. He half expected a repetition of the raucous noise he’d heard the other time he’d visited this house, but all was silent except for a mockingbird singing from one of the bushes.

He held out his hand to Janice. “Watch your step.”

Janice expelled the breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and accepted Lance’s help. In spite of the fear clutching at her heart, as Janice stepped on the front porch of her ancestral home, she had the unfamiliar sense of belonging.

Four windows fronting on the porch were placed symmetrically between a massive, oak door with an oval, leaded frosted-glass window. She put her face close to the cracked window panes, but they were too dirty for her to see the interior of the house. The sun shone brightly, but the towering spruce trees surrounding the house shut out the sunlight, and Janice shivered slightly. Lance tried the door but it was locked. He moved to a window, which lifted easily at his touch.

Taking the flashlight from Janice, Lance stuck his head cautiously through the window and flashed the light around the room. No danger seemed to lurk in the dim interior, so he stepped into the room. He reached a hand to Janice and steadied her as she climbed over the window sill.

Janice’s eyes adjusted slowly to the dark room.

“The house is still furnished!” she said.

Lance’s steps were loud as he walked around the room, the floorboards squeaking under his weight. He stopped beside a dark wooden divan upholstered in red velvet, noting two matching chairs.

“I’ve always heard that this house was luxurious. This was elegant furniture at one time.”

“Everything is dusty, and look at the floor—we didn’t make all of these tracks.”

“I’d noticed that,” Lance said, wishing that Janice hadn’t. “The house hasn’t been as vacant as it looked. Stay close to me and we’ll look around.”

The tracks had been made recently, Lance thought, and that there had been no effort to conceal them disturbed him.

Janice took hold of Lance’s shirttail and, grinning, she said, “Try to get rid of me. I’ll stick to you like a burr.”

They walked slowly through four large downstairs rooms, separated by a wide entrance hall that ran the length of the house. They’d entered the room to the right of the hallway. Behind it was a bedroom, and across the hall was a kitchen and a dining room. The rooms were of equal size except the bedroom, where part of the room had been partitioned into a bathroom accessed from the rear hall.

Although the living room and the bedroom looked as they must have a hundred years ago, the kitchen held modern appliances. There were cabinets below and over the sink and Janice opened one of the doors.

“There’s still some dishes and pans here,” she said, and stepped backward as a mouse jumped out of the cabinet. “Looks like I’ve inherited some livestock,” she said with a grimace.

Lance grinned, surprised that she’d wasn’t scared. His sister shrieked and headed for higher ground when she saw a mouse.

He turned one of the faucets on the sink. “No water, of course,” he said. “I suppose the plumbing was drained when John moved out of the house.”

As Janice’s eyes acclimated to the dark interior, a sense of discouragement swept over her. The carpets on the hardwood floors were threadbare. The upholstered furniture in the living room had been gnawed by vermin. Several layers of tattered wallpaper drooped from the ceiling and fluttered around the walls. Ragged curtains hung over the windows. Stimulated by a strong breeze wafting through a broken window, long strings of cobwebs swayed rhythmically, reminding Janice of puppets on a string.

Lance watched as Janice’s expressions changed from gloom to optimism as she passed from one room to another.

“If this isn’t a sorry mess,” she said once.

After they’d scanned the downstairs rooms, they paused beside a walnut garment tree in the front center hall.

Forcing herself to overlook the bad and recognize the positive, Janice touched the hall tree and said, “I’ve heard of these,” she said. “The hooks were for gentleman to hang their hats, and the mirror helped ladies take a last look at their appearance before they left the house.” She lifted the lid of a narrow bench and a film of dust flew into her face. “This box was used to hold outdoors shoes. Except for dust, it seems in good condition.”

“And it also served as a place to sit on while changing shoes,” Lance said.

“The house itself seems sturdy enough and the furniture is beautiful. I’d like to live here.”

“It will take a lot of hard work,” Lance said.

“I know. But I think it’s worth fixing up. Do you?”

Lance took his handkerchief and dusted a long deacon’s bench in the hallway. He motioned Janice to sit down and he sat beside her.

“Most of this furniture has an antique value, and with time, money and hard work, the house could be turned into a showplace,” he said slowly.

“I don’t know much about antiques, but I’m sure you’re right. When this house has been vacant and isolated for several years, why hasn’t someone stolen this stuff?”

“I told you that a lot of people around here think the house is haunted.”

Eyeing him to see if he was kidding her, she was surprised that he wore a serious expression. Since this was the first amusing thing she’d heard in days, she exploded into a deep, warm laugh. “That’s ridiculous! You don’t believe that, do you?”

Laughter erased some of the tension from Janice’s face, and her green eyes glowed like sunlight shining on ocean waves. Lance was delighted to see her face alive with merriment.

His lips twisted humorously. “If I did, I wouldn’t be sitting here. I didn’t say I believed the house was haunted, but it has that reputation. That may have kept people from stealing everything.”

“That’s my good fortune, I suppose.” Janice looked at her watch. “Let’s look upstairs so we can go back to town. I don’t want to impose on your sister to keep Brooke any longer.”

“She won’t mind,” Lance said, then stood and walked toward a door in the rear hall that must lead to the upstairs. The door was locked.

Disappointed, Janice said, “I’d hoped to see the whole place while we were here.”

“I could break down the door, but you’ll have enough repairs to make without me adding to the list. We can bring a skeleton key and go upstairs next time.”

Next time! Janice glanced at him curiously. Apparently, Lance’s interest in her home wasn’t to be a one-time event. He peered into the kitchen as they walked down the hall. “Let’s see where that leads,” he said, motioning to a small door to the right of the stove.

“It’s a pantry,” Janice said. “A lot of older houses have them.”

A few jars of green beans and some containers of jelly were on the shelves. Mutilated cartons of rice and flour had been riddled by mice or rats and the contents spilled on the floor. Lance opened another door that led to a side porch, where a door in the floor opened into a cellar. A damp, moldy scent met their nostrils when Lance lifted the door on squeaky hinges.

“I’ll check it out,” Lance said. He walked down a few steps and flashed the light around a small, dirt-floored room. “There’s a gas furnace down here,” he reported, “and a water pump. County water is available now so you won’t need the pump, but you will need a plumber to check the water lines.”




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/irene-brand/yuletide-peril/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.