“There’s nothing here,” Ben said forty-five minutes later.
The place was abandoned—just as it had looked from the outside.
They’d trudged through the knee-deep snow to the mansion’s expansive front porch, then circled around the back, soaking their jeans from midthigh down in the process, until they’d found a side door curiously unlocked. It had given them entry into a narrow passageway with a few steps that led up to the main floor. “Servants’ entrance,” Ben said as he pushed his way through.
The place smelled old, moldy, and unhealthy. Trash was strewn about. It was obvious squatters had been here, taking advantage of the old building as shelter and leaving their detritus behind. Ben and Candy had searched the place cautiously, thinking someone might still be here, but the place was empty—and without heat. The cold seemed to come out of the walls, as if the weather had seeped into the building’s very bones.
Remembering a discovery in another old house, though one not nearly as grand as this, Candy said, “Maybe there’s a hidden room, or passage or alcove—someplace where documents might be hidden.”
But if there was such a place in this old mansion, they did not find it this day.
Ben looked eminently disappointed as they arrived back on the first floor after checking the upstairs bedrooms. “I was hoping we’d find something,” he said, “but if this old house is still keeping secrets, she’s not telling us.”
Candy checked her watch again. It was just past eleven. Preston Smith—or whoever had posted that message to her—had never showed.
As if reading Candy’s thoughts, Ben said, “You know, I did a quick Internet search on Preston Smith’s name last night, after you sent me that message. I found a few things about him, but most seemed recent—within the past six months or so.”
Candy nodded. She’d found the same thing. “Whatever’s going on,” she said in a resigned tone, “we’re not going to find the answers here.”
Ben made a quick turnaround, looking out through the windows in various directions. “There are a few more buildings outside. I’ll go have a look. Want to come along?”
Candy studied the piles of snow outside and then looked down at her still-wet jeans, which had her shivering. “No thanks. I’ll check upstairs again. Just swing back and get me when you’re ready to go.”
He told her he would, and walked back toward the rear of the building, to access the servants’ entrance through the kitchen.
Candy was alone.
The house creaked around her. Outside, a frozen branch banged against a window, driven by a sudden gust of wind. She thought she heard a low moan, somewhere in the bowels of the house. And then… a footstep.
It seemed to have come from one of the rooms off to her right.
She heard a door close somewhere behind her.
She twisted around. “Ben?”
“Ben seems to be occupied at the moment,” another voice said. “Which is just as well. You and I, we need to have a little talk.”
Candy froze. She knew the voice. She’d heard it before.
Preston Smith stepped out of the shadows near her. “Hello, Ms. Holliday. We meet again.”