The Ghosts of Ravencrest (The Ravencrest Saga Book 1) (23 page)

Her mouth watered as she bent and picked up the fruit, turning it in her hand. A jagged hole teemed with squirming maggots. Stifling a yelp, she dropped the rotten persimmon and brushed a couple of wiggling white larvae off her hand, then walked quickly away.
 

The sun was bright, the fog a bare mist now, and she approached the trees edging the rear garden where she’d seen the man digging. As she walked, her mother’s ringtone sounded, then a text came in from Randi. Having resolved not to let Momma or her ex-roommate run her life anymore, Belinda turned off the phone without acknowledging either.
 

She passed the garden nearest her window, admiring the clutch of tall white statues. Out of the five, she recognized Zeus, Bacchus, Persephone, and Demeter. She’d look up the fifth later. She continued on until she arrived at the garden where she’d seen the man digging. There were no signs of disturbance, but it was hard to tell - its edges were so well and recently tilled.
But he was
past
the garden
.
By the trees.
She glanced up at statues of Athena and Apollo. “Did you see anything?”
 

If they had, the god and goddess weren’t talking, and Belinda stepped past their garden into the woods behind it. The oak and pine were so thick that little sun hit the woodland floor, and she entered the shadows with caution. The ground was covered with pine needles.
 

Belinda’s uneasiness grew; she felt like she was being watched, but the forest was still and silent except for occasional birdsong. She focused on the woodland floor and finally spotted a sprinkling of fresh soil on top of some of the pine needle carpet. Bending, she swept the needles to the side and saw that, indeed, the ground had been disturbed.

Leaves crunched behind her and she whirled, stifling a scream. Nothing moved. She scanned the trees until her eyes came to rest on something glinting behind the lacy foliage of a juniper. She stared hard. Two glints, like eyes.
No, that can’t be. You definitely need to talk to Dr. Akin.

The eyes blinked.
 

Belinda gasped, whirled, and ran for the house.

Spelling Dr. Akin

“Yes, Dr. Akin. I’m having nightmares and this morning, I imagined I saw eyes watching me in the forest. I think I need some help with my nerves.”

Cordelia Heller stood on the other side of the open door to the main parlor, listening as dear Dr. Akin obviously soothed Belinda over the house phone.
 

“Yes, Doctor, I’d love to come in today. Yes, 4:30. Thank you so much. I understand why you need to see me before prescribing.”
 

The governess had the audacity to emit a tiny flirtatious giggle. “I look forward to seeing you, as well. Goodbye and thank you
so
much!” The receiver was replaced with a
click
.
Little whore.
Cordelia stepped into the shadows as Belinda walked past, utterly oblivious. She waited for the girl to go upstairs, then returned to her office to make her own call to the not-so-good doctor.
 

***

“Enter.” Cordelia sat at her black desk in her office.

Richard Akin, handsome, tall, and sure of himself, locked the door behind him. He was a quick study that way, but not quick enough. “I need to hurry back - I’ve left Dr. Johnson with both our patients. What did you need to see me about so urgently, Mrs. H?”

Cordelia glared at him.

“I mean, Mrs. Heller,” he said, trying to work magic with his wavy auburn hair and green eyes.

She stood. In the time he’d taken to arrive at Ravencrest, she’d changed into a short navy skirt, black nylons and red pumps. She leaned against the edge of her desk and began unbuttoning her blue suit jacket.
 

Akin’s eyes followed her moves. He swallowed.

Cordelia pulled her jacket open. She wore nothing beneath it. “In a hurry, are you?”

“Well, yes, but, I ...” he cleared his throat, his gaze fixed to her breasts.

“Then I guess you’d better please me fast, Doctor.” She reached for one of the Champagne glasses at the edge of the table, dipped a finger into it and swirled the liquid within. “Dom Perignon,” she said. “Your favorite.”

“I’m driving.”

“Surely you can have one glass.”
 

“Well, I suppose one wouldn’t hurt.”
 

There were two things Dr. Richard Akin couldn’t resist; good Champagne and good pussy. Put them together and Cordelia knew he’d succumb to her. “They say it improves the taste of certain fruits.” She handed him the glass, took the other one for herself and leaned back against her desk. “Cheers.”
 

Akin took the Champagne and moved closer. “Cheers,” he repeated. “I don’t see any fruit.”

Cordelia tossed her head back and laughed, deep and throaty. “Look again, Doctor. Look very, very closely.” She separated her knees a little, giving him a view of what she wore beneath her skirt: nothing.

“Oh, I see,” he said, his eyebrows lifting as he grinned.
 

“Let’s find out if it’s true, shall we?”

Akin’s tongue darted across his lips. He tossed back the Champagne in one gulp, then buried his face between her legs.

Unfortunately, she’d added a bit too much of her special belladonna blend to the Dom Perignon, because within just a few minutes, Dr. Akin’s tongue went limp and he fell sideways, landing in a heap on the floor.

“Well,” said Cordelia, standing and pulling her skirt down. “You never were good at finishing a job, Doctor.” She stepped to the other side of her desk and pulled open the bottom drawer. From it, she took her grimoire and an athame. She plunked the hefty book onto the desk. “So many choices,” she said, turning the ratty, fragile pages.
 

At last she happened upon something that caught her eye. She looked at the large unconscious man on the floor and back to the illustration on the page. She couldn’t suppress a good hard laugh. “Brilliant!” she said. “It will be brilliant.”

Annoyances

“Miss Moorland, would you come down to my office, please?”

Belinda was sorry she’d answered the phone. It was after three now and she was getting ready to go to Dr. Akin’s office. She felt good. She’d spent several hours setting up her new schoolroom and ordering textbooks, and nothing strange had happened the entire time. Nothing had frightened or even startled her, and knowing she was about to talk to the doctor made her feel even calmer. But now Mrs. Heller’s summons had interfered.
Go see her and get to your appointment. She holds no power over you.

Belinda glanced in the wall of mirrors once more, and satisfied with her outfit - black jeans and a neat pin-striped short-sleeved blouse - she grabbed her handbag and slipped it over her shoulder then headed downstairs. Immediately, she ran into Grant, who was on the phone. She nodded at him.
 

“I’m on hold,” he told her. “How are you feeling today?”

“Good. I’m just going to see Dr. Akin about getting something to help me sleep.”

He nodded and smiled. “Later we will finish our talk. I promise.”

She opened her mouth to agree, but he held a finger up and spoke into the phone. “Yes, I need an exterminator to come up to Ravencrest.” He paused, then said, “Rats.”

Belinda shuddered then waved and headed for Heller’s stark black and white office.

“Come,” the woman called in answer to Belinda’s knock.
 

She opened the door. “Mrs. Heller.”

Heller smiled redly at her and it wasn’t pretty. The platinum-haired woman was at her desk, legs up, ankles crossed. Her bright red stilettos reflected the ceiling light in their shine. Beyond the shoes, all Belinda saw were legs encased in black nylons and a navy jacket buttoned to her neck. The look disturbed her in a way she couldn’t quite fathom.
 

“Shut the door and come closer, Miss Moorland.” Another hideous grin. “I won’t bite, I assure you.”

That’s how a shark looks at its dinner.
“Yes, ma’am.”

“Closer, dear. I’m doing my Kegels and I don’t want to sit up.”

“Excuse me?”

“Surely you know what Kegels are.”

“I, uh … Yes. I do.”

“Good. Come closer. I have something for you.”

Belinda stepped to the desk and saw black garters and, above them, Mrs. Heller’s white thighs disappearing into a severely rucked up skirt. “What, uh, what did you want to see me about?”

“You had an appointment with Dr. Akin at four o’clock?”

“How did you know that?” Belinda had told no one except Grant.

“They phoned and cancelled. The doctor had an emergency.”

“Why would they phone you?”

“They phoned our house number. You must have called the office from that, rather than your cell.”

“Why didn’t you call me to the phone?”
 

“I didn’t know where you were.”

“You had no trouble calling my cell just now.”

“Pish posh. I took your damned message, girl.” The smile slipped, but Heller carved it back into place. “Open my top desk drawer. Yes, that one.”

Belinda kept her eyes on the drawer, afraid of what she might spot between Heller’s legs.
Teeth
, she guessed.

“See the bottle? Take it.”

Belinda took a small amber prescription bottle from the drawer and looked at it.
 

“Dr. Johnson called in a prescription for you and had it sent over. Wasn’t that kind of him?” Heller grunted, her jaw flexing. She was obviously deep in her Kegels. “Having trouble sleeping, Belinda?”

“Just some nightmares.”

“Well I’m sure those pills will do the trick.”

“Mrs. Heller?”

“You should go for a swim or a run. Or masturbate. That will help you sleep.” She paused. “I saw you taking a brisk walk this morning.”

“You did?”
 

“You were coming back from the forest in an awful hurry.” Another obscene smile. That’s good. Gets your blood pumping.”
 

Belinda nodded. “Mrs. Heller?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you have my pills?”

“Oh, darling, the help. You can’t trust the help with such things. And you’re welcome. Now run along.”
 

“Thank you,” Belinda forced out the words, then turned on her heel and closed the door behind her. She thought she would go upstairs and change, then do just what Heller had suggested - take a brisk walk and enjoy the day.

“Belinda!” Grant called.

She turned around at the foot of the stairs. “Grant.”

“Not keeping your appointment?”

She told him about Heller and flashed the bottle.

“Be careful with those,” he said. “If Mrs. Heller had her hands on them, I’d wonder if they’re really what the doctor prescribed.”

“Truly?”

He chuckled. “I’m joking, but… Truth in jest, perhaps. I’d take the pills out and Google them and make sure she hasn’t switched them out with roofies. And don’t forget, I have chamomile tea that’s guaranteed to help you rest.”
 

“Thank you. Can we talk about the little girl? Or is this not the time?”

“I’m sorry, no.” He paused. “With a little luck, we may be able to finish our chat tomorrow.”

Belinda’s cell rang. She checked it and rolled her eyes.

“Your mother?” Grant asked.

“Randi. The roommate. Ex-roommate.”

“Why don’t you answer?”

“I’ve resolved that neither one of them can tell me what to do anymore.”

The rings ended but began again before she could re-pocket the phone.

“Why don’t you answer and tell her to stop calling?”

Belinda looked from Grant to the cell. “Really?”

“Best to face her. Get it over with.”

Screwing up her courage, Belinda opened the phone and put it on speaker so Grant could hear - she was afraid she’d say something wimpy if he didn’t witness it. “Hello.”

“Don’t sound so friendly, Lindy!” came Randi Tucker’s fat-sounding voice.
 

“I told you never to call me that, I hate it.” Belinda looked at Grant. He gave her a wink.

“It just means I love you, Lindy.” Randi paused. “And I miss you. I want to see you! So does your mom.”

“That’s impossible.” Belinda looked at Grant. Her heart was beating way too fast and she told herself to calm down.

“Please let me come and see you! I miss you so much.”

“I’m too busy, Randi. It’s not possible. I-”

“I know. You have a big important job and you’re too good for me now, right?” Randi snorted and chuckled, sounding way too much like Momma. “Just kidding.”

She’s not kidding
Belinda mouthed to Grant.
 

“You’re breaking your mother’s heart. She says you never answer her calls or texts and I believe her because you never answer mine, either.”

Belinda didn’t know what to say. Grant raised his eyebrows and pointed at himself. She nodded.

“Belinda, dearheart,” Grant said, his English accent the strongest she’d ever heard, “It’s tea time.”

Suppressing a giggle, Belinda said, “I must be going,” ended the call and smiled at the butler. “Thank you, Grant.”

“Any time. You can’t let fear of confrontation hold you hostage, sweetheart.”

Heading upstairs, she felt happier. Grant was right: She hadn’t done much, but at least she had faced her enemy. And she knew she could do it again, but right now, it was time for a long walk that would give her an appetite for dinner.

The Harlequin

He wasn’t quite sure who he was, or where he was. The witch had seen to that and that was the only thing he was sure of at all, at least in the moments of clarity that came crashing in on him every so often. The trouble was, they didn’t last long enough, but were just short thoughts, brief visions, so quick he couldn’t fully grasp them, let alone complete them.

He was in a vast array of tunnels and vents, very dark in places and filled with slatted light in others. He scuttled toward one on his short deformed legs and settled himself in dust that made him sneeze as it blew motes that almost twinkled in the light from beyond the slats. He squinched his eyes down and peered into an empty room. A dining room. He could see chair and table legs, blue carpeting dappled with sunlight. He’d never seen this room before, but he knew he was somewhere familiar. Clarity came.
This is Ravencrest! I’m in the walls of Ravencrest.
And fled.
Where am I where am I where am I?