Crowned and Moldering

I glared back at him. There was no way I would allow that spooky excuse for a counselor to stare at Mac’s niece with such animosity. And I was worried for Mr. Jones, too. I wondered if Dain made a habit of staring at Mr. Jones like that. Finally Dain gave a scornful sniff and skulked off, leaving me to wonder what was wrong with his mind.

Was he jealous that the students liked Mr. Jones? I certainly hoped he didn’t intend to “counsel” Callie anytime soon.

I glanced back and realized that Mr. Jones and Callie hadn’t even noticed Dismal was watching them. Brad Jones was so in tune with his students, but I wondered if he had ever noticed the counselor staring at him from across the hall.

By the time I got to my truck, I was feeling antsy and out of sorts and not ready to call it a day. I was worried about Callie because of that look I’d seen on Dismal’s face. The man was like a cautionary tale about the scary neighbor down the street whose house was always dark and whose yard was covered in dead plants and trees. Your parents always warned you not to venture too close. . . .

And there went my imagination again. But, honestly, how creepy was it that he was standing there glaring at Mr. Jones and Callie? Very creepy, indeed! High school seemed to be even more of a soap opera than I remembered. As for Dismal, it was hard to shake off the miasma that seemed to follow him around like a dark cloud and envelop everyone else in the vicinity.

I stopped at a red light and glanced over at the passenger’s seat. There was my tablet with my list of things to do. And that reminded me of the one thing I hadn’t done. I’d promised Carla I’d order supplies for the dumbwaiter tonight, but I’d completely forgotten to get the measurements I needed.

I made a U-turn and drove the short distance out to the lighthouse mansion. Despite its many twists and turns and wide curves, the three-mile drive north relaxed me and took my mind off of all the people who had been in my face lately. Like Mr. Dain and Cliff and Whitney. Although, to be fair, I had been in Cliff’s face as much or more than he’d been in mine, only because he seemed just as happy to stab you in the back as face you head-on.

Since I was wearing my Bluetooth, I gave Mac a quick call to let him know I’d seen Callie briefly. I didn’t mention Dismal Dain’s odd presence in the hall.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“I’m driving out to the mansion to get a few measurements. Then I’m stopping at the hardware store to pick up some things.”

“Any chance we can have di

“I am very fond of red sauce, as you know.”

I could almost hear him gri

“Oh.” I was surprised and happy and bashful all of a sudden. “Well, likewise.”

He chuckled and the sound was amazingly intimate. “Be careful out there, Irish. Hurry home.”

“Okay.” I disco

I turned onto Old Lighthouse Road and bumped along over the potholes and cracks for a quarter of a mile until I reached the big house at the end of the road. There were still a few cars parked over by the massive, towering lighthouse, so I figured it was still open for business a while longer. Perhaps some tourists were up at the top, enjoying the sunset. I envied them.

Standing outside of my truck, I breathed the sea air and let my gaze sweep across the water. A few sailboats skimmed the surface, but the water was turning choppy, with white froth slapping into the air. I heard the waves pounding at the rocks beyond the lighthouse and it sounded like a heartbeat, with its comforting, steady rhythm.

For some reason, the air here felt cleaner than in town, even though my house was only a few blocks from the shore. Maybe it was the fact that there were no stores and streets in the way. Out here, there was nothing standing between me and the immense ocean.

I crossed the wide, scruffy lawn and unlocked the door. It was getting dark, and I flipped on a few lights as I made my way back to the kitchen to examine the dumbwaiter. The counters were gone, so I set my tablet and purse on the floor and pulled out my pocket tape measure.

As I measured the space and made a list of the hardware we would have to replace, I was careful not to look down into the basement below. It still gave me chills to think of Lily’s bones lying there. Instead I forced myself to study and admire the interior design of the dumbwaiter. I loved quirky Victorian contraptions like those, and Mac’s mansion was filled with them. I was determined to renovate this house so beautifully that Mac would never co

Being Mac, though, he would clearly relish those very things I was trying to gloss over.

I leaned farther into the dumbwaiter shaft to measure the panel on the far side of the opening. I froze when I thought I heard something.

I pulled my head out of the chamber and the sound disappeared. I wondered if I had imagined it.

I stuck my head back inside the shaft and heard it again. Something was scraping against an interior wall of the house. Was it being amplified inside the dumbwaiter?

“Oh, God.” I pulled out and stood up straight. I couldn’t hear anything out here, so I poked my head back into the dumbwaiter shaft and heard it again.

Darn it, why had I come back here alone? Why weren’t any of my crew working late today? I was suddenly leery of being in a place I’d known my whole life. And I didn’t like the feeling.

Had a new family of rodents moved into the house? I trembled at the thought. Then again, maybe it was only a tree branch brushing against the outside wall or the roof.

I stood up straight and tried very carefully to hear the sound again. But there was nothing. I heard it only inside the dumbwaiter, so I stuck my head inside the thing again. And now I could hear the distinct murmur of a human voice.

I wasn’t alone in the house.

More shivers flitted and leaped over every inch of my skin, covering me from the top of my head to my ankles. Truly, I could feel my ankles shaking. I had chills on top of the shivers, and now I had a choice of ru

If anyone had been watching me, I knew what they’d be thinking: I could also call the police. But if I dragged Eric out here for nothing, I’d look crazier than he already thought I was.

But if I didn’t drag Eric out here and something happened . . .

I compromised and sent a text to let him know where I was and that I was checking out some odd noises. He could make the next move.

I had already run screaming out of the house once before when I saw that tiny rat a while ago, so call me cuckoo, but I was determined not to leave until I found out what was going on. I wasn’t sure if the noises had come from upstairs or from the basement, but I felt safer checking upstairs first.

I tiptoed across the foyer and quietly climbed the stairs, unsure if the talking had come from the second floor or the attic. It had to be the second floor, I reasoned, because I really didn’t want to go all the way up to the attic. That made a perfect kind of sense to me. Didn’t it?

As I got closer to the top of the stairs I could hear the mumbled words growing louder. Prepared to run at any second, I took a tentative step onto the second-floor landing and was shocked to see someone down the hall by the laundry chute.

“Aldous?”

The old man jolted, then turned and gri