Читать книгу Yuletide Peril - Irene Brand - Страница 12

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.”