LITMIR.BIZ

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beauty. The emerald stones in the socket of their eyes were too big to be real.

      When the driver rolled his window down, late spring warmth accompanied by freshly cut grass invaded the car. He keyed in a code that slid the gates apart. A camera, nestled amongst the foliage, craned its neck, following us in.

      I pulled a small mirror from my purse. Chestnut brown hair framed my tanned face. I had spent long hours helping Mama in the garden over this last week, listening to her hopes and dreams for me. She hoped I’d have more than a life working my fingers to the bone so a drunk could sit at home and vegetate on the couch all day. She wanted the fairytale for me, but those came from only hard work.

      Flipping the mirror closed, I shook my head in disgust at the circles under my golden brown eyes. No way to hide those.

      I knew that gate from somewhere. It’s curly cue design. I’d seen it.

      We rolled past it as something that couldn’t possibly be a memory flashed through my mind—the gate being swung out and held by two people dressed in period clothing as a white carriage passed between them. The image disappeared before it was there.

      As we lurched forward, the tree-lined drive blocked the view of the house. The car rolled over the old cobblestone edged by rows of pristine hedges. The car slowed to a crawl.

      Limos and extravagant sports cars were nose to bumper, their rims and expensive paint jobs sparkling in the summer sun.

      The temporary comfort of tinted windows dissolved.

      Though disguised in fine suits and almost ridiculously frivolous dresses and hats, the people traveled toward the house like an infestation of cockroaches toward a known source of food. They all flicked disapproving glances over their shoulders as the driver pulled my car beside them in the same direction.

      I sank deeper into the seat.

      The driver adjusted his mirror on me. “Don’t let them bother you. They’re a bunch of snobs I’ll be glad to see go when this whole fiasco is over.”

      Whoever took care of the grounds certainly did it with love. Every blade of grass had been intricately detailed with scissors, and the geometrically shaped flowerbeds set splashes of colors all over the front lawn.

      We rounded a final bend, and the house soared into the sky. From the side, it appeared to have wings. It stood four stories tall. Like the columns at the gate, chiseled stone covered the house. Each one meticulously placed.

      A staggering expanse of black framed windows covered the front and sides.

      A bay window jutted over the front entrance.

      The bright summer sun couldn’t penetrate the menacing deep black eyes of the house on the second, third, and fourth floors.

      The driver pulled the car beside the cobblestone walk, opened my door, and offered his hand.

      Out of nowhere, a little old man wobbled from behind the tall bushes on the left side of the property. The bowtie on his suit was starched to sharp edges that poked his double chin. He greeted me with a welcoming smile. Time had paved a roadmap of wrinkles across his brows and around his eyes.

      A young guy with dark jeans and a shirt that fit him too well came from the front door, bounded down the steps, and headed straight to my trunk. He flashed a mischievous smirk in my direction while he was behind the old man, but when he was in the old man’s view, he straightened into a more serious posture.

      “Take Miss Knowles’s things to her room. The master suite on the second floor.” The older man’s tone with the younger man was authoritative.

      “Wait, the master suite?” The bellboy’s brow lifted. He ran a nervous hand through his blond locks. He reminded me of a misplaced boy-band member.

      “As I said, the master suite on the second floor.” The older man nodded to the front entrance.

      “But no one has—”

      “I am fully aware of how often each room of the house has hosted company. Please do as I say. And hurry.” The older man glanced toward the back of the house and then to the front entrance again. Now more at ease, he turned his attention back to me. The elderly gentleman had a time-roughened voice. “Thomas Warren, head groundskeeper. Ava called me Thomas, so I hope you’ll do the same. Mr. Warren just reminds me how old I am.”

      “Allison Knowles.”

      “Glad to make your acquaintance.” He nodded politely, giving my hand a squeeze and returning it.

      “I guess I should say I’m sorry for your loss, but to be honest, I didn’t know the deceased, and I’m sure she didn’t know me.”

      “Oh, she knew you, my dear. You may have known nothing of her, but no price was too costly to make sure she left none of your secrets buried.” Thomas gave me quick little bow.

      “The last few family members could have scared the flies off a shit wagon. Looks like we finally lucked up,” the bellboy said with a country twang and a smirk. He gave me a shameless onceover and winked.

      “Dalton Anderson Cobb, mind your manners. I swear, you act like a family of gorillas raised you.” Thomas glared at Dalton.

      “Country born, country bred.” Dalton shrugged. He seemed harmless.

      Thomas cleared his throat and stiffly turned to me. “Since Ava’s death, everyone has slacked around here. Dalton is no exception. This place has been utter chaos.”

      As if on perfect cue, a crash came from the back of the house, and children’s laughter filled the air. Thomas’s handkerchief went to his brow, and he heaved out a labored sigh.

      “I pull my weight. To prove it”—Dalton turned to me—“Miss Knowles, if you need anything, day or night, let me know.”

      Thomas almost choked. He pointed to the trunk of the limo. “The luggage.”

      “Just trying to make her feel at home. You know. Showing some southern hospitality.” Dalton flicked an eyebrow at me from behind Thomas. His flirty smile might have worked with a multitude of screaming prepubescent teens, but I wasn’t game. I’d have to find a nice way to let him know if he continued to flirt.

      “Humph. I know your hospitality well. So does every other female employee here. Forgive his rudeness. Ava had a thing for taking in the local strays.”

      “I heard that,” Dalton called over his shoulder as he took more bags to a cart he’d pushed from the cement ramp at the front entrance.

      Jensen pulled the car around the circular driveway toward a group of outbuildings.

      Thomas turned back to me. In his best tour guide voice, he continued, “Now, my dear, let us focus on the front entrance of the house. Ava had guests delivered to the front door, but staff used the side entrance that leads from the garage you see nestled in the trees to your right.”

      The door was plain compared to the carved wood around the front entrance.

      “As you can see, Ava hated being showy about her money.” Thomas chuckled at his joke, then straightened.

      “So, I get the feeling she ran a tight ship?”

      “We’re still cleaning up beer cans from the party we threw when she took her last breath. She chewed people up and spit ‘em out. It was something to watch. I stayed out of her way till she keeled over. I knew the way of the beast.” Dalton winked at me and went on ahead of us, still speaking over his shoulder as he pushed the cart. “She loved to keep people on their toes. Even in her death, she leaves us with a little mystery. What made her choose lil ‘ol you to inherit all her earthly belongings?”

      I almost dropped my purse.

      Thomas’s mouth dropped into a horrified O. “That’s privileged information that should have been kept till the proper timing.”

      My voice faltered. “That’s impossible. This is clearly a case

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