“That is correct, sir.”
He looked around the large high-ceilinged room. The deeply polished wood peeping out from under a magnificent Persian carpet was probably the original flooring. Heavy sky-blue velvet curtains were pulled back from the tall narrow windows, and all the walls were wainscotted in glossy white paneling. The carved molding around the ceiling, fireplace, and doors was still intact and probably dated back to before the Revolutionary War. Even without the antique furnishings, the room was stunningly beautiful. He shook his head and asked, “Then why would he want to see it torn up for condos?”
“I couldn’t say, sir.”
Professional poker players showed more expression than Burrows did. His features stayed as formally blank as Jed had ever seen them. So much for trying to get an answer out of Burrows, he thought.
Once Burrows had left the room, Jed sipped his
coffee. It had a soothing aftertaste, and he realized there was an added warmth to the brew that spread down his throat and into his belly. He sipped again, trying to identify it. Whiskey! From its smoothness, he judged it was probably aged Irish whiskey. Leaning back on the plush sofa, he rolled a third sip around his tongue, letting the alcohol permeate his senses for a few moments. He swallowed and grinned, thinking that while the house symbolized wealth and elegance, Burrows made living in it luxurious. Managers of five-star hotels could have taken lessons from the man.
Sighing, he reached over and picked up the reports. Just after dinner, he’d taken over the room to read them yet again, hoping he’d find something to indicate a viable property elsewhere. He hadn’t found one—not yet—but he had found a puzzling little fact. If the figures were correct for the various developed properties the company had looked at, then Merriman had agreed to sell for a good deal less than the estate was worth. Jed knew he’d negotiated a very good price for the estate, but he’d never realized before just how good. He remembered how eager Merriman had seemed about the deal—almost gleeful—and how he’d insisted on a fast sale. Jed knew what he’d told his boss, Henry, had been true: Merriman would have gone even lower. Merriman had always been eccentric, but nobody had ever called him foolish. He wondered if the old man had baited a hook in a calculated maneuver guaranteed to reel in Atlantic. But why? And if he just wanted to get rid of the place, why deed it over to Rae? He
already had a buyer. There was no explanation for Merriman’s crazy actions, Jed admitted, except his finally going “ ’round the bend” and realizing it afterward.
Suddenly feeling more tired than before, he glanced down at his nearly empty cup and chuckled. Burrows certainly didn’t fool around when he decided someone ought to be in bed. He began stacking the reports into a neat pile, deciding to take yet another look at them tomorrow. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone had somehow been suckered by a crazy old man.
After returning the coffee tray to the kitchen, he slowly climbed the back stairs to the second floor. He stopped in front of the room Burrows had told him was Rae’s. The temptation to open the door and enter was overwhelming, but he steeled himself to continue down the hallway to the trophy room. He crept inside and discovered Michael had appropriated the bottom bunk he’d used the night before. The young boy was snuggled down under the quilt, sound asleep. He grinned at Mark and Randall who were sleeping in the two top bunks. Michael had probably lost the choice spots to his older brothers. After checking to make sure the tarantula hadn’t been let loose, Jed stripped off his clothes and crawled into the last available bed beneath Randall.
Burrows was right, he thought. The boys had been enthusiastic about the treasure hunt, and he was exhausted. They’d dragged him all over that damn park in a wild haphazard search for gold and jewels, and Rae had been worse than her nephews. He managed a weary smile as he remembered
how she’d climbed trees and pointed out likely spots for a pirates’ trove. The boys obviously adored their aunt. So did he. She’d been like a sprite, full of imagination and mischief, and more than ever like the Rae he remembered. When they all returned to the car to come back home, he noticed a smudge of dirt on her cheek and that she’d broken three nails, but she didn’t even seem to care. She’d hardly acted with the elegant coolness she’d shown the night before. Yet he found her even more beautiful. Her cheeks had been pink from the cool air, and her eyes shining with fun. It had taken an enormous amount of control to keep his distance from her all afternoon.
Once, though, he had seen her lose her joyful expression. They had penetrated the dense woods to the riverbank directly opposite the estate. He’d been admiring the peaceful picture the stately red brick mansion and its gracious surroundings made, when he’d turned to find Rae gazing at him with accusing eyes.
He knew now he was the one she didn’t trust—not with her home or her feelings. Her defenses might drop for a moment, but they always snapped back into place. The estate lay between them, an unsurmountable barrier. So far, he’d only managed to temporarily circumvent Henry from launching an all-out campaign for the property. There were many ways to put pressure on a reluctant seller, and Rae would be subjected to all of them unless he found some way to appease Henry.
Trying to rid himself of his disturbing thoughts, he rolled over, immediately banging his knee into
the wall. He smothered a curse at the too small bed, and tried to ignore the fact that there was a much larger, less lonely one down the hall. He doubted if it held the welcome he wanted. Still, the thought teased and tantalized him as he finally drifted off to sleep.…
He was in the middle of the park again, only it was covered with a frigid white mist. Naked, he ached from the cold as he trudged among the barely visible trees and bushes, his every movement causing him even more pain. He knew he was supposed to be looking for something, but he couldn’t remember what it was. Then a little girl stood before him. She began to grow until she turned into the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She was wearing a garment that was a wisp of nothing, and her slender body moved with the grace of a goddess. A light breeze lifted her midnight hair from her shoulders, and her green-gray eyes promised him the love and comfort he’d been searching for. Clumsily, he moved forward and covered her mouth with his cold lips. Her soft flesh warmed his hands, and he touched her everywhere—breasts, belly, legs—until he found the heated core of her. The kiss turned hot with her passion, and her body writhed urgently against his. Blood pounded into his loins, driven by the sensual fire he knew only she could create. Suddenly, she vanished from his arms, and all the park’s trees turned into condominiums, surrounding him in their horrible prison. He tried to break free, but everywhere he turned another concrete building hemmed him in. The woman reappeared, floating in
the mist beyond his reach. He silently cried out to her. She was above him now, looking so sad. Then she bent her head toward him, her lips parting to bestow a kiss. A light seemed to issue from her. It was dim at first, then it became brighter and brighter. It blinded him, its heat burning his face.…
“Jedidiah Waters! You have been called!” intoned a deep voice.
“No condos!” he shouted, bolting upright in bed. Young voices giggled, and he opened his eyes in bewilderment. The terrible bright light was shining directly in his face! He slapped it away. There was a clunk and a thump, and the light was gone. Nightmare over, he slumped in relief.
“Master Randall, if you please,” said the voice.
Confused that the voice hadn’t gone away with the light, Jed looked around. He couldn’t see a thing in the pitch black, but he heard someone moving about.
“Who is it? Who’s there?” he asked sharply.
“I am afraid we have awakened the gentleman too abruptly,” said the voice. “Terribly sorry, sir, but we must adhere to the ritual.”
“What ritual?” He swallowed at a horrible thought. “Is this hell?”
The young voices giggled again. They sounded suspiciously familiar. Shaking off the last of his sleep, he realized the voices belonged to Rae’s nephews. Huey, Dewey, and Louie, he thought furiously.
“Dammit, guys—”
The light was suddenly in his face again, and
the deep voice repeated, “Jedidiah Waters! You have been called!”
He blinked against the pain in his eyes. “Burrows? Is that you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What the hell are you doing?” he roared in outrage.
“Calling you to a meeting of the Barkeley Club, sir—”
“Geez, we thought you’d
never
go to sleep!”
“Master Mark!” Burrows said in reprimand. The direction of his voice shifted back to Jed. “You have been nominated, sir, and now you must answer the call.”
“I’m not answering anything except sleep, and get that damn light out of my face!”
Suddenly the light was pointing toward the floor. Jed rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the spots spinning inside them.
“Please,” Michael said, crawling into the bed next to him. “I nominated you to be in the club. You have to join.”
Jed lowered his hands and looked at him—or tried to. All he saw was a small dark lump.
“Please,” said Mark and Randall together.
“It is quite an honor Master Michael has bestowed on you, sir,” Burrows added.
Jed sighed in defeat. Between the “call” and his nightmare, he’d had the sleep scared out of him anyway. Condos and Rae. He shuddered. “Okay. What do I have to do?”
The boys cheered, and Burrows thrust something into his hands. “Put on this robe and slippers, sir.”
Getting out of bed, he fumbled around in an attempt to find the robe’s opening, then realized it was styled like a monk’s robe. Must be Merriman’s, he thought while pulling it over his head. He pushed his feet into the open-backed slippers Burrows had thoughtfully provided. His eyesight finally adjusted, and in the flashlight’s glow, he noted Burrows and the boys were dressed the same as he.
“I thought Halloween was still two weeks away,” he said in amusement.
“So it is, sir. Please follow us.”
“It’s only a little scary,” Michael said, taking his hand.
As he was led through the dark house, he decided that whatever the hell the Barkeley Club was, the meetings took place at a damned inconvenient time. His brain could barely function, and his body insisted he find the nearest bed and collapse onto it.
“Wait here, sir. Master Michael will return for you, when everything is ready,” Burrows said, opening a door that was tucked under the arch of the back stairs. The narrow staircase faded downward into what seemed like a black hole.
“Right,” Jed said in a flat voice.
He watched them eerily vanish one by one into the hole. He waited impatiently and was about to go back to bed, when Michael finally returned. Although the boy only motioned for him to follow, he saw that the youngster had a huge grin on his face. As he stumbled down the steep stairs and through the dank basement after his small friend, Jed decided he’d just walked into an Edgar Allan
Poe story—boys dressed in monks’ robes, flitting through an old mansion in the wee hours of the night, vanishing staircases. It was either Poe, or a Scooby-Doo cartoon.
He realized they’d reached their goal when they came to the far end of the basement. It was lit with candles, and a single cane chair faced a long table that was covered with a red cloth. Randall, Mark, and Rae sat behind the table. She wore a white wool robe, its hood framing her fragile features. Surprised and yet not surprised, Jed stared at her. She was beautiful and regal in the soft candlelight, and his erotic dream came back in full force.
Burrows appeared from a darkened corner and banged a long staff on the concrete floor. “Sit and be judged worthy, Jedidiah Waters.”
Jed grinned at the rare use of his given name and sat in the cane chair. He grinned even more widely at the lovely judge he faced.
“Michael Barkeley, present your evidence.”
The little boy stepped in front of the table. “Jed … knows all about pirates … and he helped with the treasure hunt,” Michael said hesitantly, then turned and looked unhappily at his nominee, obviously unable to think of anything else.
“You forgot that he’s kidnapped,” Mark whispered loudly.
“Oh, and he’s kidnapped!”
“And he talks in his sleep!” Randall added in a low voice.
“And he talks in his sleep,” Michael echoed.
Jed wondered frantically what the boys might have overheard. The dream had been very vivid.
“And he fed my Stilton cheese to the dogs.” This contribution came from Burrows, who frowned at him.
“Yeah! He fed the cheese to the dogs, and Burrows didn’t even spank him for it.”
The butler loudly cleared his throat, and Jed turned his face away to keep from laughing.
“And he’s my friend,” Michael said proudly before lapsing into silence.
“All good reasons, Master Barkeley,” Rae said, smiling at him. “But he must also pass the test of the Barkeleys. Lord Chamberlain, blindfold him.”
“Yes, Grand Master.”
Burrows produced a black scarf from his sleeve and tied it around Jed’s eyes. He couldn’t see through the silk, but he heard a lot of giggling and scuffling. Finally, warm feminine hands encircled one of his and guided it into a bowl containing something cool and squishy. He realized he was supposed to identify it. Fortunately, he’d played this as a kid and knew the answer.
“It’s Jell-O.”
The bowl was whisked away and another presented. He had no trouble with the spaghetti, mud, pine cone, and ice cream, although he felt as if he were back in his dream when his fingers ached from being thrust into the cold dessert. All the while Rae’s hands covered his, her slender fingers almost caressing as they moved his hand into each bowl. Finally, his hand was wiped clean and turned palm upward. Something warm and sticky yet hairy, was placed into it. For the first time, he had no idea what it could be.
Then it began to move.
“It’s Harvey,” he said in a hoarse voice, willing himself not to flinch as two of the spider’s legs began to inspect his thumb.