The Restoration Page 7

  Gertrude smirked. “Years of experience.”

  A long, low moan echoed through the room. Terri froze. It was an unearthly sound, but she instantly knew it was not air in the pipes. Rather than seem spooked, Gertrude brightened.

  “I’d almost forgotten. He can eavesdrop on anything we say when we’re in this room. He’s probably listened to our entire conversation.”

  Before Terri could ask who she was talking about, the woman had moved to the speaking tube and was cooing into it. “Hullo, Niles. I’m back for a visit. See, I told you I would never abandon you.”

  Another moan. This time, the pitch rose at the end, turning it into more of a wail. She might be going insane, but Terri could have sworn she heard someone crying.

  “Don’t cry, Niles. Of course I still love you. Your mean old sister sent me away. I had no choice.” She looked over at Terri and winked. “But I have a feeling I’ll be back.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Is Niles a ghost, Mom?”

  “Huh?” Terri had been so lost in thought that she’d forgotten her daughter was there. The Hamburger Helper she’d made for dinner sat mostly untouched on her plate. It was awkward to eat without a table, in any case. Following Gertrude’s visit, Terri had made the executive decision to move their meals into the parlor. To protect the fine furniture, they sat on the slip covers and balanced their plates on their laps. She was thankful it was early enough that light still streamed through the window. After dusk, the sheet-covered furniture looming over them would feel ominous.

  There was no way she’d feel comfortable in the kitchen again. Even making a meal in there had been nerve-racking, but fortunately, the speaking tube had remained silent.

  “I said, is Niles a ghost? Like, for real?”

  “I think so.” As bizarre as the situation was, she had to accept it. While there was a possibility that a living boy had found the world’s best hiding place in this house, she’d heard Dallas’s conversation and seen the aftermath of Niles’s rampage. Either she believed in ghosts, or believed her own daughter was insane. “Does that bother you?”

  Part of her wanted Dallas to say it did, to beg her to quit. It would have been a welcome excuse, although it wouldn’t have done their finances any favors. She was willing to move in with her mother again, if that’s what it took to get back on her feet. Anything was better than her daughter feeling unsafe.

  “Not really, I guess. It’s kind of cool. I never talked to a ghost before.”

  Damn. “You don’t find it scary?”

  Dallas thought for a moment, and then shook her head. “No, only when he gets upset. But that happened because I was telling him to go away. I won’t say that anymore. Now that you know he isn’t dangerous, I can go back to being his friend.”

  But I don’t know that. If Niles could destroy his room, what could he do to her daughter? “I think you should keep your distance as much as possible. I want you to choose another room to sleep in.”

  She’d expected a pout, but perhaps last night’s episode had bothered Dallas more than the girl had let on. “Okay.”

  “When Niles talks to you, what does he say?”

  “Not much of anything, really. He’s bossy. He kept pressuring me to find his things and put them back where they belonged. Can’t we leave them there, Mom, just while we’re living here? Otherwise, he’ll never shut up about it.”

  Terri had been eager to pack everything associated with Niles away in a box and hide it in the far reaches of a closet, but if leaving it out meant less harassment for her daughter, what was the harm? “As long as you promise not to touch anything.”

  “I think it’s too late for that, Mom. Don’t you remember what he did last night? He trashed everything.”

  With a sinking heart, Terri remembered what she’d been trying to forget. Someone had to clean up the mess in Niles’s room, and that someone was going to be her. No way she’d let Dallas near it.

  “Who was that woman today?”

  “Oh, that was Gertrude Phillips. She used to work here.”

  “Is she going to come live with us?”

  “No, why? Did she tell you she was?” If she had, Vandermere’s ex-employee was even more unstable than Terri had thought. So much for the weekly visits.

  “No, not exactly. When she left the house, she stopped to compliment me on how I was fixing up the garden. Niles had told me she wanted to stay with us, so I asked her.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She winked at me and said, ‘Ask your mother.’ She’s not, is she?”

  Terri’s fear turned to anger. “No, she’s not.” Whatever Gertrude’s obsession was with the house, she wanted no part of it. For all Terri knew, everything she’d said was a product of her own delusions. There was absolutely no proof that Niles and Emma had been murdered. If there were, surely Gertrude would have gone to the police as soon as she was fired.

  The house phone rang, making them both jump. It sounded unusually loud in the quiet heaviness of Glenvale. Terri hurried to answer, as it was an old rotary-dial model that didn’t have voice mail.

  “Hello?”

  “I heard you had a visitor today.” The voice was cold, female, and more than a little accusatory.

  Ugh. The last person in the world she wanted to talk to, aside from Gertrude. “Yes, I was going to call you about that. We had an incident here last night, and I wanted to make sure everything—”

  Vandermere cut her off. “I’m not talking about the police, Ms. Foxworth. As you may recall, I’m the one who told you to contact them in the first place. I’m glad to see you’re taking my advice in some regard.”

  “I’m sorry, if you don’t mean the police, I’m not sure I understand—”

  “Oh, we’re going to play games, are we?” The fury in her employer’s voice was unexpected. “I didn’t realize you were a game player.”

  “I’m not. But I—”

  “Please drop this silly charade, Ms. Foxworth. We both know I’m referring to my lovely former employee, Gertie Phillips.”

  Terri’s cheeks grew hot. Damn that woman. Gertrude had known Vandermere had eyes on the back of her head, and she’d taken it upon herself to come here and jeopardize Terri’s job anyway. “But isn’t she still welcome here?” she asked, her instinct for self-preservation kicking in. “Didn’t you tell me she was laid off because of the economy?”

  “You may be a wonderful restorer, but you’re no actress. I’m sure she told you about my little white lie during her visit.”

  “She did, but what I don’t understand is the reason for it. If you don’t want her on the property, why didn’t you tell me?”

  Vandermere sighed. “I have no time or inclination for petty gossip. I thought I was being kind. I also thought she’d have the decency to stay away from the house while you were working there. I am one hundred years old, Ms. Foxworth – did you know that? And yet, people never fail to surprise – or disappoint – me.”

  A hundred years old. She had assumed her employer was at least twenty years younger. It didn’t seem possible for Vandermere to be that age and in such good shape. Against her misgivings, she decided to trust her. “She had a rather disturbing story. I have to admit it unnerved me.”

  “Was it that outrageous theory she came up with about my father killing my brother?”

  Another shock. Terri had never imagined Vandermere would know. Perhaps Gertrude was right, and the older woman didn’t miss anything that went on in this house. But how was that possible? Bugs? Any listening device would be disturbed, and most likely destroyed, during the extensive restoration. She would most definitely find it. “Yes, and your sister.”

  “Oh, she’s made it even more ludicrous now. Lovely. As if murdering one child wasn’t enough.” Vandermere didn’t sound angry, or even mildly concerned, which filled Terri with relief. Surely
if there was any truth to Gertrude’s theory, she’d have been desperate to keep it a secret.

  “So it’s not true.”

  “Of course it’s not true. I’m going to be frank. Miss Phillips has mental issues. She appeared to be fine when I hired her. In fact, I’d wager she was more than fine. She was a model employee. But she became obsessed with the house. I’d find her talking to the walls, and listening as if someone was speaking back.”

  Terri thought of the eerie episode with the speaking tube. Someone had been speaking back – or had they? Come to think of it, she’d never actually heard anything more than moans coming back through the tube, but Gertrude had responded to them as if she were having a conversation. At the time, she’d thought the woman had the ability to understand Niles, but now there was another explanation. One that was much more probable.

  “She did that today, only she used the speaking tube.”

  “That dreadful speaking tube will be the death of me. Whenever the wind blows, it makes this ghastly moaning sound. Gertie was convinced someone was sending her messages from beyond the grave. If it wasn’t considered such a quaint feature now, I’d ask you to get rid of it.”

  “I might be able to stop it from moaning.” Terri wasn’t sure how wind was reaching an internal structure, but whatever was causing the noise could most likely be fixed.

  “Would you? That would be delightful. Perhaps it will help preserve the sanity of my future employees.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Then you wish to continue working at Glenvale?”

  The question took Terri aback. “I do, but it sounded like you wanted to fire me.”

  Vandermere chuckled. “Not at all. You have a good head on your shoulders. You had no reason to think Miss Phillips wasn’t welcome on the property. You did nothing wrong. I should have been more honest about my dealings with her.”

  Whew. “There is something else.” Might as well get everything over with at once.

  “Yes?”

  “Well, as I’d mentioned, I called the police last night. Someone trashed your brother’s room, and I was afraid there might still be an intruder in the house.”

  “What do you mean by ‘trashed’, exactly? What was the extent of the damage?”

  “I was about to go set things to rights when you called, but it looks like Niles’s model planes had been thrown around and some pages torn out of his books. Some of the planes and games may have been damaged.”

  “I must admit I’m confused. That room was left empty, except for a few pieces of old furniture. His models and books were in storage.”

  Damn. “I’m sorry, Miss Vandermere, but my daughter found them. She was taken with the idea of putting the room back the way it had been when Niles was using it, but she didn’t touch anything other than that. I made sure of it. I know how valuable those items are.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that. I hardly think the loss of a few old models and books is going to destroy the family fortune.”

  Of course. How could she have been so silly? If Niles’s belongings meant anything to his sister, it was sentimental value, not monetary. For Terri and her daughter, the money that could have been earned by selling them would have made a substantial difference, but for Miss Vandermere, not so much.

  “Anyway, I’m very sorry about what happened. I should have made my daughter put them back. But it is upsetting that someone broke in here and destroyed them.”

  “I believe you met your intruder today, Ms. Foxworth. You’ll be fine.”

  “You mean…you think Gertrude?”

  “Yes, I think Gertrude. Who else would trouble themselves with a young man’s playthings? For all her obsession with Glenvale, it paled in comparison to her obsession with my brother.”

  “But why would she destroy his belongings if she cared for him?” As strange as the woman had been, it had been obvious that she did care for Niles Vandermere. Terri tried to imagine Gertrude going on a rampage and tearing up the boy’s books, but she couldn’t. Vandermere may claim that she was forever surprised by people, but Terri believed she was a good judge of character. Gertrude might have some outlandish theories, but she wasn’t capable of the destruction in Niles’s room.

  “Do you know what it’s like to be mad and suffer from delusions?” Clearly not expecting an answer, Vandermere continued. “Nor do I. Who knows what was going on in that mind of hers when she did it? Perhaps she was furious that someone else had handled Niles’s things. She was quite protective of them.”

  That made sense, she supposed, as much as any of this did. What a strange thing to be obsessed about, but perhaps Gertrude desperately wanted children, and didn’t – or couldn’t – have any. She’d witnessed the desire for a child turn other women a bit squirrelly.

  Terri wanted to ask about the possibility of a ghost. Even if Gertrude were responsible for the disaster in Niles’s room, it didn’t explain her daughter’s experience of seeing and talking to a young man in old-fashioned clothes. But she didn’t dare. If she mentioned it, it would lead to another lecture about overactive imaginations, and Vandermere might suggest Dallas was ‘mad’ too. That conversion wouldn’t end well.

  “I’ll do my best to salvage what I can. Hopefully there’s not too much damage.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that, but please don’t spend too much time on it. The restoration is more important. For my part, I’ll send the police around to pay Miss Phillips a visit, and make sure she hasn’t acquired another key.”

  “When she came here this afternoon, I had to let her in. She said you’d taken her key – that’s why she let me know she’d been fired.”

  Vandermere was silent for a moment. “That’s good to know. Thank you. Still, it’s an old house and she knew it well. She may have found another way in.”

  * * *

  It felt like the door stared back at her, regarding her as warily as she regarded it. She never left any of the doors shut on this floor. The rooms needed all the ‘airing out’ they could get. Before her imagination ran away with her again, Terri told herself that the police had probably closed the door behind them. There was always a rational explanation. She’d forgotten that last night.

  Gertrude’s story of a double murder and a brutal quest to ensure Henrietta had been the heir at all costs had been disturbing, to say the least. Vandermere’s calm rejection of it had made her feel better, but now that she was up here alone, that sense of peace had vanished. Was Gertrude capable of doing all the things Miss Vandermere believed, or was she merely a convenient scapegoat?

  Terri grasped the filigree knob, wondering again why it didn’t match the other half. Standing out here ruminating wasn’t going to get the job done, but the truth was, she dreaded what awaited her.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

  What awaited her was the last thing she could have expected.

  The room was perfect.

  The bed was neatly made, and all of the games and books had been returned to where Dallas had put them the day before. No torn pages or game pieces littered the floor, and none of the planes appeared the worse for wear. Somehow, Dallas must have found time to do this, but she had no idea when, or whether to be pleased or upset. She didn’t like the idea of her daughter being in the room alone, not after everything that had happened. Cleaning up in here must have taken hours. When had she found the time?

  After setting the cleaning equipment on the floor next to Niles’s closet, Terri ventured further into the room. It was perfectly silent and still – no wind blowing, no draft, and no young man in old-fashioned clothes loitering about. The room was several degrees colder than the rest of the house, but that was hardly supernatural. If she had to guess, she’d choose poorly insulated windows as the culprit.

  As if reading her mind, one of the lace curtains fluttered, and Terri headed in that direction
. What had Niles looked at during all those lonely hours when he’d been stuck in bed? How had the view changed over time?

  Looking out, she couldn’t see much, other than the silhouettes of shrubs and trees, standing in stark relief against a periwinkle sky. It remained light out later and later now. Soon it would be the longest day of the year. Terri wondered how much Dallas had managed to do with the garden, and felt guilty that she hadn’t taken the time to check out her daughter’s handiwork. Tomorrow; she’d do it tomorrow.

  Bang.

  Terri whirled around. Niles’s closet door had flown open, sending her cleaning supplies sprawling. “Shit!” She ran for them, envisioning the bleach leaking onto the hardwood floor, destroying it. But all the bottles were still closed.

  Terri approached the closet as carefully as one would approach a snarling dog, and looked inside. It was empty, but large enough to conceal several people. Gertrude, maybe? Or whoever was pretending to be Niles, assuming she was abandoning the ghost theory. The closet door was a single piece of solid wood with the ubiquitous white doorknob – white on both sides this time. It was extremely heavy, nothing like the hollow-core doors used in modern homes.

  She closed it and tested the latch to see if the door would let go and swing open again, but it was a tight fit. She knew it had been closed when she’d entered the room.

  “Niles?” she whispered, feeling foolish but also scared. She turned her back to the closet once more to see if the same thing would happen. Nothing. Perhaps there was a loose joint in the floorboards that had triggered the closet door? She retraced her path to the window, over and over again, at one point even hopping across, putting as much weight on the floor as she could. Still nothing.

  There was no rational explanation for the closet door flying open the way it had, and no Gertrude lurked within. But there was also no reason for her to stay – no cleaning nor salvaging needed to be done. The room was in better shape than most of the others.