Page 8 of Fangs, Frost, and Folios
But what if I miss her?
Beatrice shook her head and tried to focus. She’d been in mother mode for too long. She needed a challenge that she could actually solve, and snooping through an old library for a couple of weeks sounded perfect. “Did you contact the nephew yet?”
“I had our butler in Kent call him. He said the young man seemed overly agreeable and completely cooperative. I don’t think I’ll even have to use amnis to get in the house.”
People, on average, were remarkably trusting of anyone with a friendly voice, a briefcase, and a clipboard. Beatrice had brought all three. “I brought my old staff ID from the Huntington.”
“Excellent.”
They crossed another narrow stone bridge, passed a large hunting cottage on the edge of the woods, and followed the one-way track into the trees. The road turned from pavement to gravel, and Giovanni slowed the car.
In the distance, Beatrice saw a brown stone manor house, its black slate roof rising from the mist. Around it was a stone wall that matched the great house with a heavy iron gate, a guardhouse on the right.
A man in a navy peacoat stepped out of the guardhouse. He had a military bearing and an earpiece. “Can I help you, sir?”
“We’re expected,” Giovanni said. “Vecchio and De Novo.”
“Of course, sir. Give me one moment.”
The man walked around the car, speaking quietly into a communication device at his wrist. Within moments, he was back. He nodded at Giovanni and tapped the side of the Range Rover, his breath frosting in the chilly air. “You’ve checked out, Mr. Vecchio. Lord Ramsay welcomes you to Graves Court.”
“Thank you.” The gates opened, and Giovanni pulled forward.
“Graves Court?” Beatrice asked. “Do we need to be worried?”
He smiled. “I believe Terry bought this around a century ago. The name is more dire than the edifice.”
The edifice was, in fact, a Tudor-style manor house with a steep roof and a distinct lack of holiday lights. In a nod to hospitality, there was a large Christmas tree in one window and staff waiting at the front door.
“Secure,” Beatrice murmured. “With Terry, you know it will be secure.”
“Some of us pass out completely during daylight.” Her husband smiled. “Not that there’s much of it this time of year.”
Days were short in the winter, and the air was frigid when a dark-jacketed servant opened Beatrice’s car door.
“Ms. De Novo and Mr. Vecchio,” he said. “Welcome to Graves Court.”
Ben landed in the backyard of the house in San Marino, expecting to see his little sister jumping on the trampoline or riding her bike in the courtyard. She would drop everything and run to him, thrilled he was visiting after six months away.
“Hmm.” Tenzin dropped down next to him and looked around. “I like the new arbor.”
“What?” Ben looked around and saw a mission-style redwood arbor where the trampoline used to sit. “What happened to the trampoline?”
“I suspect your sister doesn’t use it anymore.” Tenzin waved at someone in the distance. “Dema has spotted us.”
Ben looked around the house in confusion. “Did they go out? I told you we needed to call them before we got here.”
Tenzin lifted her face and took a deep breath. “Sadia is here. I can smell her.”
Ben frowned. “It’s strange when you do that. Please don’t do that.”
“If you paid attention, you’d be able to smell her too. She smells like—”
“Nope.” He raised a hand and walked toward Dema. “We are not talking about the way my little sister smells. That’s a level of vampire weird I’m just not comfortable with yet.”
Dema smiled as she approached. “Hey, guys. Good to see you. Zain made up the guesthouse. I figured that’s where you’d want to be.”
“Sure, thanks.” Ben bent down and hugged Sadia’s nanny, who was practically a member of the family at this point. Not that she didn’t have her own family too. “How’s your mom and dad?”
