Page 39 of The Curse of Redwood
“How is all this still here?” I asked, as we passed decorative vases, antique tables, and fine china. “I’m shocked people haven’t looted all the valuables or that the city hasn’t auctioned it all off.”
“Why would they?” Z guided me through an arched doorway on the left side and into another small sitting room. “Redwood Manor is on the market but still has an owner for the time being. The city has no claim to the items inside.”
“What? Really?” I stopped walking. “I thought it was abandoned and that the bank took it.”
He shook his head. “The last owner left Redwood, yes, but last I heard the mortgage was still being paid.”
“The last owner died, though, right? People say the man died from a stroke and that his wife went nuts and drowned herself in a pond after they left Ivy Grove.”
“True. But a beneficiary inherited the home. I’ve never met the new owner, but I’ve heard the realtor discuss it during her visits with interested buyers. However, those visits are rare these days. No one within their right mind would ever move here.”
I mulled over his words and rubbed at my temple where a headache was forming. Maybe it was due to the dust and stuffiness inside the mansion.
“So the new owner allows events to be held here like my friend’s book signing?” I asked.
“For a fee, I’m sure,” Z answered. “I have often wondered if the curse will claim the current owner since they’ve never stepped foot into the house. A mystery, is it not?”
“Totally.”
I had the sudden urge to do more research to see if I could find out more on the owner. Did they believe the ghost stories and alleged curse? Was that why they hadn’t shown themselves on the property?
“Oh, dear. I know that look.” Z tilted my chin up and smiled down at me. “Such a curious little creature, you are.”
“It’s your fault. You had to go and open your mouth. You know I love mysteries.”
“I know.” Z sighed and walked toward an open doorway.
A clock chimed behind me, and I jolted at the sound before darting forward and following Z out of the sitting room. I nudged his back upon hearing his rumbling laugh. “Stop taking pleasure in my screams, you sadist.”
That only made him laugh harder. Secretly, I loved it.
“Where is this sunroom? BFE?” I asked, stomping sluggishly as I walked behind him. “We’ve been walking for ages. My legs are on fire.”
“Quit your whining. We’re nearly there.”
“Carry me,” I said, resting a hand on the wall. “I can’t go on.”
I was exaggerating, of course. Annoying him was too funny.
“Suit yourself,” Z said, not falling for my stunt. “Just remember that if you’re left behind, you’ll be alone. Another spirit might wish to say hello.”
There was a spring in my step as I continued walking, catching up to him in a matter of seconds. I gripped his vest and called him an asshole under my breath. It only made him chuckle again. God, I really could get used to the sound.
“Here we are,” he said, as we neared a bright room.
Once passing through the doorway, I stared in awe at the cathedral ceiling and the sunlight spilling in through the walls of windows. Sure, the room could use some tidying, like a round of Windex and heavy dusting, but the beauty remained regardless. A chaise lounge set to one side, while a multi-patterned couch was on the other with a stand beside it. In the center of the room was a glass table and two chairs.
“It’s so bright in here,” I said, craning my neck as I looked upward and spun in a slow circle.
“Yes,” he agreed, following my gaze. “Other than the library, this is my favorite area of the mansion. When you live in the dark, it’s nice to stand in the light every once in a while.”
“What was this room used for when you were alive?” I asked.
“Sometimes, Mother and I would have our breakfast in here or afternoon tea,” he answered, touching the table. His eyes had a faraway look in them, and I wondered if he was remembering that time in his life. “I also liked to come here and read.”
“There’s definitely enough light for that,” I said, sliding off my backpack and sitting on the couch. I sneezed twice in a row, and the headache throbbed in the base of my skull.
Ugh. Stupid allergies.
