02 Murder at the Mansion Read Free

before it was assumed he was some terrible monster and found himself confronted with pitchforks at dawn. She chuckled to herself at the thought and took the long and winding Arden Road up toward the newly-occupied expansive estate in which she hoped to find him.
    It had been a very long time since Annabelle had last visited the estate. There were, in fact, a few such large properties of its kind at varying distances from the village, though not much was known about the owners. Most of them popped up in the village or at community events just frequently enough to keep rumors at bay. They tended to be older sorts from distinguished families, left to enjoy the serenity of their abodes as their offspring ventured into the metropolitan cities of the world to seek out their fortunes (or squander it, as some rumors suggested).
    This particular property had always been shrouded in mystery. Annabelle had heard it referred to by some of the older villagers as Woodlands Manor, presumably due to its peculiar position tucked deep into a thickly wooded area. While many such properties were sought after for their magnificent views and the isolated peace of such a mellow and sleepy part of the world, this secretive and secluded estate had garnered little attention. Until now.
    Annabelle eased her car off the smooth surface of Arden Road and onto the grassy, overgrown path that led blindly into the trees. The stiff, firm wheels of the Mini jostled over the ground, giving Annabelle a good shaking, until she emerged a few dozen yards later into an expanse that made her squeal, “Crikey!”
    The grounds of Woodlands Manor were immaculate. Vivid green lawns extended away in front of her, pressing up against the wild woods like some vast oasis of the desert. Delicately pruned hedges and tastefully arranged patches of irises, roses, and petunias threw elegant splashes of color onto the grounds like an expert painter’s canvas. A gently curving gravel path extended deep between the guiding hedgerows, leading the way to the Elizabethan mansion that stood proudly aloft, as though surveying the beauty of its surroundings.
    Annabelle eased the car forward slowly, taking in the impressive scene that surrounded her. Why on earth would such a well-preserved estate be tucked away beyond view of everything around it? Had these astonishingly lavish grounds always been here? She rounded a large fountain that stood tall on the open area facing the property, parking the car in front of the stone steps that led to its gigantic oak doors. Upon exiting, she allowed herself one more look at the incredible sight of the mansion grounds, spun on her heels, and marched in her determined manner up the steps. After a couple of enthusiastic whacks of the heavy iron knocker, the door was opened by a young, attractive woman in jeans and a t-shirt. She had golden blonde hair that framed her pretty face nicely, and thin, sharp lips that lent her musical voice an upbeat tone.
    “Hello?” she said, curiously, before noticing Annabelle’s collar, “Oh. How may I help you?”
    “Good morning,” Annabelle said in her most cheerful voice, “I’m Reverend Annabelle Dixon. Of St. Mary’s church in the village. I recently learned that someone had moved into this magnificent property, so I wished to extend a welcome.”
    “I see. That’s very kind of you, Reverend,” the girl said, set at ease by the Vicar’s open manner. “I’m afraid Sir John is unable to meet you at the moment, however.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yes. He has just begun his daily meditation.”
    “Really?”  Annabelle said, considering this information. “Well, taking the time to reflect is very important and difficult to find these days. Do you happen to know when he will be available?”
    “He is not to be disturbed for another hour yet. If you are able to return then, I’m sure he’d love to chat with you.”
     “Wonderful,” Annabelle said, clapping her hands together, “I shall call upon you in