Demon on a Distant Shore Read Free

“Shall we make ourselves comfortable?” she suggested. She let herself down on the nearest armchair and propped her cane against it.
    Michael didn’t say a word and his eyes regarded me disapprovingly from under crunched brows. I had the feeling he was not a believer.
    Royal and I settled side by side on a long couch.
    “Understand we wouldn’t consider your services had not Royal recommended you,” Michael said sternly.
    Royal’s hand increased the pressure. I gave him a thin smile which didn’t reassure him I would not tell Michael Eccleston into which orifice he could insert his job offer.
    “Michael,” Brienne reproved. “How she gets results doesn’t matter.” Her expression turned somber. “We last saw Gordon yesterday morning.”
    “What time?”
    “Around ten. This isn’t the first time Gordon’s taken himself off. He likes to explore and he likes to hide. We lost him for ten hours one day last month, until we found him in a corner of the attics. He planned his adventure, took his laptop, some books, and a veritable picnic basket of goodies and settled in for the duration.”
    “Did he take anything this time?”
    “Not that we can see.”
    “I presume you made a thorough search?”
    “We tore the place apart.”
    “And he didn’t sneak outside?”
    “We have the best security coverage available. We reviewed footage of the grounds. He’s in here somewhere. We hope you can find him.”
    “I’ll get started then, shall I?” I got to my feet, pulling my hand free of Royal’s. “Can someone show me the way to the attics?”
    “The attics?” Brienne echoed.
    “I like to start at the top and work my way down,” I lied. I actually wanted to be as far as possible from other people.
    Brienne slowly got to her feet. “Michael dear, will you find someone to show her the attics?”
    Brienne’s stroke left her with impaired peripheral vision and weakness in one side of her body. Getting around must be a slow, careful process for her and tromping through the house with me would be exhausting. I hoped Michael didn’t volunteer. I didn’t want him in earshot.
    Michael humphed as he left the room.
    Brienne smiled at me. “Don’t mind Michael. He’s a cynic at the best of times. I understand from Royal you helped the police department with a number of investigations before you two became partners. Is it some kind of . . . psychic ability?”
    “Something like that.”
    Michael returned with a brown-skinned woman in black slacks and green dress shirt. Glossy blue-black hair wound around her crown in a braid. After a swift peek at me from wide brown eyes, she directed her gaze to the floor.
    “Anarosa is our housekeeper,” Brienne said.
    I got to my feet. “This may take some time.”
    Brienne nodded. “As long as you require.”
    Anarosa ducked her head and about-turned. I followed her from the library, trusting Royal to keep Michael and Brienne occupied while I worked.
    Anarosa led me to the far end of the hall, to an elevator just past the stairs. She kept her gaze averted as we rode up.
    “Every inch of this place was searched?”
    “Yes, Ma’am. Several times.”
    “How long have you worked here, Anarosa?”
    She met my eyes and smiled. “Thirty-one years, Ma’am. I came here as a maid when I was sixteen.”
    The elevator stopped with barely a shudder. We stepped out in a wide landing with paneled walls and ceiling and a plush forest-green carpet. Old paintings lined the walls, heavy frames all but touching. I followed Anarosa to a wood door, then up a twisting staircase which brought us to another passage, this one narrow and uncarpeted. The passage spanned the breadth of the house and others ran off from it. The attics must be a warren.
    Anarosa faced me with her head down. “Is there anywhere particular you want to start, Ma’am?”
    “This is good, Anarosa.” I stared at her bowed head. “Is anyone else up here?”
    “No, Ma’am.”
    “Okay. I’d like you to go