Secrets in the Stone Read Free

to the curb on Main Street in front of a four-story square brick building with a wide front porch, tall carved double wooden doors, and a row of waist-high iron hitching posts bordering the sidewalk that made it seem as if carriages should be pulling up in front rather than mechanized vehicles.
    “Well, I hope your trip is successful,” Adrian said, trying to imagine what kind of sale brought such an exclusive woman to the quaint little town.
    “It already has been.” Melinda opened the door, slid out, and then leaned back inside while the driver got her luggage. “As for the rest of it, I have no idea. I’m in search of an artist whose work I saw in the estate listings.”
    “Really? Anyone I might’ve heard of?”
    “I have no idea. I don’t even know his name.”
    Adrian smiled uncertainly. “Well, then. Good hunting.”
    “Thank you.” Melinda held out her hand. “By the way, I didn’t get your number.”
    Adrian hesitated for just a second, then shook Melinda’s hand and recited her cell phone number.
    “Have a pleasant evening,” Melinda said, drawing back from the cab.
    “Good night,” Adrian called, closing her hand tightly while trying to ignore the buzz of electricity in her palm. She settled back in the dark confines of the cab, which now seemed to echo with emptiness, as if Melinda had taken something vital with her when she left. If she believed in such things, Adrian would almost think she’d been bewitched.

Chapter Two

    “Roads are still pretty bad from that big storm last week,” the cabbie grumbled as he inched his way down the narrow unpaved lane that led to her grandmother’s house outside town. “Hope you’ve got a four-wheel drive. You don’t want to get stuck out here.”
    “We’ve got a Jeep,” Adrian said, silently hoping her grandmother had remembered to have it serviced sometime in the last year. She doubted anyone had driven it since the last time she’d visited, and that had been…a long time ago. She rubbed condensation from the window and peered out, but only an occasional light flickered through the increasingly thick snowfall. Her grandmother’s stately home was surrounded by two hundred acres of wooded farmland fronting on the Hudson, and the nearest neighbors were over a mile away. In the summer, when escaping from the crowds and heat of the city, Adrian rejoiced in the privacy. Now, with the naked trees standing lonely sentry along the twisting, dark drive, the barren landscape seemed cold and unwelcoming.
    “Uh-oh,” the cabbie said. “Looks like you’ve got a problem.”
    “What?” Adrian leaned forward, craning her neck to see out the windshield. She could barely make out the outline of the rambling three-story stone and frame farmhouse with its wide porch and massive stone chimney through the storm. The barn behind the house was completely invisible. She grasped the back of the front seat for balance as the cab abruptly stopped. “What?”
    “You’ve got a tree across the driveway here. Musta come down in that high wind we had a while back. And there’s a big pile of rocks further up. I can’t get the cab up to the porch.”
    Adrian bolted from the cab, immediately wrapping her arms around her torso. Her thin fleece did little to protect her from the knifing wind and her heavier jacket was in her luggage. In the cones of the headlights, she could just make out the unplowed circular driveway in front of the house. The snow was easily two feet deep where it had drifted against the front porch stairs. One of the huge sheltering oaks bordering the drive now lay blocking it. Beyond that, stones and rubble, the remains of the chimney that once took up most of the right side of the house, lay scattered in the snow.
    “Now there’s a mess,” the cabbie said as he slogged toward her. “Gonna need to get a tarp up on that roof before you get a lot of water damage.”
    “Oh, God.” Adrian’s first instinct was to climb back in the cab and tell him