Shadows in Scarlet Read Free Page A

beneath the thump of her own feet.
    She shut the door to her apartment and set the alarm system. As she turned toward the kitchen the phone rang. “Melrose Hall, Amanda Witham."
    "Amanda!” exclaimed Wayne's deep voice. “I just heard about the body!"
    "That was fast."
    "Bill Hewitt's having dinner with Mother and me tonight—you know, about the grant for the landscaping—but he called to say they'd found a body behind the summerhouse and he'd be late. Did you see it? Is it really gross, like on X-Files?"
    "No way,” Amanda replied, and added to herself, thanks, the literary references were enough. “It's nothing but bones."
    "Are you scared? You want me to come out there and keep you company?"
    Like she didn't know what he meant by that? “You're living a couple of blocks from Bruton Parish Church and its cemetery,” she told him. “Are you scared?"
    "Those are legitimate bodies. Buried will full rites and all that."
    "So?"
    "So the ones that aren't buried properly get kind of restless...."
    "Thanks for thinking of me, Wayne. But everything's cool."
    "Well, if you're sure ... Coming, Mother! I'll see my little girl tomorrow, then, okay, Sally?"
    "Good night, Wayne.” Making a face, Amanda hung up the phone.
    The body in the back yard would be a great excuse to ask a guy over, if she knew any guys more appealing than Wayne. Not that Wayne was repulsive. He was a big, lovable, clumsy puppy who could use a semester at obedience school. His family's wealth made him one of Virginia's most eligible bachelors, but it wasn't his immaturity that was going to keep him one. It was his mother.
    A shame the summerhouse was gone long before Cynthia parked her broom at Melrose. The thought of her sipping tea, pinkie extended, a few paces from a positively indecent dead body would've made Amanda grin with glee if she wasn't also thinking of that body as a living, feeling human being who'd probably met a gruesome end.
    She opened the windows in her kitchen, living room, and bedroom, and switched on the ceiling fans. She wasn't allowed an air conditioner—its bulge would ruin the look of the house. But the approaching storm sent a cool if damp and musty breeze before it, stirring the turgid air. Lafayette arranged himself on the sill of the living room window, his tail draped artistically over the computer on the desk below.
    Amanda popped a frozen lasagna dinner into the microwave and threw together a salad. Tonight she'd definitely get some work done. That was the reason for this job, after all, over and beyond its basic appeal. She was getting an apartment, spending money, and good experience for her resume while she wrote her thesis on the socionomic aspect of historical artifacts. She liked these long, quiet, solitary evenings. She enjoyed being on her own. Really.
    Thunder grumbled closer. A few raindrops plopped onto the roof. The breeze fluttered Lafayette's fur. Amanda watched the local news while she ate, and was cleaning up when Lafayette woke suddenly from his doze and looked out the window, nose twitching, ears pricked.
    A rabbit? Amanda asked herself. A deer? The kitchen garden attracted all sorts of wildlife....
    Every hair on Lafayette's body shot upright. He leaped from the windowsill, scattered the papers on the desk, and dived beneath the couch leaving only his bottle brush of a tail exposed.
    The nape of Amanda's neck prickled. She turned off the TV and the lights and looked out each window in turn. Beyond the floodlit halo surrounding the house the night was pitch black. She might as well have been standing on a stage trying to check out the audience. From the bedroom she could see only a smooth sweep of lawn, silent and empty. From the kitchen window she caught an impression of tree limbs tossing in the wind. The living room window overlooked the gravel drive, the kitchen garden, and the first terrace. Raindrops made blotches on the brick. The breeze was growing cooler by the moment.
    Maybe someone was out