Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Tonight we’re exploring the third floor,” Oscar told the camera.
“And then the seance room, where Seth Ullman supposedly summoned the spirit of his daughter. Is she still trapped in the house with her father? Our results so far suggest the answer is a definite ‘yes.’” He glanced past the lens to Chris. “How was that?”
“Great take.” Chris gave him a thumbs-up.
“Not too over-the-top?”
“Nah, Zeek still has you beat in that department.”
“I heard that,” Tina called from where she sat behind the monitors, making sure all the feeds were up and running.
“And I’m right, aren’t I?”
She grinned. “One hundred percent.”
Zeek had all the energy and personality of a golden retriever puppy, which naturally carried over to Zeeking the Unknown’s videos. His cohost, Adrienne, was more reserved, and the dichotomy plus their natural on-screen chemistry was one of the drivers of their success.
“Aren’t you glad you’re here somewhere classy with us, instead of with him in some old hotel with room service and air conditioning?” Oscar teased.
“Do you really want an answer to that?”
“Probably not.”
Night pressed against the bay windows behind Tina, broken only by the stars and the tiny dot of light indicating a ship out to sea.
The wind had picked up after sunset, and the old house creaked as its boards chafed uneasily.
The stiff breeze had also chased out much of the day’s collected heat, and even the humidity didn’t seem as bad.
It would have been a great evening for a romantic walk on the beach with Nigel. But even without the threat of Ethan chasing them down, they had work to do. Romance would have to wait.
They geared up and returned to the stairs, climbing up to the third floor, which proved to be the most heavily renovated of the entire house.
The walls of the main hall were painted a soft cream, and set closer together than the more spacious ones on the other two floors.
More doors opened onto it as well, some of them standing open to reveal tiny rooms that felt even more cramped thanks to the slant of the roof.
The air was breathlessly hot, all the heat of the day risen to collect in this space just beneath the roof.
Oscar went to the end of the hall above the first floor parlor, where a small window looked out onto the night.
The frame screeched and fought him, but he managed to force it open and let some of the breeze in.
“This must have originally been the servants’ quarters.” Oscar wiped sweat off his brow.
Nigel pushed up his glasses; they kept sliding down his nose thanks to the sheen of moisture from the heat. “Naturally. They’d put the servants in the smallest, most uncomfortable rooms in the house.”
Oscar couldn’t imagine how unpleasant it must have been up here back in the day. How did the servants even manage to sleep? “Let’s take a look around.”
Judging by the renovations, the Vanderwalls had intended to use this floor as their living quarters, as well as storage for all the things needed to run a bed and breakfast. There was a spacious bathroom that had been remodeled to include a shower, a combination living and dining room, a storage room with shelves that were mostly empty except for a few mildewed linens, a handyman room full of tools and cleaning supplies, and a laundry complete with industrial-looking washer and dryer.
The tower room on this floor had also been used for storage, with an ’80s-era vacuum tucked inside along with a mop and broom.
Behind the cleaning implements were a number of objects covered in sheets—extra furniture, maybe.
Some of them appeared to be the paintings missing from the walls downstairs, the edges of their frames just peeking out from behind a sheet draped over them.
At the far end of the hall were two bedrooms set aside for the family.
One had a large fireplace, modern queen-sized bed, and built-in closets that had obviously been added during the renovation.
The only window was small; had they planned on installing AC at some point?
Surely they must have, if they wanted anyone to stay there during the peak summer months.
The other bedroom was the one they glimpsed in the tape. Andy’s room, stripped of toys but with the Transformers bedsheets still in place, albeit beneath a thick coating of dust. The furniture had been left behind in the family’s haste to abandon the house, just as in the parents’ bedroom.
“Are you sensing anything?” Nigel asked.
“We’re being watched, I think, but the sensation is faint. Probably Ullman, seething because we’re still in his house.”
Since the floor seemed quiet, at least for now, they returned to the hall and the stairs leading up to the tower.
The stairway narrowed for the final flight, then ended on a small landing.
A slender window on the landing overlooked the beach and ocean, currently lost in darkness except for the far-off lights of ships.
Stars spangled the sky, but the sliver of moon had set shortly after the sun went down.
The door off the landing was the most ornate they’d encountered in the house so far.
Originally a rich shade of scarlet, the paint had become mottled over the years, irregular patches of black creeping over its surface.
Oddly, there was a knocker set in the center: a wolf’s head with a ring in its mouth.
On impulse, Oscar reached out, grasped the brass ring, and knocked.
On the other side of the door, something knocked back.