Chapter 8
EIGHT
Before making my appearance at the homecoming and reunion celebrations this weekend, I’d picked a bundle of wildflowers from the hiking trail and settled it in front of Momma’s headstone at the graveyard.
“I haven’t told Savilla,” I’d said, continuing our ongoing conversation. “And, honestly, I blame you for having to deal with any of this.”
Even dead for almost a year and a half, Momma was still the person I told my inmost thoughts to, especially the angry ones.
“If you’d told Mr. Finch that I was his kid before you died, then we could’ve dealt with this together, but instead, I have these weird pieces of my childhood—and Savilla’s—to work out.”
I’d imagined Momma nodding along and asking me what I planned to do now.
“You kept me away from the Finches for my entire life, and I get it. You didn’t want me caught up in their wealth and all the drama that came with it.
But… I just think it would’ve been nice to know that I had a sister, especially after watching you and Aunt DeeDee have such an amazing relationship. ”
I’d run a finger along Momma’s name engraved into the stone, thinking about all the times I’d almost picked up the phone to call Savilla with the news.
I’d been too chicken, though, which was probably the same excuse Momma would’ve given for leaving me news about my paternity in a letter a year after her death.
The graveside conversation came to mind now as Savilla led Lacy and me back down the stairs to the first floor. When we were in the main hallway once again, Lacy excused herself to find Anton.
“Charlie might be wondering where I am too,” Lacy added, giving me a look.
She wasn’t wrong. As soon as he had a free minute, I was pretty sure he’d want to ask her why she’d been going through a dead man’s pockets. I hoped she would find the courage to tell him the truth, because I didn’t want to have to keep a secret from him.
Either way, Lacy’s absence meant that I was now stuck with my secret sister.
“Speaking of Charlie,” Savilla said, looking in the direction of the ballroom to make sure no one else was nearby. “He asked me to show you around.”
“Me?” A prickle of nerves went up my arms. I hadn’t told Charlie about the will reading or that Savilla was my half-sister. I needed to process the information fully on my own first.
“I don’t have time to give you a tour of the entire house right now,” Savilla said, glancing at her watch as if she were a real businesswoman. “I asked one of the staff to start demartriculating people into rooms.”
I ignored the strange word combo, but I couldn’t keep from giving her a quizzical look.
“I need to make sure everyone gets settled so I sorted the guests based on how well they know Aubergine. It’s a good practice run in hospitiality since I’m thinking about converting The Rose into a grand hotel in the new year.
” Savilla smiled as she said the words, but it was forced.
She seemed tired. “Depends on what I find out at the will reading tomorrow. I think I know everything, but there can always be surprises.”
My stomach flipped. This was my chance, my “in,” but I just couldn’t do it. I wasn’t ready.
“I know.” Savilla’s eyes lit up and she raised a finger. “It’s not at all the same, but I can show you the general layout of the house in about ten minutes.” She motioned for me to follow her as she took out a small ring of keys and we headed toward the vestibule and out the front door.
The darkness and cool air would’ve been perfect for an autumnal stroll, but in the middle of the chaos of this weekend, it felt more inconvenient than anything else. Savilla took me to the door of what appeared to be a two-story garage around the side of the home.
“There’s a replica of the estate in the old carriage house,” she said by way of explanation, as she inserted a key into the lock on the front door. “The main house has four floors—or, six, depending on how you’re counting.”
I squinted one eye. “How can you not know how many floors are in your own house?”
“Easy. There’s the first floor, which is where we came in and has the ballroom, the solarium, the library, the kitchen, the Color Gallery.” Savilla ticked the rooms off on her fingers. “And the second floor, where we have the Music Room, sitting rooms and parlors, several guest rooms.”
My ears perked up at the mention of the Music Room, the place where Brett had asked Lacy to meet him at midnight.
“The third floor is mostly for family and guest rooms, and the fourth floor was for servants but now houses rooms for close friends and family, and Daddy’s old office.”
I knew this to be true from my time at the pageant this summer. “And the other two floors?”
Savilla flipped on a panel of lights that illuminated a high garage housing a fleet of transportation vehicles ranging from a motorcycle that looked like it was straight out of a 1970s episode of Happy Days to an actual carriage.
“The basement has a couple of storage rooms, the bowling alley, a pool.”
My eyes widened. “You have an indoor pool?”
“You’re so funny,” Savilla said, with a grin.
Am I though?
“There’s a pool in the basement, but it’s empty right now.” Savilla shot me the same look her parents must’ve given her as a child. “It’s very dangerous without water, so do not go down there alone.”
“Deal,” I agreed. “And the sixth floor?”
“The sub-basement. That’s where they put storage, the wine cellar, the boilers, and for reasons I’ll never understand, a small hall for hosting get-togethers.” Savilla’s eyebrows turned down. “A man died down there once. A butler, when Daddy was a little boy. We’re pretty sure it’s haunted.”
She said the words so matter-of-factly, as if it was an unavoidable reality for one’s home to feature a ghost or two, but in a place with the history and scale of the Rose Palace, maybe it was inevitable.
I’d also caught how her voice had changed on the word “butler.” It wasn’t disrespectful exactly, but it was removed, as if the servants were them as opposed to us.
I didn’t like that, particularly since my family roots—or at least the ones I’d grown up knowing about—would’ve placed me here as a scullery maid rather than mistress of the home.
“Come on, this is what I wanted to show you.” Savilla directed me toward the far corner and pulled off a tarp to reveal a six-foot-high dollhouse.
“It’s the exact rooms and proportions of The Rose.
Daddy made it for me when I was a baby, so I grew up with it in the nursery.
At some point in my teen years, it got moved out here to be out of the way, but I thought it might be the fastest way for you to get a feel for the full scale of the place. ”
I began studying the structure, which was definitely impressive—and detailed. There were pots and pans in the kitchen, a plant with plastic leaves in the entryway, and miniature furniture in every single room.
I fingered the labels on each room, running my hand over the ones reading Vestibule, Color Gallery, and Primrose Ballroom before bending down to the bottom floor, which must have been the sub-basement Savilla had mentioned.
“That’s the hall. It’s officially called the Vampire Room,” Savilla said, coming to stand over my shoulder.
I studied the label and, sure enough, she was right.
“That’s just what we call it, not because there are actual vampires. No one has actually ever, like, sucked anyone’s blood down there.”
“Then why call it that?” Despite myself, I felt a shiver run down my spine as I remembered the local lore surrounding a tunnel collapse at one of the mines in the early 1900s.
A lone, bloodied figure with pointed teeth had run out of the coal mine, and when the rescuers had chased him down to the graveyard, he’d disappeared into a mausoleum.
Of course, it wasn’t true, but the childlike part of my mind still wondered, What if it is?
“My great-grandmother traveled to the Balkans on her honeymoon and was obsessed with the legends about vampires, so she came back here and decided to host a themed event for Day of the Dead that year—1925, I think. She had an artist come in and paint all of these dark murals.”
“How have I never heard about this?”
Savilla shrugged. “I guess the tours we did in school didn’t think it was kid-friendly.”
“Kids would love that,” I said, my voice rising in pitch even as fear crept up. Part of me wanted to descend to the Vampire Room that very moment to see it for myself, and the other part of me wanted to run back home right that minute.
Savilla’s phone rang and she took it from her pocket, answering monosyllabically and hanging up after less than a minute before turning back to me.
“I’ve gotta get back, but take your time.
Just turn out the lights when you’re done, and I’m sure I’ll see you back in the ballroom later.
Seems like that’s the headquarters for the investigation.
” Concern flitted across her face and she stared at me, frozen for a brief moment in the reality of the weekend. “I can’t believe Brett’s dead.”
“Me neither,” I said in a quiet voice.
Savilla took my hand and squeezed it tight, signaling with her resolute expression that it wasn’t my fault and we would carry on. A moment later, I watched her walk away.
I hadn’t been able to save Brett, but I couldn’t fail Lacy too. With a little more than twenty-four hours until his email was set to expose her, I needed answers fast.