Chapter 14
A listair
Maggie and John went to bed as soon as they got home last night. In bed before midnight on New Year’s Eve? I’ve been living in the Rosemont attic as a ghost for years, but even I thought that was ridiculous.
I drifted up to my attic in a bit of a funk.
This hadn’t been the holiday season I’d hoped for.
I floated over to the window that faced the old mill.
The night sky was clear and cloudless. In the distance, muffled pops and cracks signaled the arrival of midnight.
I strained my eyes and caught glimpses of a few high-arching fireworks.
I suppose I’ll have to be satisfied with that level of frivolity.
New Year’s Day began in a leisurely fashion.
Maggie and John both slept in and spent a quiet day at home.
I wafted restlessly up and down the stairs, longing for something to break the monotony.
Late in the afternoon, a car pulled into the drive.
I immediately recognized the tall, trim gentleman who emerged from the driver’s seat.
We’d spent a fair amount of time together in Rosemont’s attic—although he was unaware of my presence.
I had watched him examine our hotel silver, antique paintings, and priceless furniture with a connoisseur’s eye.
He was knowledgeable and treated our treasures with a reverence I found refreshing.
He was dressed neatly in a turtleneck and slacks, even on this day off. I approved.
He opened the passenger door for the woman with him. I wouldn’t have expected anything less.
Maggie and John were expecting them. I’d seen Maggie arranging hors d’oeuvres in the library earlier, and wondered why, but now it made sense—we were having company. I love when we host at Rosemont. My spirits were picking up.
I followed them into the library and hovered in a corner, eavesdropping on their conversation.
When they got to the part about Candy Alley, my ears perked up. John was right—thatbuilding had a sketchy past. Shady dealings had taken place there, indeed. I could’ve told them a thing or two.
I was pleased to hear that Gordon remembered the filing cabinet in the attic. The documents stored there contained much of what they needed to know. I could add a few juicy details myself, but there was no way for me to share them.
I drifted after them into the kitchen and listened with half an ear as the conversation wound down over dinner. My thoughts remained firmly fixed on the events of years ago.
Later that evening, I watched as Gordon and the woman climbed back into the car. What an interesting adventure they were about to embark on.