On Deadly Grounds by Kaye D. Schmitz

Author:Kaye D. Schmitz [Schmitz, Kaye D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lamplighter Suspense
Published: 2020-05-07T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

“Pardon me, ma’am.”Mattie’s grandmother knelt beside her stack of freshly picked zucchini and wiped her brow with the back of her gloved hand. She looked up to see a young man watching her. “Yes?” she asked. “How can I help you?” She prepared to rise.

“Please,” he said, “let me help you.” He put a hand under her elbow and stabilized her as she stood.

“Thank you, young man,” she said. “Getting off the ground used to be a lot easier than it is these days.” She smiled at him. “Now that I can see you properly, what can I do for you?”

“I’m new in town and was hoping someone could tell me the hours that big house is open.” He pointed to Clairmont Place.

“Oh, it’s not ever open. Been closed up tight for more than sixty-five years. You must be from far away. Even people in Asheville know that.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m from up north, but I’ve actually been out of the country the past few years. I met a couple of fellas who told me about it and said it was really beautiful inside.”

“Well, like I told you, the house has been closed for a long time. Those guys you met must have been pretty old to remember what the inside looked like. Or ghosts.” She laughed at her own joke, but he didn’t appear to be amused. She bent and picked up the cut zucchini and stacked the vegetables in her apron. “Sorry I couldn’t help you.”

She turned toward her house.

“I’ve come a really long way to look at it,” he said. His voice trembled. “You see, it reminds me a lot of my grandparents’ home. Where I was raised. I just came into some money and am building a house to honor them. Up north. And wanted to incorporate some features from that mansion into the one I’m building. Are you sure there’s no one who could let me go in? Or go in with me? It’s so important to me, and I’ve come such a long way.”

“Honey, I wish I could help you. My husband’s head caretaker here, so he’s the only one who ever goes in—to perform maintenance, you know. Although, there’s a big meeting coming, and the house will be open in a few months. You’re welcome to come back then.”

“I’m sorry,” he said and put his hand on her arm. “I didn’t mean to impose. You’ve been most helpful. May I carry your vegetables for you?”

“No, I live in the house right here. I can manage that far. Why don’t you give me your name in case my husband has any other ideas? And let me know where you’re staying.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I probably won’t be here that much longer.”

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