The Last Door: Beyond The Veil #3 (Beyond the Veil Mystery) by Sheila Lowe

Author:Sheila Lowe [Lowe, Sheila]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Write Choice Ink
Published: 2022-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

twenty-three

Not bothering to shield herself from what she was certain was a product of Dianne’s creative imaginings—a precarious mountain of furniture or sports equipment waiting to topple and injure her—Jessica cautiously pushed the door open a few inches. Cobwebs festooned the jamb, their dusty strings drifting to the floor. The spiders who had woven them had abandoned the web long ago, moving on to other homes, or dying.

Using her foot to open the door the rest of the way, she saw nothing that at first glance appeared to require padlocks. The cobwebs, and the dust motes dancing in the air, disturbed by her entrance, told her that she was the first to see this room in a very long time. Certainly, no staff had been in here to clean. Or to store attic-bound junk.

Raindrops pattered on grime-caked windows and the lowering clouds cast it in somber shadows, but in contrast to what had just happened downstairs in the foyer, there was nothing dangerous or frightening to see.

Dianne had lied when she claimed this room was used for storage. But lied for what purpose? The downstairs salon was dignified and elegant with its impressive grand piano. This was a room where a student might spend hours practicing on the old upright that stood against the rear wall, an empty music stand nearby, and an armchair whose seat cushion bore a shiny indent.

She let her imagination run wild, picturing Evanov the teacher sitting in the armchair, patiently, or more likely impatiently, listening to his students and instructing them. “You need to practice your trills,” he might say kindly. Or, perhaps issuing a stern warning. “How much time did you spend on this piece in the last week? You have made absolutely no progress. If you expect me to continue teaching you, you must do better.”

She could easily picture him intimidating a young student into submission. A heavy Russian accent would be a bonus. With a name like his, he would have one, wouldn’t he?

Like a czar, Claudia had said. It seemed to fit.

Jessica dusted off the piano bench with her hand and wiped her hand on her jeans. An old metronome stood on top of the piano. Unlatching the cover, she set the pendulum rod at a slow tempo and sat down. With her eyes following the steady back and forth of the tick-tick-tick of the pendulum, she placed her hands over the keys and waited to move into a trance state.

It did not take long for pesky thoughts to intrude. Why couldn’t we play on the more impressive grand piano in the salon? Is it because of what happened with Rostya?

For some reason of her own, Elise had led Jessica up here. If she did not want to play the piano, what were they here for?

Jessica, irked by her inability to concentrate, shoved away the noise in her mind and refocused her attention, poised for the spirit to take control of her body and play her favorite pieces.

Ten minutes later, when

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