Page 14

Lavender

“Thank you, Lio,” I replied to the friendly detective and cut the call. Well, now I knew how Aunt Aggie died.

Chatter held my gaze as the third person with us, Rock, cocked his head. We were in the field that was separate from the estate. I’d been expecting a guy called Apache, so Rock had thrown me off stride, but Chatter reassured me he was the second partner in BlackRock Construction. Either way, Rock knew what he was talking about as he used a sketch book to quickly craft ideas and make note of what I wanted.

“What did he say?” Chatter asked.

“That Aunt Aggie had fallen and had been rushed to hospital with a broken leg. They’d wanted to keep her in, but she’d discharged herself. She was found four weeks later when someone called in a welfare check. Aggie had passed in her sleep,” I said sadly.

“Sorry to hear that,” Chatter murmured, stroking my arm.

“I hate that she died alone and in pain!” The words burst from me, and I swallowed hot tears back.

“Yeah. That’s valid to feel, Lavender, but we’ll honour her memory,” Chatter soothed as I wrestled control of my emotions.

I nodded in agreement, and Rock began asking some questions again. No doubt to distract me. We finally figured out I didn’t like modern concrete monstrosities, as I called them. I loved gothic architecture and wide spaces. Rock quickly sketched a central building with wings coming off it either side and forming a square. In the middle, he placed a garden for picnics.

I nodded as I liked that, and then he drew a second and third, which I gave approval for. For the cars, he designed a nineteen-sixties style building with the neon lights and juke boxes and old-fashioned tools, etcetera. It looked amazing.

“These are rough. Give us a month, and we’ll have detailed drawings back to you for all four museums. The doll museum”—he held back his laughter as Chatter shivered—“which you say would need a building of its own… how about a huge dollhouse?” Rock suggested.

I gaped at his idea and then grinned. “We don’t use the D-word around Chatter,” I said, hearing a whimper. “We use the word cretin. But a giant cretin house would be amazing. However, in light of him visiting, see that strand of trees? Maybe we could build it there? Trees encircle all four sides, but there is a large clearing in the middle, and it would hide it from Chatter’s view.”

Rock snorted, and I guessed he was aware of Chatter’s phobia.

“Let me check it out,” he suggested and nodded to Chatter.

“Go with him,” I ordered, and Chatter sent me a look. “You’re curious. I’m within screaming distance of you, and I’ll be fine.”

Chatter sent me a lingering expression before chasing off after Rock. I gazed around the field as I sat down. There were a lot of wildflowers growing here, and I didn’t want it ruined. But there was a large swathe of grassy land where Rock said we could build on and leave the wildflower area alone.

As soon as I approved the designs, BlackRock Construction would apply for permits and whatnots. Rock had shown me where a road would need to go, and there was a patch of barren land that I could possibly buy for a car park. Rock was going to look into it and find out who owned it. It was highly likely a local farmer did, but the land was useless.

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and snapped my head in the direction of Ravenberry. Towering trees hid my home from me, but I could just see the tip of the widow’s tower in the distance. What caught my attention was the hulking figure in the treeline watching me. Unsure what to do, I watched him. I couldn’t make out his features, but somehow, he didn’t mean harm.

I lifted my hand and waved at him, and he cocked his head. Before I could call out, he faded into the trees.

“Shit!” I muttered as I heard Rock and Chatter coming back. No doubt he’d spotted them and fled. Who the hell was he?

◆◆◆

I was still puzzling the mystery when we arrived at the Manor. An expensive car was parked outside, and I frowned. I didn’t know anyone who owned a car like that. A second unfamiliar car was parked next to it, and I wondered who’d come to visit.

As Chatter and Rock stood talking by Rock’s Harley, I opened the door and snarled.

“Get the fuck out!” The loudness of my voice attracted attention, and the man in front of me spun around with a smarmy smile.

“How great to see you!” my cousin Rik said.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Rick!” I repeated.

“You are going to want to listen to me,” Rik warned.

“You have got nothing to say I want to hear. How dare you come here? And the sheer gall of you suing the estate for a cut! What makes you think you’re entitled to any of this? If Uncle Ronald had married another woman, you wouldn’t even know about this. This is my home and my legacy! You’ve no right to any of this just because Uncle Ronald married into it! Rik, you’re not a Bloodsworth, and I’ll fight you until my dying day!”

“Neither are you, Lavender,” Rik sneered, and I paused.

“What? Don’t be stupid,” I hissed as my anger began rising.

“You were adopted! You are not a Bloodsworth either!” Rik crowed triumphantly. “So, listen up, cousin, this is how it’s going to go.”

I reeled back, staring at Rik, horrified. “What?”

“Yeah, Lavender.

Adopted.

Now, before I take everything from you.

I want half of the estate’s value.

I know what the trust is worth, and I am being very generous leaving you half.

At least I’m family.

You, however, aren’t.

Which means the law would side with me.

Get onto your lawyer and inform them to give me half, and I’ll leave you alone with this… mausoleum.

Refuse, and this certificate of adoption will be sent to the lawyers, and you’ll be cut off!” Rik sneered at me as he waved a piece of paper.

I was reeling with horror. Adopted? I couldn’t have been. The trust could only pass to someone with blood. I wrapped my arms around my body as coldness set in.

“If I’m adopted, then I shall ensure the trust finds a legitimate heir. I won’t sign a cent over to you, you lazy, greedy, worthless, entitled, self-important asshole. Rik, I will never allow you to destroy this estate and legacy with your greed and grasping mannerisms. Pass me that adoption certificate, I’ll have it investigated, and if you’re correct, then I’ll step aside for the legal heir!”

Rik drew the piece of paper back. “Give you this so you can destroy it? Not a chance in hell!”

“Unlike you, I have morals and ethics. If what you are saying is correct, then I need to find the true heir. Which still won’t be you!”

I rubbed my arm and froze. Slowly, I lifted my sleeve and looked down at a mark I’d been born with. A smile crossed my face.

“Call the police,” I said to those watching.

“On it,” Tatum replied.

“What are you doing?” Rik yelled, his face growing mottled in temper. “You’ll lose everything!”

“Except I won’t. Because I am a true Bloodsworth, and this was just another scheme of yours.”

“I have evidence—”

“You have shit. There is enough DNA lying around this place I can prove who I am. And, of course, my father is a Bloodsworth, so I can get DNA from him. And plus, there’s this,” I exclaimed, lifting up my arm.

Rik looked confused.

“It’s a birthmark. One all Ravenberry’s are born with. And so does she,” I said, pointing at a portrait that hung in the entrance hall. It was one of my ancestors, Richard’s youngest daughter, and her arms were bare, and one held a matching mark to mine.

“Sign half over!” Rik screamed. “That’s a tattoo!”

“You’re telling me my parents tattooed a baby? Get real. Your scheme went wrong. Get the hell out of my home!” I yelled.

“You’ll regret this, Lavender. This piece of paper will cause you a shitload of problems,” Rik blustered.

“I’ll wipe my ass with that when the judge laughs you out of court!” I hissed.

“You were told to leave by the owner. Do it, or we’ll help you out,” Chatter threatened from behind Rik.

Rik turned and studied them, and I saw the fear cross his face even as he quickly wiped it. He was older than me, and it showed. Rik was in his late forties, and while he’d never been good-looking, he was very unattractive now. His face had jowls, and there was a definite beer gut that his suit couldn’t hide. Rik’s eyes squinted like a pig, and his lips were fat and fleshy. Life hadn’t been kind to Rik at all.

And compared to the two bikers facing him, both hot and muscled, Rik didn’t stand a chance. He backed away with his hands up.

“This isn’t over Lavender. If you don’t share, I’ll make sure you lose everything,” Rik warned as he headed towards the doors.

“Go fuck yourself,” I spat, and Chatter laughed.

“Told him, babe,” he said, snatching me close to him. Phoe and Rock exchanged glances, and a slow grin crossed their faces. I wondered what that meant.

◆◆◆

Later that day, I was wandering the gardens when movement caught my eye. I glanced around and noticed someone standing in the widow’s tower looking down at me. Enough was enough. I headed inside, grabbed the keys to it, and slipped past everyone. Whatever was in there was something I wasn’t ready for. I needed to be alone to confront it.

I opened the door and, climbed the stone steps to it and gazed at the thick wooden door at the top of them. The widow’s tower had two levels. Slowly, I unlocked it and entered. Automatically, I hit the light switch and frowned when it worked this time. I entered and looked around. This was a sitting room, the furniture comfortable and well used. There were books on a table and knickknacks about. But the pictures on the walls took my breath away and caused a sharp pain.

They were mine. I remembered drawing some of them as a child. There were also photos of me and Aggie and a baby book. I saw a photo album and opened and discovered it was full of pictures of me and Aunt Aggie. There were other things here that I’d made, Christmas ornaments and Easter bonnets or baskets.

It hit me hard. This was Aunt Aggie’s real treasure. Memories of me and her together. Everything down below had a monetary value, but up here, this is where Aunt Aggie kept things that meant something to her.

I spotted the stairs leading to the next level and was surprised to find it was now two rooms. I recalled it being just the one massive bedroom up here, but there was a division and two doors. On opening the first, my puzzlement deepened. It was a teenager’s room made for a boy. There were posters and toys and young reading material. There was a double bed in a corner, and in the closet hung an adult’s clothes.

Completely confused, I backed out and entered what would have been Aunt Aggie’s. The walls were covered in pictures of her children and Uncle Ronald, separately and as a family. I saw items they’d made for Aunt Aggie, like a mom plaque and an embroidery circle with ‘Best Mom’ on it.

I sat on Aggie’s bed and looked at the younger version of my aunt in various snapshots. In most, her kids and Uncle Ronald were always with her. Aggie was laughing in most, and she seemed so happy.

There were pictures of Aunt Aggie as she got older, and in these, she was alone. Sadness hit me at the contrast between her younger and older life. In her closet hung clothes, and on her bedside table was perfume and other items. My eyes lit on something that made me sit up straight. A plaster of Paris sat in the corner of the room with some umbrellas and walking sticks in. It was a leg cast.

How could that possibly be there? Aunt Aggie would have had that on at the time of her death. None of this made any sense. I headed out of the bedroom and downstairs. There was a tiny bathroom on this level, and checking it, I discovered shampoo and all the other items you’d see. But I didn’t expect a man’s shower gel or shampoo. Had Aunt Aggie met someone?

I sat down in the sitting area and took a second glance around. Something bothered me here. There was a knock on the door, and Chatter entered.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“Yeah. This appears to be where Aunt Aggie kept what she thought of as real treasures. Take a look,” I said and wondered if Chatter would notice what I just had.

“Did you clean?” Chatter asked after a few minutes.

“Precisely! There’s no dust. This should have been like the rest of the Manor. But it wasn’t. Why not?”

“Lavender, it means someone’s been here and recently,” Chatter explained.

“Yes, and look at the windows. Those are blackout curtains. Someone could easily have had lights on up here the entire time,” I pointed out.

“We better search out those passageways and rooms you mentioned,” Chatter stated.

“We can’t get to them because they’re rammed full. But that corridor last night. There was something there that jogged my memory. There could be a passageway, but I’m unsure,” I mused.

“We can check it out,” Chatter offered.

“Yeah. Somehow, I thought this would give me some answers. Instead, it’s raised even more questions.”

“Aunt Aggie loved you,” Chatter said, and I nodded.

“I wish she knew how much I’d loved her too.”

“Lavender, I think she did.”

◆◆◆

Minutes later, I stared at the place we’d seen Aunt Aggie’s ghost last night. There was a niggle irritating me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Chatter and I had checked for loose panels or secret doors and did not find anything.

“I don’t get it. Why was Aunt Aggie stood here?”

“Maybe there was no reason,” Chatter suggested.

“No, there had to be. Nothing happening here is random. Someone’s trying to tell me something, but I’m not sure what,” I argued.

“Like what, Lavender?” Chatter challenged.

“I don’t know! If I did, then they’d be no mystery, and I wouldn’t be so confused.”

“Good point,” Chatter agreed.

Why did everything seem like we took one step forward and two back?

Chatter

What Lavender had discovered in the tower had made her withdraw. Callie and the team were all over the place with their cameras and equipment, but Lavender showed little interest. They’d caught a white figure upstairs on the third floor, but it hadn’t been defined enough for identification. The interesting thing they had filmed was a shadow of a tall, broad-shouldered man.

In addition, Callie’s team had discovered several things moving of their own accord, and Callie couldn’t find an explanation for them.

Sin was halfway through the book, and she’d logged all deaths that occurred here and any ghost sightings. So far, there were eight different ghosts the family had seen. As Sin was up to the eighteen twenties, Chatter guessed eight wasn’t bad in two hundred years.

Chatter had left Lavender accessing the programme Sin had used, and she was reading through the Journal herself.

Several times, the Star of Lucia had been mentioned, but they still lacked a description of it. Sin had discovered descriptions of other jewellery the family had owned, though. According to Sin and Lavender, the journal made interesting reading. Chatter was more concerned about the cousin and his claims. What if Lavender had been adopted? She’d lose all this, and he knew that would deeply hurt her.

But she seemed quite content that Rik had been lying. She claimed the birthmark on her arm was one her bloodline shared. Chatter didn’t want to doubt or undermine Lavender’s confidence, but there was the tiniest chance Rik was telling the truth. But then again, if she had been adopted, her own parents would have used that to wrestle the estate from her. No. Rik was incorrect.

So much greed surrounded Lavender. It was surprising she’d turned out the way she had. Chatter had a lot of respect for the strength of her personality. It was hard to stay true to oneself sometimes, but Lavender had managed. Chatter admired her for it and knew it was something he’d cherish over time.

He was heading back to the clubhouse for an hour. A parcel had arrived for him, and Chatter needed to pick it up. It was a gift for Lavender, and he hoped she’d like it. As he rode towards the clubhouse, he saw movement in the trees and slowed. His eyes briefly caught sight of a tall, hulking male before he was past him.

Chatter hit the brakes and turned around, but the figure was long gone. With night falling, Chatter did not want to risk chasing someone in the darkness. It was too dangerous, and he wasn’t sure what traps they’d set out there. He dialled Jinx and told him to keep his eyes opened and, turning, headed back towards Hellfire.

Lavender

Everyone was in bed, including me and Chatter, but my mind wouldn’t shut up. It kept going over everything, and I knew I was missing something. Whatever it was, it was highly important.

Chatter lay beside me, and I was trying to not disturb him, but he shifted and turned onto his side, pulling me closer.

“Switch off,” he murmured.

“Trying,” I replied.

“I can feel your mind churning shit over. What’s bothering you?”

“The dress. I’m convinced it’s a message to me. The lack of dust in the widow’s tower and who the hell is Ronnie, and why do I feel that is the most important part of this?”

“Are you sure Uncle Ronald was dead before you were born?”

“Yes. I am boarding on being illogical and wondering if Ronnie was his ghost, and we used to play together. But I don’t believe in ghosts, even with all this crap happening. I think there’s a logical solution to it,” I stated.

“If you’re not seeing the ghost of Aggie, what are you seeing?” Chatter challenged.

“Good question. I think somebody has images of her and is projecting them,” I replied.

Chatter shook his head. “That’s impossible. Slaughter has been over this Manor several times. If someone else had put cameras or projectors up, we’d have found them.”

“Would we? There’s a lot of hiding places in here,” I refuted.

“It’s not projections, Lavender. I don’t believe in paranormal stuff either, but I’ve seen evidence woo-woo shit does exist,” Chatter disagreed.

“This Aurora Victoria from Rage?”

“She’s the genuine thing. The bridge fall, the lava hitting Rapid City. She knew exactly when the war was coming. Klutz thinks Aurora Victoria also saw who died, but he’s too frightened to ask. Rage is protective of her,” Chatter explained.

“She really is for real?” I asked dubiously.

“No doubt in my head, and I don’t believe in mystical mumblings. But Aurora Victoria is beyond belief.”

“Gah. I need my mind to shut off,” I complained and threw my arm over my eyes in disgust.

“I know exactly how to distract you,” Chatter murmured and kissed me soundly.