Witch One Dunnit? (Rachael Penzra mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the rest of the house.”  He pointed to a black velvet-covered chain.  It was modestly linked to one wall like something you’d see in a museum, isolating delicate displays from the unwashed public.  “It has pocket doors, too. You have to remember that most of the downstairs is used as a shop.  Your aunt did a marvelous job of achieving a homey atmosphere.”
       We entered the living room.  There was a couch, displaying fancy pillows with tags proclaiming them to be aromatic, carefully enclosed in clear plastic bags.  There were lovely wooden shelves holding books and miscellaneous objects.  The small tables were artfully scattered around the room, holding candles and statues and more, far too much for me to take in at once.  Everything bore a discreet price tag. 
       Suddenly I felt a wave of dizziness, almost pain, making me nauseous.  I put my hand on the doorjamb and stood perfectly still. Nerves, I told myself, not a stroke, not a heart attack.  I’m excited and tired. Almost as quickly as the sensation had struck, it dissipated.  I felt a little panicky, but the feeling didn’t return.
       My guide apparently hadn’t noticed my upset, or had interpreted it as stunned delight.  We continued on to the dining room. I peeked under the sheet covering the table.  It was set with what were obviously expensive ceramic dishes, and the built-in sideboard displayed more items.  The fourth room, what might once have been a library, was filled with fancy soaps and scented oils, more books, more candles. Aunt Josie had maintained an extensive inventory. 
       “I’ll show you the living quarters upstairs,” the little lawyer said, glancing towards the window where the storm threw snow against the glass before swirling away to prepare for another attack.  He hurried up the stairs, with me right behind him.
       “I think you’d better get going before the weather gets any worse,” I told him, panting in his wake.  “I can manage here.  You said all the utilities are turned on, and that’s really all I need.  You can call me and answer any questions I have in the next few days.”
       “Not to worry.  A little snow is nothing new to me.  I’ll show you around a bit, then I’ll be on my way.”  He sounded calm, but he picked up the pace.
       We’d emerged into the upstairs hallway.  There were three bedrooms, a large bathroom, and a room clearly serving as a small living room, complete with its own fireplace.  I ooh-ed and aahh-ed and started back downstairs, feeling like a pied piper as he followed me down, chattering away about the house as he came, determined to do his duty, but definitely wanting to be on his way before he and his junk food were trapped either here or in a motel. 
       With a few last-minute instructions he left me waving good-bye as he hurried out to his truck.  I closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, feeling stunned, almost emotionless. 
       Suddenly, seemingly from out of nowhere, a huge surge of energy filled me and I yelled, “Yes!” leaping into the air with my fist held high.  It was such theatrical a move—and so totally unlike me—it sobered me a little…but only a little.  The house was everything I’d ever desired in a home.  I loved it.  I understood why the codicil in the will had virtually forced me to at least look at the house.  Aunt Josie had known me well enough to understand that while I might have chosen, from far away, to stay with my safe and boring little niche, her dying wish (not to mention all the money) would nudge me into at least giving it a try.  Thank heavens I had.  I couldn’t think of anything that would prevent me from staying at least a year.
       I wandered around the store portion of the house first.  I felt fine.  Whatever had hit me earlier seemed to have been simple fatigue.  The store, I was certain, would be my least personal area, but as I peeked and touched things, I could see