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“I think there’s someone in there,” I whispered.

Mac put himself between the door and me. “Stay back,” he said and held his arm out.

You stay back,” I hissed and grabbed for the doorknob.

We were leaning into one another, jockeying for position in front of the door.

“Can’t you just be my girlfriend?” Mac whispered. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I can take care of myself.” I felt like a fourteen-year-old arguing for a later curfew.

Mac’s face softened. “I know that, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to protect you.”

“It’s probably just the wind.” I released the doorknob and let Mac take the lead.

Mac put his finger to his lips and slowly, quietly turned the knob. We both peeked through the crack. I couldn’t see much with Mac blocking most of the opening. It was dim inside because the curtains were still closed, but enough light leaked in that I could see the room was empty. I pressed Mac’s shoulder to let him know that we should go ahead.

He slowly pushed the door open and we stepped inside. I went to the window and opened the heavy curtains. They scraped loudly along the rod, and light flooded the room.

I jumped when I heard, “Oh, it’s you.”

Vi walked out of the bathroom with her hand to her chest.

“You two scared me to death,” she said. Her finger pointed threateningly.

We scared you?” I said. “What are you doing here?”

Mac crossed his arms and glowered but let me deal with my aunt.

“Looking for clues, of course.” Vi matched Mac’s stance.

“What are you talking about? We’ll examine the room.” My voice rose to that shrill tone I hated. “We’re trained professionals.”

Mac waded into the conflict. “Ms. Greer, you can’t be in here. You’re interfering with a crime scene,” Mac said, in a much calmer tone than I was using.

Vi sniffed. “It’s not like there was any crime scene tape across the door. How was I to know . . .” She stopped when she saw the double glare we sent.

“Okay, okay.” She held her hands up. “Wally said you were talking to the Garrett ladies and I decided I’d come take a look.” She crossed her arms again. “I might be able to help. I might be able to sense something you two miss.”

Mac shook his head, and took a deep breath.

“Vi, you really need to leave, now,” I said and edged closer to Mac in case he wasn’t as calm as he looked. Vi could infuriate even a meditating monk.

“It’s fine, Clyde,” Mac said. “Let her look.” He waved an arm to encompass the room.

Violet grinned and my mouth must have dropped open because he looked at me and shrugged. “It’s too late now to protect any evidence, we already collected what we could, and we don’t have a crime scene team on the way. Maybe she’ll find something.”

This was so unlike Mac, I wondered if he’d been possessed by a friendly ghost.

“No touching.” Mac pointed his finger at her and tilted his head until she nodded.

“I’ll just look,” she said and rubbed her hands together.

I opened the rest of the curtains and the chamber brightened. Cheery yellow walls with blue toile accents on the bed and upholstery made for a bright and feminine space. A small couch and a comfy-looking chair sat near the window, a low white dresser with a mirror sat across from the window, and the reflected light made the area warm and friendly. I wondered if this was Clarissa’s touch or if it had been decorated when she moved in. I thought Wally had said that the turret hadn’t been used in years due to the ghost story.

The three of us looked around the room, which was in a bit of disarray. Did Clarissa always leave it this way? Or had her murderer been looking for something? As Linda had said the night before, shoes were tossed everywhere, and clothing was draped over the couch and chair. The bed had not been made—maybe Clarissa didn’t allow housekeeping to come up here and was too busy firing people to make it herself. I went into the bathroom to see if there was anything we had missed the night before. I stopped at the doorway and swallowed. There was still blood on the floor.

I stepped around the stain and went to the sink. Clarissa had left a huge array of makeup spread out on the counter. Eye shadow and foundation shared space with about ten pairs of false eyelashes stacked in a corner and a small basket of lipsticks. In contrast to her clothing, it seemed she kept her makeup well organized.

I opened the mirror over the sink and found birth control pills, acetaminophen, toothpaste, bandages, and a bottle of Valium. It didn’t seem like she’d been taking that on the couple of occasions I saw her.

It all appeared ordinary and I wasn’t really surprised. I doubted we would find the answer to her death among her belongings. I thought that the quickest way to find the killer would be to trace everyone’s movements from the evening before. There was only one way into this room—hopefully someone saw who came up here besides Clarissa.

Mac and Vi were still looking around in the main bedroom when I came out. They turned toward me and I shook my head.

“I’m not finding anything useful here,” Mac said. “She certainly wasn’t a very neat person.”

“Unless the killer did this to make it look like she was a slob,” Vi said.

She was examining a tall bookcase that sat on the wall opposite the door. It was built in and a different style from the white bed and dresser. Its dark wood and intricate scrollwork made me think it was probably original to the room.

Vi ran her hand over the carvings, while Mac’s lips pressed into a white line. She was ignoring the “no touching” rule.

“Hey,” Vi said. She pushed her finger against one of the scrolls and the bookcase swung away from her like a door.

“What did you do?” Mac said and took three strides over to where she stood gaping at the dark passage that had appeared out of nowhere.

I hung back, half expecting a mummy to lurch out at us, shredded linen dragging.

“I just pushed this little button thingy,” she said. “It looked different from the other ones.” She pointed to a small round carving in the center of a scroll. It looked the same to me, except it stuck out just a touch more.

We peeked into the opening and saw only darkness.

“Is it storage? Or another closet?” I said. “Didn’t women have huge dresses back then? Maybe this is some kind of cedar closet.”

Mac turned the flashlight on and shone it into the void. A few feet from the opening, the floor dropped off. He stepped forward and his light bounced off the walls, finally resting on a set of steep steps.

Vi said, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

14

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Of course, the castle has a secret passageway. And, of course, Vi would be the one to find it. I peered into the dark. After the first five steps, there was only inky black. I took the flashlight and shone it up toward the ceiling, where heavy cobwebs hung in the corners as if the stairs had not been used in decades.

Vi charged ahead and motioned for Mac to follow.

“Wait, Vi,” I said and grabbed her arm. “We don’t know where it leads and there’s no light.”

She shrugged off my hand and turned toward me. “How are we going to know where it leads unless we go down those steps?” She put her hands on her hips and looked at Mac for backup. “The flashlight is bright enough to show us the stairs.”

I knew she was right. We’d been assuming the killer could only come in through the one door, but if this stairway led to another room, then maybe more people had access than we thought.

I felt my shoulders slump. “Okay, but let Mac go first, Vi. I don’t want you breaking a hip.”