Proof of Murder (Beyond the Page Bookstore Mystery #4) - Lauren Elliott Page 0,1
It’s you I have concerns about. You seem to be taking this tall tale a little too seriously.” Addie turned and mischievously grinned at a now blotchy, freckle-faced Serena. “Besides, if it’s so haunted, why wasn’t it included in the annual Ghost Walk tour that was held in the spring?” She chuckled softly as she fit her key in the lock and flung her car door open. “While I’m there,” she called over her shoulder, “I’ll be sure to pick up a copy of The Haunting of Hill House. After all, if the estate is as riddled with ghosts as you say it is, I’m confident I’ll find a copy of it there somewhere.”
“Nice try, but I’m a classic film nut, remember.” Serena’s voice rose in pitch to a warbled quiver. “So I know that’s a movie not a book.”
“Yes . . . and it was based on the book by Shirley Jackson.” Addie grinned over her shoulder at her friend whose face now matched her flaming red hair. Serena’s freckles popped out as they did any time her emotions ran high. Addie wondered if she should tell Serena that it was happening again but had second thoughts about that when Serena snorted and flared her nostrils. It was probably best not to poke the bear anymore this morning, so she bit her tongue, tossed the flyer and her bag—a straw satchel—on the passenger seat of her car, and slid into her seat to the thwack of Serena TEA’s door banging shut.
Addie shook her head at her theatrical friend and inched out of her parking space—and slammed down hard on the brake as a white Lexus LS passed mere inches from her side panel. Her purse flew off the seat and smacked against the console, the contents tumbling haphazardly to the floor. Her hands still tight around the steering wheel, she glared at the car, then took a calming breath and did a double shoulder check. She was certain she’d done that on her first attempt to pull out, but maybe she hadn’t. Sucking in a breath, she tried again.
At the corner of Main Street, she turned right and headed toward Hill Road. When she reached the top, Addie couldn’t miss the large ESTATE SALE and AUCTION sign on the corner of the lot. The red banner placed diagonally across it promised FOUR DAYS ONLY! As she continued driving, she grumbled at the lack of parking. Bentleys, Hondas, and the occasional moped took up every nook and cranny on the street. It wasn’t even 10 a.m. yet, the advertised start of the broker’s preview. She’d had no idea that an auction in little old Greyborne Harbor would be this well attended. Spying a gap in the parking spaces in front of the main gate to the estate that was just the right size for her Mini, she turned on her blinker to claim the spot.
The same white Lexus that had nearly side-swiped her earlier flew past her and maneuvered into the spot she’d already claimed with her blinker! Addie gritted her teeth and growled, sending a dagger glare to the driver as she passed. It was unfortunate that the car’s tinted windows shielded her ability to garner any sense of self-satisfaction from the act.
Addie drove to the end of the street, slipped into a space, and made her way back on foot to number 555 Hill Road. She fleetingly glowered at the Lexus as she walked past and then paused at the imposing front wrought-iron gate. When she forced the rusted gate to open, the air around her seemed to crackle and moan in defiance. She halted briefly at the bottom of the path and scanned the house, which was very much in the style of her own Queen Anne Victorian. She shivered at the faded paint peeling in swaths, the shutters hanging by one hinge, and the overgrown shrubbery clutching at the rotting porch. Dark storm clouds were beginning to move in and the dilapidated three-story, set against the backdrop of the turbulent sky, caused quivers to race up and down her bare arms. She hugged herself tightly as an unexpected icy windblast sucked at her lungs—the wind’s cold hands twisted at her chest, ensnaring her. This certainly hadn’t turned into a day when no jacket was required. Blowing out a sharp breath, she trotted toward the porch steps.
She tried to clear her mind of the tale Serena had shared with her last night of the infamous house. After