building and large bay windows overlooking the street.”
She stared at the color images and smiled. The house looked like an illustration from a children's fairy tale novel, painted an attractive shade of teal blue with brilliant yellow gingerbread trim and pale green eaves. Eva sighed; entranced by the photographs until she remembered this was the next assignment for the people surrounding her.
She handed the pages to the young man seated at her left, not meeting the boy's over-bright eyes. Ethan Benecorte was one of the resident hi-tech engineers of NADGEL. He wouldn't look at the photographs and think how pretty the building was, despite its attractiveness. Instead, his fast-paced mind would wonder where to string infrared cameras and endless yards of electrical wiring.
“Unfortunately, Rebeka Mendelssohn died soon after the house was completed, leaving her husband to raise their three small daughters. A motorcar struck the youngest child, Sarah, in the front drive of the home. She spent the next fifty years of her life confined to the tower room overlooking the main street.”
Brice's comment brought a commiserating sigh from the frail woman sitting to his right, her birdlike features filled with sadness.
“The middle child, Ruth, was the toast of the town. She was a beautiful débutante, and the apple of everyone's eye.”
There was another shuffling of pages as Brice handed another stack of photographs around the table. This time, the images those of a serious faced man seated with a plump woman and three ever more solemn young women of varying ages.
“Ruth married well and, as was customary of the era, went abroad for her honeymoon. Her husband was a well-established Floridian banker who granted his young wife everything her heart wished. William and Ruth Chapman were returning from their honeymoon when their ship struck an iceberg and sunk.”
“Dear Lord,” Eva muttered and all eyes turned toward her. Guiltily, she shifted in her seat and handed the copies to the next investigator. “There’s one daughter crippled for life and the other drowning in the north Atlantic in the most famous shipping disasters recorded. What, pray tell, happened to the oldest?”
“Marian appears the most fortunate.” Brice heaved a long sigh, his eyes wide and massive behind the thickness of his lenses. “She wasn't the toast of the town or rambunctious. After the death of her father, she became an heiress and prospective beaus sought her out, perhaps solely for her money.”
Deborah tut-tutted beneath her breath, the sound nearly birdlike, as the woman was herself. Her graying head bobbed as she screwed her eyes up tight, her features skewed into a grimace of thought.
“That appears to be the unfortunate curse of a pretty girlie with lots of money.” She tittered, and each word sounded more like a needle scraping across the vinyl of an old record.
….understatement
Eva stifled a smile at the whisper echoed so closely to her ear. Oddly enough, she found she missed Reese's obnoxious company the past few days.
….miss me?
She nodded, not wanting to draw attention, and bit her lower lip. A chill shot down the side of her neck, tickling briefly before she glanced at Lucien. Eva noticed he had turned on his heel and, if his expression was anything to judge by, was gracing her brother with the familiar so-you're-back-again looks.
….think he misses me?
“Don't hold your breath.” Eva muttered, pretending to scratch away at her notes. There was the unmistakable sound of laughter filling her ears, and she pulled at the offending lobe while she listened to Brice's lecture.
“Marian never married and inherited the house in the early twenties. Ruth and she stayed at the home, unmarried and reclusive. Sometime, before Ruth's own death, Marian willed the estate to a close friend. In the early eighties, the grandchildren of the owners converted the building into a prosperous bed and breakfast.”
A bed and breakfast equaled cozy and quaint, Eva notated. As she remained studiously bent over her notepad, she was vividly aware Lucien had moved from the windows. His steps were silent on the carpeted floor as he walked to the far end of the conference room. He folded his arms across his chest and his features appeared paler and more serious behind the darkness of the shades.
“What have the owners reported about the occurrences at the house?”
Ethan bounced with the eagerness of a young puppy in his seat, constantly fidgeting and moving restlessly. Eva gained the impression he had restrained the effort to raise his hand, as if he had been present in a class lecture.
“Over the past