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“I agree with you,” Dickce said. “At our age, though, I don’t really think we need to be doing all the cleaning and organizing. We can get help for that.”

“I’d already thought of that,” An’gel said. “Give me credit for some sense. I’m no more keen on clambering around over things and risking a fall than you are. I’d like to keep my bones intact.”

“With you, I’m never completely sure,” Dickce said. “You’re inclined to forget your age sometimes and get into things that you shouldn’t.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” An’gel retorted. “Let’s face it, Sister, we’re exactly alike in that regard.” She paused for a moment. “I suppose I simply don’t want to admit I’m an old woman, with more time behind me than I’ve got ahead of me.”

Dickce winced. “Don’t go getting morbid on me, for heaven’s sake. After all, I’m only about four years behind you.”

“As you remind me quite often,” An’gel said.

Dickce did not reply, and An’gel did not say anything further. They waited in silence for Benjy’s return.

An’gel checked her watch, and though it seemed an eternity until Benjy reentered the front parlor, it was probably no longer than six or seven minutes.

“Marcelline was back in the kitchen.” He paused near An’gel’s chair. “She told me that there is a basement, used mostly for storage. She keeps some canned goods down there, old furniture, things like that. She thinks it runs under most of the house, too.”

An’gel smiled. “Excellent. I think an investigation of the basement is in order.”

“That will have to wait,” Benjy said. “Marcelline looked for the key. It’s usually kept there in the butler’s pantry. The door to the basement is there. The key was missing, though, and she doesn’t know where it is.”

“That’s interesting,” Dickce said. “Someone has taken the key to keep others out of it. No investigation.”

“We’ll have to ask Mary Turner about it,” An’gel said. “Did you happen to ask Marcelline where Mary Turner is?”

“She told me Mary Turner has gone into town to pick up more food,” Benjy said. “Because of the additional people who will be needing breakfast the next few days. She hadn’t left long before I talked to Marcelline in the kitchen, according to her, so it will be a while before she gets back.”

“And Henry Howard is gone until sometime this evening,” An’gel said. “Then we have no choice but to wait.” She felt thwarted. She really wanted to get into the basement and dig around in it and didn’t want to have to wait.

“I need to go check on Peanut and Endora,” Benjy said. “They’ve been alone in the room for probably half an hour now. They’ll be getting restless. Do you think it would be okay to bring them into the house?”

“I think so,” An’gel said. “Mary Turner and Henry Howard are both fond of animals.”

“I think as long as we keep an eye on them and don’t let them scratch up anything, it should be fine,” Dickce added. “Besides, I’d like to take them through the house and see how they react.”

Benjy frowned. “I don’t want to frighten them.”

“No, I don’t either,” An’gel said. “Dickce has this idea that animals are supposed to be sensitive to otherworldly presences and thinks they’ll react if there is one present.”

“I’ve read that, too,” Benjy said.

“If they act like they’re afraid of anything,” Dickce said, “of course we won’t force them to stay. It would be a shame for them not to be able to come in the house, though.”

“I’ll go get them, and then we’ll see how they react,” Benjy said. “Back in a few minutes.”

Moments after Benjy left the parlor, Marcelline came in.

“Beg pardon, Miss An’gel, Miss Dickce. I was wondering if y’all would like something to drink, like tea or coffee? And maybe a little something to nibble on? I just baked a lemon loaf cake.”

Dickce smiled. “That sounds wonderful, Marcelline. I sure would love to try your lemon loaf cake. How about coffee to go with it, An’gel? Or would you rather have tea?”

“Coffee is fine,” An’gel said. “Thank you, Marcelline. It’s thoughtful of you to offer.”

“My pleasure, ma’am,” Marcelline said. “I’ll be back in a jiffy. Coffee’s almost ready, and I’ll slice up the cake.” She hurried from the room.

“I don’t know what Mary Turner will do when Marcelline decides to retire,” An’gel said.

“The same thing we’ll do when Clementine decides to retire,” Dickce said. “Feel like we’ve lost our rudder.”

“What a depressing thought,” An’gel said. “I will feel really old then, because she’s younger than we are.”

Peanut rushed into the room, woofing happily at the sight of An’gel, who never failed to make a fuss over him. She did so now, and Peanut rested his head on her knee. He gazed adoringly up at her while she stroked his head and told him how handsome and clever he was.

Benjy, carrying Endora, walked into the room moments later. He resumed his seat near Dickce, and Endora jumped from his arms to climb into Dickce’s lap. She accepted Dickce’s stroking as her due and meowed to encourage its continuance.

“Did they show any signs of hesitation or fear when you came by the stairs?” Dickce asked.

“No, ma’am,” Benjy said. “They’ve been fine since the moment we walked into the kitchen.”

“I think the true test will be when we take them upstairs,” An’gel said. “Other than the business with the door, we haven’t experienced anything except on the stairs and on the second floor.”

“So you’re admitting that animals might be able to sense spirits?” Dickce said.

“Not necessarily,” An’gel said. “We’ll have to see what, if anything, happens.”

Marcelline interrupted the discussion by rolling in the tea cart. “Here we go,” she said as she brought the cart to a halt near An’gel’s chair. “Would you like me to serve?”

“Thank you,” An’gel said, “but we’ll do that.”

Marcelline nodded and turned to go. Then she turned back, her expression hesitant. “Miss An’gel, I couldn’t help overhearing what y’all were talking about.” She gestured toward Peanut, sniffing at the cake slices atop the tea cart, and Endora, resting in Dickce’s lap.

“That’s all right,” Dickce said. “Do you have something to tell us? Please do.”

“Well, it’s about Miss Mary’s little dog,” the housekeeper said. “He died a few months ago. He was old, and Miss Mary’d had him since he was a pup, before she and Mr. Henry got married. Anyway, that little dog, there were times when he wouldn’t go up or down those stairs to save his life.” She shook her head. “Miss Mary’d have to carry him, and he’d whimper the whole time.”

“Other times he was fine?” An’gel asked.

“Sure was.” Marcelline nodded. “He’d run up and down the stairs without a care in the world. Until he got too old and crippled, that is. It always gave me the chills when he wouldn’t go near those stairs without being afraid of whatever was there the rest of us couldn’t see.” She shivered suddenly. “I felt it myself. Coldest feeling I ever had.”

An’gel took hold of Peanut’s collar to keep him from investigating the enticing smells from the cart any closer. “When did this start? The cold on the stairs, I mean.”

Marcelline shrugged. “I don’t rightly know. Ever since I’ve been working here, and that’s a mighty long time. There’s somebody else occupying this house besides us living folks, that’s all I can tell you.” She turned and walked out of the parlor.

CHAPTER 15

Dickce felt both chilled and excited by Marcelline’s parting words. Her own experiences with the unexplained at Riverhill notwithstanding, Dickce had tried to maintain a stance of intelligent inquiry about the whole business. Granted, she and An’gel had not personally encountered another situation like the one at Cliffwood before, though friends of theirs in Athena and other places had occasionally owned up to odd goings-on in their old houses. An’gel had always been the one who refused to give much credence to the existence of lingering spirits while Dickce was more willing to believe that some things couldn’t be easily explained away. Dickce did not doubt the housekeeper firmly believed that a spirit or a revenant of some sort remained at Cliffwood from a time in the distant past.