When a Gargoyle Awakens (6 page)

“That’s not like him…”

“Grief does strange things to people,” said Holling, authoritatively as Lara floundered.  “You said he was very close to your uncle?”

“Yes, they’ve known each other for years.”

“I expect he doesn’t know how to handle his grief.”

Andrew nodded, but he didn’t seem overly convinced.  “I just wish there was some way to contact him.”

Lara – who was clearly testing the limits of her brain – snapped her fingers.  “Why don’t we report him missing and say he stole some of the family silver?”

“That would draw too much attention,” chastised Holling as Andrew looked at her aghast.

“And he didn’t do anything like that,” said Andrew, disapprovingly.

Holling clapped a hand on Andrew’s shoulder.  “We’ll look for him, quietly.  Don’t you worry about it; I’ll handle everything.  In the meantime, you should get used to living in your new house.”  And preferably, stay the hell out of his way.

Chapter Seven

Bea sneered at the invitation for the fifth time that morning.

“Cordially invited… housewarming… not even dead a month,” she muttered.

Kylie sighed and continued dusting a large hat rack shaped like a giraffe.  Kylie called her Geraldine.

They had received an invitation to a party at Andrew Hardcastle’s new home.  Or, to be more precise, Professor Hardcastle’s old home that now belonged to Andrew.  Kylie assumed that everyone in town had received an invitation.  She already knew from Maggie’s shrieking phone call that her friend had both received one and was going to the party.  Either to be annoying or to steal the silver – she hadn’t decided yet.

On the other hand, Bea was not a happy antique shop owner.  “He doesn’t return my phone calls, but then he wants me to attend a party at his house,” she grumbled out loud.  “His uncle’s barely cold in his grave… well, cold in his urn,” she amended.

It had been three weeks since Professor Hardcastle’s cremation, so Kylie figured by now, he had to be pretty darn cold.  The service had been depressing.  Apart from Bea, Kylie, and Maggie, the only people there were Andrew Hardcastle, Holling and Hardcastle’s icy fiancée, the loathsome Lara.  Kylie was a little disappointed that no one else from town turned up, and she was outright amazed that Gustave was a no show.

“Have you asked about buying some of his antiques?” prompted Kylie.

“Several times,” she admitted, glumly.  “He says he doesn’t want to sell anything at the moment.”

“Nothing?  Not even some of the, oh I don’t know – the statues?”  Kylie hoped she sounded more nonchalant than she felt.

“He says he isn’t sure what he wants to do with anything except for the stuffed animal heads – he’d love to get rid of those - but I don’t want them.  Those hideous things never sell.”

“So you’re not going to the party?”

Bea sniffed.  “No, I need to go to Chicago.  A friend of mine wants me to appraise a piece she just bought, and I haven’t seen her in a while.  So I thought I’d stay with her for a couple of days if you don’t mind watching the shop.”

“Of course not, it’s what you pay me for,” said Kylie, cheerfully.

“I don’t pay you very much,” Bea admitted, bashfully.

Kylie flopped into an armchair.  “Well, I don’t work all that hard.”

Bea chuckled.  “It’s a terrible thought, but I’m glad you had to come and live here.  It’s nice having you around again.  I missed you after you went to live with Magda.”  She shook her head.  “But she insisted that she get a chance to look after you.”

Kylie hid her smile.  Magda was fun in her own, special way.  Magda believed in homeschooling, except she wasn’t all that strict about it and wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about any subject.  Their lessons were mostly on literature – meaning that they both read books and then talked about what they liked most about them.  Plus they went on lots of nature hikes.

“Take care with that Andrew Hardcastle,” said Bea in her most mothering tone.  “Edwin never had a good word to say about him.  Not that he ever had a good word to say about anyone.”

“Edwin?”

“The professor.”

“His name was Edwin?”  How had she not known that?  “Suited him.”

“And I don’t like the look of his friends,” she continued in her best wagging finger tone.  “There’s something not quite right about them.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Chapter Eight

Maggie snagged four mini spring rolls and inhaled them all at once.  The young man currently trying to annex her attention pursed his lips for a few seconds, but he managed to slap the slightly dazed look back on before Maggie noticed.  Disappointed that this hadn’t worked, Maggie crammed five mini quiches into her mouth.  He looked slightly shocked, but he didn’t waver.  Maggie stalked away in a snit, and the young man followed.  If he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging.

Kylie shook her head; she didn’t know whether she was more amused at her friend or the young man.  Maggie had a habit of trying to scare, or at least disgust, men away.  For someone as slim and pretty as her, it was harder than it sounded.

If Kylie acted like that, men would probably just think that was normal for her.  Eating like a pig really was a thin woman’s game.

She had to admit, it was a nice party.  There were professional caterers and the room actually looked like it had been cleaned – it was a world away from anything she could imagine going on there while the professor still lived.

It was a fairly warm night; fairy lights had been hung out on the patio.  Not as far as the garden, though.  No amount of twinkling, pretty lights could compensate for that jungle.

Andrew Hardcastle was quite the host, at turns charming, at turns polite and someone who actually listened and asked follow up questions.  Did Andrew care that people were ignoring the law about picking up dog waste?  Doubtful – but he listened to the head of the town council complain about it all the same.  Shame his fiancée wasn’t quite as charismatic.  She was less of a hostess and more of a decorative bauble.  Not that the men in the room seemed to notice.  While she let out bored little sighs, the men entertained themselves staring at her incredibly low neckline.  It wasn’t fair that she was tall, slim and had enviable tatas. 

With the exception of Bea, Kylie reckoned that the whole town had shown up – even three-quarters of the police force.  The last quarter was an Alsatian called Bob.  Presumably he’d been left manning the station.  Or dogging the station. 

Balancing her plate of food and her glass of champagne, she skirted around George, who owned the grocery store and Myrna, the town librarian.  They were standing next to each other, pointedly not talking or touching.  They’d been having a secret love affair since before Kylie arrived in town.  However, they were determined to keep it a secret.  She didn’t know why.  They were both in their late forties and both divorced – there was nothing stopping them from being together.  But, they were both well liked in town, so everyone played along and pretended they didn’t know.  And everyone knew about them.  If last month's library fundraiser was anything to go by, they’d be making out in a closet before midnight.

There were quite a few people there she didn’t recognize, too.  She chose to stay out of their way.  They were tall, snooty and toned.  They were all cut from the same cloth as Lara and didn’t seem inclined to mingle with any of the townspeople.

The house sure was starting to look good, though.  No offense to the professor, but the uncluttered and clean look suited it.  All the expensive looking paintings and sculptures were still there, but instead of idly lounging on the floor or hiding under old newspapers or acting as hat racks, they were displayed so guests could gush over them.

Kylie, with her hands full, made sure no one was watching and sucked a cube of cheese off her plate right into her mouth.

“Hi, Kylie.”

She almost choked on the cheese as Gary appeared at her elbow.  He didn’t seem to notice.  But then, he was already swaying slightly.  Clearly he was enjoying the champagne a little too much.

“Having fun?” he asked and then continued without waiting for a reply.  “You should have told me you were coming, I would have escorted you.”

Kylie shrugged in what she hoped was body language for ‘get bent’.  “I came with Maggie.”  She looked hopefully in the direction Maggie had disappeared, hoping that pure psychic willpower would have her scampering back to save her.  Yeah, right.

“I was wondering if you wanted to…”

“Gary,” said Kylie, in a pained voice.  Was he really going to ask her out again?  Here?  Couldn’t she get a day off?

“Having fun?” drawled a smooth voice that made her tingle.

Holling appeared in front of them, looking absolutely edible in a well-cut black suit that hugged his wide shoulders and slim waist.  His normally slicked back hair was wavy, perhaps his only concession to the relaxed attitude of the party.  He had been in and out of town numerous times over the past few weeks and Kylie, along with nearly every other woman with a pulse, had shamelessly ogled him.  She had tried a couple of times to accidentally happen to be where he was, but then so had the other women.  When it came to trying to run into him at the grocery store, there was a queue around the block.

“Gary, I think Lara wishes to speak to you about obtaining some lobsters,” he said in a bored way.

Gary’s eyes lit up, and he quickly excused himself.  Kylie forced herself not to sigh.  She wasn’t interested in Gary – of course – but it wasn’t exactly flattering to know that she was less appealing than lobsters.

Holling looked her up and down, and Kylie desperately wished she had a spare hand to smooth her skirt, or her hair or anything else that needed smoothing.  “Enjoying the party?” he asked as his eyes alighted on her very full plate of food.  What was she thinking?  You should never eat at parties.  Damn, delicious food!

“Oh, yes, it’s very nice,” she mumbled.  Perhaps she could pretend she was just holding the food for a friend.  Furtively she pushed her plate onto a bookcase.

He leaned closer to her and Kylie held her breath in nervous anticipation.  “Your skirt is tucked into your underwear,” he whispered.

“Oh?  Oh!”  Kylie quickly righted her dress and wished to every deity imaginable to either make her invisible or strike her down dead.  She didn’t mind which at that moment.

Holling didn’t seem to care.  He scanned the room, disinterestedly.  “You here with a date?”

“Well, I…”  Kylie glanced over at Maggie, who had returned and was currently murdering the buffet table.  Her previous young man was nowhere to be seen and she had attracted a new one with a prominent Adam’s apple.  “I came with a friend.”  Color rose to her cheeks.

“So there is hope for fishy Gary?” he smirked.

The color became a full-on blush.  “I’m single, but no, there’s no hope there.”

Holling nodded.  Kylie had the vague feeling that he was flirting with her.  But it wasn’t the usual kind of flirt, it was more like a gut reaction to anything in a skirt or perhaps a reflex to boredom.

“How long have you known Andrew?” she asked, politely.

“About eleven months.”

“How do you know him?”

He gave her a patient smile.  “Through Lara.  We’ve been friends since we were children.”

“It’s very kind of you to come here and give up your time to help him sort out his house.”

His lips quirked in amusement.  “I take care of my friends.”

“You arrived very quickly after the professor’s death,” she noted.  “Or were you here before then?”

Holling graced her with a chilly smile, and his eyes hardened.  “Excuse me, I believe Lara is trying to get my attention.”  Sure enough, Lara was glaring at them and clicking her fingers together as if she were in a restaurant waiting to be served.  Or at least, as if she were in a restaurant waiting to be served spit soup.

Kylie let out a breath.  Perfect, just perfect.  She had the undivided attention of the hottest guy in the room, and she acted like she was interrogating him.  Not to mention the skirt in the panties incident.  Yeah, there was a reason she hadn’t had sex in so long.  She was pure man repellant.

She downed her drink and snagged another flute of champagne.  The room felt so warm; she started to feel dizzy.  An open patio door called to her, she could feel the breeze reaching toward her, curling around her.

Yes, a bit of fresh air would be good, and perhaps a walk in the garden.

Chapter Nine

“Kyyyyyyyy – hic – lieeeeeeeeee!”

Kylie groaned at the slurred and almost indecipherable call.  She ducked into the overgrown hedge maze and bit her lip as the twigs scraped over her bare arms.

“Kyyyyyyyyyyyyyyllllliiiieeeeeeeeeee!”

It was even louder and even drunker than before.  Lord, God and Superman save her from arrogant, pervy drunks.  Gary had clearly imbibed even more alcohol since they last spoke and had decided to follow her out into the garden.

Gary let out a Ky but then halted, and the unmistakable sound of him hurling into some unsuspecting shrubbery replaced the wailing of her name.  Kylie wobbled slightly on her heels and cursed the third glass of champagne she had indulged in.  Never mind the fourth glass still clutched in her fingers.  Perhaps she ought to have left that in the house.