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“I kept the stuff from Patty in an old shoebox. It was in Colorado with me for a long time, and I assume it got packed up with everything when I moved back here to England.”
“Do you remember seeing it get packed?”
“No. I didn’t see anything get packed. Your family handled all of that for me. They’re such good people.”
Brock glances down at his lap. I know what he’s thinking, as if I can hear his thoughts in my own head.
They’re such good people.
Brock is wondering if they truly are.
“I’m not sure I ever unboxed some of those things,” Ennis continues.
“The last thing we want to do is cause you any pain,” I say, “but would it be possible for Brock and me to have a look?”
Ennis takes a sip of his tea. “Of course. I’ll do anything I can to help you find out what actually happened to Patty.” He picks up the bell sitting next to him and rings it.
Havisham arrives quickly. “Yes, sir?”
“Havisham, Mr. Steel and Ms. Pike would like to look through those boxes I have in storage in the basement. Could you make sure they have everything they need?”
“Of course, sir. Will they be staying for dinner?”
“Dinner is at seven,” Ennis says. “You are certainly welcome to stay.”
Brock looks down at his watch. “It’s a little after four thirty now. Thank you so much for the invitation. If we could take a look at the items, perhaps we will be done by seven, and we would love to join you for dinner.”
“Absolutely,” I say. “Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Ainsley.”
“Please, call me Ennis, my dear,” he says. “And there’s no need to thank me. I owe the Steel family so much. The pleasure is truly mine. Havisham, please show our guests to the basement.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
BROCK
This is truly the basement that hell forgot.
Dark and dank and more than a little eerie.
I half expect the ghosts of owners past to emerge from the stone walls.
Rory and I sit in front of a stack of cardboard boxes, an electric heater buzzing next to us.
Rory rubs her hands together in front of it. “I didn’t expect it to be freezing down here.”
“This is an old house. I wonder if it’s been in Ennis’s family for decades. Maybe centuries.”
“I doubt it,” Rory says. “I didn’t get the impression that he comes from a lot of money.”
“True. I didn’t get that impression either. You’re probably right. He purchased this house with money from his earnings from my family.” I sigh. “You can say a lot about my family—and based on recent research, plenty of it isn’t good—but they do take care of their own. Ennis was the first winemaker for Steel Vineyards, and now they’re taking care of him.”
“Why would he want to live in such an old house?”
“Because it’s gorgeous,” I say. “Big and beautiful and very English, I might add.”
Rory laughs. “True.” She scoots a box toward her. “I guess we start.” She takes one of the box cutters supplied by Havisham and slides it under the tape securing the cardboard.
I grab another.
