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“How is the migraine, or was that an excuse not to stay up all night and stare out at a window with me?”
Amelia looked puzzled. “I'm feeling better... What window?”
“I saw something last night,” he replied. “A shadow near my window. I thought it might have been a person, but I can't be sure.”
“Finn Wright,” Amelia said. “Has the wise-cracking Floridian finally fallen foul of paranoia?”
“No,” Finn scoffed. “But a very real killer might be here, and I didn't like the idea of him looking in on me while I slept. In any case, I...”
Their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a man carrying a tray laden with breakfast foods—eggs, toast, fresh fruit, and a steaming pot of coffee. He looked to be in his late fifties, with graying hair and a humble demeanor.
"Good morning," the man said with a polite nod. "I'm Frederick. I assist Lady Ferguson with the house. She has instructed me to help in any way possible."
"Finn Wright. And this is Amelia Winters. Pleased to meet you," Finn responded, shaking Frederick's hand.
Frederick began serving them breakfast, his movements efficient but not rushed. "I trust you both slept well?"
"As well as one can expect, considering," Amelia said with a wry smile.
Frederick returned the smile with a knowing look. "Yes, the house has that effect on people, especially during storms."
Finn glanced around the large room, noting its faded grandeur. "It's a big place for just Lady Ferguson and you. Are there other staff?"
"Most of the staff come in the morning by boat, do their duties, and leave before sundown," Frederick explained as he poured coffee into Finn's cup. "No one stays overnight. Lady Ferguson doesn't mind, but it does worry me sometimes. I myself have offered to stay more permanently, but the Lady knows my wife would hate the idea of staying here, and she does not wish to split us apart. It is a worry, though, the Lady being here on her own."
"Worry you? Why?" Finn asked, intrigued.
"Well," Frederick hesitated, looking uncomfortable for the first time, "the island has a history, and some of the locals are quite superstitious. They'd rather not be here at the house after dark. You know Lord Ferguson died here several years ago. He fell down the master staircase. But some think he was pushed. The locals think it was the house that did it."
“I've never heard of a house killing someone,” Finn said, looking at Amelia. “Can you imagine the size of the jail they'd have to build?”
Amelia raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "May I apologize for my colleague.”
“No problem,” Frederick replied. “It's good to have someone around here who has a sense of humor.”
“It does seem odd, though,” Amelia said. “That in the 21stcentury people are so frightened of a place due to ghost stories."
"Maybe," Frederick conceded. "But this place has a way of getting inside your head. It makes you see things, hear things."
"Like banshees and hidden folk?" Finn asked, only half-joking.
Frederick's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Those are just stories to scare children. But there's an energy here that even grown men don't want to challenge."
Finn exchanged a glance with Amelia. They both knew better than to dismiss local knowledge, especially when it aligned so closely with their own experiences. Even if there was almost always a conventional explanation, beliefs went a long way to motivating people into incredible, or terrible, acts.
"Thanks for bringing breakfast, Frederick. It's lovely," Amelia said, breaking the silence.
"Yes, thanks," Finn echoed, pushing away his empty plate. "I could definitely get used to that sort of thing, but then none of my Hawaiian T-shirts would fit, and that would be a damned shame. We've got a long day ahead of us."
Frederick nodded. "Of course. Lady Ferguson mentioned that she'll have someone show you to the crime scenes after breakfast. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I shall be here until about 5PM."
With that, Frederick retreated from the room, leaving Finn and Amelia alone again.
“Are we going to get that 'this place is so spooky, don't stray from the path' spiel every time we speak to someone here?” Finn asked.
“Like I told you before, Finn,” Amelia said. “Whether any of the stories are true, the point is that people believe in them enough, and that affects their behavior. It can make otherwise sane people make strange choices.”
“But could it make someone kill?” Finn asked.
