1
The Catacombs
The candle in my hand shook slightly, the flame flickering in the drafty cavern. In the silence, my heels scraped softly against the stone floor, accentuating the hollowness of this space beneath the castle. I swept my light over the crumbling wall to my right, where skeletal remains jutted from the ancient stone, and a skull suddenly loomed into sight, jaws gaping, lurid in the darkness. I stifled a scream and stepped away, bumping into a form next to me-no skeleton, but a living being. I shouted in surprise. The form moved swiftly past me, and moments later, a light went on, dispelling some of the gloom and revealing these ghoulish catacombs for what they were: a carefully constructed facade.
"How do you like my Halloween display?" asked Derek Corby.
Derek was my employer at Castle Dark, and he had persuaded me to come down early, before we had to perform here for the autumn show, to "familiarize" myself with the space. In other words, to make sure I didn't have a panic attack once the show began. He led me around now, pointing out that the bones were made of plaster, and the cobwebs hanging from the walls and ceiling were carefully placed, meticulous as tinsel on a tree. At the end of the cavern, he assured me, were a spacious and attractive wine cellar and some neatly tended storage rooms.
"It's all for show, Nora. You have to get into the spirit of the thing."
I agreed and thanked him for bringing me down for an early look, but I longed for the main floor, with its blissful sunlight. And I tried not to look at the mournful skull calling to me in a silent scream. On our way to the stairs, I said, "Why do people love being scared, anyway?"
Derek paused on the first step, turning to look at me. "Because it's invigorating. Fear can be a blissful experience."
"Blech. Give me flowers and puppies and happy endings."
Derek laughed. "I think my brother would agree with you, about the happy endings at least."
"Paul would?"
But of course he would, I thought. Paul was a romantic, but Derek and I both knew he hadn't gotten the happy ending he had envisioned with Gen.
Reading my thoughts, Derek said, "He was hoping to have more of a chance with your sister. He would have been willing to try a long-distance relationship."
"Gen was being realistic," I said. "She's a practical person."
I felt defensive on her behalf. She lived in New York, and Paul was determined to stay here in the Chicago region, living in the castle that he loved. He had finally retired from his job in Indianapolis, and much to everyone's delight, he was back in the castle full-time as CFO.
"They would have made a good couple, though," I admitted.
Derek turned back to the stairs and began to climb. "Yes, they would have," he said.
A light appeared at the top of the stairs, and Connie's golden head was visible, her hair floating like a halo around her. For a surreal moment, it seemed that she was Persephone, and Derek was Hades, climbing out of the darkness to be with the woman he loved.
"Where have you guys been?" Connie asked with her usual intensity. "I'm getting lonely."
Derek bounded the rest of the way and wrapped her in his arms. The two of them, recently a couple and paradoxically both beautiful to behold and annoying to be with, were my most frequent companions when I was not in the presence of my own new boyfriend.
I frowned at the thought of John Dashiell. I would think about him later.
Connie peered at me over Derek's broad shoulder. "Nora, you said we could run our lines this morning."
"Yes, that's fine. Should we go on the back patio? It's really nice outside, and I'm craving sunshine after being in the dungeon."
Derek laughed. "A perfectly nice wine cellar."
"Don't drag Nora to your dreary catacombs," Connie reproved. "She thrives in the light, like most living things."
Derek held up his hands. "Two against one. Okay, go practice. I have to talk with Paul." He kissed Connie's cheek and turned away, but not before I saw the worry in his eyes.
I followed Connie down the main hall and out the south entrance to the sunny patio. She looked at me, her face smug after her bout of kissing. "He's so perfect."
"For you, yes."
"And John is perfect for you."
"Yes." I changed the subject. "Derek seems kind of worried. Is it just because of the financial stuff?"
"Yeah, I guess he's brainstorming with Paul about some other income possibilities. I never thought about it before, but the castle is so huge-just the basic maintenance is outrageously expensive."
"That makes sense. I wonder if there's anything we can do to help."
"Derek is proud. He probably wouldn't accept it."
"Hmmm."
Connie fluffed her hair and said, "Anyway. I brought the script, but I guess we can try it without first."
"You never understood our father," I said coldly. "It was never about the money for him. It was about his children-all five of us-and the life he wanted to provide for us."
Connie sneered. "You always thought you had some sort of special bond with Dad, but you weren't his favorite, and you weren't special. You weren't even legitimate. Don't pretend you're like the rest of us."
"I was his favorite," said Dorian Pierce, our newest actor, striding toward us with a slight smirk on his handsome face.
Our friend Tim had left the castle a month earlier to get married and move to Seattle. Derek had hired Dorian at the end of August, and I hadn't yet determined what I thought of him. He always wore a slightly condescending expression, but Connie told me that I was judging him too harshly.
"Are we running lines?" Dorian asked, joining us at the table without waiting for an invitation.
I shrugged and continued with my dramatis persona. "You weren't his favorite, Dorian. I heard the two of you fighting last night. You were screaming at him. And two hours later Mara found him with a knife in his chest."
Dorian's eyes sparkled with malice; he really got into character, I had to admit to myself.
"You know what they say about the person who finds the body. They are often the perpetrators."
"You say that about your own sister?" Connie shouted.
"Aren't you saying the same about me?" Dorian said.
His eyes had darted away from us and begun watching something in the northwest corner of the castle, near the parking area. I followed his gaze and saw Derek and Paul gesticulating, their heads close together. From this distance, they looked sinister.
Dorian stood up suddenly. "We'll have to continue this later," he said as though Connie and I were expected to stop rehearsing, as well. "I have to speak to Derek."
Everything Dorian said was weighted with faux gravitas. Connie rolled her eyes at me and I smothered a laugh.
Connie watched him stride away. "I'll say this for him, he's got a really handsome face."
I shook my head. "His expression is always sarcastic. That ruins it."
"I think that's just his face."
"Your boyfriend is much more handsome," I said.
Connie's smug smile returned. "Like I said, he's perfect. But that doesn't keep me from appreciating the attractiveness of a certain detective who hangs around here."
I looked away. "True. We're surrounded by handsome men."
She heard my tone and leaned forward to touch my arm. "Is something wrong? Is everything okay between you and Dash?"
"Yes, of course. I mean, we've only been dating a couple of months. We're still getting to know each other." I turned back to see that Connie's eyes had widened.
"That's not what you said last month," she objected. "You were practically ready to walk down the aisle. What's changed?"
I sighed, fiddling with the edge of the script that sat in front of Connie. "Back in July, I told him he had to make time for me if this was going to work. He did, and August was amazing, and then Derek talked me into joining the cast of his other play, and now I can't seem to make time for Dash." My eyes met her blue ones. "It's not going over well."
"You have a chance to make things right," she said.
"What? How?"
"He's here," she said.
I looked toward the west wall and saw that four men were now talking. One of them was Detective John Dashiell.
He did not look happy.
2
Dark and Brooding Men
Look at them," Connie said, her face wry. "I miss Tim and his blond hair. Every guy at this castle has dark hair. It looks like the casting call for a Gothic soap opera."
"Or auditions for Mr. Darcy."
Connie laughed. "I mean, how seriously do they take themselves?" She put her chin on her chest and spoke in a low voice. "I'm a guy, and I'm super important and I make decisions that affect the fate of the world."
Now it was my turn to laugh. "I'm so glad you're here, Connie. Life at the castle would be so boring without you. I don't think I would have taken the job if I hadn't met you that first day."
"You fell in love with my energetic personality," she said, batting her eyelashes.
"Your effervescence, more like. Uh-oh-he's coming. I'd better meet him halfway."
She patted my arm and said, "He's crazy about you. Just work it out."
I nodded. My stomach was suddenly full of butterflies. I forced my legs into motion and moved toward John Dashiell, whose eyes were on me. He had a sort of hungry look, which I always found flattering, but today I found it burdensome.
We reached each other and I put my arms around his neck; his wrapped automatically around my waist, pulling me against him.
"Hi," I said, and I kissed him. It was a nice kiss, and I relaxed against him. "I've missed you."
"Me, too." His hazel eyes studied my face. "I suppose you have both practices today?"
"Yeah. We have castle practice after lunch, and then rehearsal at the BC." This was what all the actors called the Blue Curtain community theater.
"Ah." He sighed and let go of me. "Are we still together?"
A blend of fear and anger rose in me. To prevent what seemed an inevitable conflict, I took his hand and led him back to the patio table, where we sat down and faced each other.
"You know we are! Unless you've had a change of heart?"
His eyes narrowed. "You know I haven't."
"Then what are we upset about?"
I tried to smile, but I was on the verge of tears. I turned to see that Connie had disappeared from the table.
"Let's sit down over here," I said.
"I can't stay long," he murmured in a distant voice. "I thought maybe I could have breakfast with you or something, but I interrupted your meeting with Pierce."
"Dorian? I was practicing lines with Connie, and Dorian barged in. And if you had texted me that you wanted to have breakfast, I could have made that happen." I was angry again, but I reached out to touch his arm.
He brooded over that for a while, and I fumed. What was this, high school? This was nothing like the Dashiell I knew. I had always admired him for his quiet maturity. Today he seemed aggrieved for no reason.
I made a mighty effort to change the subject. "What were you guys talking about over there, anyway?"
His eyes flicked away from me. "Nothing much."
I stared at him. "You all looked pretty grim about nothing much."
He shrugged.
A heavy silence fell between us, during which he offered nothing.
"Dash?" I said, feeling helpless.
He rubbed his eyes and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't sleep much, and I didn't have coffee. I'm afraid I'm treating you to a foul mood."
"Not really a treat," I said, my voice light.
"How can I make it up to you?" he asked.
"Tell me about what's bothering you."
He stretched his long legs and studied the tips of his shoes. "I don't see enough of my girlfriend."
"We'll work on that. What else?"
He sighed. "My job is-unsatisfying."
I had wondered about this. Two months earlier Dash had solved two high-profile crimes, catching a stalker and a murderer within days of each other. Life had been exciting in the days before those arrests, and the excitement had lingered for some time afterward.
"Nothing much going on in Wood Glen?"
His lip curled on one side. "Not unless you count a stolen Deer Crossing sign and a string of burglaries."
"The burglaries sound mildly interesting."
He nodded. "Not my case, though."
"Okay. That's a little harder to fix, but we can brainstorm."
He laughed and looked more like himself.
"What else is going on?"
He hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing. And I have to get going. Work awaits, boring or not." He stood up, and I felt a brief burst of desolation.
"Derek says you're welcome at practice anytime. You know where the Blue Curtain theater is located?"
"Yes. I saw a terrible version of Our Town there about five years ago."
"That was before Derek was a director. He's really quite good."
"Hmm." My hair blew in my eyes, and he leaned forward to brush it away with gentle fingers. "I suppose I'll come when I can. I don't know if tonight will work."
"There are lots of little nooks and corners backstage where a person could sneak off to kiss his girlfriend," I said, sending him a significant glance.
"That is the first appealing detail you have offered about this theater."
I giggled, and he hugged me goodbye, kissing my mouth and then my hair. "I'll call you later," he said. "Or text more likely."
"Okay."
I let go of his hand reluctantly and watched him walk away. Moments later Connie materialized beside me.
"Spying on us, were you?" I asked.
"Absolutely. Out the window in the south door. The same window you used to spy on Derek and me when he first kissed me."
"Pretty good view, right?"
She nodded. "Are you okay? That didn't look super positive."
"I've never seen him like this. He was so irritable and short-tempered. He said he hadn't slept well."
"Just a bad day," Connie assured me. "Come on, we'll run our lines again."
We sat at our table once more, but I was still brooding. "I feel like there's something else, something he's not telling me."
"Probably better not to open that door," Connie said. "Just try to move on."
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