Skeletons in the Attic (A Marketville Mystery Book 1) Read Online Free
Author: Judy Penz Sheluk
you’d like.”
“Thank you, that would be great. The sooner the better, from the looks of things. I’d also like to discuss the rest of the renovations once I get settled in.” I just hoped it wouldn’t take up the entire fifty thousand dollars. Leith had mentioned that whatever was left over would come to me. It could buy me a little more time to figure out what I was going to do once my year was up. I couldn’t imagine going back to the call center.
“I’ll see how soon I can get the roofers in. As for the other renos, there’s no rush. You can let me know when you’re ready. In the meantime, if you’re up for a drink or dinner—no obligation to discuss business—let me know. It can’t be easy coming to a town where you don’t know anyone.”
“Thank you.” I pulled out my cocoa lip balm, dabbed a bit on my lips, and wondered about the best way to approach Royce. I decided to go full at it. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Not at all. Ask away.”
“Did you happen to know the last tenant?”
A slow grin spread across Royce’s face. “I assume you mean Misty Rivers, psychic extraordinaire. She was convinced the house was haunted, tried to convince your father of the same.”
Just as I had suspected. It wasn’t just an I think it’s haunted . The woman had done her best to mess with my father’s head, and it seemed to have worked, although why he had believed her was another matter entirely.
“Do you believe in such things?” I studied Royce through narrowed eyes.
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told your dad,” Royce said, shrugging his shoulders. “I was born and raised in Marketville, and in the late 1970s, the population would have been roughly 20,000, less than a quarter of what it has today. These houses were built to entice first time homeowners with young families. Folks who couldn’t afford to buy in the city. Back then the building code wasn’t as stringent as it is today, and to be fair, a lot of the technology and energy efficiencies that we now take for granted hadn’t even been developed. Add to the mix that the house has been tenanted for thirty years, with minimal attention paid to upkeep, and there’s bound to be some squeaks and squawks.”
“So the short answer is no.”
That slow grin appeared once again.
“I suppose, Callie, that you’re about to find out.”
Chapter 4
The inside of Sixteen Snapdragon Circle wasn’t much better than the outside. I went around the house, opening the windows to get rid of a musty smell that seemed to infuse every room. Then I went back to the entrance and took stock of my inheritance.
Avocado green and gold linoleum flooring in the hallway carried through to a small eat-in kitchen, the cupboards painted a gloss chocolate brown, the walls sunshine yellow. Harvest gold appliances. A laminate countertop, gold speckles on off-white, a pot ring burned into its scarred surface. A window over the sink overlooked the sagging carport. Welcome back, 1980.
An old memory came to mind. Me, as a little girl, four, maybe five years old, curly brown hair in a messy bob, standing on a footstool and staring out of that very same window. I was wearing a red and white striped apron with tiny heart-shaped pockets. I used to hide tiny pieces of beef liver in those pockets so I could flush the bits down the toilet after dinner. My parents had a strict “eat your dinner or there’s no dessert” policy, and no amount of gravy or fried onions made the liver tolerable to my taste buds.
I closed my eyes, hoping to remember more.
Popped them wide open when I heard a creak in the attic.
A shiver ran through me. I found the furnace control and turned up the heat. To the left of the hallway was a combination living room-dining room. I wondered if there was hardwood underneath the threadbare gold carpet that covered the floor. I kneeled down, lifted up a heat vent, and pulled back a corner to reveal a strip of pale blonde
“Thank you, that would be great. The sooner the better, from the looks of things. I’d also like to discuss the rest of the renovations once I get settled in.” I just hoped it wouldn’t take up the entire fifty thousand dollars. Leith had mentioned that whatever was left over would come to me. It could buy me a little more time to figure out what I was going to do once my year was up. I couldn’t imagine going back to the call center.
“I’ll see how soon I can get the roofers in. As for the other renos, there’s no rush. You can let me know when you’re ready. In the meantime, if you’re up for a drink or dinner—no obligation to discuss business—let me know. It can’t be easy coming to a town where you don’t know anyone.”
“Thank you.” I pulled out my cocoa lip balm, dabbed a bit on my lips, and wondered about the best way to approach Royce. I decided to go full at it. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Not at all. Ask away.”
“Did you happen to know the last tenant?”
A slow grin spread across Royce’s face. “I assume you mean Misty Rivers, psychic extraordinaire. She was convinced the house was haunted, tried to convince your father of the same.”
Just as I had suspected. It wasn’t just an I think it’s haunted . The woman had done her best to mess with my father’s head, and it seemed to have worked, although why he had believed her was another matter entirely.
“Do you believe in such things?” I studied Royce through narrowed eyes.
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told your dad,” Royce said, shrugging his shoulders. “I was born and raised in Marketville, and in the late 1970s, the population would have been roughly 20,000, less than a quarter of what it has today. These houses were built to entice first time homeowners with young families. Folks who couldn’t afford to buy in the city. Back then the building code wasn’t as stringent as it is today, and to be fair, a lot of the technology and energy efficiencies that we now take for granted hadn’t even been developed. Add to the mix that the house has been tenanted for thirty years, with minimal attention paid to upkeep, and there’s bound to be some squeaks and squawks.”
“So the short answer is no.”
That slow grin appeared once again.
“I suppose, Callie, that you’re about to find out.”
Chapter 4
The inside of Sixteen Snapdragon Circle wasn’t much better than the outside. I went around the house, opening the windows to get rid of a musty smell that seemed to infuse every room. Then I went back to the entrance and took stock of my inheritance.
Avocado green and gold linoleum flooring in the hallway carried through to a small eat-in kitchen, the cupboards painted a gloss chocolate brown, the walls sunshine yellow. Harvest gold appliances. A laminate countertop, gold speckles on off-white, a pot ring burned into its scarred surface. A window over the sink overlooked the sagging carport. Welcome back, 1980.
An old memory came to mind. Me, as a little girl, four, maybe five years old, curly brown hair in a messy bob, standing on a footstool and staring out of that very same window. I was wearing a red and white striped apron with tiny heart-shaped pockets. I used to hide tiny pieces of beef liver in those pockets so I could flush the bits down the toilet after dinner. My parents had a strict “eat your dinner or there’s no dessert” policy, and no amount of gravy or fried onions made the liver tolerable to my taste buds.
I closed my eyes, hoping to remember more.
Popped them wide open when I heard a creak in the attic.
A shiver ran through me. I found the furnace control and turned up the heat. To the left of the hallway was a combination living room-dining room. I wondered if there was hardwood underneath the threadbare gold carpet that covered the floor. I kneeled down, lifted up a heat vent, and pulled back a corner to reveal a strip of pale blonde
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