Yuletide Peril. Irene Brand
where part of the room had been partitioned into a bathroom accessed from the rear hall.
Although the living room and the bedroom looked as they must have a hundred years ago, the kitchen held modern appliances. There were cabinets below and over the sink and Janice opened one of the doors.
“There’s still some dishes and pans here,” she said, and stepped backward as a mouse jumped out of the cabinet. “Looks like I’ve inherited some livestock,” she said with a grimace.
Lance grinned, surprised that she’d wasn’t scared. His sister shrieked and headed for higher ground when she saw a mouse.
He turned one of the faucets on the sink. “No water, of course,” he said. “I suppose the plumbing was drained when John moved out of the house.”
As Janice’s eyes acclimated to the dark interior, a sense of discouragement swept over her. The carpets on the hardwood floors were threadbare. The upholstered furniture in the living room had been gnawed by vermin. Several layers of tattered wallpaper drooped from the ceiling and fluttered around the walls. Ragged curtains hung over the windows. Stimulated by a strong breeze wafting through a broken window, long strings of cobwebs swayed rhythmically, reminding Janice of puppets on a string.
Lance watched as Janice’s expressions changed from gloom to optimism as she passed from one room to another.
“If this isn’t a sorry mess,” she said once.
After they’d scanned the downstairs rooms, they paused beside a walnut garment tree in the front center hall.
Forcing herself to overlook the bad and recognize the positive, Janice touched the hall tree and said, “I’ve heard of these,” she said. “The hooks were for gentleman to hang their hats, and the mirror helped ladies take a last look at their appearance before they left the house.” She lifted the lid of a narrow bench and a film of dust flew into her face. “This box was used to hold outdoors shoes. Except for dust, it seems in good condition.”
“And it also served as a place to sit on while changing shoes,” Lance said.
“The house itself seems sturdy enough and the furniture is beautiful. I’d like to live here.”
“It will take a lot of hard work,” Lance said.
“I know. But I think it’s worth fixing up. Do you?”
Lance took his handkerchief and dusted a long deacon’s bench in the hallway. He motioned Janice to sit down and he sat beside her.
“Most of this furniture has an antique value, and with time, money and hard work, the house could be turned into a showplace,” he said slowly.
“I don’t know much about antiques, but I’m sure you’re right. When this house has been vacant and isolated for several years, why hasn’t someone stolen this stuff?”
“I told you that a lot of people around here think the house is haunted.”
Eyeing him to see if he was kidding her, she was surprised that he wore a serious expression. Since this was the first amusing thing she’d heard in days, she exploded into a deep, warm laugh. “That’s ridiculous! You don’t believe that, do you?”
Laughter erased some of the tension from Janice’s face, and her green eyes glowed like sunlight shining on ocean waves. Lance was delighted to see her face alive with merriment.
His lips twisted humorously. “If I did, I wouldn’t be sitting here. I didn’t say I believed the house was haunted, but it has that reputation. That may have kept people from stealing everything.”
“That’s my good fortune, I suppose.” Janice looked at her watch. “Let’s look upstairs so we can go back to town. I don’t want to impose on your sister to keep Brooke any longer.”
“She won’t mind,” Lance said, then stood and walked toward a door in the rear hall that must lead to the upstairs. The door was locked.
Disappointed, Janice said, “I’d hoped to see the whole place while we were here.”
“I could break down the door, but you’ll have enough repairs to make without me adding to the list. We can bring a skeleton key and go upstairs next time.”
Next time! Janice glanced at him curiously. Apparently, Lance’s interest in her home wasn’t to be a one-time event. He peered into the kitchen as they walked down the hall. “Let’s see where that leads,” he said, motioning to a small door to the right of the stove.
“It’s a pantry,” Janice said. “A lot of older houses have them.”
A few jars of green beans and some containers of jelly were on the shelves. Mutilated cartons of rice and flour had been riddled by mice or rats and the contents spilled on the floor. Lance opened another door that led to a side porch, where a door in the floor opened into a cellar. A damp, moldy scent met their nostrils when Lance lifted the door on squeaky hinges.
“I’ll check it out,” Lance said. He walked down a few steps and flashed the light around a small, dirt-floored room. “There’s a gas furnace down here,” he reported, “and a water pump. County water is available now so you won’t need the pump, but you will need a plumber to check the water lines.”
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