Too Good to Be True Read Online Kristen Ashley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Funny, Paranormal, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 127368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
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“It’s more than odd. It’s what Brittany tried to do, attempting to frighten us, playing on the ghost stories. Except whoever this is, is not only doing it under our noses. They have the codes to secure rooms and safes.”

“We’re changing all the codes,” Richard said instantly.

“Yes, we are,” Ian agreed.

And then he carried on.

“And until we figure this out, I don’t want any of the women in this house alone and always carry your phone. Mum, take the women somewhere then text me where you are. Dad. Danny. You’re with me.”

And on that, he marched out.

Thirty-Four

THE PORT ROOM

Lady Jane, Portia and I were in the Port Room.

Portia and I were watching mindless TV. Lady Jane was playing solitaire on her phone.

It had been hours since I told Ian about the flute. Lady Jane had asked for lunch to be served up there, and then she’d ordered up popcorn, which Portia and I had decimated.

Now, it was getting late, and my relief was extreme when, finally, the door opened and Ian, Daniel and Richard walked into the room.

“I’ve talked to Bonnie,” Richard said immediately to his wife. “We’re going to have an informal dinner in the Viognier Room this evening.”

“Good idea,” Lady Jane replied, putting her hands to the arms of her chair and pushing up to her feet. “When?”

“Same time. Seven fifteen,” Richard told her.

I looked to my phone.

It was six forty-four.

“I’m going to freshen up,” Lady Jane murmured, and swept from the room, Richard following.

“Me too,” Portia said, hopping up. “See you at dinner,” she bid, and she, too, left, Daniel trailing.

Ian came in and folded beside me.

I grabbed the remote, turned off the TV, then shifted my attention to him.

He raked his hand through his hair, which made some of it fall to his forehead in a way that made him appear boyish and cute, a new look to be listed among many I considered my favorites.

I had no time to enjoy how adorable he looked.

I demanded, “Talk to me.”

“We found things,” he told the coffee table. He turned to me. “A lot of things.”

My blood ran cold.

“What things?”

He settled deeper into the couch and twisted my way.

“To preface this, quite a bit of the top floor is storage. If we didn’t have so much room to put things, the Alcott family as a whole over the generations would be considered hoarders. Aunt Louisa’s work could be so thorough because she had generations of Alcott debris to sift through. Over the years, very little was discarded.”

“All right,” I said.

“Therefore, we found a pair of velvet slippers sitting beside the bed in the Jacaranda Room. They’re monogrammed. WAA. William Albert Alcott.”

“Oh shit,” I mumbled. “Was that his room?”

“It was,” he confirmed. “And in the wardrobe of the Dahlia Room, Rose’s orange dress, the one she was wearing the night Dorothy died, was hanging there.”

Good Lord.

I shivered at learning that and asked, “Was that Rose’s room?”

He nodded. “Yes.” Then he carried on, “In the Smoking Room in the northwest wing, we found a pipe that isn’t usually there, next to a silver Cartier pen. I don’t know about the pipe, though I’ve seen pictures, and he did smoke one, but the pen is David’s. It’s also monogrammed. It’s usually kept in the Whisky Room, and it’s still used. However, Dad didn’t notice it missing.”

Ulk.

“Okay,” I prompted.

“There was also a framed picture of Joan, holding a baby, who would be George, my great-grandfather, set in the nursery.”

How disturbing!

“God,” I breathed.

“And an old-fashioned lady’s hat, presumably Virginia’s, was sitting on a sofa in the Morning Room in the northeast wing. To my understanding, that being where she spent a lot of her time, it being situated all the way across the house from the Smoking Room, where David normally spent his time.”

“Fuck,” I said.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “We’ve made the decision to leave everything where it is. In order not to raise suspicion, we only alerted Stevenson to help us search. He’s going to discreetly inventory the house. He’ll recruit Christine to help. The rest of the staff won’t be told what’s happening. I’ve forwarded staff records to my investigators in London so they can be thoroughly researched, and one is coming up tomorrow to have a look at things. I’m afraid I’m going to have to find a way to sneak her in. I don’t want any of the staff to know what she’s doing.”

“So you think it’s an inside job.”

Another nod. “We also inspected the staff corridors and stairwells. They don’t clean those and some of them, which should not be in use at all, those being the ones to the storage areas, have had the dust on the treads unsettled. Only those who live or work here know how to navigate that network of passages through the house. At the very least, no one would have access to them unless they were in the house, specifically the primary entry points, those being belowstairs. It has to be someone who has access and understanding that they’re there to be found…and used.”


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