Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Once I’m sure Caius is gone and the only people in the house are a handful of soldiers and staff, I make my way out of Santos’s bedroom and down the stairs, taking in the dark paneled walls and the stained-glass windows of the foyer that span the full three floors of the house. They filter in the quickly fading sunlight, shining beams of light that look almost otherworldly.
I take a minute to look down from the top of the stairs into the grand entrance of the house. It was restored to look like it had at the height of the Valerian family’s standing in Avarice, back when they had the means and the desire to maintain it. There had been an article in a local architecture magazine about it along with an interview with Brutus Augustine. I remember how annoyed my father was about that.
As I descend the stairs, I hear the kitchen staff working. The large fireplace in the grand living room that usually has a roaring fire is still dark, though. They won’t light that until just before dinner. Mrs. Augustine usually likes to have a cocktail in there beforehand. Although now that she and Caius have moved out, I’m not sure if they’ll be back for cocktails or dinner or how formal Santos will be if it’s just the two of us.
I pass the living room on my way to Santos’s study, which used to belong to his father. I make a point of taking the long way just to make sure the coast is clear, and once I know I won’t run into anyone, I push the door open. I’m glad to find it unlocked, but at the same time, I’m looking over my shoulder as I hurry in. I feel like a criminal for it.
Once inside, I stand with my back against the door and take it in. The lamp on the desk is on. It casts a soft yellow light, and although it’s not bright, it’s enough for me to get a look around.
Boxes waiting to be unpacked are set against the walls and at the foot of the leather sofa against the wall opposite the desk. The bookshelves are only half full. I assume the books that are here belonged to Brutus Augustine because I don’t think Santos has been home to unpack.
At the thought of Brutus, I look up at the portrait hanging over the mantle of the fireplace. It’s about half the size of the one in the living room but in no way small. Brutus Augustine stands staring down at me from his place high above, his gaze no less penetrating than in life, no less threatening. It sends a chill down my spine, and I turn away because I need to get to work.
I assumed Caius would have laid the box he carried down on top of the desk or on a bookshelf, but he hasn’t. I have to pull back the tops of the moving boxes to search for it. I find the lockbox in one of those and carry it over to the desk, looking underneath to see if Santos might have taped the key onto it. That would be too easy though, and he’s smarter than that.
I reach into my pocket for the hairpins I carried down. I’m not bad at unlocking simple locks. It’s how I got in and out of my locked room at college. The girl who had the second room in my building, the only two rooms in the original mansion, was also locked in at night—but she’d had a cell phone. So I’d get out myself, then unlock her door in exchange for the use of her phone.
I never learned the reason for her confinement, but I know she hated her family and in those two years, she only had visitors a handful of times. It’s not like she and I became friends though. Neither of us wanted the other in our business. We had an arrangement. I let her out. She let me use her phone. Once I was finished calling my brother, she’d leave the building. I don’t know where she went, if she managed to get off the property or what, but I didn’t care. It had nothing to do with me.
I kneel down to examine the lock, twisting the pins to ready them as I do. It shouldn’t be too hard, and I wonder what I’ll find in the box. Caius made it seem like it was important enough to have a look, although part of me is afraid they’ll be pictures of the crime scene. I don’t think Santos would keep those though. Why have a reminder of how someone you loved was murdered?
Caius had mentioned pen pals. I am assuming I’m going to find letters between Santos and the girl, and there’s a part of me that wants to see those. I want to know the girl he loved so much he committed murder to avenge her death and set into motion what happened next.