Read Online The Lake House by Kate Morton - Free Book Online Page B

“what with all the smugglers’ tunnels pitted along the coast. Did you run around the headland?”
    â€œThe woods,” Sadie replied. She explained briefly about Ramsay, how he’d gone missing and she and Ash had been forced to leave the path to find him.
    â€œSadie—”
    â€œI know, Granddad, the woods are thick and I’m a city-slicker, but Ash was with me, and it was just as well we went looking because when we finally caught up with Ramsay he’d got himself stuck down a hole in an old jetty.”
    â€œA jetty? In the woods?”
    â€œNot right in the woods, it was in a clearing, an estate. The jetty was by a lake in the middle of the most incredible overgrown garden. You’d have loved it. There were willows and massive hedges and I think it might once have been rather spectacular. There was a house, too. Abandoned.”
    â€œThe Edevane place,” Louise said quietly. “Loeanneth.”
    The name when spoken had that magical, whispering quality of so many Cornish words and Sadie couldn’t help but remember the odd feeling the insects had given her, as if the house itself was alive. “Loeanneth,” she repeated.
    â€œIt means ‘Lake House’.”
    â€œYes . . .” Sadie pictured the muddy lake and its eerie avian population. “Yes, that’s it. What happened there?”
    â€œA terrible business,” Louise said, with a sad shake of the head. “Back in the thirties, before I was born. My mother used to talk about it, though—usually when she wanted to stop us kids from wandering too far. A child went missing on the night of a grand party. It was a big story at the time; the family was wealthy and the national press paid a lot of attention. There was a huge police investigation, and they even brought down the top brass from London. Not that any of it helped.” She slipped the last toy into place and folded the box shut. “Poor lad, he was little more than a babe.”
    â€œI’ve never heard of the case.”
    â€œSadie’s in the police,” Bertie explained. “A detective,” he added with a lick of pride that made her wince.
    â€œWell, it was a long time ago, I suppose,” said Louise. “Every decade or so the whole thing rears its head again. Someone calls the police with a lead that goes nowhere; a fellow comes out of God knows where to claim he’s the missing boy. Never makes it further than the local papers, though.”
    Sadie pictured the dusty library, the open books on the desk, the sketch, the portrait on the wall. Personal effects that must once have meant something to someone. “How did the house come to be abandoned?”
    â€œThe family just left. Locked the doors and went back to London. Over time people forgot that it was there. It’s become our very own Sleeping Beauty house. Deep in the woods like that, it’s not the sort of place you go near unless you’ve got good reason. They say it was lovely once, a beautiful garden, a great big lake. A sort of paradise. But it was all lost when the little lad disappeared into thin air.”
    Bertie sighed with deep satisfaction and brought his hands together in a soft clap. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, that’s just the sort of thing I was led to believe I’d find in Cornwall.”
    Sadie frowned, surprised by her usually pragmatic grandfather. It was a romantic story, to be sure, but her police instincts quivered. No one just disappeared, thin air or otherwise. Leaving Bertie’s reaction for another time, she turned to Louise. “The police investigation . . .” she said. “I take it there were suspects?”
    â€œI suppose there must’ve been, but no one was convicted. It was a real mystery from what I can remember. No clear leads. There was a huge search for the boy, an initial theory that he might merely have wandered off, but no trace of him