Read Online The Legend of Sleepy Harlow by Kylie Logan - Free Book Online
Authors: Kylie Logan
Ads: Link
thinking.
“And she always set the lamp on the window ledge. Lucky for us, my office wasn’t touched by the fire and this part of the building is original. I put the lamp out every time I walk in. I know it’s silly, but hey, force of habit! When my grandparents took over the winery, that was the first and last thing they did every day. And my parents, too. In fact, when Mom and Dad retired to Florida, they told me never to forget to put out the lamp. Nobody knows when Great-Grandma Carrie started the tradition and nobody knows why. But it can’t hurt anything.”
“It’s really kind of nice,” I told her. “It keeps you connected with the past and with the family.”
“And it reminds me that no matter what that idiot Noreen did, I’m still the boss around here.” Fists on hips, Kate did a turn around the office. “It doesn’t look like anything was touched,” she said. “Noreen can thank her lucky stars for that. If I saw anything messed with in here, I’d get Hank back over here in a heartbeat and have him arrest her camouflaged butt for breaking and entering.”
“And I wouldn’t blame you in the least. In fact, I was surprised when you didn’t.”
Kate tried to control a smile. It didn’t exactly work. “Don’t tell anybody, okay? Most people around the island are convinced I’m as hard as nails. I’d hate to burst their bubbles. Besides, what use is it for them to be thrown in jail? I’d rather have them over at your B and B, with you charging them the fortune you charge and them not being able to get close to the one place they’re just itching to investigate. That’s real revenge!”
While Kate was busy checking every corner of the office, I went to the window to look over the lamp. I like antiques. I own plenty of them. I knew this one wasn’t unusual, and at a flea market, it wouldn’t have sold for more than fifty dollars, in spite of its age. But the fact that it belonged to Kate’s great-grandmother and that it was involved in such a charming family ritual made the lamp special.
It was a foot and a half tall and made of clear glass, and the kerosene that had once gone into the bulbous bottom part of the lamp had evaporated long ago.
“Ready?” Kate came up from behind me, picked up the lamp, and put it back in the cabinet. “Everything’s okay in here. We can check out the rest of the place on our way out.”
We did a quick search of the winery, from the bottling room to the gift shop and from the gift shop to the office where a small staff of dedicated workers took care of Internet and wholesale orders. Our last stop was the warehouse, and as soon as we stepped into the cavernous room, I shivered.
“Somebody left a window open.”
We checked. They hadn’t.
“And not the door into the old back storage rooms, either,” Kate said, with a look toward the back of the warehouse. “That’s closed, too. It must just be getting colder outside.”
And I knew she was right.
Which didn’t explain why after she’d already turned out the lights and I took one second to glance over my shoulder into the warehouse, I thought I saw . . .
Something.
I closed my eyes and looked again—and again, I swear I saw a shimmer in the deepest shadows along the far wall. Not a light exactly. And certainly not a full-blown movement. It was more of a flicker. A flutter in the darkness that morphed from black to gray and back to black again so quickly, I couldn’t say for sure what it could have been.
Legs.
A torso.
Not a person, surely. Because people have heads.
And I know it sounds crazy, but I swear, the figure that flashed in front of my eyes one second and was gone the next was missing his.
5
I t was a trick of the light.
A trick of the shadows.
A trick of my imagination.
And I refused to think about it.
In fact, the next morning I put breakfast out for my guests and immediately retreated into my private suite. For one thing, after what they had pulled the
“And she always set the lamp on the window ledge. Lucky for us, my office wasn’t touched by the fire and this part of the building is original. I put the lamp out every time I walk in. I know it’s silly, but hey, force of habit! When my grandparents took over the winery, that was the first and last thing they did every day. And my parents, too. In fact, when Mom and Dad retired to Florida, they told me never to forget to put out the lamp. Nobody knows when Great-Grandma Carrie started the tradition and nobody knows why. But it can’t hurt anything.”
“It’s really kind of nice,” I told her. “It keeps you connected with the past and with the family.”
“And it reminds me that no matter what that idiot Noreen did, I’m still the boss around here.” Fists on hips, Kate did a turn around the office. “It doesn’t look like anything was touched,” she said. “Noreen can thank her lucky stars for that. If I saw anything messed with in here, I’d get Hank back over here in a heartbeat and have him arrest her camouflaged butt for breaking and entering.”
“And I wouldn’t blame you in the least. In fact, I was surprised when you didn’t.”
Kate tried to control a smile. It didn’t exactly work. “Don’t tell anybody, okay? Most people around the island are convinced I’m as hard as nails. I’d hate to burst their bubbles. Besides, what use is it for them to be thrown in jail? I’d rather have them over at your B and B, with you charging them the fortune you charge and them not being able to get close to the one place they’re just itching to investigate. That’s real revenge!”
While Kate was busy checking every corner of the office, I went to the window to look over the lamp. I like antiques. I own plenty of them. I knew this one wasn’t unusual, and at a flea market, it wouldn’t have sold for more than fifty dollars, in spite of its age. But the fact that it belonged to Kate’s great-grandmother and that it was involved in such a charming family ritual made the lamp special.
It was a foot and a half tall and made of clear glass, and the kerosene that had once gone into the bulbous bottom part of the lamp had evaporated long ago.
“Ready?” Kate came up from behind me, picked up the lamp, and put it back in the cabinet. “Everything’s okay in here. We can check out the rest of the place on our way out.”
We did a quick search of the winery, from the bottling room to the gift shop and from the gift shop to the office where a small staff of dedicated workers took care of Internet and wholesale orders. Our last stop was the warehouse, and as soon as we stepped into the cavernous room, I shivered.
“Somebody left a window open.”
We checked. They hadn’t.
“And not the door into the old back storage rooms, either,” Kate said, with a look toward the back of the warehouse. “That’s closed, too. It must just be getting colder outside.”
And I knew she was right.
Which didn’t explain why after she’d already turned out the lights and I took one second to glance over my shoulder into the warehouse, I thought I saw . . .
Something.
I closed my eyes and looked again—and again, I swear I saw a shimmer in the deepest shadows along the far wall. Not a light exactly. And certainly not a full-blown movement. It was more of a flicker. A flutter in the darkness that morphed from black to gray and back to black again so quickly, I couldn’t say for sure what it could have been.
Legs.
A torso.
Not a person, surely. Because people have heads.
And I know it sounds crazy, but I swear, the figure that flashed in front of my eyes one second and was gone the next was missing his.
5
I t was a trick of the light.
A trick of the shadows.
A trick of my imagination.
And I refused to think about it.
In fact, the next morning I put breakfast out for my guests and immediately retreated into my private suite. For one thing, after what they had pulled the
Similar Books
