Solace in Scandal

Well, not her house. His lake house.

He’d been watching her that first night from the balcony right outside those windows. Had he been watching her since?

The idea sent another kind of shiver down her spine.

Hurrying along, she passed empty rooms filled with oak furniture, priceless antiques and vintage rugs. She felt out of place here, surrounded by so much wealth. Everything felt so heavy, yet so luxurious and tempting. The only context she had was the time she and her mother had vacationed in Rhode Island. Her aunt had taken them on a tour of the famous mansions of Newport – the summer getaways for the likes of the Vanderbilts and the Rockefellers. The only difference there was that the rooms had been roped off. The classic look-but-don’t-touch approach.

This was real.

These people lived this way. They kept this mansion that was way too big with way too many rooms. They slept on these beds, walked across those priceless rugs, toyed with those pricey ceramic figurines … Privilege. There were so many aspects to that word. She couldn’t imagine how it would feel to not have to worry about money, to have any pleasure or comfort available at the snap of her fingers.

She moved past a study and then a music room with a grand piano and harp. It made her frown. Did someone actually play that thing or was it just for show?

It didn’t matter; she was dawdling. Straightening, she focused again on the library at the end of the hall. She was about to walk inside when she realised she was still carrying the kitchen towel. A damp towel and books … It wasn’t a good combination.

There was a half bath just off to her right. She stepped inside to drape the hand-towel over a towel rail. For a moment, she let her toes curl into the rug beneath her feet. Even the bathroom rugs here were thick and sumptuous. Its burgundy colour matched not only the towels that were artfully arranged over the brass rail but also the soapdish and lotion dispenser. She was admiring the heavy ceramic set when a bang suddenly came through the pipes. The sound was so loud, it made her jump.

‘Ah!’

Lurching back, she looked at the sink and toilet. Was something wrong with the plumbing?

Another sound radiated through the walls. In the small room, the reverberation seemed to be coming from everywhere. Elena flinched again, warnings flaring in her mind. Shuffling backwards, she braced herself in the doorway.

What was that?

She looked for the source of the racket. It sounded as if the pipes were about to explode.

Wait. No, that wasn’t the pipes. She could hear them now in a distinct rattle. This was something else … some kind of impact … She looked out the window. Had someone made it onto the grounds? Were they trying to break in?

Another series of hard thuds rang in the walls, making her wince. She could literally feel them under her fingertips. No, this was coming from inside.

She looked up.

A strange sound had her quickly reevaluating and looking down. Under her feet. Below her, she’d heard a cry that could only be associated with a wounded animal.

‘Oh, God.’

Something was down there.

She didn’t think that Leonard had been caring for any pets, but would he have kept a guard dog inside if he’d known she was on the property? She doubted it, but she jumped when there was another explosion of noise beneath her. Banging noises. Desperate sounds.

‘Hold on. I’m coming.’

Shaking with adrenalin, she backed into the hallway. Whatever was down there, it needed help. She couldn’t ignore the frantic sounds. She looked up and down the hall. How could she get down there? The library was the only place she’d ever visited. She’d never explored; she hadn’t wanted to.

Bang, bang, bang.

More clanging rang up through the walls and her toes curled with the need to move. Where was the staircase? She didn’t try to be quiet as she raced back to the main entrance, though she nearly fell, her socks sliding along the hardwood flooring, when she found an open archway. There. Carpeted steps led downwards to the basement.

She flew down the stairs and immediately turned to her right. The sounds were louder down here. The limestone structure had soaked up most of the noise, containing it. On the lower level, they were booming. Her sense of urgency grew, and she ignored the indoor putting green and wet bar as she honed in on the anguish in the air.

‘Hello?’ she called. ‘Where are you?’

Heart pounding, she found the gym. It was nearly as big as the one she’d used in the city, only the equipment was better and it didn’t smell like sweaty socks. On the balls of her feet, she scoped out the situation.

There. The door off the end. It was shaking on its hinges.

She heard that raw, guttural sound that had stifled her breaths upstairs. Only this time the keening was clear. It wasn’t an animal; it was a person. A man.

‘What’s wrong?’ She raced over to the door, but was afraid to get too near just in case it exploded outwards. ‘Do you need help?’

The person inside didn’t hear her. They were setting up a racket, pounding on the door and scratching at it.

She lifted her hands to protect her face when they started kicking.

‘Hey!’ she yelled.

A roar responded. He’d heard her this time. ‘Out! Get me out!’

Her breath caught in her throat. She recognised that voice.

‘Now!’

She lurched back into action. ‘Stop kicking.’

Again, in his panic, the man didn’t listen. He was going at that door like his life depended on it.

‘Alex!’

The racket fell and the noise level dropped so suddenly, it was jarring. Still, Elena swore she could hear ragged breaths coming through the sturdy wooden door. She approached cautiously and laid her hand over the handle. ‘Alex, is that you?’

‘Elena?’

His voice was thin, and her name sounded plaintive. Urgency clawed at her.

‘Is it the lock? Are you stuck?’ She twisted the handle on the door and pushed, but nothing happened. She tried again, feeling him help from the other side, but something was blocking the door’s natural movement. Her brain began clicking as she sized up the situation.

‘Open it,’ he ordered, his voice brusque. ‘Damn it. Get it open!’

She yelped when he started kicking again. She could see the door bowing as he made contact, but he was kicking out, while the door swung inwards.

‘Wait! Hold on!’ She turned the handle and felt the latch open fine. Putting her shoulder into it, she shoved again. The top corner of the door swung in, but the bottom held tight. She knelt down when she found the source of the problem. ‘The gym mat is lodged under the bottom corner.’

She reeled back when the door starting shaking again.

‘You’re making it worse. Alex! Let me help you.’

He stopped abruptly. She pounced while she had the chance, talking out loud to keep him distracted. ‘It’s wedged in tight. Kicking it will only make it worse, and you aren’t Bruce Lee. You can’t kick through it.’