Left to Vanish (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Eight) Blake Pierce (classic english novels TXT) 📖

“Fifty-eight last month, and don’tyou forget it!” Calvetti chuckled softly, shaking her head and opening her owndoor before Enrico could hop out and open it for her as he was oft to do.

She pulled the suitcase behind andhefted it in one hand. No wheels, nor extending handle. Gianna refused to allowher life of creature comforts to extend so far it ruled out a little bit ofhealthy exercise. And with how often she traveled for work, there came plentyenough opportunities.

She hefted the small blue case andlooked up, admiring her home. Though, perhaps most might call it an estate.Beige and cream siding mimicked seaside sandstone and the cobblestone walkwayhinted at a bygone era beneath the railed terrace of the mansion whichoverlooked the tennis courts, private pool, and small guesthouse lodged upagainst an encircling marble wall.

Gianna waited as Enrico circledthe car around the marble fountain roundabout and slowly made his way back upthe drive toward the gates again. She watched him leave, the blue suitcasestill gripped firmly in her gloved hand. The day be damned when she neededsomeone else to carry her own burdens.

She nodded resolutely, then turnedtoward the mansion. The place was a lot more spacious since the children hadmoved out and she’d gotten rid of that sorry excuse for a husband nearly threeyears ago.

She pressed her lips together andwas approaching the doors of her home when a flicker of light caught herattention.

Gianna paused, frowning, one footon the lowest step. She glanced over toward the guesthouse. Another flicker inthe window… Hesitantly, she lowered the suitcase to the first step, releasingher grip and staring in the direction of the smaller guesthouse.

Not a flicker. A light. Difficultto spot due to the cast iron lampstand between the houses. As she’d passed fromone side to the other, the light had flashed on either side of the metalprotrusion. She wrinkled her nose—how had a light been left on?

The gardener?

She frowned deeper now, beginningto move in the direction of the guesthouse.

If that damned wastrel and hisbrood were squatting in the guesthouse again, she’d give him a scolding to beremembered. She wouldn’t fire him—no, he’d been loyal to the family. But one musthave boundaries in life.

She picked up her pace, leavingher blue suitcase behind her against the lowest marble step, gravel crunchingbeneath her shoes as she stalked toward the guesthouse.

“Hello?” she called out, feeling amild annoyance rising.

She’d wanted to come home, relaxin the hot tub, drink some wine, and doze off watching whatever newrecommendation she could find in the romantic comedy genre. Now, though,beneath the glare of the moon, her own scowl intensified.

“Hello?” she called louder.

No answer.

Perhaps her children had beenthrough. Though she’d made it clear that now they had their own places theyought to announce any visits. She sighed. They’d often been the most unruly ofkids. Especially given how much attention the nannies had lavished.

She stalked toward the guesthouse,clearing her throat and approaching the front door.

The door had been left open too.

She paused now, hesitant. “Hello?”she called, voice louder. “Is anyone in there?”

Her eyes darted to the securitycameras on the marble wall directed toward the driveway. Even from here, shecould see the glinting blue lights of the alarm system up at the main house.She’d never bothered to place a system in the guesthouse. No one had lived herefor years.

Now, though, she was beginning to regretthis security blind spot.

She hesitated, swallowing andstanding on the cobblestones facing the door. A slow shiver crept up her spine,and for a moment, she thought to turn back, to call the police…

A soft, moaning sound echoed fromthe guesthouse and she yelped instinctively, jolting back.

She watched as the open doorwidened further, the moaning coming from the creak of the hinges as the windcaught the frame. The light was on in the entryway. No one inside. No sign of adisturbance at all.

The gardener. He’d probably gonein to use the restroom.

She nodded to herself. Yes. Thegardener. She shook her head once and then walked with purposeful strides back towardthe open door. Just a quick look around to make sure nothing had been taken.Then she’d lock up and give the old family employee a stern talking to.

Boundaries. They mattered. She’dalways known it.

Muttering to herself, though notquite falling into the crime of grumbling, she approached the open door.Business on one side, gardeners on the other… It would be nice to have agetaway at some point where others took care of her for a change. Maybe a hotelin the countryside. Or, perhaps, to her own summer home in Aquitaine.

She stepped into the house,carried by the relief of a future hope.

“Hello?” she said a final time,just in case.

But her query was met only by thewhining hinges and the whispering breeze. The bright entryway light, which she’dspotted through the window, glared down at her, illuminating the small hallway.No sign of disturbance. No shoes by the door. Nothing.

She nodded resolutely andapproached the light switch on the opposite side of the hall. As she moved intothe guesthouse, up the hall, a floorboard creaked.

She frowned. The hinges of thedoor behind her groaned. She began to turn, hesitantly, one finger extended towardthe light switch.

And then, the sudden sound ofsprinting feet.

She yelped, whirling around. Roughhands shoved her hard against the wall. Her eyes widened and she tried to scream,but leather-clad fingers jammed into her mouth, holding back the sound. Shetried to bite down, but the fingers jerked back, pushing her face against thecheap wallpaper.

Heavy breathing, a soft growl. Andthen something around her throat. She choked, gasping, trying to yank free. Ashadow—a strong shadow—was behind her, pushing hard, holding her in place. Shegasped, strangling, trying to scream but finding her breath was now in shortsupply.

It felt like… beads around herneck? A single black emblem, hard to discern, dangled from the edge of a glovedhand, attached to whatever was strangling her. She stared, her eyes bulging,fixated on the dangling ebony as the strange beads tightened on her throat.

A hoarse voice whispered in herear. “Did you miss me?”

And then, darkness came calling.

CHAPTER TWO

“I don’t know,” Adele murmuredsoftly, shaking her head.

“My uncle spoke highly of