Read Burnwood - The Dragon Arum Page 3

CHAPTER THREE

  I swayed from side to side in front of my full-length mirror, fussing with the zipper on my black, hooded sweater. What the hell do I wear to this place?

  I found a pair of dark denim jeans and an orange-red tank top in the bottom of my luggage. I still hadn’t found the boxes containing the rest of my wardrobe, so I had to make do with what I had.

  I slid open my closet door and retrieved a gold pair of flats.

  I shook my blond hair loose, letting it flow halfway down my back. “Perfect.”

  “Annabelle!”

  Almost perfect.

  I sighed. How could I’ve overlooked a very important part of tonight’s plan? Uncle Felix.

  I hurried downstairs to the kitchen. “You rang, oh master?”

  He dried his soapy wet hands on tea towel and tossed it on the countertop. “Yeah, listen for the door, would you? I’ve gotta hit the shower quick time.”

  “Who’s coming?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Just keep an eye on the door, would ya?”

  I followed him to the staircase. “Where are you going that you need a second shower for?”

  He jogged up the stairs and closed the bathroom door without an answer.

  This would’ve been the perfect time to make my escape, but my curiosity wouldn’t let me leave.

  I ambled around the kitchen, entertaining myself with frig magnets and old newspapers that hadn’t made it to the recycle yet. I was almost ready to give up when the doorbell rang.

  I was halfway to the door when I noticed Uncle Felix at the top of the stairs, fiddling with his favorite blue satin tie.

  He was wearing black dress pants and a light blue dress shirt. His lengthy brown hair was combed back from his face and I was pretty sure he had shaved again.

  Our eyes met and then quickly turned for the front entrance. I darted for the door, and he, not missing a beat, slide down the banister. We ended up side by side, racing for the lead. I shoved him with my shoulder and he bumped up against the wall, tumbling to the floor. I smiled triumphantly until his hand wrapped around my ankle, sending me flailing to the ground. We pushed and pulled at each other, struggling for the advantage.

  Suddenly, the door swung open and we both stopped to stare at our guest. A tall, slender blond stepped inside. Her hair was fashioned into a long bob-style and she was wearing a navy blue pant suit.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I heard a ruckus and immediately thought the worse. I didn’t realize you were just… actually, what are you doing?”

  Felix helped me up. “Sorry. She’s a bit nosey, that’s all.”

  I glared at him. “I prefer the term inquisitive.”

  The woman smiled uneasily and offered her hand. “I’m Lucinda Goldfield.”

  “Annabelle,” I said.

  I looked to Felix for an explanation, but he diverted his gaze to the gold watch resting on his wrist, polishing its flawless glass cover with his sleeve.

  What wasn’t he telling me?

  “So…what do you guys have planned for the night?”

  Felix tossed his head back and ran his hand through his hair.

  “Your father and I…”

  “He’s not my father.”

  “I’m not her father.”

  Lucinda’s cheeks reddened and a puzzled expression set in on her face. “Sorry, I just assumed...”

  “I’m his niece,” I said.

  She smiled and nodded. “Well, your uncle has graciously offered to assist me with a case I’m working on tonight.”

  I glanced over at Felix who was still avoiding eye contact and patted him hard on the back. “How kind of him.”

  He grabbed his coat from beside the door. “We should go.”

  I glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was almost 9 o’clock.

  “Good idea.” I grabbed hold of the door and ushered them outside. “Lots of work to get done tonight.”

  I closed the door, hearing a faint “it was nice to meet you” coming from outside the solid oak door.

  I pulled out my cellphone and punched Jane’s address into my Google maps app. I left through the back door to avoid running into Lucinda and Uncle Felix. I was already late so I walked quickly.

  Jane’s house was the last on Darsky Street and the only one that strayed from the generally accepted Victorian style. Instead, the house looked very modern with its large windows and cherry-stained wood siding. It even had a double garage and double-decker doors.

  I walked up the stone path to the porch and knocked.

  I heard a series of thuds and then the door swung open.

  “I’m almost ready,” Jane puffed breathlessly.

  Her hair was half down, beautifully straightened while the other half was tied up in a ponytail on top of her head.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I said, feeling less guilty about my tardiness.

  She waved her hand. “No problem. I’m just glad you came. I was starting to wonder if… you know.”

  I arched my brow. “If I would chicken out?”

  She shrugged. “I wouldn’t have held it against you if you did.”

  I raised a finger and smiled. “But I didn’t.”

  She laughed. “I’ll be ready in a minute. Help yourself to anything in the frig.”

  She hurried back up the stairs, disappearing into what I could only assume was her bedroom.

  I wandered into the room next to the entrance with every intention of distracting myself from thinking about the party I was headed to with a bunch of strangers, which happened to be located in the middle of the dark, secluded area.

  I walked over to the brick fireplace. On top of the dark wooden mantel was an assortment of framed photographs and trophies, including one glass-encased football.

  I leaned in, examining its worn appearance and the black ink scribbled across the front.

  “It belongs to my father.”

  Startled, I turned and saw a tall muscular man with the same mocha complexion as Jane. He was wearing black track pants and a tight grey T-shirt. Sweat seeped through the shirt, causing the material to stick to his chiseled frame.

  “He keeps it as a reminder of his glory days.”

  I took a quick step away from the mantel, feeling as though my presence alone could somehow cause its destruction.

  He laughed. “It’s fine. Jane’s knocked it over at least twice since I’ve been here.”

  “Wait, you guys aren’t originally from Burnwood? I thought Jane was a townie.”

  He nodded and stared straight ahead at the encased football. “She is.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m still confused.”

  He sighed. “Jane is from Burnwood - born and raised. I came here from West Virginia to spend more time with my dad.”

  “Oh,” I said brilliantly. “Well, traditional families are overrated. I read somewhere that blended families are becoming more common anyway.”

  He smiled. “If only everyone saw it that way.”

  “Ready,” Jane called as she hurried down the staircase. She jumped from the third stair and landed near the entrance with a smile that quickly dissipated when her gaze found him. “Lamar, what are you doing here, and why are you talking to Annabelle? Didn’t you say you were going for a run?”

  “I did,” he said. “Two and a half hours ago.”

  She narrowed her eyes on him. “Whatever. I’m leaving anyway.”

  He shook his head and passed her without saying a word. He paused at the staircase, one foot hovering over the first stair. “It was nice meeting you, Annabelle.”

  Jane scrunched up her face and stuck out her tongue, something I hadn’t seen since third grade. Again, he shook his head and continued upstairs.

  Jane watched him, maintaining her much exaggerated scowl. He shut the door to his room and her demeanor instantly changed. She was back to the smiley, bubbly person I had met at lunch and I was beyond relieved.

  She swiped a set of keys from the small table along t
he wall and opened the door. “Let’s get to that party, shall we? There’s someone waiting for you.”