Free Mystral Murder (Julie O'Hara Mystery Series) by Lee Hanson Page A

me that again. You are to call me ‘Cecile’.  And so, she never called her that again.
    Still, even if she didn’t like that name, that’s what Cecile was, wasn’t she? The little girl noticed that the Mamas liked it when their children drew pictures. They picked up the children and hugged them. Sometimes they just picked them up and hugged them for no reason, but she knew Cecile would need a good reason. So, the little girl drew very detailed pictures and colored them very carefully so she wouldn’t go outside the lines. She showed them to Cecile hoping for a hug, but Cecile just said they were “very good”.
    They lived in a big, old house. There was a maid who came every day to polish things. She polished glasses and silverware, especially a fancy silver set on a silver tray. The little girl thought it was the nicest thing in the house; she could see her face in the big pitcher, just like a mirror.  And there was another small pitcher, a teapot and a sugar bowl. The little girl wanted to play with them, to make believe she was serving tea, but she would never dare ask Cecile about that.
    The other thing the maid polished was wood. No one ever sat at the giant table in the dining room that had so many chairs, but the maid polished it all the same. The living room furniture had cushions that smelled musty and made the little girl wrinkle her nose, so she didn’t go in there, but the maid did. The couch and chairs had heavy, dark wood legs and knobs, and the maid polished those, too. 
    It seemed to the little girl that the whole house was dark: the floors and the paneled walls, the staircase and railings. She liked it better on the second floor where the bedrooms were. The floors weren’t as dark there and the plaster walls were painted white.
    But she didn’t like the third floor…NO, NO…not the third floor!
    She didn’t mean to go there. Cecile told her not to go there and she wouldn’t have. She only knew about the wide front staircase that came straight down into the front hall. She went up and down those stairs all the time, but only to the second floor. She saw them turn back and go higher, but Cecile said “never go up there”.
    The little girl would never disobey Cecile.
    But these were different stairs.
    The little girl found them by accident when she opened a door in the storeroom next to the kitchen. They went right up, turning round and round. She thought they would go to the second floor; maybe they were secret stairs to her bedroom! But when she opened the door at the top, she was in a room she never saw before and Cecile was there, sitting at a desk.  
    “What are you doing here?!” she yelled. She grabbed the little girl’s arm and dragged her around the dusty, book-lined room. “This is Row Bear’s room! How do you like it?” She shook the little girl and said, “Row Bear is dead, but maybe you should stay here tonight. Let him come and get you!”
    Cecile released the little girl and pulled a skeleton key from the pocket of her dress. She locked the door to the back stairs, unplugged the single green-shaded lamp and, taking it with her, stormed out of the room through the other door.
    The little girl heard the key turn in the lock on the other side of the door. She ran to it and grabbed the door knob, turning and yanking and pulling at it. She looked around fearfully; it was starting to get dark! She ran to the single, dormered window, but it was locked and painted shut.
    Oh, what was she going to do? A dead bear was coming! Row Bear was coming!
    ***
     
    “Michelle, you’re okay,” Andrew said softly, stroking her arm. “Wake up, sweetheart, it’s a dream. You’re here with me.”
    Michelle was breathing hard and there were tears in her eyes. “It was the bear; the dead bear was coming for me.”
    “It was just a dream. Here, I’ll hold you.”
    She backed up to him. He put his arm over her and she held on to it. Safe in his embrace, Michelle thought about the