Free Deadly Inheritance: A Romantic Suspense by Amy Corwin

drink.
    Life at Autumn Hill must have been pretty jolly when her uncle was still alive, given the housekeeper’s stiff attitude.
    “No,” Nora said. She’d lost that round to Sarah, but she’d worked with enough dogs to know better than to give in to such passive-aggressive behavior forever. “I’ll just go and find that liquor cabinet.”
    Sarah nodded, picked up a red plastic bucket containing some dusty rags and a bottle of furniture polish, and strode out. When she closed the door behind her, the scents of lavender, lemon polish, chlorine from her hair, and the stale air tickled Nora’s nose.
    She sneezed and opened the door, glancing over her shoulder at Gabe. “Well, you heard her. I guess we need to find the dining room and hope for the best.”
    By the time they’d entered the hallway, Sarah Lennox had disappeared. After a couple of false starts, they wandered into a recreational room with a large screen television mounted on one wall and a long, sectional sofa angled in front of it. The room’s abandoned air made them turn around without a word and try another door. This one netted them a library with three walls of built-in shelves and books.
    Nora looked at Gabe in frustration. Hadn’t they come down this hallway when they first entered?
    Gabe shrugged his shoulder, a crooked smile and amused glint in his eyes making her feel breathless. Shaking his head, he led the way past the grand staircase and tried another door.
    They found the dining room. And like the other rooms, it was deserted. However, the huge oval table in the center of the room had already been set for lunch. Six place settings were arranged at precise intervals, and a pitcher of ice tea dripping condensation onto a bright yellow plastic mat sat in the center of the table.
    The bright color of the plastic mat caught her eye. Nora smiled, remembering the cheerful red bucket Sarah had used upstairs. Good for Sarah. Maybe she wasn’t as dismal as she seemed. The yellow mat had to be one of the housekeeper’s touches, considering that Uncle Archie seemed to prefer massive, dark, and completely hideous antiques. At least Sarah hadn’t given up all signs of life despite her depressing surroundings.
    Gabe walked around the room once, his handsome face thoughtful, before he came to a halt in front of a small, black lacquer credenza.
    “This appears to be the bar.” He bent and slid one of the front panels over to the left side. “It’s not locked, and it’s well stocked.” He pulled out several bottles and read their labels before holding one out to Nora. “Vodka. Not bad quality, either.”
    “Honestly, I don’t care if it’s the worst brand on the market.” Nora took the nearly full bottle and opened it. She lifted it partway to her lips before she caught his amused gaze and lowered it.
    Great way to make a good impression. He’d already seen her dripping with green slime, how much worse could it get? “Are there any glasses?”
    Chuckling, he shook his head and bent to slide open the other side of the bar. “Yeah. Here you go. There isn’t any ice. Do you want some seltzer?”
    “Heck no.” She sloshed a good quantity into the glass and took a large sip. Take that, you nasty little buggers. Party’s over .
    The clear alcohol burned all the way down her throat. Her stomach cramped and then eased under a surge of warmth. By the third swallow, the liquid was going down as smooth and clean as spring water. But she could tell by the way her calves were tingling and beginning to go numb that she was getting tipsy.
    Not that she cared, even if Autumn Hill was the creepiest place she’d ever seen. She’d developed a permanent itch between her shoulder blades, and she didn’t know if someone was watching her, or if it was just the aftereffects of her little bath in the moat.
    Well, better inebriated than flopping around the bathroom, moaning with dysentery.
    “Don’t you think two glasses is enough?” Gabe picked up the