Free McCann's Manor by Charlotte Holley Page A

holding her breath. She shook her head, eased the air out before walking to the massive desk and sitting. Missy had been able to see both her father and Ptarmigan from her vantage point inside the secret passage but that would have been possible from most of the walls, since the desk sat near the center of the huge room.
    Liz rose and circled the room, taking careful note of what one might see from behind one of the walls with reference to the desk. The two walls behind the desk were made up of the large windows, floor-to-ceiling, so that eliminated them. The two walls adjoining the windows also seemed unlikely to her, though she wasn't sure why. For all she knew about secret passageways, they might well have been the most likely choices. She mused a few moments on the structure of this huge impressive library, wondered why it had been designed with eight walls, not the standard four. Did its octagonal structure permit more room for shelves? What was the reason for it? It was interesting, she had to admit.
    Two of the eight walls ran parallel to the ends of the desk. Standing behind either of those walls would have afforded one with the clearest side view of both the man sitting at the desk and the man standing in front of it. Of course, Ptarmigan could have been pacing and would have been visible from any vantage point, though Leonard's expressions would not have been perceptible from all points. Liz frowned. Had Missy said anything that would have led her to believe the girl had been able to see Leonard's face?
    Maybe not, but when Liz thought about Missy's account, she could almost see Leonard's face in her mind's eye. Was that because it had been a dream or because she and Missy had such a strong psychic link? In the first dream about Missy, Liz had been one with the girl. Had that identification with Missy made her be able to see things through Missy's eyes all the time, or was Liz just imagining things?
    No. Missy was watching from somewhere to the left of Leonard's desk. She had seen her father's facial expressions, had seen him as he was being shot to death. That was why she had felt so repulsed when Missy described it.
    Not Missy's words, but rather the girl's own observations, had been what made Liz nauseous. She wondered what had kept the girl from screaming and thus giving away her position. How horrible it must have all seemed to her. Small wonder everyone thought she needed psychiatric help. But to know such a terrible secret and not be able to tell anyone who would believe her must have hurt her deeply.
    Liz walked toward the wall of books where she expected to find the hidden passage. The second full wall to the right of the entrance to the room had to be it. As she studied the bookcase, a feeling of gloom settled on her, as though the atmosphere of the room itself had changed. She felt a chill, a dread. She had to turn and look into the room, but she didn't want to. She wanted to continue her examination of the bookshelf, which was why she had come into the room in the first place.
    She was compelled to turn. She had to see what was in the room behind her. She took a deep breath, clenched her fists, pivoted. It was the same room, yet everything had changed. The electric lamps were gone and old-fashioned kerosene lanterns burned in their place. A man sat at the desk, a feathered quill pen in his hand as he wrote on a piece of parchment. This must be McCann, she thought as she crept across the room.
    McCann looked up for a second as though he had heard her approach, but returned to his writing. A large, fluffy gray cat was curled up on the desk near his elbow purring. The cat watched her approach McCann, but showed no more than a passing interest in her as she continued across the room to look over the man's shoulder.
    Liz found herself holding her breath again as she came near enough to McCann to read what he was writing. She knew he couldn't see her, any more than most people would have been able to see him,