Free Keeper of the Castle: A Haunted Home Renovation Mystery by Juliet Blackwell Page B

High Commissioner on Refugees.
    Elrich noted my interest.
    “It wasn’t my idea to display those,” he said, sounding rather abashed. “But Vernon and Alicia . . .” He inclined his head slightly. “They convinced me it was good for my image—more importantly, for the image of Elrich Enterprises. And I’m facing a harsh reality, Mel: My corporation employs hundreds of people. What started out as Ellis James Elrich standing onstage, talking about overcoming personal adversity, has somehow morphed into a major employer.”
    “I know how it is to feel responsible for other people’s jobs,” I said, surprised to find anything in common with this billionaire.
    “I thought you might,” he said, intelligent eyes studying me. “That’s why you agreed to come work for me, isn’t it? I have the sense that you wouldn’t have done so if not for the good of your workers.”
    This was how Elrich had made his money,
I thought. Whether or not he was sincere, he sure came off as honest and forthcoming . . . and perceptive.
    “Vernon Dunn doesn’t share my vision, I’m sorry to say,” Elrich continued. “Even Florian is only here because I am paying him to be.”
    “To be honest, so am I.”
    He nodded. “Fair enough. But I have the sense that once you sink your teeth into a project, it becomes more about the love of the building than about the paycheck. Am I right?”
    True. I did my job to the point of obsession sometimes. “Still, this project is quite different from what I usually work on. . . .”
    “Only in the sense that it’s not yet a building,” said Ellis, sitting forward. His hands were clasped on top of the table, large, surprisingly graceful, unadorned by rings or the heavy watch so common to wealthy men. His skin looked richly tanned against the pure white of his cuffs, his wrists thick. “Once it starts to feel more like a building, I do believe you’ll fall in love with the project, just as I have. And just think: Combining history with the forward-thinking green concepts of Graham Donovan—the possibilities are endless.”
    I nodded.
    “The retreat center will house the followers of the Elrich Method most of the year, but I am setting aside six weeks in the summer to provide a summer camp for underprivileged children from Oakland and San Francisco. They’re only a short drive away, and yet many of them have never had the opportunity to breathe good country air, to see the ocean, and to understand how a farm works.”
    “That’s . . . very generous. I know there’s a lot of need.”
    He smiled and ducked his head. “So what I need from you is help proving the naysayers wrong. When you have a chance to spend some time with the stones, I think you’ll fall in love with them, just as I did when I first came upon them in Scotland. As Helen Keller said, ‘The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched—they must be felt with the heart.’”
    I was beginning to understand how Ellis Elrich had gotten where he was. He was a motivational speaker, after all, and I was falling under his spell, feeling quite motivated. On the other hand . . .
    “So, about the murder . . .”
    He shook his head. “Such a tragedy. Did you know Larry McCall personally?”
    “I met him just moments before . . . the, um . . . incident.”
    “I’ve arranged for a memorial service to be held in the chapel—such as it is—tomorrow evening.”
    “Really. I didn’t realize you knew him.”
    “I didn’t. Only tangentially. But given the tragedy, I think we could all use a little closure. Saying good-bye allows us to move on.”
    I nodded, wondering whether Elrich knew about my experiences with ghosts. And if he did, whether that had anything to do with his invitation to come take over this enormous, profitable project. I was trying to think of a way to form the question, when he continued.
    “There will be no sherry hour tonight, given the circumstances. I