Free Angel Manor (Lucifer Falls Book 1) by Chantal Noordeloos Page B

headwear.
    “Spooky.” She wrapped her hands across her shoulder and shivered. The man gave her a smug nod.
    “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Thank you again.” He put on his brown raincoat. Bam held the door open for him and watched him walk towards his van, where the two movers stood having a cigarette. She stayed in the doorway until the van drove out of sight, her skin an exposition of tiny goose bumps.
    “What are you staring at?”
    Bam yelped and turned around to face Oliver. His brown curls hung flat around his head like withering flowers, and sweat stained his old work-shirt.
    “Nothing.” She felt a pang of guilt because she had been thinking of ghosts again and Oliver hated talking about ghosts. “I got the cheque.” She held it up with false cheerfulness.
    “Good job, Bam. I’m proud of you, girl.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead, his lips burning hot on her skin, and Bam felt a tingle in her crotch.
    “Thanks, I wanted more, but—”
    “You did fine. This will provide us with a nice little buffer. It’ll give me the opportunity to build a proper kitchen in this place.” He took the cheque from her hand and held it up. “This is absolutely brilliant.”
    “Plus, now all the stuff is gone, we can redecorate the living room.”
    “Yeah, that’s the plan. While the builders do the hotel, we can focus on our little part of the house.”
    Bam plucked a piece of plaster from his shoulder. “I’m not very good with the technical stuff, but I’m one hell of a decorator.”
    He chuckled, and the sight of his crooked smile made the butterflies in her stomach twirl. Oliver wasn’t the most handsome man she had ever met – his nose was a little too broad for that and his chin was weak – but there was something in the way he spoke and smiled that turned Bam to pudding.
    “Let’s go have some lunch.” Oliver put his arm around her shoulders, but Bam pushed him away, her nose wrinkled.
    “Get off. You stink!”
    Oliver bent forward and wafted the scent from his armpits in her direction with his hand, and Bam screeched and ran away laughing. Oliver chased her into the kitchen, his fingers pulling at her shirt. Bam came to an abrupt stop when she saw the expression on Freya’s face. She was sitting at the kitchen table, a letter in her hand and her brow a knot above her nose.
    “What’s up?” Bam slid onto the seat next to her and gave her a worried look.
    “This came today from the inheritance lawyer. They missed it somehow, but my aunt wanted me to have it.”
    “What does it say?” Oliver took a seat on the other side of Freya and looked over her shoulder at the letter. Bam felt her stomach tighten, and she fiddled nervously with the plastic floral tablecloth that she’d used to bring a bit of colour to the dreary wooden kitchen.
    “It’s just insane.” Freya sounded exasperated, and she sat back in the wooden chair, never taking her eyes off the letter. “I knew the woman had issues… but for God’s sake…”
    “I’m curious now.” Oliver raised his eyebrows and leaned further forward.
    “Okay, I’ll read you bits. It’s very long so I’ll spare you all of it. Here it goes.
    “‘Dear Freya,

    “‘If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead, and I never had a chance to instruct you with regards to Angel Manor. I will try to leave the instructions as clearly as I can in the journal since you are on your own now.’” Freya turned the letter around to see if there was any mention of a journal.
    “I haven’t quite figured out what the journal is, or where it is. It didn’t come with the letter. I’ll have to ask if it got left behind.”
    “Go on,” Oliver urged.
    “‘Your mother was the natural heir to this house, but she passed over her rights many years ago, and I don’t think she’ll serve as a Guardian. You are humanity’s last hope, Freya. I know you come from a Godless family, but the good Lord has a plan for you, and it is very important that you