Life Eludes Him by Jennifer Suits Read Free Book Online Page B

think you’re a fool for believing in the supernatural, you shouldn’t,” I conceded. I wasn’t about to let him become disappointed in how the evening was unfolding, because I actually enjoyed the presence of the man across the table in front of me.
    When he looked finished with his plate, I hurriedly gobbled down a few bites and rose, bringing our plates with me. I carried the conversation into the kitchen, “You’ve been a rather pleasant guest. Would you like a glass of wine? I could order a bottle before they close.”
    “I don’t drink, but I thank you all the same,” he said, following me into the kitchen. “You’ve been a generous hostess. I’m sorry I sprang this on you like that. I just didn’t want to see someone as lovely as you trapped into such a place, without anyone to explain what’s truly happened over the years.”
    I blushed with the compliment. “Thanks. I haven’t had anyone look out for me like that and really, I’m not used to it.” Placing the dishes in the sink, I smiled and turned to him.
    He looked me in the eyes as his face fell stoic. “I mean it. Please be careful. It is said my great-grandfather still roams those rooms on the third floor.” With that, he begged pardon for the abrupt departure and left my apartment.
    Steven Davis Renshaw… I went over the entire evening I’d had with the stranger at dinner. Chesley Davis Renshaw III. That’s a beautiful name, very elegant. I readied for bed and played the recorder repeatedly until I fell asleep listening to it. I dreamt of Steven Renshaw, of his voice, the way he carried himself and the politeness in his words. He , above all others I’d met in my life, carried all the aspects of chivalry.
     

Chapter Two
     
     
    The sun woke me in the morning. Nearing eight o’clock, I took a shower and drank a mug of coffee. Picking up the paper from the local pharmacy down the street, I noticed the front-page headlines. I felt my heavy heart in my throat the further down the page I read. Steven Renshaw was hit and killed by a drunk driver last night. But there was a glaring error in the news article; the time given for the accident was a half hour before he visited me last night . I wiped my eyes in disbelief.
    It must have been a typing error. He visited me and then died. I felt shocked and sad, so I went to the police station for answers. The police informed me of the events and the recorded time of the accident, which was indeed half an hour too early, and took information from me.
    Stunned, I went back to the apartment. I looked at the previous night’s take-out boxes in the trash and shook my head in disbelief.
    I called my boss and told him about the previous evening’s events, deftly leaving out the questionable parts and relaxed when he gave me the day off to unwind. I made sure to take out the trash and draw a bath. Again, I dreamt of Steven Renshaw. Something about him made me think he knew much more than he had told me.
    The next day, I felt slightly refreshed and ready to inspect the inside of the mansion. Gathering my voice recorder, pad of paper, pens and other instruments, I set out for West Creek Mansion.
    Turning into the drive, I felt eased by its presence. Massive in its complexity and mystery, the fact that I had already looked at it the day before yesterday helped ease its enormity. I took up my equipment and went to the shed-like building to the left, which was deep within the overgrown garden.
    Again, I found the correct key and labeled it. Stepping inside and using a small flashlight, I could tell it was a garden and swimming pool supply shed.
    Turning back out and locking up this building, I headed for the front door of the main house. I inhaled a fresh breath of air and unlocked the padlock. With no aid, the door creaked open slightly. Fresh air stirred up dust puffs at the doorstep.
    Light streamed in from the doorway, casting my shadow across the dirty floor. A dingy staircase started twenty feet inside