Skull Creek Stakeout (Caden Chronicles, The) by Eddie Jones Read Free Book Online Page B

could learn to grow a wart on my sister’s nose …
Raintree returned with a hardback with gold-tipped pages.
    “Everything you could ever want to know about Transylvania is in here. The writing is a bit dry, but the author did a thorough job of documenting his sources. This book is quite rare. Published in the early nineteen hundreds. Out of print, of course. Lucky for you, we have one of the few remaining copies available.”
    “Does it explain how the town got its name?”
    “Of course. But you do not need a book for that. Transylvania is derived from the Latin phrase
trans
meaning ‘across’ and
sylva
meaning ‘woods.’ As you have no doubt noticed, we are surrounded by woods and rolling hills. Any suggestion that our town is linked to the region in Romania and the so-called birthplace of vampires is purely unintentional.”
    “But not unwelcome.”
    His smile faded. “Excuse me?”
    “This shop, these books.” I nodded toward the rack of vampire novels. “Having a bookstore known as Dead Lines in a place called Transylvania can’t be a coincidence.”
    “Oh, I suppose a few customers
do
drop in hoping to find books on the supernatural. And I did choose the name for obvious marketing reasons. But I assure you books of that nature make up only a small portion of our sales. Romance novels and historical fiction is where we make our money.”
    I put the idiot’s potions book back on the shelf and gave him one of my
Cool Ghoul Gazette
business cards.
    He studied the card, frowning.
    Before he could brush me off, I said, “My editor sent me because he thought the victim was a vampire. What do you think?”
    Raintree tucked the card into his vest pocket and glanced away, as if anxious to get back to helping other customers. “I do not speculate on things of which I have no knowledge or interest.”
    “But you did hear about the body they found, right?”
    How could he not? He ran a bookstore dealing in the dead and the occult. If he denied knowing about Forester’s death, that could only mean one thing: he was in on it.
    “Of course. It’s not every day a body is found staked to a putting green.”
    “What can you tell me about Randolph Manor?”
    His eyes widened, making me wonder if my comment had knocked him off stride.
    “I … ah … know of the place, sure. Some years ago I expressed an interest in purchasing the property. Not that I could ever afford to own it outright. There isn’t
that
much money in selling books. But as a lark I formed a nonprofit organization and appointed myself chair and began soliciting funding to establish a conservancy on the land. The town council thought it was a wonderful idea and gave me their blessing. The idea was to turn the property into a wildlife preserve. You may not know this, but the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is reintroducing red wolves to this area. They, along with black bear and coyote, have been almost hunted into extinction.
    “Once I had secured adequate financial commitments, I approached the two owners with what I believed was a generous offer. The two Randolph brothers made it clear neither had any intention of selling. I dissolved the nonprofit soon thereafter and put all my energies into making this store a success. That’s the extent of what I know about Randolph Manor.”
    “So who owns it now, the same two brothers?” I knew the answer, but I wanted to see if Barlow’s story lined up with the Raintree’s.
    “I should say not. Not long after the Randolph brothers rejected my bid, the younger of the two brothers ran into financial difficulties and petitioned the court to dissolve his grandfather’s agreement. The patriarch of the family, Rupert Randolph, had deeded the estate to the two grandsons in such a way that precluded either heir from selling their half of the estate without the other’s permission. The younger Randolph grandson argued that he was paying property taxes on an asset that he could not sell nor afford to maintain.