“It’s just up there. The one with the black iron fence.”
She points through the windshield, and I get my first glimpse of the property. By the time I roll the car to a stop in front of the gate, I can’t hold back a gasp.
The house is perfect.
It’s more than brochure-worthy. It’s a fairytale come to life.
Sprawling gabled roofs edged with woodwork so intricate it looks like piped frosting. Old-fashioned shutters on the windows. A wraparound porch with wide floorboards and ornate wooden posts. There’s even a tiny stained glass panel over the large front door, and I can see the withered remains of vines that must burst with vibrant green all summer long clinging to the white walls. Two large evergreen trees flank the building, standing like sleepy giants with their branches stretching out wide.
“Wow,” I manage to murmur, after blinking at the scene through the car window for what feels like several minutes.
“It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Maddie says from behind me. “You can see how it would make a beautiful inn.”
Natalie makes a sound that I think might be a covert snort, but I can’t take my eyes off the house to see what’s going on with her. All I can do is stare.
This exactly the kind of house I used to dream of living in.
Sure, six bedrooms is a little much, but it’s got everything I used to want: the cozy porch, the sprawling yard, the towering old trees just begging for some Christmas lights. It’s long past the holidays, but I can still picture candles burning in the windows and smoke curling out of the ash-stained chimney.
The chimney could use a scrubbing. Really, the whole place could. Natalie wasn’t lying about the TLC. The walls need a fresh coat of white, and a few of the shutters should be replaced. The spiky iron fence looks like something out of a haunted mansion attraction and should probably be removed entirely.
My brain buzzes with a thousand ideas for renovations, and I haven’t even set foot inside.
“Shall we?”
Natalie slips her seatbelt off and then climbs out into the road. I shut the engine off and follow suit. There’s a large gate with a snow-dusted driveway behind it, but the thick chains locking it shut look like they haven’t budged in a while. Natalie unlocks a smaller gate instead, revealing a narrow footpath that runs straight up to the front door.
“Careful,” she warns as she holds it open for me and Maddie. “I keep forgetting to buy salt, so the whole yard is a death trap.”
She’s not exaggerating. We wobble and slide our way along the icy ground until we reach the wide steps up to the porch.
They groan under our feet, and as I stare at the thick black door that seems to loom over us, a shiver runs up my spine.
“Your aunt really lived here all alone?”
It’s not exactly an appropriate thing to ask a potential client, especially when I can’t keep the incredulity out of my tone, but the thought of a solitary old lady wandering the halls of a house this big for decades has creepy factor written all over it.
“Yeah, she wasn’t, um...very social,” Natalie says as she digs through her jacket pockets before pulling out a lone key without a ring.
She twists it in the lock, and the door opens with a keening creak that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The overcast winter day does nothing to illuminate the empty house. Beyond Natalie, all I can are shadowy outlines of the entryway and the dark depths of a hallway receding into the distance.
Maybe I was too quick to admire the place.
“Here’s hoping I actually paid the electricity,” Natalie says as she heads for the closest light switch. “It’s been a nightmare trying to sort out all the bills.”
There’s a half second’s delay after she flips the switch, but then a globe light above her head flickers on.
“Aha!” she crows. “Let there be light!”
