The mansion at midnight had a creepy, haunted vibe that sent a chill down Maybelle’s spine. She tiptoed down the hall past all the suites toward the elevator. She’d noticed when they’d checked in certain floors were only accessible with a key, but she was ready to explore every and any area she could get to.
Sleep had evaded her, and she thought about soaking in the tub until her mind had shut down, but she hadn’t wanted to disturb Will, who’d been sawing logs in his room. She’d put him through enough to add sleep deprivation on top of it.
The elevator doors shut with a soft zip and she let her forefinger dance over several of the floors until landing on four. A little unnerved by the silence, she hummed under her breath, daydreaming of Garreth’s dimpled chin and nervous yet strong looking hands. The ghost of his touch crept over her wrist, and she smiled. Please let it have been an interested move, she thought.
The doors opened and she peered out, lowering her humming so it didn’t echo off the picture adorned walls. Her gaze fell over the paintings, amusement tilting the corner of her mouth. She’d expected portraits of some royal family, maybe even Winter’s parents or some indication of her upbringing. Her character in the murder mystery had a princess title, but it could very well pertain to Winter’s real life. Maybelle knew all about Winter Garland’s famous parents, one in politics, the other in Hollywood. She was nothing if not a thorough researcher and as soon as she’d booked the Frostville suite, she’d educated herself on the mansion and its owner.
She squinted and leaned forward, admiring the pink paint strokes that made up the poodle’s head. The painting was appropriately titled “Pink Poodle” and it hung next to “Violet Vulture” and “Green Gorilla.”
“I think I like her,” she mused, admiring Winter’s quirky taste in art. She followed the colored animal paintings all the way to a back window. She leaned against the golden railing and sighed at the city lights, so different from the county she’d grown up in. If she had the money, she’d park her booty in the middle of Las Vegas or Manhattan and live there for the rest of her days.
A glimmer caught the corner of her eye, and she scooched over, trying to get a good look at the water reflecting the outside lights. It had to either be a fountain or a pool, but it wasn’t the water that had her attention; it was the marble statue set off just to the side. A man. A man with a quiver of arrows and a bow at the ready.
She pushed off the railing, rushing past the animal art and mashing the button for the elevator. It was ground level, the statue, hanging out on the south eastern side of the mansion, and though Maybelle was horrid with directions, she was going to scour the place to find it.
Her robe rustled against her pajama shorts as she scurried out of the elevator and through hallway after hallway on the main level. Security personnel would nod at her as she wandered around, but didn’t offer up any good directions. One man whose beard would make Will mad jealous pointed aimlessly while spouting off left turns and right turns while Maybelle gave him a blank stare. She got lost after the second direction and decided to head back to the main staircase to get her bearings.
“Geez, this place is like that movie,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and thinking of Labyrinth. At least Frostville seemed monster free so far.
She let out a sigh and decided to use her nose. If it was a pool, it ought to smell.
She sniffed around, looking more like a basset hound than a paying guest, following the faint scent of chlorine down a long hallway just past the lounge. The light dimmed, and a promising blue glow filled the space around her. As soon as she’d taken one more turn, a set of glass double doors led out to a massive indoor pool.
Her shoulders slumped. Dagnabbit. She thought she’d finally found the elusive Cupid, but she’d forgotten the mansion hosted much more than one pool.
Accepting defeat, she slugged forward, pressing gently on the door handle. It swung open silently, and she grinned. Every door back home could be used as the Monroe’s security system. Frostville must stock up on the WD40.
Her feet slipped on the tile near the five-foot end of the bean shaped pool, her eyes drifting to the circular hot tub. Everything was so calm—eerily calm. Maybelle wasn’t used to such quiet, such undisturbed furnishings. She licked her lips, found the controls for the hot tub jets, and let them go wild. The bubbling echoed through the room, soothing her nerves.
“This place really could be haunted,” she said to herself, her voice bouncing off the walls. “It’s way too quiet to be real.”
The water bubbled in response, and she laughed, dipping her toe and splashing amongst the small waves. She could absolutely get in, clothes and all. The hot tub was warm and tickled her feet; if there were towels she was totally doing it.
Careful not to slip, she wandered around the edge of the pool looking for a closet or a basket… something that had towels. She knew this wasn’t a hotel, but the mansion sure behaved that way sometimes.
Lucky for her, she found a stash of fresh, folded towels in a closet just outside the pool room, along with a floating donut she wanted to take for a spin at some point during her stay. She stripped her robe and draped it over a lounger, made sure the towel was within reach, and stepped into the bubbling hot water.
“Ahhhh,” she sighed, loud enough that she probably woke someone directly above her. It’d been forever since she’d sat in a hot tub, letting the jets pummel the small of her back and the bubbles tickle her toes. She closed her eyes and grinned, her shorts and tank top floating to the surface until she pushed them back into place.
Heaven help me, I don’t think I’ll ever leave this spot as long as I live.
She relaxed further, her body floating to the surface like it always did. When they were kids, Maybelle would tease Will for sinking like a rock to the bottom of the pool while all she had to do was relax and bob to the top. He’d tease her about her floating abilities preventing her from diving. If she lost a piece of jewelry to the depths of six feet or more, it was hopelessly lost unless she convinced her brother to save it.
Her eyes fluttered open, the heat from the hot tub fogging the glass windows that surrounded her. Through the steam, she could almost see the perfect silhouette of the statue she’d spotted earlier, either her mind playing tricks on her or the spirit of Eros truly did exist.
She pursed her lips and sat upright to keep from floating away. “Hey there,” she said to the steam. “I tried to find your statue but this place is a maze.”
She laughed at her own joke, paying no mind to how silly she sounded, how silly she was being. Desperate times…
“I ‘spose if you’re a spirit, I can talk to ya pretty much anywhere.” The windows continued to fog, and her confidence grew. It was oddly private, this massive pool in this massive house. “I don’t know how this goes,” she continued, running her hands over bubbles. “When I pray to my God, there’s usually a pattern to it, gratitude, blessings, expression of love… I’m not quite sure how it works with you, but I’ll do my best.”
Her fingers disappeared beneath the surface. She really needed to repaint her nails.
“I know you probably get a lot of people through this place. There are loads to choose from, probably more… appealing candidates this time around, but… Well, if you got an extra arrow, would ya mind shootin’ it my way?”
She quickly changed tones, her voice speedily trying to rationalize why she should be the one to find love. “I know it’s selfish to ask, really, and I don’t want to be selfish, but I’m kinda desperate, too, ya know? I’m thirty-six and… no one seems to want me. I’ve run outta options back home, and the internet hasn’t been too kind. There’s a man I already like here, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s just another cruel joke from mother nature to fall for someone who doesn’t… who won’t…”
Her voice grew thick, the air around her hard to breathe. She pushed up out of the hot water and slid to the edge of the pool, dangling her legs over the side. The sudden coolness sent a spike of goosebumps up and down her skin, but it loosened the tightness in her lungs.
“I got a lot to offer,” she continued, swinging her legs lazily in the water. “I’ll learn to cook. Promise I will. I’m told I’m fun and friendly. I don’t have much money, but I got killer drive. I’d be a good wife, a good mother… I really do got a lot of love to give. All I need is someone to give some back, is all.” She glanced up at the mist clinging to the window. “Help me out?”
She sat for a moment, waiting for a sign or something. After a minute the jets on the hot tub shut off, and the room fell silent yet again.
Silent… all except for a small cough that echoed like a boom box through the room, buzzing in Maybelle’s ears.
Her eyes widened, and she gasped, clutching at her chest. Michael stood at the doorway, propped against the open door. Amusement danced in his dark eyes as he looked her up and down.
“Let me guess,” he said with a smile. “You want to know how long I’ve been standing here.”