The door did not squeak, which surprised him.
What was on the other side, however. . . shocked the ever loving hell out of him.
The third floor was a cavernous space with old- fashioned, rough- hewn floorboards and a ceiling that sloped at a steep angle on either side. Down at the far end, there was a table with an oil lamp on it and the glow turned the smooth walls into a golden yellow. . . as well as illuminated the black boots of whoever was sitting in a chair just outside the pool of light.
Big boots.
And suddenly, there was no question who the SOB was and what he'd done.
"I have you on tape," Gregg said to the figure.
The soft laugh that came back at him made Gregg's adrenal gland go into overdrive: Low and cold, it was the kind of sound killers made when they were about to get to work with a knife.
"Do you. " That accent. What the fuck was it? Not French. . . not Hungarian. . .
Whatever. The idea Holly had been taken advantage of made him taller and stronger than he really was. "I know what you did. The night before last. "
"I'd tell you to take a chair, but as you can see, I only have one. "
"I'm not fucking around. " Gregg took a step forward. "I know what happened with her. She didn't want you. "
"She wanted the sex. "
Motherfucking asshole. "She was asleep. "
"Was she. " The boot tip swung up and down. "Appearances, like psyches, can be deceiving. "
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
"I own this fine house. That is who I am. I'm the one who gave you permission to play with all your cameras. "
"Well, you can kiss that shit good-bye now. I'm not advertising this place. "
"Oh, I think you will. It's in your nature. "
"You don't know dick about me. "
"I think it's the other way around. You don't know. . . dick, as you call it. . . about yourself. She said your name, by the way. When she came. "
This made Gregg furious, to the point that he took another step forward.
"I would be careful there," the voice said. "You don't want to get hurt. And I'm considered to be insane. "
"I'm calling the police. "
"You have no cause. Consenting adults and all that. "
"She was asleep!"
That boot shifted around and planted on the ground. "Watch your tone, boy. "
Before there was time to get fired up about the insult, the man leaned forward in the chair. . . and Gregg lost his voice.
What came into the light made no sense. On a shitload of levels.
It was the portrait. From downstairs in the parlor. Only living and breathing. The only difference was that the hair was not pulled back; it was down over shoulders that were two times the size of Gregg's and the stuff was black and red.
Oh, God. . . those eyes were the color of the sunrise, gleaming and peach-colored.