Victor and Kate’s house wasn’t far from Vi’s, though not quite as close as Ham and Rita’s. That old mansion hadn’t been for sale when Victor had sold his drunken house purchase and bought this one instead. This house was, in fact, much milder.
Vi honked the horn twice, but her brother didn’t come out, so she decided to go inside the house and look for herself. Two stories, airy bedrooms, the sound of baby laughter from up the stairs. Her brother was sitting in the parlor, in the dark, staring out the window. Kate stood at the top of the stairs and Vi met her gaze. She had a baby on each hip and a look of sadness on her face. Baby Agnes was crying while Vivi was twisting to get down.
“Victor!” Vi called cheerily. To Kate, Vi said, “I’ve got a plan.” She hurried into the parlor, Rita following.
He looked up, only noticing Vi a moment later. He rose slowly. “Vi.” He tried and failed at sounding cheery.
“Victor,” she said easily, glancing beyond him to Denny and his worried expression. “I need help. Time to suit up, brother.”
“Help with what?”
“Werewolves, pirates, treasure, winning. All of it.”
Victor nodded, and Vi didn’t need to see it to know he was pretending to be fine. That was fine, she thought. She could work with pretending.
“Do you want to come?” Vi asked Kate as she entered the parlor. Her expression suggested Kate should.
“Let me just leave the babies with Nanny Jane and change my shoes.”
“We’ll need to switch autos,” Rita announced, glancing out at Ham’s beloved vehicle.
“I’ll get Victor’s staid, boring auto.” Denny was out the door a moment later.
Victor met Vi’s gaze and too much passed between them—essays and monologues, endless communication—all in a glance. It was enough to get him adjusting his jacket and checking his pockets. “Where to?”
“Wherever the madness takes us.”
“I’ll need to be back for the girls,” Kate told Vi. “Maybe I should stay.”
Victor shook his head. “Please come.” He pulled her close to him and pressed a kiss on her eyebrow.
Vi smiled at Rita. “What is it about the eye kisses? Eyelids, eyebrows.”
“Fingertips,” Rita added. “They carry more weight for romance than one would ever expect.”
Victor looked down at Kate and then lifted her hand to his mouth and laid a kiss on each finger. Kate blushed furiously while Denny groaned at the front door.
“Not in front of other people, Victor. Even I know that. We’re ready to go.”
“Who knew Denny knew things?” Rita asked.
“A mystery for the ages,” Victor said with the first trace of good humor. They all paused too long before Victor groaned. “Let’s go already.”
“Exercise,” Vi told him. “Getting out of the house, counting your blessings, changing your surroundings, and moving until it feels better.”
She didn’t give him time to reply and rushed down the steps happily shouting, “I call chauffeur! I intend to turn Victor’s hair grey and make Denny weep.”
Chapter 12
“Where to?” Vi asked Rita. “Do you know who you bought the house from?”
“Who my father bought the house from? Yes.” Rita reached down to her feet and adjusted a bag that Vi hadn’t noticed before. She pulled out a bejeweled goblet and tossed it at Victor. “Decipher clues. The surviving child, Theodette, married Anthony Hill,” she said to Vi.
“Hill?” Vi asked too carefully. “From Hill House?”
“Yes,” Rita said, “Theodette Hill is…nice, I suppose.”
“Nice?” Vi asked. “You suppose?”
“Anthony Hill, he’s not, well…”
“New money?” Vi asked, guessing.
“He’s from an old line.”
“An old line who lost everything by not adapting but hanging onto their arrogance. They aren’t going to like us.” Especially Vi after her drunken, late night-early morning telephone call.
“But,” Rita said, “they’re not the only ones we can talk to. There’s also an aunt. Harriet.”
Vi lifted her head.
“She told me all about the house. Asked to come by and give me the tour and she lives in the village in a pretty little cottage with rose vines climbing the side.”
“Did you let her?”
“I told her she could come when we got back from Norway.”
“What a perfect day for a tour of your own house.”
Rita grinned. “I didn’t tell Ham about it. Just said she was a chattering old woman who wanted to talk about the old days, and he didn’t ask anything else about it.”
“A treasure hunt?” The old woman’s eyes were wide and they moved between the group of friends as Rita plunked the goblet down on Harriet’s worn table. Slowly, Harriet picked it up.
“This thing.” She shook her head and then handed it back to Rita. “Turn it upside down.”
Rita turned it over and held it up, so everyone else could see.
“It looks like scratches,” Denny said.
“It’s been very carefully kept, however,” Harriet assured them. “My cousin always thought those scratches were a map, but he could never find where it went.”
“Surely it would be in the ruins somewhere,” Rita suggested as she poured Harriet Prescott a cup of tea.
“Would it?” Harriet asked with a laugh. Her voice was filled with humor as she looked around the table. “It was my cousin who was the source of all those rumors about it. We looked everywhere.” Harriet shook her head and then asked, “Did our stories really cause people to ransack your houses?”
“They did,” Vi told him. “I believe your cousin has quite the admirer in a man named Edward Hollands.”
Harriet frowned. “You know…I think I’ve met him. He did love Oscar’s stories. Oscar brought him by the house once but of course, Father wouldn’t let him see the goblet. Said the goblet ruined Oscar’s life, and Father didn’t want it to ruin young Mr. Hollands’s life as well.”
“Did your cousin tell anyone else about the treasure?”
Harriet laughed again and then bit into a biscuit. “Oh that is lovely.” In answer to the question, she said, “He told anyone who would listen to him.”
“Do you think it’s real?” Victor asked with a charm that hadn’t been seen for days. “Was this treasure
