Hunting Death

Chapter 6

The front foyer, with its grand staircase and large banister, nearly took her breath away. She almost expected to see a crystal chandelier, though, so far, she noticed all the light fixtures appeared to be practical and energy efficient. Her father might have had more money than he would ever be able to spend in several lifetimes, but he didn't seem prone to waste. Everything looked tasteful and practical.

She found a master suite on the other side of the foyer, again, tastefully decorated, and comfortable.

Upstairs she looked at three more bedrooms, each with its own en suite, and an office with a fireplace. The largest suite upstairs, also the most masculine room she'd seen yet, had to be her father's. A single picture graced his nightstand, a picture of her as a baby.

Madison picked it up and her heart ached fiercely.

Looking around the room, she attempted to get a sense of the man that she'd been robbed of knowing, robbed of loving. Other than a small TV on his bureau, and a nightstand on either side of the large four-poster bed, she saw little else.

He'd kept the decor of the room simple with browns and reds while the other rooms were cool blues or light greens. His bathroom, another simple room when compared to the rest of the house, had floors with a wood look tile, and a large walk-in, stone shower. He had a soaker tub that looked like it had never been used, and the medicine cabinet had already been cleaned out.

Like the other bathrooms, it had clean towels and unopened toothbrushes, mouthwash, soaps. Everything ready for guests. For her.

The house also had paintings everywhere. Paintings of dogs, wolves, and horses. Native American artwork, sculptures, and statues. The kitchen was full of herbs and spices, the decor reminding her of an Italian restaurant with its wine and cheese theme.

The entire house looked like a showpiece waiting for someone to breathe some life into it.

Madison stood at the threshold to the office, looking in, some odd sensation she was unable to explain calling to her, pulling at her. One foot in front of the other, she reluctantly crossed into the room. Madison startled suddenly as something ran through her and hushed whispers floated around her head. She tried to concentrate, she tried to focus and listen to what they said to her, but she couldn't.

She'd never experienced anything like this before, and it both scared and fascinated her at the same time. The room seemed to be charged and teaming with electricity. The currents so strong they pulled on her from all directions.

Madison began to wander about the room curiously. She noticed first the small fireplace that sat opposite the large desk on the other side of the room. She ran her hands along a couple of bookshelves that held a mixture of books and antique knick-knacks. Some paintings hung on the walls, a few of horses, a wolf, and one in particular of a couple that drew her attention.

The was an oil painting of a gypsy woman and a medieval-looking man. As she stood there staring at the portrait, the little hairs on the back of her neck stood up. The man had a light skin tone and blonde hair, while the woman might have been her sister, they looked so much alike, she saw it in the eyes mostly, they had the same eyes and the same dark coloring.

Who was she? And what about this man?

A slight knock sounded from behind her, and instantly the whispers surrounding her vanished, the current in the room flatlining. She turned to find Keith in the doorway, a peculiar look on his face.

"Are you okay?" He asked with concern while standing his ground outside in the hall.

"Who is this?" Madison heard herself ask.