Whispering House: Northeastern Gothics, #3

By Lisa Greer

She wants a job; he wants a wife and an in heritance...

When Emerson arrives at Whispering House to care for her great aunt, all is not well. Whispers in the night and danger surround her. Rory Bendice, a nephew of her deceased great uncle, wants to marry her in order to inherit the house, while Dr. Colin Strozik appeals to her with his strength and kindness. 

Emerson must solve the mysteries of Whispering House before her time is up.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lisa Greer
• Release date: Jan 11, 2018
• ISBN: 9781536557633

Book preview

Chapter One

Think of it as a job—just until you land something permanent, her mother said, forced cheerfulness in her tone. Ellen McGrath was nothing if not brutally positive. Money is money, and it will be a place to live. Auntie Cate said she’d love to have you for as long as you’re available, and I know she needs your help right now. At least, she wants your company. I don’t know how feeble she really is. Her mother laughed softly. I know she’s been lonely since Raul passed on.

It’s hard to imagine that she is feeble, even after surgery. She’s always been so full of life and peppy, and you’re right about the money. Emerson bit back a sigh, gripping her cell phone tighter as her pulse quickened and unbidden worries threatened to invade her mind. Anxiety was trying to get the best of her these days.

After months of looking for something in her field of study after college, her hopes were dimming fast. College graduation was next week. The college fund her grandmother had left her was running out—though it had been generous—and the job at Buck’s Coffee as a barista was wearing thin. Graduate school was not her dream either, and she knew with a degree in engineering and an internship on her resume, she just had to wait for a decent offer. It was just slower in coming than she’d thought it might be. Emerson was holding on to her own apartment—just barely—on her low wages and waning funds. Her parents saw no reason to chip in any support since her grandmother had left her with a reasonable amount of support. She couldn’t blame them. They supported her enough by being her biggest fans, most of the time.

I know I’m right. That’s my job as your mother. Besides Auntie Cate just loves you. You always were her favorite.

That was true. Emerson smiled, remembering nights at the movies together when she would visit her great aunt in the summer years before and special gifts—better ones than her siblings received.

So, send me the details. She stifled a sigh.

I’ve already forwarded a copy of her letter to your email. I took a photo of it, her mom said.

Emerson laughed. That’s one way of doing it. I suppose she doesn’t use email.

Um, no. She doesn’t. Would you, if you were 94? It’s such a pain in the butt anyway.

I guess not, Emerson said, closing her eyes. Her fate was already sealed. She just had to make the trip to Pittsburgh, help her great aunt for a while, and hope this was short term.

* * * *

Two weeks later, she was on her way to Auntie Cate’s house from her small college town in New York. It had all been decided. Room and board were free—as long as she shopped for groceries within reason. Her pay would be $600/week—no paltry sum compared to the pittance she was making pulling part time work at the coffee shop at near minimum wage. She was on duty six days per week, with Saturdays off when a nurse would come in to check on Aunt Cate, and there would be some grace in that schedule, Aunt Cate had assured when Emerson had called her.

You are my great niece after all, and you’re young. I want you to enjoy yourself here—not just fuss over me! Her aunt had exclaimed.

Auntie, I’m a homebody mostly. Give me a good book and a cup of tea, and I’m happy. I doubt I’ll want to have many days off to hit the town. Emerson had replied wryly.

Be that as it may, don’t hesitate to ask. You remember that once you’re here. Her aunt had sniffed decidedly.

I will, Emerson had promised.

And she would. If there was any need to. With her lack of social and love life recently, she figured holing up in the old mansion would do her just fine.

Then Aunt Cate had said, I can’t wait for you to see the house! I realized you’ve never been here since I married Raul. God rest his sweet soul. Her great aunt’s voice was shaky.

When she thought about where her aunt lived, she had been thinking city. This was more country—miles of craggy rock off the side of the Pennsylvania Turnpike reminded her of the power of nature, and the sky blazed like an azure stone. It was a rare cloudless day in these parts that generally got