The Estate: Alyssa Bristol's Second Adventure

By Mike Bowerbank

The haunted house isn't really haunted.

The scheming heirs aren't really scheming.

The crooked lawyer isn't really crooked.

Only one of those statements is true.

 

Alyssa Bristol was hired to house-sit at an estate home, but can she also deal with unpleasant heirs, an arrogant lawyer, and (quite possibly) a ghost?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Bowerbank
• Release date: Jun 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201369040

Mike Bowerbank

I'm a Canadian author who has a fascination with what makes people tick. The dynamic between people and their chemistry can create some truly amazing interactions. I try to capture such moments in my novels.I published my first novel in 2015 and have been loving the journey ever since.I have a wonderful family. "Wonderful" in that I look at them and wonder... while they look at me and wonder... we are all full of wonder.

Book preview

Prologue:

In the few months since Alyssa’s abduction, she graduated from high school and had recently been accepted into Langara College, where she planned to put her biology and chemistry skills to good use as a future laboratory technician.

Alyssa had also been making some progress with her new friend Abby Lunay. Abby has a severe neurological condition, which leaves her in a mostly comatose state. Strong alcoholic drinks have allowed Abby to function, but at the price of her mind, health, and body. Alyssa has been trying a mix of herbal medications, based around the Ixtacia herb, and has had some limited success.

Abby is unable to spend much time with Alyssa for the experiments, though, as she continues to do special work for Marcus Coltrane, the owner of the bar Abby works at.

Alyssa is currently working a temporary summer job at a law firm, blissfully unaware of what is about to happen to her in three days’ time...

Friday, July 7, at 2:15 a.m.

Three days from today...

A shuffling sound caused Alyssa to stir from her slumber and open her eyes. She had left the bedside lamp on, and was squinting in an effort to see what the noise was. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and gasped. Abby Lunay was standing at her bedside, holding a fourteen-inch kitchen knife. The blade was gleaming, as it was reflecting the light of the lamp.

What are you doing? Alyssa croaked with a dry throat.

Abby stood there. Her eyelids were open, but only the whites of her eyes were visible. Her hair was askew and her face was devoid of expression. She was gripping the handle of the knife so tight, her knuckles appeared to be as white as her eyes.

Abby, you’re really scaring me right now. Alyssa began to tremble, while her heart raced. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her body, and her desire to run away and scream were tempered by her competing desire of remaining as still as possible. Please put that knife down.

Abby raised the blade and Alyssa screamed.

Tuesday, July 4, at 8:16am

Today...

Alyssa Bristol walked at a brisk pace along the east corridor of law firm Dryden-Halbeck in order to keep up with her supervisor, Sylvana, whose heels echoed upon the polished hardwood flooring. Without missing a step, Sylvana continued her barrage of questions.

And are you fully familiar with all the mailroom procedures?

Yes, I got the run-down when I started last week. Alyssa quickened her pace, so as to stay alongside Sylvana. Colin and Melody told me what I had to do while you were away on vacation.

Did you get everything sorted out with Human Resources?

Yes, they had me all set up and ready to go on day one, Alyssa nodded as she walked. Thank you.

I’ve told them before how much I disapprove of them making someone’s start date fall on days when I am away, Sylvana huffed. Nevertheless, we needed a clerk immediately, so it is what it is. Now, let’s go and get you started on today’s copy jobs in the mailroom. She flung open the door and strode inside, with Alyssa following closely. Alyssa stopped to grab the stack of copying jobs in the wire basket beside the door, and began to prioritize them as she walked.

The mailroom was quite a large space, but it was densely packed. One entire wall was made up of shelves and metal racking, filled with stationary, copy paper, toner, binders, and a wide array of office supplies. In front of those shelves were two large copy machines, arranged back-to-back. The opposite wall had a long, deep counter, upon which were an assortment of equipment, such as document scanners, binding machines, postage meter and scale, and even an older fax machine.

Alyssa was standing in front of one of the copiers, while Sylvana hovered nearby. While you get those jobs sorted, I have another question. I heard from Marjorie in HR that your grandparents were lawyers. Is that true?

Yes, Alyssa grabbed the first stack of pages for copying. My grandmother was the Managing Partner over at Devlin-Kirschner.

What was her name?

Alyssa took the staples out of the pages. Irena Bellantoni.

Interesting, Sylvana stared at her for a moment. Was she any relation to Leo Bellantoni?

Leo was her husband, and my grandfather, so a big yes to that. She put the pages into the copier’s hopper and pressed the start button. How do you know him?

Sylvana picked up some envelopes from the receiving tray and began to flip through them. He was a senior lawyer here years ago. She spoke in a louder voice so she could be heard over the sound of the copier. He was announcing his retirement back when I first started. His portrait is hanging up in the lawyers’ lounge.

I knew he was a big-time lawyer, but I’m kind of embarrassed I didn’t know which firm he was with.

I suppose that’s enough chatter for now, Sylvana flashed an insincere smile. I’ll leave you to get these jobs done.

8:52 a.m.

Abby Lunay sat on the edge of the steep-pitched roof outside the window of a two-story building with a bottle in her hand. The thirty-two-ounce bottle had been full not too long ago, but was now at least twenty ounces lighter. Abby’s legs dangled over the edge, and she kicked lazily at the unseasonably damp and misty air. She took another swallow of the clear alcohol, then wiped the corners of her eyes with her already-moist sleeve.

Abby glared at the falling drizzle, then glared at a nearby tree, then glared with even more intensity into the narrow alley below. She was in the mood to glare at anything and everything which had the misfortune of being within her line of sight. Her now-damp clothes did nothing to keep her warm, and she began to shiver, which only served to annoy her that much more. She sighed.

Why am I never good enough?

Abby took another swig as she replayed her recent conversation with Marcus Coltrane – her employer, landlord, and caretaker – in her mind. She had scored big during the previous evening’s break-in. The small medical office she had accessed specialized partly in ergonomics, partly in orthopedics, and majorly in insurance fraud. Abby had been so proud of the distraction she had caused which allowed her to climb in completely undetected through the third-story window to the main office.

Abby had tied a medium-sized rock to a carefully-measured length of cord. She had tied the other end of the cord to the gutter on the roof and then tossed the rock into the rainy air. The cord had stretched until it was taut, and then the rock swooped down in an arc and connected sharply with the centre of the front window, completely shattering it. As the guard had rushed down the stairs to investigate, Abby had accessed the office window, leapt into the room, and immediately went to work on breaking into the safe.

Within two minutes, the safe door opened and she grabbed the two zipped-up fabric deposit bags, then exited via the same window. She climbed back onto the roof, then leapt from one rooftop to another until she was at the end of the block, at which point she climbed the fire escape down to the street. From there, she made her way back to Marcus’ bar.

Marcus broke the deposit bag zippers with a hammer and then poured the rolls of cash out onto the table in his office. Abby grinned as he counted it. She was proud of the heist, and fully expected to be praised for the haul. What she didn’t count on was for Marcus to turn and frown at her.

You’re still behind, Abby, he had said. This only finishes June’s quota, and we’re into the first week of July. You need to step it up.

Abby couldn’t stop staring at the hammer on the table, and it frightened her. She fought the urge to grab it and take a swing at Marcus’ head. She sometimes had those kinds of violent thoughts, and they made her heart hurt and her eyes water. There was nothing for it, but to leave and retreat to her room until the urge passed. Each time, the urge was taking longer to pass, and Abby was worried one day she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from hurting someone – or worse.

Marcus’ office was at the back of the bar, and beside it was a metal door leading to a flight of stairs. The upstairs area was rather small compared to the ground floor. There was one large storeroom, where the cases of alcohol and operational supplies were stored, and then a second smaller storage room, where seasonal decorations and neatly-stacked spare chairs were kept. Abby had a cot in that smaller storage room, and it was her home.

When she was filled with feelings she didn’t know how to process, she would often climb onto the narrow ledge of the roof outside of her window and sit there, from where she was currently glaring. She put the bottle to her lips and gulped the next swallow, then wiped her eyes again, and wondered, as she had all of the previous evening, if she’d ever feel whole.

9:18 a.m.

Good morning. A smiling, sweet-looking, older woman entered the mailroom holding up two spiral-bound legal documents. Who can do this rush copy job for me?

That’s for me. Alyssa stepped over to take them from her. I’ll handle it for you. Is this the file number on the yellow sticky note?

Yes, thank you. The woman flashed a wide smile at her. We haven’t met yet, dear. I’m Gail.

Hi, Gail, Alyssa smiled back. I’m Alyssa.

Yes, I assumed as much. Gail beamed. You’re the new girl. We get an email notifying us when there’s someone new here.

I didn’t think anyone read those.

They don’t, really, Gail cackled. But I did read that one. So, I’ll need the job done by eleven, and I need two copies of each.

I’ll get right on it.

And you started here last Monday, is that right?

Yes, you’re right, Alyssa inspected the copy job. So, I’ve been here just over a week now.

Ah, good idea starting in the mailroom, Gail took one of Alyssa’s hands and patted it. And then it’s onwards and upwards from there, right?

For now, I’ll start with onwards, Alyssa shrugged, and then see whether it goes upwards, downwards, or completely sideways.

Gail again cackled, and released Alyssa’s hand. I see you have a sense of humour.

Yes, Alyssa stepped over to the copier and set it up for Gail’s job. I’m hoping it helps me through each day while I’m here.

Oh, heavens, no, Gail made a face. This is a law firm, dear, we take points off for having a sense of humour.

Er...

It was just a joke, Alyssa. Gail walked toward the door. I’ll be back at eleven to pick up the copies.

Alyssa waved. I’ll have everything ready for you by then.

9:20 a.m.

Sylvana walked into the break room, which was where she went whenever she was looking for Colin any time he wasn’t in the mailroom. She saw him sitting down and tapping on the screen of his phone.

Colin, when you’re back from your break, can you take over the Dhaliwal copying job?

No, why should I? Colin scowled. It’s Alyssa’s job, so make her do it.

She’s doing the rush copying job for Mr. Zanetti which Gail just gave her. Sylvana never knew quite how to deal with Colin, so decided she would ignore what he said and continue. I can get Alyssa to do the Dhaliwal job if you’ll take over for her.

No way. Colin stood up from his seat. "I’m never doing another rush copy job for Salvatore ‘Never-Work-in-This-Town-Again’ Zanetti. I’ll do the Dhaliwal job."

Great. She has to do the job for Susan Vineberg after that, so Alyssa has a full plate. The Dhaliwal job is due in an hour.

It was a nice two weeks while Zanetti was away, Colin muttered as he pocketed his phone, but now that he’s back from his business trip, we’re going to get flooded with his stupid rush jobs again.

Sylvana followed him out of the break room. Alyssa seems to be okay working on those jobs.

Colin scoffed. Which only proves she has half a brain and no sense of self-preservation. Better her than me.

Colin entered the mailroom. Sylvana came in behind him, and Alyssa nodded to her in greeting.

Sylvana stood beside Alyssa. So, how’s the copy job coming along?

Just fine, Alyssa grinned. Don’t worry, I’ll get it done for Gail on time.

Good. Sylvana tapped her finger on the lid of the copier. It’s for the head of our Wills and Estates department, you know, so it has to be done right. Have you met him yet?

No, I haven’t met any of the lawyers, yet. Alyssa pressed the green button to do the next batch of pages. Hardly any of them ever come in here. I deal with their assistants who give me a file number but no names, so I don’t even know what lawyer’s job I’m working on at any moment. Is there something I should know about the head of Wills and Estates?

Yes, make sure he gets anything he wants. Sylvana said every word with wide eyes. Every staff member is afraid of him.

Why are they afraid?

He’s a very demanding pompous blowhard, and he can be rather abrupt, so everyone tenses up whenever he’s around. Sylvana leaned in as though imparting a deep secret. "I saw him say good morning to Peter in the IT Department, and it scared Peter so much, he burst into tears."

If he’s that bad, then why doesn’t anyone complain about him?

Are you kidding? Sylvana folded her arms. He bills more in twenty minutes than either of us make in a week. In fact, your hourly rate is less than what he earns in the time it takes him to sneeze. If the firm has to choose between the lawyer with a stick up his butt and any one of us, who do you think they’re going to pick?

Forget I asked.

11:30 a.m.

The mailroom door flung open and a tall, older, barrel-chested man in an immaculate dark-grey, pin-striped suit marched inside. The workers in the mailroom all tensed up, froze, and held their breath. These were typical reactions in whichever environment Salvatore Zanetti entered.

Where is Alyssa? he boomed.

No-one answered. Instead every head turned until all eyes were on Alyssa, who stood, wide-eyed, in front of the photocopier.

That would be me, sir. Alyssa felt as though someone had placed her face inside an oven.

You, he pointed at Alyssa. Accompany me to my office.

But Sylvana told me I can’t leave here until I’m finished with this job for Ms. Vineberg.

Zanetti threw a glance at the rapidly-paling supervisor, who reacted with career-saving speed. No, Alyssa, just leave Vineberg’s job for now. He is always our top priority.

Okay. Alyssa shrugged and walked toward the door.

This way. Zanetti held the door open and she left the room. He let the door close behind him.

As the door closed, the mailroom staff collectively exhaled at once and resumed their work.

Wow, fired a week into the job, Colin giggled. What a loser.

Melody put a new stack of papers into the scanner and pressed the green button on the machine to begin the job. She only lasted, what? A little over a week? That’s got to be a new record.

Colin, Sylvana said. Take over Alyssa’s job.

Forget it, I’m heading on a break.

Fine, Sylvana said, deflated. Then do it when you come back.

11:32 a.m.

After Alyssa entered Mr. Zanetti’s office, he closed the door, then walked behind his shiny, rosewood desk and he sat down in his black leather chair.

Sit. He waved at the chair in front of his desk.

Alyssa resented the canine-sounding command, but her feet were tired from standing all morning, and wanted to sit anyway. She walked across his forest-green rug and sat down in one of the soft-leather burgundy client chairs. Was there a problem with the copy job I did for you this morning?

Yes, I was completely outraged when it was brought to me.

What did I get wrong on it?

No, the job itself was adequately done. Mr. Zanetti picked up his phone and punched in four digits. A moment passed. Gail? Move my conference call with Sir Howarth to three o’clock. Right. And no calls until further notice. Yes.

He hung up his phone and Alyssa cleared her throat. "If the job was done adequately, then why am I here, sir?"

Sir? Zanetti erupted into a short but hearty laugh. Alyssa, I’m not sure how this escaped you, but I’m Salvatore Zanetti.

"Wait, you’re my Uncle Sal?"

"Here at work, you are to call me Mr. Zanetti, like everyone else, but outside of the office, you are welcome to call me Uncle Sal."

"Mom told me I had an Uncle Sal, and that he had arranged a summer job for me at Uncle Leo’s former law firm, but I didn’t clue in until just now that he – I mean, you – were a practising lawyer at that same firm. I just figured I had an uncle who knew someone who was hiring here and put in a good word for me."

I’ve already heard some promising things about you, young lady.

And I can say the same about you. Grandpa Leo always spoke highly of you, though he never mentioned anything about you being a lawyer. At least not to me, anyway. It’s so nice to finally meet you.

You may not recall this, but we met once before, just briefly, five years ago at Leo’s funeral. Zanetti looked at her. I can see you’re all grown up now.

I’m sorry I don’t remember you, but I must have met three or four hundred people at the funeral, so the entire day is just a big blur in my memory.

It was a memorable service for a truly remarkable man.

Until the funeral, I had no idea my grandfather knew so many people. Alyssa slowly shook her head as she recalled the event. He was always so soft-spoken, so I just assumed he didn’t know too many people. What I do remember was how the cathedral was jam-packed and overflowing with so many of his friends, family members, and colleagues.

Yes, it did my heart a lot of good to see a turnout of that size.

I think Grandpa Leo said you were the son of his father’s brother, is that right?

Yes, your grandfather and I were first-cousins. Zanetti sat back in his chair. My father was your Great Uncle Lorenzo.

I’m pretty sure I’ve seen photos of him in my mother’s album.

How is your mother? Zanetti frowned. I noticed her at the funeral, but haven’t spoken to her in more than thirty years.

You should have said hi. Alyssa shifted in her seat. Mom’s an introvert like I am, so she doesn’t reach out to people very often unless she has to. She loves the entire family but hates the idea of actually interacting with them.

Zanetti made a face. Is she still married to that German-Irish disaster?

"The disaster, as you call him, has a name, and it’s Malcolm."

"Yes, Malcolm, of course. Zanetti looked as though he had just tasted the world’s sourest candy. When your mother was your age, we all hoped she would marry Alessandro, who today owns a string of highly-profitable up-scale clothing stores. We tried to set them up, but your mother was steadfast in her refusal, and it devastated poor Alessandro."

Seriously? Alyssa’s eyes grew wide. I had no idea my mom left any broken hearts behind.

She certainly did, the poor soul. Zanetti’s brow furrowed. Once your mother refused to go out with him, Alessandro never got married after that. He’s been having to share a one-bedroom apartment with another fellow for all these years, the poor, shattered soul. I’ll never understand why she wouldn’t go out with him.

Umm... I think I might have an obvious theory about that.

"She wouldn’t date anyone else we suggested either, but then at the drop of the proverbial hat, she runs off and gets married to that utter... to your father."

Once you get past the many layers of cynicism, and I can’t emphasize enough how many layers there actually are, my dad’s great. Alyssa nodded. "He’s just private and... intense. He’s very, very intense."

Is he still a security guard?

He was never a security guard. Alyssa shook her head. "He’s a security consultant for governments and global companies."

Zanetti steepled his fingers. Alyssa, you’re going to do two things for me.

Oh, um... I am?

Yes. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. First, you’re going to bring your parents to my house for dinner tonight.

I’ll have to ask them.

"No you won’t ask them, you’ll tell them to clear their calendars. Zanetti’s stare felt to Alyssa as though it would burn itself right through her. I’ll have Gail send you my address, and I’ll expect all three of you at my front door this evening at seven sharp."

Alyssa began to feel uncomfortably warm. And what’s the second thing?

I have a work-related project for you. He gestured in her direction with his hand. "I’ll inform your supervisor and the Office Manager that I’ll be