Episode 19. Blue, Old, New (2)
With a thud, James Stranden ran out with a smile, grasping the door handle as I knocked.
“Liam! And Liam’s—”
“Assistant.”
“Oh, having such a lovely person as an assistant, you must be quite clueless. Anyway, Miss Assistant, thank you for coming all this way.”
Damn, the “Mrs. Moore Event.” I shook hands with James awkwardly. He greeted us warmly, only releasing my hand after his welcoming speech.
As we were being shown to our rooms, Liam spoke up.
“I’d like the room next to hers.”
James Stranden’s eyes widened at that.
Liam Moore replied nonchalantly.
“We have a lot of work.”
There was none. Liam Moore was an incredibly diligent man, the type who couldn’t stand work piling up even for an event like this. He had finished a massive amount of work frantically until yesterday, allowing us to come here comfortably.
James Stranden looked at us with surprised eyes, as if asking if I was okay with this. But I was used to Liam’s behavior and could answer calmly.
“Yes, we have a few cases that came in. We’ll probably need to keep working.”
“Then there’s no choice,” James replied.
With that, the room next to mine was assigned to Liam. James, holding a bunch of keys, pointed to the door. There was another door inside Liam’s room, which seemed to connect to my room.
“Technically, these connecting doors are locked, but I’ll leave the key with Miss Assistant. You’ll need it for work.”
He handed me an old key, which fit perfectly in the lock. It seemed that all the guest rooms in the mansion were meticulously managed. I was satisfied, knowing we could easily access each other’s rooms in case of an emergency. My mind flashed to emergency exit plans from the cinema.
In case of fire, run to Liam Moore. In case of murder, open the door to Liam Moore.
Listing these out made him seem like an emergency exit himself. I chuckled subtly.
“Then, rest up a bit. There’s a bachelor party this evening, so I’ll borrow this friend for a bit. Oh, if you haven’t had lunch yet, why don’t you join us? I’d like to introduce you to my fiancée.”
Liam and I exchanged glances. Our answers came simultaneously.
“We’ll unpack and come down right away.”
“We’ll unpack and come down right away.”
＊ ＊ ＊
Red carpet covered the stairs and hallway. It was so red it looked like blood.
Blink. A lingering image overlapped before my eyes. A pale woman lying in the hallway.
“!”
I rubbed my eyes and looked at the carpet again. It was clean.
I must be tired, I thought, staring at the red carpet when someone moved busily behind me. It was Liam Moore.
As soon as James Stranden left, Liam took out a bottle of something, popped the lid, and began spraying it on the window frames and door frames. Then he opened another bottle and sprayed it around the armchair in the room.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
It was baffling to see him spraying something everywhere as if there were germs, despite not being a germaphobe. Liam Moore was the type who could casually eat a biscuit dropped on a dirty carpet in a boarding house.
“Are you crazy? Why would you eat that? Are you starving?” I had questioned once.
“I picked it up within three seconds, so it’s fine.”
That was Liam Moore. He was indifferent to dirt and germs unless they were causing death. Usually, he didn’t care much.
Yet here he was, inspecting every nook and cranny, even behind picture frames. It was shocking. Wait.
My thoughts paused.
This isn’t about being a germaphobe….
“…You’re looking for something, aren’t you?”
Liam froze, then resumed. Thinking I wouldn’t notice with all that fuss was naive. Then, quietly, in a resonant voice, he made a request.
“Jane, no matter what happens, if you sense anything strange, do not, under any circumstances, let anyone into the room.”
“…Into the room?”
“I’ve taken temporary measures, but we can’t be sure. If I’m not here, don’t let anyone in. If someone gets in without your permission—”
He pointed to the armchair.
“Do not get up from that chair.”
His face was serious. He seemed certain that something or someone would come looking for me in his absence. What it was, neither of us knew, but it seemed to unsettle him. Judging by his expression, he wanted to lock the door and wait it out.
“I will.”
I spoke again.
“I’ll do as you say.”
Finally, Liam relaxed his shoulders.
“I won’t be gone long. If anything happens, come over to my room….”
“Alright, alright. Let’s head to the dining room, you worrywart detective.”
Liam smiled faintly. We left the room and headed to the dining room.
Thinking back, I probably felt it around then. The air inside and outside the room seemed different. Whether it was foresight or my body’s instinctual recognition of danger, I didn’t know. But clearly, very clearly.
The air outside the door where Liam sprayed was sticky and damp, uncomfortable. It felt like summer humidity, but with a chill. Like a classroom soaked during the rainy season, with the air conditioner blasting cold air.
Liam glanced around the hallway as my complexion worsened. Then he said,
“It’s okay, it’s just the weather.”
“I might be tired.”
“Yes, it could be that.”
I should have paid attention to more than just the view in front of me. Observed where Liam’s gaze lingered, what he was seeing. Whether his words were true or just meant to reassure me.
Soon, the unsettling feeling vanished, and the air returned to normal.
＊ ＊ ＊
When we arrived at the dining room, there were several other guests. James Stranden sat at the head, with a lovely blonde lady beside him. They looked to be about the same age, and their soft, bright demeanor made them seem like a perfect match.
Smiling gently, the lady nodded. I returned the gesture and took my seat.
There was an elegant middle-aged woman, a slender man, a chubby man with a jovial demeanor, and a man with a soldierly appearance at the table. All seemed around the same age except for the middle-aged woman.
The chubby man exclaimed loudly,
“Oh! You, you’re Moore, right? Liam Moore!”
“…Hmm.”
Liam had a troubled look again. Others might see a blank expression, but I knew. That face was him struggling to recall who this person was. I suppressed a laugh as the man continued.
“I’m Philip from the geography department. It’s understandable if you don’t remember me. We were in different departments.”
But how do you know him? Liam and I thought the same thing.
“I thought I had forgotten an old classmate. Truly an unfamiliar face.”
Liam spoke surprisingly sociably.
“Geography department, huh?”
Philip replied,
“You were quite famous in our school. Liam Moore from the law department! Everyone knew you. Students from different faculties would flood in just to catch a glimpse of you.”
Really? I asked with my expression. Liam across from me firmly shut his lips, denying it. But I knew. This was something only he didn’t know.
Listening to Philip talk about their school days, dishes started coming out. Salads with tangy dressing and finely cut salmon, grilled mullet with lemon juice—beautifully plated.
James Stranden said to Liam,
“Perfect timing, a bit later and you would’ve missed our chef’s amazing appetizers.”
Liam, unfolding his napkin over his lap, replied smoothly,
“That’s fortunate.”
Just as I was about to take a bite of the salad with finely chopped salmon—
—thud!
Something fell outside the window.