Legacy of Danger

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Dkany Home Evanston, Illinois

The chimes on the doorbell clanged.

Elena jumped. “Dear God.” She let out a sigh and bent over, almost hyperventilating.

Marina swung around. “You okay?”

Elena shook her head and placed her hands on her knees. She gasped and realized she really could breathe. Then she giggled. “I don’t think so, not with Jan wandering around here unannounced.”

“Elena Dkany—ghostbuster.” Marina turned, and they walked down the stairs. Any remnants left of her inner peace turned on its tail and ran deep inside, refusing to emerge.

Marina opened the door.

“Good evening, Miss Marina.” Gregory Balogh took her hand and kissed it in his old-world-style greeting.

Dear God. I forgot he was coming. She looked up the stairs to see if there might be a shadow lurking in a corner, then turned back and greeted her uncle.

Gregory Balogh stood in the threshold, wearing a suit and tie regardless of the ninety-degree weather. “You were expecting . . .” He looked over Elena’s shoulder and blinked several times.

The movement of a dark shadow disappeared into an upper bedroom. So, Uncle Gregory had seen the ghost, had he? Now what? Pretend she hadn’t noticed? Thinking about it, she knew Jan wouldn’t harm her. So, why was he here? Why had he been haunting the box with the wedding dress?

“Uncle Gregory?” Marina turned and shrugged.

Slightly pale, Gregory asked, “What was upstairs? Do you have another guest?”

Elena gave Gregory her best dazzling smile. “The only other person here is Alex, and he’s outside, I think,”

“Ah.” Doubt shadowed his face.

So now what do I say? We have spirits floating around? Not a bad idea. “Yes. We have our own resident ghost. Didn’t Magda tell you?” She laughed and poked Marina in the ribs. Marina picked it up and laughed too.

“It was only my fertile imagination. I am sorry.” Gregory kissed the two women on each cheek. He looked up the staircase before centering back on Elena. “I trust you are feeling better today?”

He escorted the women into the parlor, his darting eyes communicated uneasiness. “You must forgive my intrusion, but I have your grandmother’s will in my briefcase. I wish to go over its contents and have you sign some documents before I leave.”

“I’m really not feeling up to this just now. Do we have to do this today?” Elena pulled out from Gregory’s arm and stood in the middle of the parlor, looking around. Alex. Where was Alex?

Marina settled in the rocking chair.

“I, too, feel the sadness over your grandmother’s death.” Gregory put his briefcase on the coffee table and sat on the sofa. “We’d shared so much over the years. I prostrate myself before you with humble apologies, but I must return to Romania.” He clasped his hands together and put his fingertips to his lips. “As the last remaining Dkany, everything comes to you. This house and property, all possessions. Your grandfather was an astute businessman. He left Magda well off. And, except for your education, Magda was frugal.”

In general, that had been true. But Elena had never wanted for anything: tuition, clothes, spending money, a car. She looked at the numbers and nearly fainted. The financial holdings proved more than she could have dreamed.

“Any questions?” Gregory asked.

She shook her head. In reality, she had a lot. How could a college president stash away so much money? They’d been part of Romanian royalty—inherited perhaps? She wished she’d asked Magda more questions about her family.

Gregory answered her unasked question. “Ah, you want to know how your grandfather accumulated such wealth.”

Elena nodded. “College presidents make a good salary, but not that much.”

Gregory fingered his jaw before he spoke again. “Old money. You come from an aristocratic family.”

That explained it, or did it? “Ancient royalty doesn’t mean much today.”

“No. That is true,” Gregory said, “but he also played the stock market and played it well. We were in constant contact.”

“Oh, I see.” Did she? Why the inkling of doubt?

Gregory nodded. “So, we move on to Romania.”

Elena scooted forward, anticipation settling into the pit of her stomach.

“Dkany Castle belongs to you.”

She started to speak, but Gregory held up his hands.

“What’s left of it.” He reached into the briefcase and handed her several eight-by-ten glossy photographs. “Please, take a look at these. I am sad to show you such pictures. I tried to tell Magda many times, but your grandmother would not listen. She lived in the past, you see? She remembered her mother’s time when the castle hosted foreign dignitaries and ladies wore ball gowns and danced in great halls.”

The photos showed piles of rubble and ruin, fronting a tall brick and mortar façade. The front of the castle looked intact. Crumbling fifty-foot walls encircled the structure, and a splintered wooden drawbridge crossed a w**d-strewn waterless moat.

The castle looked sad and forlorn ready to topple into the past.

Elena fingered the photo. “It looks like Sleeping Beauty waiting for her prince to wake her with a kiss.”

“And who is your prince?” All three turned in the direction of the French doors. Alex stood braced against the door frame.

“She probably doesn’t need one,” Marina said, eying her brother. Elena wondered how long he’d been there.

“Alexander.” Gregory stood, acknowledging his presence before he sat again. “I’m afraid the restoration of this castle will take more than a kiss to wake its beauty.” He directed the conversation back to practicalities. “Elena will be well off, but I’m afraid the assets won’t be enough for rehabilitation of this magnitude. The castle is barely habitable.”

Elena raised her eyebrows. “My brother lived there.”

Gregory smiled, but his eyes remained distant. “Your brother lived in the caretaker’s cottage. Sadly, the castle’s upkeep ate up its resources years ago. I am afraid this Sleeping Beauty will never awake unless someone pours much money into repairs. It is . . . how do you call it? A pink elephant?”

“A white elephant,” Elena said. Gregory’s English was near perfect, but he wasn’t familiar with some of the less common idioms he liked to throw around.

However, what he said wasn’t at all humorous. Magda’s dreams of a school seemed to be shattering by the minute.

“There is some good news.” Gregory touched her arm. “You are wondering how you would be able to unload such a sore eye?”

“Eyesore,” Alex said. He walked across the room and sat in the chair next to his sister.

“Ah. I stand corrected once more.”

“And what is this good news?” Alex asked.

“The City of Dkany has made a generous offer for the property. It is a historic site, after all.”

Elena studied the photographs. She remembered old photos of the castle’s better days. In the middle of this present-day ruin, her great-great-grandmother had danced in a gold beaded gown, curls of auburn hair piled high on her head. Coachmen had driven expensive horses and carriages across this now rickety old drawbridge. Magda’s mother had ridden her pony in the fields as a little girl, the castle towers rising high in the background. She put down the photos. “I’d like to postpone making a decision. I want to see the castle for myself.”

Gregory frowned, and his stare penetrated like a laser. He was a bit unnerving.

“I do not think that would be wise.”

Marina had been quietly rocking on the chair, but she stopped the creaking motion and looked up. “Why not?” Her eyebrows narrowed. “It’s her castle.”

He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “In some respects, Romania is still very wild, not only in landscape but in behaviors. The roads are full of dangers. Gypsies are everywhere, and they are good at the manipulations.”

“That makes no sense, Mr. Balogh. I’ve lived in Romania.”

“You lived in Bucharest,” Alex said. “I agree with Mr. Balogh. I don’t think you should go alone either.”

What kind of conspiracy was this? Elena gave a determined, if somewhat angry sigh and started to speak in Romanian. “I’ve spoken the language since I was a child. I know the culture. One of my friends is from a gypsy family.”

A slow smile crossed Alex’s face. “But . . .” he said, “I still think it’s too dangerous.”

“It’s not your business,” Marina said, shooting him a ‘shut up’ look.

He shot one back.

“Why?” Elena stared at Alex, uncomprehending. Why should he care what she did?

Alex replied, “Your grandmother—”

“Was run over in front of this house, not murdered in Romania.”

“Yeah, but Freddy was.”

“No. He made the stupid mistake of getting hooked on drugs. It wasn’t murder. It was suicide.”

Gregory gave a grudging nod. “I see you are determined.” He shut his briefcase. “You are a strong young lady, and once more, you have proved me wrong. If you come to Dkany, you shall indeed have my protection, and I shall provide you with every amenity. The City of Dkany would welcome their famous ancestor.”

Elena looked for signs of reluctance on Gregory’s part, but if he had any, it didn’t show. His face remained stoic. She would go. No further discussion. She looked at Alex and wanted to challenge his negativity. He avoided eye contact. No matter. She’d go.

“Now, about the other little situation.” Gregory Balogh glanced from Elena to Alex and back again.

“What little situation?” Elena asked.

“The matter about your marriage to Alexander.”

Alex stiffened, and a shadow of annoyance crossed his face. He turned, refusing to look at her. He’d just confirmed Marina’s observations. Alex had no intention of marriage.

“There will be no marriage between Alex and myself,” Elena said. “It was a wish our families made a long time ago, and it doesn’t fit into today’s present situation. Alex and I lead separate lives. We have not seen each other for at least ten years. We don’t even know each other anymore.”

Alex drew back as though she’d sucker-punched him.

Pangs of guilt formed, and she lowered her head. She’d come on too strong.

“Ah well, too bad.” Gregory looked at his watch. “I must be on my way—a plane to catch.”

As Gregory rose to leave, Alex did the same. “I think it’s time for me to go as well. Good night ladies.” He beat Gregory out the door.