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</div>For a big man, he moved surprisingly quiet.  Abby saw rather than heard his approach.  That's because she was gazing out the windows towards the garden.  And the two windows had a mirror between them in which she saw his reflection as he approached. Too big and muscular to be a lawyer or accountant.  Or was that stereotyping on her part?  Perhaps a lawyer could be that big.  But no, probably the head of security or a bodyguard.  She searched for a name, since there were so many people that Marcus talked about.  Finally, it came to her.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(251, 160, 38)">"Miss."</span><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)">"You must be Karl.  Marcus had nice things to say about you," Abby said as she spun around to face him.  Then her eyes got wide as she realized he was taller in person than in the mirror.  "My, but you're big."  Normally she would flash a smile that tended to disarm any male she met, but judging from the look in his eyes, she had a feeling that might not work with him.  Her heart started to beat faster, knowing from Marcus that Karl was used by Grace as her hired muscle.  And although the two of them had yet to be formally introduced, she suspected Grace was not happy with her presence in this house. </span><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(251, 160, 38)">"Allow me to escort you back to the parlor, please.  We wouldn't want you to be 'lost' in the mansion at the time when the will is being read."</span><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)">Abby ignored the proferred arm momentarily, her attention drawn to a portrait over the fireplace.  The blonde in the painting bore a striking resemblance to the blonde in the library.  Stepping over to it, she studied the face.  Not quite as cool and aloof as her daughter's face.  Softer and gentler features, in fact.<br/>
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"Was that Marcus's wife?  If so, her daughter looks just like her."  She studied the picture for a moment more, understanding why Marcus referred to her as his one true love.  Abby was afraid of the man standing behind her, but she was doing her best not to show that fear. Finally, sighing, she then stepped over to take Karl's arm.  It was best not to try the man's patience too much.  Damn, the man had a tree trunk for an arm.  And she was just a twig in comparison.<br/>
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"Perhaps, you could drop me off at the powder room instead.  I'll find my own way back to the parlor."  Between the coffee and Mr. Muscles scaring the piss out of her, she did indeed need the powder room, which she assumed was the same as the ladies room.  <br/>
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</div></span>"All I need to do is wind her up and let her go crazy," Greg murmured with a smirk.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)">He had a good laugh after Grace had left.  In one way, she and father were alike in their failure to understand that for Greg, money wasn't everything.  Sure, it had been necessary for Greg to trick his father into giving him money when he was younger.  But that was when he thought the wheels were coming off the family business.  By the time he'd started his own business, money seemed less important to him.  As long as there was enough cash coming in to keep the bookstore/coffeeshop afloat and his employees paid, he was happy.</span><br/><br/>Hell, he was even discussing expansion.  Annie of Annie's Bakery, his next door neighbor, had suggested knocking a hole in their shared wall and putting French doors in.  It would connect the two shops so patrons could move between the pastry store and the coffeeshop/bookstore without going outside.  And Ivan, who owned an antiques store on the other side of Annie's liked the idea so much that he wanted to connect his shop to the other two in a similar fashion.  Making the block into an indoor mall of sorts.  Maybe he needed to contact the old movie theater on the other side of Ivan's to see if they wanted in.<br/><br/>Greg got up to pick up the book that had fallen to the floor as a result of Grace's furious departure.  "The Haunting of Hill House", by Shirley Jackson.<br/><br/>"Now, how did you get in this library?" he asked.  Greg considered the book a modern classic, but it was hardly the kind of book that his father would have let into his library.  Marcus's books were old classics, many of them first editions with the author's signature in the front cover.  The collection was worth a fortune.  Jackson's book was not even a first edition.  Or particularly old.  But it was a great haunted house book.  Deciding it was a sign to read the book again, he set aside the book he had been reading and began to read this unexpected gift.