Melville’s wheelchair was motorized, and he maneuvered away from the table and toward the hall. The other guests started walking toward the stairs to the upper floors. Frank had just entered the corridor outside the dining hall when the door from the kitchen opened and the caterers, a man and a woman in their late twenties, and the two waiters, walked into the corridor.
“Mr. Melville,” the woman caterer said.
“Yes, Janet?”
“Your daughter told us that the road to town is blocked by mudslides. Is it still impassable?”
Frank turned to Samuels.
“As far as I know, it hasn’t been cleared,” Samuels said.
“Do you have room for Max and me, and Sandy and Milo?” Janet asked.
“Can we accommodate them?” Frank asked Nelly.
“There are several empty rooms on the second floor,” Nelly said. “I’ll have Mrs. Raskin take you up.”
As if on cue, Mrs. Raskin walked toward them. She was carrying a wooden box, and she looked grim.
“I found this on the table near the front door,” she told her employer as she handed Frank Melville a card. “This note was with it. It says it’s for you.”
Frank Melville’s smile disappeared when he saw what was inscribed on the lid, and his hand shook when he opened the box. As soon as he looked inside, Melville turned pale and clutched his chest.
“Frank, what’s wrong?” Sheila asked.
“Take Dad to the library,” Nelly said as she took the box from her father’s hands. Sheila pushed Melville out of the room.
“Who did this?” Nelly demanded.
No one answered her.
Nelly glared at the guests. Then she turned on her heel and followed her father with Justin Trent behind her.
Before Nelly walked away, Robin had looked at the box. It was engraved with a bloodred pentagram and contained a knife with a silver handle that looked like a claw that was half-human, half-wolf.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Melville stopped his wheelchair in the middle of the room and took some deep breaths. Sheila draped her shawl across his shoulders for warmth and hovered over him while Nelly walked to the end of the room and set the box on the mantel.
Mrs. Raskin had taken the catering crew to their rooms. Justin Trent, Samuels, and Corey Rockwell circled their host with their backs to the fireplace, and Robin and Ken stood with their backs to the library door.
“Are you okay?” Sheila asked Frank.
Melville shook his head. “The box and that knife… It was just a shock.”
“It’s someone’s idea of a sick joke,” Nelly said.
“Who could have done it?” Sheila asked.
“Anyone who knows the Black Oaks legend and Frank’s fear of the curse,” Justin Trent said.
“Which narrows the suspects to everyone in the house,” Nelly said.
“Except the caterers,” Trent said.
“How do we know they didn’t research the Black Oaks legend after they were hired?” Nelly said.
“Who did hire them?” Trent asked.