Padlocked Penthouse (Locked House Hauntings Book 2) Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Book list

  Landlocked Lighthouse Excerpt

  Padlocked Penthouse

  Mixi J Applebottom

  Copyright © 2015 by Mixi J Applebottom

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2016

  ISBN

  www.MixiJApplebottom.com

  Be the bright future.

  Prologue

  Coralina sat on the bed. They had been perfectly forgettable. The flowers had looked nice. Her makeup, still perfect and un-smudged, accented her high cheekbones.

  The dress she wore was ivory with silver accents at the bottom. Even the cake, white and towering, was perfectly forgettable. Maybe they had spent all that money for no reason. They had spent all that time, planning and prepping. For what?

  Her silver heels crashed to the floor as she kicked them off. She rolled over on her back, the large dress dangling across the bed. It was a king-sized bed, but it could barely contain the giant dress. Her blonde hair was still curled and pinned into place, crunchy with hairspray. She looked good.

  She was down about twenty-five pounds of fat and up five pounds of muscle. She spent the entire summer eating rabbit food—celery, wheat grass, spinach—and lifting incredible weights.

  It was, would be worth it, if everyone would remember. She wanted everyone to remember how incredible she was, but they wouldn’t. Because the entire day was so incredibly forgettable. Yes, she stood quoting her vows and perfectly smiling. Her ring was shiny and bright and large. Oh, it was so large. She could hardly lift her arm up with the weight of the enormous diamond.

  She did everything a perfect bride should do. As she tossed and turned on the bed, her wedding dress started to curl up around her waist. Who could be forgotten like this? Left to rot in her pretty bed in a pretty dress with her fancy hair and perfect nails?

  She sat up slowly and reached for the nightstand with the glass lamp. She poured herself another glass of bubbly white champagne. She took a perfect sip, toes pointed, dress swirled around her like a movie star. Her silver eyelids pressed shut, perfect pink lips barely touching the glass.

  She lowered the glass and sighed dreadfully. Coralina was not the kind of woman who deserved to be forgotten after spending an entire year prepping for one glorious day. She stood and walked to the window, staring out across the city. She shouldn’t be forgotten. The city skyscape normally gave her goosebumps, but today gave nothing; just reminded her that despite the penthouse apartment at the top floor, despite the fat wallet and full bank account, she could not seem to be memorable. She turned away disgusted, her blonde curls not wavering from their position, despite her quick turn. Her dress, flowing out behind her like a waterfall of ivory silver water, caught unexpectedly. She looked back and saw that the hem of the gown had caught on her new husband. The white gown was already soaking him up, as though she was wearing an oversized tampon. The blood swirled up her skirt.

  Coralina turned to stare at the train as it turned brighter red. For a moment, he registered in her mind and heart. And terror flickered across her face. Then she forgot. She turned and stepped into the glass elevator. The red continued to wick up her skirt slowly as she rode up to the rooftop. She walked past the shuffleboard, her red train dancing in the wind. She stood next to the pool, staring at the water lapping.

  “I could never forget someone as stunning as you.” She felt the words more than she heard them. It seemed to be calling from the water.

  “It’s like I never even happened,” she whimpered, her stockinged feet now kissing the water’s edge.

  The water rose up like a tidal wave, sucking her into the pool, and a second later, little bits of Coralina coated the water’s surface. She had been blended. Ground to tidbits. Her ring, still attached to the tiny chunk of finger, floated into the filter, to be found two years later by a little girl.

  1

  Pear tugged on Wynne’s dress. “Could you help me?”

  Wynne resisted the urge to tell the little girl “not now.” She was dying of curiosity about the penthouse suite. But instead, she turned to the little girl, then forward, and whispered, “What do you need?”

  “I want to know where Calleo is.” Pear never particularly liked being away from her cat.

  “He’s in his crate. We’ll get him out later after we’re finished moving in,” Wynne whispered again. They finally left the car, stepping into the lobby of the gorgeous skyscraper, and the six of them walked in. Wynne found her eyes lingering on Barnett for a moment. He was a gorgeous man. Who wouldn’t look? He was wearing his perfectly tailored Armani suit. He was famous for all the right reasons. And probably a few wrong ones.

  Aurora, his perfect wife, stood next to him with her dyed red hair and tall sparkling heels. Pear, their daughter, had curly brown hair and a sparkling dress. She was fidgeting, and Wynne tried her best to coax the girl to settle down.

  The realtor, a tall thin man, who obviously sold multimillion-dollar estates for a living, turned to the private glass elevator. With a frown, he stared at the big black chain and bulky padlock.

  Barnett wrinkled his nose. “What is this? Why is there a chain on the elevator?”

  The realtor seemed just as stunned as he. “I don’t know. It wasn’t there last time I was here. I will call maintenance.”

  They waited a full half hour. Pear was starting to wonder if this was the longest her father had ever waited for anything. Wynne had a worried look on her face. “When can I see Calleo? I really miss him. When will the elevator get unlocked? I think that girl wants out.”

  “Sh. Shush, child,” Wynne said, staring at Barnett.

  The maintenance man did not have a key to the padlock. They argued if they would hire a locksmith, or hire someone to cut the chain. After a few minutes of back and forth conversation, Barnett declared that they were going to lunch, and if the penthouse suite wasn’t available to be seen after lunch, he was going to cancel his check. His twenty-five-million-dollar check.

  Pear, Wynne, Aurora, and Barnett walked back outside to the limo. “Mama! I want to see my cat. I really want to know if his right eye is green or if his left is green. I don’t want to know about the yellow one.” Her voice was starting to take on the whiny tone.

  Wynne grabbed the little girl, whispering to her again, “Shush now; you’re going to get us in trouble.”

  Pear glared at her nanny. She stepped over to her mother and raised both her arms up. “Please, Mama!”

  “Please, I’m in heels,” Aurora said, looking at her little daughter. “I can’t possibly carry you around. Besides, aren’t you too big to be carried about?” Aurora shook her red curls back and forth in dismay. “You need to learn to fend for yourself.” She turned and looked at Wynne. “Please carry her.”

  Wynne sighed and lifted the small, four-year-old child up to her hip. The elevator door slid open, and they stepped out to their waiting limo.

  Pear whispered to Wynne, “How did the little girl get in the glass elevator if it’s got that giant chain on it?”

  Wynne replied, “What are you talking about?”

  “The little girl, she was waiting for us. Is it gonna get unlocked soon?”

  Wynne laughed. “Well, Pear, you certainly aren’t short on ima
gination this morning.”

  2

  The sushi was impeccable, as always. They hadn’t been in New York for a while. Barnett had been filming his latest action flick in which he wore suits, looked gorgeous, killed men, and slept with women. It was pretty standard issue, although the last movie took place in Paris. They had been on the other side of the ocean for the last year.

  Wynne had been having the time of her life, running into movie stars across the entire world. The only downside, of course, was that she had to take care of the little child. Then again, without Pear, there would have been no trip at all for her.

  Aurora didn’t particularly have a career. Occasionally, she would be in photo shoots, or model, or tinker with some such thing or another. Most of the time, she simply existed. Existing was enough for her. Existing on the beach, watching her husband make movie after movie.

  “I really want Calleo out of his crate. When can I see him?” Pear asked her nanny again.

  “I know you want to play with him, but he’ll be out of his crate soon enough. Don’t you want to see what your new room is going to look like?” Wynne whispered to the little girl.

  “I already saw a picture and it looks sad. I don’t like sad rooms. I want Calleo.”

  “Why on earth would you say that! It’s not sad. It’s going to be beautiful and happy,” Wynne whispered back hastily. She could only imagine the frustration of Aurora and Barnett if the child didn’t enjoy their twenty-five-million-dollar purchase.

  “Why did the girl get locked in? Is it because she’s so mad?” Pear tugged at Wynne’s hand.

  “There is no girl. Shush now.”

  Barnett and Aurora were whispering. Aurora nibbled on her husband’s ear in the car. Wynne found she always cringed a little when they were affectionate. She knew she shouldn’t have such a childish crush on him.

  This ride seemed much longer than the last one, and finally, they arrived back at the skyscraper. The slick realtor stood, holding a bouquet of roses for Aurora. “My apologies for the delay. Was lunch delicious?”

  “It was fine,” Barnett replied, waving his hand dismissively. Aurora smiled at the flowers and glanced at the door. The padlock and chains were removed and no maintenance men were in the foyer any longer.

  “Did they unlock that padlock or did they just cut the chain?” Aurora asked as the glass doors slid open with a bright and cheery ding. She looked stunning and dramatic, laughing with a sweet giggle, stepping into their newest purchase.

  “They couldn’t get it unlocked, so the locksmith had to cut it,” the realtor said, staring at the perfectly portioned woman. She looked poured into her dress. Every curve of her ass was gripped, and her plastic breasts nearly burst from the top. She was dramatically breathless, as if the opening the doors had caused her to orgasm.

  Barnett stared at his wife and wondered how long he would have to wait before he could ravage her.

  3

  The penthouse apartment was the top two floors of the high rise New York building. It included exclusive access to the roof terrace. The main floor was almost ten thousand square feet, and Barnett had purchased it fully furnished. Picking out furniture always led Aurora to spend at least a million more than necessary. She would, inevitably, hate something and redo a room or two, but there her fussing would end.

  Directly in front of the glass elevator was a white grand piano. To the left was an open concept dining room flowing into the over-sized kitchen. To the right was an assortment of pleasant sitting rooms and entertainment areas. Past the sitting rooms was the large, highly furnished office. The suite was a large oval shape, and there were three over-sized bedrooms, each with their own bath, of course. The master suite was on one end of the oval; it was gigantic with an impressive array of closets. After the massive master bedroom, there was a family room, and back to the kitchen. Barnett barely surveyed the rooms, instead simply waltzing to his office to see if his computer had been set up yet. Aurora followed him closely. By the time they stepped into his new office, her panties were already off and she was eagerly insisting upon his attention. The realtor, following behind like a lost puppy, stared through the open door lustily as Barnett kneeled in front of his wife.

  He couldn’t look away.

  Wynne and Pear were oblivious to these interactions, for they were exploring their own rooms. “I told you my room was sad,” Pear said glumly. Her room was outfitted in a large marble bed. The bedspread was white and pink ruffles like a massive layer cake. From the ceiling hung a sparkling crystal chandelier.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about. It’s beautiful!” Wynne giggled, spinning around the room. “Do you realize how much room we will have to play in here?”

  “I only want to play with Calleo. Where is he?” Her little foot stomped the ground angrily. “I don’t like this place. I don’t like how it feels. I just want my cat.” Tears started to tremble on her eyes, threatening to break loose.

  Wynne looked surprised. “Don’t cry. I know it’s no fun to move, but you’re almost five. You certainly can’t be stomping your foot and leaking tears anymore.”

  Pear tried to draw herself up. “Tell me the story of how Calleo got his name again.”

  “Well, when we went and picked him out, you were but three years old. Do you remember?” The little girl and her nanny flopped together on the floor, curled up and whispering. “You said you wanted a smart cat. I said, ‘Do you mean clever or do you mean one that knows lots of secrets?’”

  “And I said ‘What’s the difference?’!” Pear giggled.

  “Yes, yes, you did. Being clever is being able to wit your way out of situations. Knowing means you know a lot of things. Book smart vs. street smart, so to speak.”

  “And I like books!” Pear laughed harder.

  “Yes, that’s why we named him Calleo, because that is Latin for knowing.” Wynne smiled and brushed the little brown curls from Pear’s pretty green eyes.

  “Does my name have a secret meaning?” Pear asked with her big bright eyes wide open.

  Wynne cringed. “Well…” She paused awkwardly and wondered what to say. “I think maybe your mother would know that.”

  4

  An hour later, Barnett got the news. Aurora was slipping back into her dress while he answered the call. He hesitated to tell Aurora, and certainly didn’t want to tell Pear.

  Calleo had gone missing.

  The cat wasn’t exactly easy to replace. He was odd-eyed; one bright green and the other yellow. He was a shorthaired white cat. And Pear was unreasonably attached to the critter.

  Somehow, on the flights from Paris to here, the cat had gone missing. His crate was still on the private plane, of course, but the door had been knocked ajar. Calleo was missing. The rest of their things had been brought up and installed into the house with the ease of professionals who knew what they were doing.

  He couldn’t exactly go get another odd-eyed cat at the drop of a hat. “Aurora?” His voice was smooth and deep like chocolate melting on her tongue. She floated her way to him instantly, her perfect body poured back into that ravishing gown just like he had never removed it.

  “Yes, love?” He loved the soft sounds of her.

  “Calleo is missing.” He used a firm voice that he generally reserved for contractual negotiations.

  She let out the tiniest gasp, and her perfectly manicured fingertips pressed to her plump red-stained lips. Her eyes welled with tears just a touch before she regained her composure. And she said the single word both of them were thinking. “Pear.”

  He gripped his wife with his strong arms and gave her a warm, reassuring hug. “I know.”

  Her fingers nervously slid into his and they went to give their daughter the first bad news she had ever received. Wynne hovered anxiously outside Pear’s bedroom door, uncertain of what was about to happen. Barnett lifted the child and held her in his strong arms, and Aurora wrapped herself around them both. “Pear, darling, do you like your new room?”


  Pear wrinkled her little nose. “No. It feels wrong.”

  Aurora let out a timid sigh. “Dearie, we have to tell you something terrible.”

  Barnett flickered his gaze from his daughter’s green eyes up to his wife’s. Her eyes were wet with tears already, and she was trembling. He looked back at the child whose world was about to crash. “Calleo is missing.”

  Pear couldn’t have looked more surprised if she had been punched in the nose by her father. The tears were hot and immediate. Her tiny little wail broke her mother’s attempt to be strong and all three of them were soon shiny eyed and tear-streaked.

  5

  Wynne fluttered away from the door and felt sick to her stomach. She couldn’t watch Aurora hold the beautiful man crying over a missing cat with his beautiful child. A jealous rage was curling up and down her skin. What was this? Her heart was literally pounding. She caught her breath and counted to ten, trying to contain the burst of energy burning inside her soul. Why did she feel so strongly? This was new; her thoughts toward Barnett had been mild and curious up until this very second.

  Her feet skittered across the wooden floors as she raced to her own little room. Her apartment within theirs. Inside was dark. She flipped the switches, but not a single light turned on. Stumbling, she stepped to the bathroom, finding it by sheer luck, and hurled her sushi into the toilet. She vomited twice again before she finally stopped. She was heaving with sobs of frustration when her legs finally stopped trembling, and she could stand. In the dark, shadowed reflection of the mirror, she saw him. Barnett, standing behind her. He put his hands on her hips and his mouth started to nibble on her neckline. His fingers slid down to her belly button, and she trembled against him. She closed her eyes, gasping at his touch, and when she opened them, it was dark.