The Lost Girl, part four

The Hargrave estate was tucked back into the trees, discreet and authoritative behind its metal gates. Peter slowed the rental van and pushed the button, looking up at the camera mounted on the stones of the pillar that flanked the gate. "Ministry," he said simply. 

The gate rolled open, vanishing behind the stone pillar, and Peter drove them across the metal track that supported it. The driveway beyond was composed of interlocking stones, and the van was filled with a vague rumbling as it crossed them. They circled, and pulled up in front of the manor. 

Two figures were standing at the foot of the steps that led into the house. They moved forward as the van doors slid open, and were already extending hands as Peter came around the front of the vehicle. 

"This is Hargrave House," said the taller, older one, distinguished in her pantsuit. "I am Amelie Hargrave, and you are welcome here."

Chris looked around, taking in the two-story house, the separate garage, and the flower gardens that surrounded both as the introductions continued. Antoinette had moved up beside Peter, and was making polite noises at their ostensible hosts; nothing looked out of place. They wouldn't have been here if nothing was wrong, but nothing he observed gave him any sense that the Hargraves were doing anything shady. The estate was more soothing than anything else.

With identities settled and the niceties established, the two Hargrave women led them into the house. 

The outside of the house had been neat but plain, cut stones polished smooth and neatly mortared together, windows narrow on the first floor but wider above. It was large, but not especially showy. The Hargraves had evidently been saving their decorative impulses for the inside of the house: hardwood floors, expensive rugs, oil paintings with gilded frames, an elaborate chandelier in the front hallway, antique furniture... 

Chris didn't have a good sense of what constituted real wealth, but everything here looked both expensive and carefully arranged. He made a mental note not to touch anything. "I've arranged the sitting room for your use," said Amelie Hargrave, "since I assume you will want to interview us before you venture out in search of our little lost lamb." She gestured to a doorway just a little ways down the hall.

"Thank you, Materfamilias," Peter said easily. "Yes, we would be grateful for the opportunity to gather whatever background we can."

"Then take a few minutes to arrange yourselves, and I will send in my daughter Maggie to answer your questions; after that, I will seat myself to answer anything that remains. If you need speak to anyone else in the household, do please let me know."

Peter offered a slight bow. "I see you remember your own time in the Ministry," he said. "May I have your permission to let our ROs check things over as well? It will mean giving them the run of the house, but you can count on our discretion."

Amelie Hargrave hesitated, then sighed. "I suppose you must, and I assume that your pets will be well-behaved. Very well, set them loose; we have nothing to hide here."

Said none of the old houses, ever, thought Chris, but he nodded and glanced at Antoinette for permission. She nodded back. 

"If you'd be so kind..." He glanced at Elyssa, then looked back to Amelie Hargrave. "...could you have someone show us to the rooms where Tabitha is staying? A sample of her scent could prove extremely helpful."

"Of course," she answered graciously. "Agatha? Please guide the beasts to Tammy's room."

The girl who melted out of the shadows looked to be about sixteen years old, slender and pale and strange. She regarded Chris for a moment with large, dark eyes, glanced briefly at Maggie Hargrave, and then said: "This way, if you would."