Girl in the Attic

  Girl in the Attic

  Ashes and Rose Petals Book One

  ID Johnson

  Copyright © 2020 by ID Johnson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  Cover by Sparrow Book Cover Designs

  Created with Vellum

  For Bill, Jacob, and Wilhelm for their inspiration.

  Contents

  1. Bird in a Cage

  2. A Soapy Audition

  3. The Wrong Number is the Right Number

  4. Who’s That Girl?

  5. Dinner with the Devil

  6. Gettin’ Lucky at Lucky Red

  7. Fate or Misfortune?

  8. Heart on the Line

  9. Life’s a Ball

  10. Party Time?

  11. Dress for Success

  12. First Glimpse

  13. Kiss in the Moonlight

  14. Hiding

  15. Hunted

  16. What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks?

  17. Balcony of Sorts

  18. Secret Phone

  19. What Next?

  20. Hell to Pay

  21. Don’t Engage the Enemy

  22. Breathless

  23. A Promise of Forever

  24. Call for Help

  25. Free As a Bird

  26. Telling Dad the Truth

  27. Home Sweet Borrowed Home

  28. Mark Gets Caught Up

  29. Bar Fly

  30. Face the Enemy

  31. Just Lunch

  32. A Very, Very, Very Fine House

  33. Sacrifices

  34. Sealed With a Kiss… and More

  35. A Surprising Call

  36. Drive of Doom

  37. Daddy Not-So Dearest

  38. Make a Break For It

  39. Rescue Me

  40. Escaping LA

  41. The Road to Everywhere

  42. What Happens in Vegas

  43. Room with a View

  44. Dress Me Up

  45. Marry Me

  46. See You at the Picture Show

  47. Tea For Two Uncomfortable People

  48. A Plague on Both Your Houses!

  49. Overboard

  50. The Awful News

  51. Interrogation

  52. Morgue

  53. Lawyer Up

  54. Mary, Mary Quite Contrary

  55. Banishment

  56. Ultimatum

  57. Lifeline

  58. In Memoriam

  59. The Hand-Off

  60. Henry’s Confession

  61. Drugged

  62. Bart’s Plan

  63. Dear Dad

  64. Screams

  65. Body

  66. Dead Inside

  67. Bury Me Deep

  68. Alive

  69. Don’t Shoot the Messenger

  70. Flight to Freedom

  71. The Search Begins

  72. That Feeling Inside

  73. Only Way Out

  74. Gut Feeling

  75. Cuts Like a Knife

  76. Escape

  77. In Your Arms Again

  A Note from the Author

  Chapter 1

  Bird in a Cage

  The bird was back. Perched outside of the attic window, it chirped a cheerful song, fluttering its wings and tapping its beak on the glass. Ella Sinders found herself distracted again. The bright blue feathers, the same shade as the sky behind the visitor, beckoned her to come outside, to feel the crisp spring air, feel the grass beneath her feet, gaze at the clouds as they rolled by, and forget all of her troubles.

  But that wasn’t an option. Not only did she have more work to do than it would be humanly possible to get done in two lifetimes, she literally could not go outside. The door was locked. The door was always locked. Other than sticking her head out the small window and basking in the sunshine that way, there wasn’t much of an opportunity for her to enjoy the great outdoors.

  “I’m sorry, little birdie,” she said, refocusing on the computer in front of her. “I can’t play right now.”

  The bird sang its song again, and Ella hummed along as her fingers flew over the computer keys. The design she was working on was coming along. She thought her father would really like it. She just had a few more touches to add, and then she’d be ready to submit it for approval.

  So focused was she on her work and the song she was humming, she didn’t hear the door open until it closed with a sharp thump, and then the key scraped against the lock again. Alarmed, Ella turned to see who it was. Relief washed over her when she saw it was only her friend, Mary Baker, the only one of the household's workers allowed to come into the attic while Ella was working. It wasn’t because she was the most trustworthy of the group; it was just because Ella’s stepmother, Teresa, disliked Mary almost as much as she disliked Ella, so she sent her up to the attic to do the dirty work.

  “Sorry to disturb you,” Mary said, ducking her head. She was a tiny woman, thin, pretty, with a brown mop of short hair.

  “Oh, don’t be silly.” Ella giggled and turned back to her work. “You’re not disturbing me. I just thought you might be… someone else.”

  “Don’t worry. Mommy dearest is laying out by the pool, as are her worthless daughters.” Taking a few steps closer to Ella, she whispered, “I hope all three of them burn to a crisp.”

  Trying not to laugh, Ella shook her head. “Be nice, Little Mouse. No need to lower yourself to their level.” The nickname was more for Mary’s size than the fact that her hair was such a mousy shade of brown. That and she seemed to attract the creatures.

  Mary sighed, going about her dusting. “I don’t understand how you can be so sweet, Ella. They’re awful to you. Only letting you out of this attic for dinner. I don’t know why you don’t say something to someone.”

  “Who? I never see anyone--except for you.”

  “Your cousin Tim is allowed to see you. Does he know about your imprisonment?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic.” Ella didn’t wish to downplay the situation, but she knew Mary was right. If she had known what her stepmother had in store, perhaps she never would’ve come back from France. She knew she’d be taking an important job for her father’s movie marketing company, but she had no idea she’d never be allowed to leave the house.

  Her father, Lloyd Sinders, one of the most successful, and thus wealthiest, movie marketers in the world, was overseas himself now and planned to be for the next several months. He had no idea that Teresa had her locked up. His wife had explained to Ella that the arrangement was “for her own good,” but Ella knew better. Teresa was still jealous of her mother who had died when Ella was seven. It was clear that her father still loved his first wife more than he could ever love Teresa. Though Teresa was a beautiful blonde with the nicest fake boobs money could buy, she didn't have the natural beauty Chantel Bisett had exuded on both the inside and out. Ella looked almost exactly like her mother, and it drove Teresa crazy. She had been a rival of Chantel’s when they were both models. Thus, Ella was locked away at least until her father returned. By then, Teresa must’ve hoped she’d decide for herself this is where she wanted to be.

  Ella didn’t hate it as much as one might think. Of course, she longed to go out into the world, to feel the sun and the breeze. But she had no friends in LA. She’d attend school in France since she had been in grade school. Her Aunt Suzette had practically raised her after her mother died. It seemed her father, who professed to love her, also had trouble looking into the same eyes he missed so desperately
since his wife had passed away.

  Her two stepsisters, Anna and Drew, who were aspiring actresses, spent every night at dinner chattering about how horrible the world was out there. They were both beautiful, though Ella questioned their acting abilities. With the connections their stepfather had, they should have easily been able to get better parts than the commercials and walk on roles they were getting. Both of them complained that the world was a terrible, cruel place, one that would wad you up and spit you out. Why would Ella want to go out there if she didn’t have to?

  Besides that, she didn’t look like the girls she saw in the photographs of actresses and models she worked on for the marketing campaigns. They were all blonde, with golden tans, big, fake boobs, and curvy hips. Ella’s dark hair, Mediterranean coloring, and thin build made her feel inferior to these actresses and other women in every way possible.

  Here, in the attic, she was safe to wear her baggy pants and T-shirts, not worry about makeup, and never have to concern herself with being compared with others. If the other women in LA acted like her stepsisters, she didn’t want to have anything to do with any of them.

  No, her best hope at this time was for her father to come home so that she could speak to him about going back to France. She was much more comfortable in the little village she’d lived in with her aunt. She had friends there. That’s where she was most happy.

  “You have a phone. And email. Why don’t you tell your father what she’s up to?” Mary asked, sweeping the barren wood floor with a broom.

  Ella shook her head. “You don’t understand, Mary. It’s more complicated than that. I don’t want to make Teresa hate me. My father will start asking questions before he believes me, and when she finds out, she’ll take both of those things away. My father will be back in a few months. I’ll talk to him then.”

  “If he comes back when he says he will. He’s already extended his trip twice.”

  “True.” The bird was still fluttering at the window, and for a moment, Ella wished she had wings so she could fly away. “I’ll be all right, Little Mouse.”

  The housekeeper shook her head, but she was giggling. “I’m not as timid as a little mouse. Just because I have a way of attracting the little critters, that doesn’t make me one.”

  Ella laughed, remembering how funny it had been each of the times the mice that slept in the walls came out to follow Mary around, curious about her sweeping, Ella supposed. She was some sort of a mouse whisperer. “I’m thankful that you’re so bold, Mary. It serves you well.”

  “One of these days, after I’ve secured employment elsewhere, I’m going to accidentally leave this door unlocked. Then, you can escape if you’d like to.”

  Turning her head away from the computer to meet her friend’s eyes, Ella smiled. “Don’t get yourself into any trouble on my account, Mary. I’m all right.”

  “The moment you change your mind, you let me know.”

  “I will.” Ella turned back to the screen, doing her best to ignore the echo of the lock clicking shut, sealing her in the attic indefinitely, at the mercy of a stepmother who was anything but merciful.

  Chapter 2

  A Soapy Audition

  “What do you mean you’ve got a secret?” the woman with the bright red lipstick asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

  “I mean… I’m your brother!” Rome Verona said, doing his best to feel the line as if it were true. He looked across the room at the reader sitting behind the table, holding her gaze for a moment, his expression unwavering, until the man next to her ended the scene.

  “Wonderful. Thank you, Rome.” He smiled, nodding his head and taking some notes. “We'll be in touch.”

  “Thank you,” Rome said, trying to look confident as he nodded and waved, heading out the door to his right.

  Once he was out in the hall, he took a few deep breaths. He’d done fine. The audition had gone as expected. The only problem was, the audition was for a role in a soap opera, not exactly the big break he’d been looking for.

  Rome brushed his dark blond hair out of his eyes and pulled his phone out of his pocket, stopping to thank the girl behind the reception desk, who was batting her eyelashes at him. He ignored it, used to girls flirting with him. Stepping outside, he called his best friend, Balthasar Pierce, to let him know how the audition went.

  Bart answered on the first ring. “Well?”

  “Hello to you, too,” Rome chuckled, pulling his keys out of his pocket to unlock his Mercedes. It had been a present from his parents for his twenty-first birthday. In the last four years since they’d given it to him, he’d dreamed of making his own way so that he could afford to buy his own replacement when he needed to.

  “How did it go?” Bart asked. “Did you get the part?”

  Climbing into the car, Rome answered, “I don’t know yet. They don’t tell you right away. I think it went okay. I’ll find out in a few days, I suppose.”

  “I don’t get you, man. Your dad owns one of the biggest production companies in LA. Hell, in the world. What are you doing auditioning for bit parts and soaps, Rome?”

  Shaking his head, Rome answered the same way he had the last twenty times he’d been asked the question. “I told you. I want to do this myself. I don’t want anyone saying I rode my dad’s coattails to fame.”

  “But this is Hollywood. Everyone does that.”

  “Not me.” Rome switched his phone so that it was utilizing his Bluetooth so he could drive. “I don’t want to be that guy, Bart. You know that.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. All right. Well, let me know what you hear. I would think after that big movie you just did, this should be easy.”

  Rome scoffed, pulling out of the parking lot and merging into traffic. “Dad’s still pissed about that. Besides, the movie might be big, but the part was little.”

  “He can’t have it both ways. If he’s not going to help you, he can’t be mad at you for doing what you have to do.”

  “I know. And when I took the part, I had no idea that dad’s arch-nemesis was the one doing the marketing for that movie. Just because he doesn’t work with Sinders Cinema Marketing doesn’t mean that no one does. They’re the biggest marketing firm in LA.” He got in the turning lane so he could head back to his apartment.

  “So why is he pissed?”

  “He just hates anything and everything that has to do with Lloyd Sinders, that’s all.”

  “That’s dumb. Your dad should put you in one of his movies.”

  “Bart, we’re talking in circles now. I’ve gotta go. I’m almost home.”

  “Okay. Are you going out tonight?”

  “Probably. But I’ve got to call Mark and see what he’s up to.”

  “Don’t forget he’s got new digits.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He’d written Mark’s new number down somewhere. It was probably in the pocket of the jeans he’d worn out to the club the night before. “I’ll talk to you later, Bart.”

  “All right. See ya.”

  Rome disconnected the call and pressed his code into the gate that was meant to keep unwanted people out of his apartment complex, not that it wasn’t easy enough to get in if one tried hard enough. He headed for his parking spot, hoping he could get this role so he could continue to live here. While he had money left from the last job, the movie Bart had mentioned, he needed to keep making more if he was going to stay independent and not have to go crawling back to mommy and daddy looking for funds.

  A busty blonde walked by as he was getting out of his car. “Hey, Rome!” She pulled her sunglasses down and looked at him over the top of them. “You going out tonight?”

  He’d seen her around, but he had no idea what her name was. She was pretty in that traditional California girl sense, but girls like her were a dime a dozen here. “Maybe.”

  “Well, I’ll be at Lucky Red if you wanna hang.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiled at her, but as soon as he turned around, he rolled his eyes and the smile faded.


  Rome headed into his apartment, planning to check his email, answer a few texts, and call his friend Mark. Going out on the town was a surefire way to forget about having to find a new role. He was getting older now, though. At twenty-five, drinking, dancing with hot, easy chicks, and the hangovers that followed, weren’t quite as appealing as they had been a few years ago. He was ready to settle down, get his shit together, maybe even get a long term role in a television show. And find the right girl.

  And she wasn’t going to be hanging out at any of the clubs his good pal Mark dragged him to. Of that, Rome was almost positive. Because the girl he’d want to make his forever one day would have to have a little more substance to her than the chicks he met at clubs, like his last girlfriend, Candy, who’d had great boobs but no common sense. No, Rome was just about ready to leave that world behind.

  He sat down on the couch, phone in hand, trying to determine whether or not to give it all one last hurrah--or two. He knew if he called Mark, his friend would talk him into it. With a loud sigh, he pulled himself up to go look for that phone number.