Blood Roots [antikvár]

A.11 her life Olivia had had nightmares like Devereaux House . huge, crumbling monstrosities haunted with unfulfilled desires and unhappy regrets. So when she first saw the old plantation house rising up out of the mist on that sluggish southern evening, she wondered for just a moment if she'd wandered accidentally into the realm of some macabre dream. "I thought she was supposed to be rich," was the first thing Olivia said, but the cab driver was mopping his face with a handkerchief and didn't seem to hear. "I don't know if I can get any closer." He darted a quick, almost reluctant look toward the overgrown driveway and shifted in his seat. "See that? Weeds thick as a goddamn field." "This can't be it," Olivia mumbled. "Can't be what?" In the rearview mirror his stare was curious, and she tried to sound casual as she answered-