The  next morning, Eleanor shared the story of their ghostly encounter with Lord Novak who expressed shock and concern. Eleanor dismissed his words as if she hadn't lain awake in a state of dread half the night. She asked for and received a list of the live-in employees, which included the five people Lydia had previously noted, plus a gamekeeper. 

"Technically, he doesn't live in the castle," Lord Novak told them, "but in a cottage on the grounds near the forest gate."

Lydia added his name to the list of folks to be interviewed.

Little Reny had returned to school in the capital. Mr. and Mrs. Stojanovski had driven to the city on a supply run.

"Why not begin with Mr. Horvath?" Lord Novak suggested. "At this hour, I imagine he's in the kitchen eating breakfast. You could interview him, and then he could give you a ride out to Mr. Jovanovic's cottage."

Eleanor thought it was as good a place as any to begin. She didn't expect the painful shot of adrenaline that flooded her heart when they entered the room where the "ghost" had appeared, but she had a lifetime worth of experience in hiding the fears that one naturally encountered in her line of work.

As promised, they found the young gardener just clearing his dishes from the table. The kitchen, which had seemed so vast the night before, now had a crowded, almost claustrophobic atmosphere. Three men and a woman in matched checkered pants and white coats chopped, stirred, and washed under the supervision of a dark-skinned barrel-chested man in a chef's toque. All of them glanced toward the door when Eleanor and Lydia entered.

"Guests eat in the dining room," the chef told them in an accent Eleanor couldn't quite put her finger on.

"We are looking for Mr. Horvath," Eleanor said.

"Found him." The chef pointed with his ladle. "Do me a favor and take him out of my kitchen so my sous chef can focus and avoid chopping off any of her own fingers."

The young woman chopping herbs blushed deep crimson.

The gardener rolled his eyes. "Don't pay attention to Ted. He's always grouchy in the morning until the hangover wears off."

"Out!" the chef barked.

Lydia flinched.

Eleanor lifted her chin a fraction of an inch. "Actually, I'd like to speak with you as well, Mr. Teodoro. When would be a good time?"

"Don't speak to the guests. It's bad form." He turned his back on her.

"Technically, I'm not a guest. I'm an employee of Lord Novak and I am performing an inquiry for him. At what time shall I return to speak with you?"

The man peered over his shoulder at her. He produced a silver flask from his breast pocket and took a long drink. "All right then, one o'clock. Be done with lunch by then, and the hangover'll be gone. The kid ain't wrong. Now get him outta here, will you?"

The gardener grabbed a heavy hooded sweatshirt from a hook next to the table and followed Eleanor and Lydia into the dining room. "His bark really is worse than his bite. Ted's not a bad guy."

Lydia snickered. "His name is Ted Teodoro?"

"Theodore, yeah."

"His name is Theodore Theodore?"

The young man chuckled. "Never thought about it that way, but yeah. I guess it is."

Eleanor understood the young sous chef's pink cheeks. The handsome boy exuded charm. His longish sandy blonde hair was neatly tied back in a little nub of a ponytail, giving a clear view of his strong square jawline. He smiled easily, and when he did, deep dimples appeared on his clean-shaven cheeks and his bright aqua-marine eyes twinkled. He wore a sleeveless gray shirt that showed off his heavily muscled, lightly tattooed arms and nicely fitted blue jeans that even a woman of her age had to admire.

She introduced herself and Lydia and explained their business at Novak Manor. 

"I'll be happy to help however I can. I'm not too proud to tell you that thing scared me just about half to death. I'd like to know it's gone from here so I can walk the halls at night again without clutching my pearls like an old lady." He seemed to realize what he'd said and a fetching spot of pink deepened the tan on his sun-kissed cheeks. "Sorry, sometimes I can be a real block-head. I didn't mean to offend."

"No offense taken, I assure you, Mr. Horvath."

He grinned. "Please call me Sasha. The royals call everyone mister and missus, but coming from anyone else, it just feels weird."

Eleanor agreed, on the condition that he use her first name as well, and at Sasha's suggestion, the three of them headed outdoors for a golf cart tour of the property.