Tommie felt a stab of sympathy for Nancy, who so clearly had a bad case of wanting Harley. “You’re absolutely right. I think most women value decency over wealth.”
“And don’t forget good looks,” Nancy said, flushing profusely.
Harley too, blushed, which only made Tommie smile. Harley was a good man, and he was handsome, and he also had another attribute she valued—modesty. “Yes, Harley’s a handsome man,” Tommie agreed, delighted to see Harley begin to squirm from all the feminine praise.
“Did you find out something else?” Harley asked Nancy. It was clear he wanted to turn the topic of conversation away from himself.
“Paul Rider has listed himself as the realtor in charge of Loftus Manor, and he’s received two offers. One locally and one from a foreign concern.”
“How do you know this?” Tommie asked.
“Remember Paul’s receptionist? That’s the job I used to have, and Beth is my good friend. When I was quitting to go work for Mr. Moore, the coroner, I gave Beth a heads up. So I asked her about any offers and she told me.” Nancy held up a hand. “She knows she shouldn’t, but Paul treats her as bad as he treated me. It’s a little hard to work up a scrap of loyalty for someone who treats you like mud on his boots.”
She was right about that. Tommie might not agree with it, but she certainly understood it. Spilling business secrets wasn’t acceptable, but some people had to be paid in kind before they realized that brutish behavior only brought trouble to their front door.
“Do you know who the offers were from?” Harley asked.
“Beth wouldn’t give me any names. She said one was a prominent woman in town and the other was a foreign concern. Chinese.” Nancy bit her bottom lip before she addressed Harley. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get that information, but Beth said she takes a paycheck from Rider and she didn’t feel comfortable giving any more details.”
“It’s okay,” Harley assured her, though he was scowling. “We appreciate this much information. Rider admitted to the foreign offer, but he didn’t mention a local offer.”
“I see by your expression that you’re trying to work out who in town could bid on Loftus Manor,” Nancy said. “Keep in mind it could be a consortium, not one single person. Folks banding together for an investment—that kind of thing. When I worked for Paul, I saw that a lot. Friends would get together and form a business, and then they’d build condos in a college football town, lakeshore developments, that kind of thing. If they picked the right project, they made a fortune.”
“Well, Loftus Manor won’t be one of those projects,” Tommie said stoutly. “I’m going to make it into an inn. With canoeing and hiking and games like croquet or badminton on the lawn.”
“Then you’ll keep Harley on to help you with the grounds!” Nancy was almost breathless with relief. “That would be so great.”
“Yes.” Tommie fought the smile that wanted to spread across her face. “I hope to keep Harley on at the manor, if he’ll consider staying. He’s a vital part of the plan.” She watched his pleased reaction to what she said. They’d never talked about it, but…in that moment she realized it was exactly what she wanted. Nancy was almost an angel for making her confront the truth and say it out loud.
“I do have some ideas for the recreational part of the inn,” Harley said.
“I’m really glad you’re going to help Ms. Sykes, but I’m a little surprised you’re so willing to go along with changes to the manor,” Nancy said. “I talked with Mr. Samuel often when I worked for Paul in the real estate office. Mr. Samuel was clear about the manor and how he didn’t want any changes.”
Harley pushed his dark hair back with his hand. “This might not be what Samuel wanted, exactly, but it keeps the manor house and the property intact, and now other people can enjoy the beautiful architecture of the manor. It is incredible. And the grounds are perfect for what I believe Tommie has in mind. When it comes right down to it, I think Samuel would be pleased that people are seeing and enjoying the beauty of it.”
“I’d love to see it one day,” Nancy said. “I’ve heard Mr. Samuel talk about it for years, but I’ve never been inside.”
“Then why don’t you come out for coffee or a drink tomorrow evening?” Tommie said. “It is a grand old place, and as you’ll see, we won’t be changing much of anything except the kitchen and dining areas. The renovation crew is already there working on it.”
“Already?” Nancy said. “So quickly?”
“They arrived today. I hope to have it open and receiving guests by Christmas,” Tommie said. “I’ll need the income to keep things afloat, and with that wonderful renovation team in town, this was the perfect time.”
“I see your point.” Nancy smiled. “Now I have to get back to the office. Mr. Moore will be looking for me. I look forward to seeing the manor tomorrow evening. About eight?”
“Perfect. And thanks, Nancy,” Tommie said as Harley came to stand beside her and waved goodbye to his friend.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dr. Clyde Ashburn’s office was filled with waiting patients, and Tommie and Harley took a seat as they waited to speak with the office manager. They’d had to leave Trouble in the car—they could get him into a lot of places, but not a doctor’s office.
“Do you think they’ll really give me Uncle Samuel’s medical records?” Tommie asked. “I didn’t have his medical power of attorney.”
“I don’t know,” Harley said, “but we have to ask. If your uncle was really ill, I’ll be more inclined to believe his death was a suicide. But if he wasn’t, then I think we have to accept that it’s possible we’re searching for a killer.”
“You think Nina Ahearn could have killed Uncle Samuel?” Tommie didn’t like Nina; she was grasping and greedy. But Harley had assured her that Nina was good to Samuel, that she cared for him with some tenderness.
“I would never have thought so, but this whole foolishness about being his wife. I would never have anticipated that, either. Do you ever really know another person?”
Tommie was aware that question had depths to it that went beyond Nina. “I’ve been fooled before. I’m more careful now.”
Harley’s grin was lopsided and a little sad. “Me too. But lately I’ve been thinking that I don’t want to hide from my feelings forever.”
Tommie put her hand over his. “I’m thinking the same thing.” The kiss had given her courage to let some of her defenses down.
“Ms. Sykes!” A nurse stood at an open doorway calling her name.
Tommie rose but stopped and motioned for Harley to go with her.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“I am. We’re in this together. I wouldn’t have the nerve to pursue it if you didn’t have my back.”
Instead of a business office, Tommie found herself in the doctor’s private office, and after a moment Dr. Ashburn came into the room and took a seat behind his desk. “You want to see Samuel’s medical records,” he said.
“Yes,” Tommie said.
“May I ask why?”
Tommie studied the doctor’s face. He was tired and harried, but he’d taken time to talk to her personally. “I’m Samuel’s heir, and I don’t want to believe he committed suicide.”
“I see.” The doctor turned to Harley. “You were friends with Samuel. What’s your opinion?”
“I’m with Tommie. Samuel didn’t seem sick, and he was perfectly fine when I left him the evening he died. No indication of depression or worry.”
“What do you intend to do with any information you may dig up?”
Tommie was caught short. What could they do with it? Have the cause of death changed. Maybe get the local sheriff to open an investigation. “I’m not sure,” Tommie said carefully. “I don’t want my uncle labeled a suicide if he isn’t. But more importantly, if someone killed him, that person is still walking around free.”
Dr. Ashburn nodded as he spun his chair to open a filing cabinet drawer. “I told the coroner I disagre
ed with the cause of death, but I wasn’t allowed to examine the body. Moore said he was required to send it to Montgomery to the state medical examiner.”
“That’s true,” Harley said. “But there’s an issue with the cause of death on the death certificate. It may have been changed.”
Ashburn stopped rifling through the files and turned to them. “Not supposed to happen.” He pulled out a file. “Here are Samuel’s records. He was in great health for his age. I saw him only a few months ago and he was spitting fire and talking about how he had to beat you at a game of chess, Harley. He valued your friendship.”
“And I his,” Harley said. “I miss him.”
While Harley and the doctor chatted about Samuel, Tommie went over the medical chart. As Dr. Ashburn had said, Samuel was in great shape for his age. There was no indication of anything that should have worried him.
Tommie closed the file. “Thank you, Dr. Ashburn.”
“What are you going to do?” the doctor asked.
“Keep digging,” Tommie said. “I’m almost certain my uncle didn’t hang himself. And now, it’s up to me to find out what really happened.”
“Be careful,” Dr. Ashburn said. “Remember if someone did harm Samuel, they won’t hesitate to do the same to you.”
“Anyone you’d care to warn us about?” Harley asked.
Dr. Ashburn hesitated. “The last time I saw Samuel, he was physically fine. His heart, his respiratory system—he was in great physical shape. But I was worried about him. He was so angry at Paul Rider, the real estate guy. He said Rider was harassing him because there was a client who desperately wanted to buy Loftus Manor. The client had some idea that a treasure was hidden there.”
Tommie shot a glance at Harley, who nodded.
“Did Samuel say who this client of Rider might be?” Tommie asked.
“I did ask Samuel, but he brushed it off. He said he’d stopped by to tell Paul that Loftus Manor wasn’t for sale and would never be as long as he lived.”
“But Paul couldn’t let it go?” Harley asked.
“That’s what Samuel indicated. He was annoyed with Paul and said he was mad enough to press charges for harassment. Paul had some buyer that was determined to at least talk to Samuel in person to make an offer. Samuel refused.”
“You don’t recall the potential buyer?” Tommie asked.
“Samuel never said a name, and I didn’t press. Perhaps I should have.”
“No, thank you, Dr. Ashburn,” Tommie said. “As you’ve indicated, Samuel seemed in good health.”
The doctor stood up. “I hope you do pursue this. I’ve never felt comfortable with letting Samuel’s death simply fade away. Like you, I want to find the person responsible, if there is such a person.”
Tommie and Harley thanked the doctor and then left. When they were outside, Tommie stopped beneath a sycamore tree. The yellow leaves drifted slowly to the ground with each gentle breeze. “I think Uncle Samuel was murdered.” Tommie didn’t want to believe it, but her heart told her it was true.
“I think so too.”
Tommie felt a prick on her calf and looked down to find Trouble staring up at her. “Me-ow!” The cat let his concurring opinion be known.
“What are we going to do about it?” Tommie asked Harley.
“Find out what the hell is going on at Loftus Manor. If it’s someone looking for a treasure, they may have killed Samuel. I’m hoping your renovators have some explanation for the appearances and disappearances of that figure we’ve all seen. Let’s head back to the manor.”
Tommie put a hand on his arm. “How far is Montgomery from here?”
“Under an hour if the traffic is light,” Harley said. His face lit up. “You want to visit the medical examiner and check on that report.”
“I think we should,” Tommie said. “If it was changed, we need to report that and begin to find out who changed it.”
“Good idea. Let’s take care of that.”
They’d barely buckled their seatbelts when Tommie’s phone rang. “It’s the renovation team,” she said before she answered.
“Tommie, can you get back to the manor?” Katie Evans asked. She was slightly breathless.
“Is someone hurt?” Tommie was instantly on alert.
“No, but Hank found something. You really need to see this.”
“What is it?” Tommie asked.
“You’d better take a look for yourself. I’m not trying to be mysterious, but…just come back as fast as you can.”
“We’re on the way,” Tommie said as Harley put the vehicle in gear and sped toward the manor.
* * *
The bipeds have unearthed some actual clues—a refreshing turn of events. The problem is that none of the clues add up to a picture of what’s going on. We have a star sapphire button, unusual and intriguing. We have a carefully changed death certificate and a real estate developer who seems determined to buy the manor. And we have a newly minted wife, who may or may not be the wife. And now I won’t find out today. I was hoping when in Montgomery to lead the humanoids to investigate the Reverend Krystal Child, alleged minister and unifier of bipeds in wedded bliss. As Sherlock would say, a boast that defies logical deduction.
But it sounds as if there’s something amiss at Loftus Manor, and our attentions are better focused there. With my keen feline hearing, even though Tommie didn’t put the conversation on speaker, I could detect the excitement, and perhaps trepidation, in Katie’s voice. The renovation team has found something of great interest. My curiosity is piqued, and as we all know cats and their curiosity are fodder for the triteness mill. I’ve never known a cat that was actually killed by curiosity. And just to lay the old saw aside, we do not have nine lives. Two scores settled rapidly.
And we’re turning down the drive to the manor. Harley has a lead foot but he’s slowing as he sees Katie and Hank sitting on the front steps with the workers scattered about the lawn taking a break. Whatever they found has halted the renovation dead in its tracks.
My case is about to take a turn.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tommie pointed the flashlight into the shallow recess of the kitchen wall and gasped. She’d been warned, but even so she wasn’t prepared for the horror of the eyeless skull angled up at her. Long stripped of any flesh, the human skull sat atop a pile of bones. Once upon a time, it had been a human being.
“I’d better call the law,” Tommie said to Harley.
“I already have,” Harley admitted. “This is a little too much Edgar Allan Poe, and while Samuel might find this thrilling, it’s a matter now for the police. Keep in mind, we can’t touch anything.”
“The minute we saw it, we stopped work,” Katie said.
“Who is it?” Tommie asked everyone there, though she didn’t expect an answer. The bones had once been a living person, but who? “Did Samuel ever say anything about someone going missing?”
Harley coughed. “No. And trust me, if there’d been a missing relative or any idea of a skeleton walled up in the house, Samuel would have been telling tall tales about it all over town.” He picked up a piece of rubble that had been removed from the wall. “Looking at the mortar in those bricks Hank knocked out, I’d say this body has been back there at least a hundred years.”
“I agree,” Hank said. He put his arm around Katie. “We’ve found some strange things renovating old houses, but never a skeleton. I pulled the camera crews out, but…” He looked from Tommie to Harley to Katie. “It would make some incredible television.”
“Oh, dear goodness,” Tommie said and sank into a kitchen chair. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.” Her first thought was protecting her uncle and Loftus Manor.
“But it could be,” Harley said, his face alight with inspiration. “Think about it, Tommie. If whoever is in this house is looking for a buried treasure, release of this information may draw them out into the open. Surely with a skeleton, there’s bound to be something worth killing for.”
“We don’t know this…person was murdered,” Tommie said. “Maybe he or she died of natural causes.”
“Not likely,” Hank said. “I agree with Harley. This could be a golden opportunity. And if we can solve the mystery of the corpse while we’re filming or before we finish production, we’d be happy to forgive all the renovation costs. This would garner our TV show an incredible bite of the audience, which translates into profits for us so we wouldn’t need to charge you.”
Tommie closed her eyes briefly. It was a tempting offer, but the bones looked so helpless and defenseless. They had once been somebody. And Hank and Harley were right. It was likely the person had been murdered. Folks didn’t normally wall up a person who died of an illness or accident. This body had clearly been hidden.
“It might also help the law find the person responsible,” Katie said. “I mean surely there are stories or rumors of someone who went missing from these parts. And with the timeframe back in the 1800s this didn’t involve Samuel at all. It’s ancient history with a lot of audience appeal.”
“It could be a win-win,” Hank added. “At any case, let the crew document what we’ve found, and if you don’t want the footage to air, I swear to you I’ll delete it and never say a word.”
Tommie swallowed. Trusting others wasn’t her strong suit. She’d just begun to trust Harley, and now here was a huge matter where misplaced trust could come back to bite her for the rest of her life. “You swear you won’t use the footage?” she asked.
“We promise,” Katie said.
“Go ahead.” She stepped back as the camera crew rushed forward to set up lights. In a matter of moments they were ready to record, and Tommie realized that the law officers would instantly shut down the filming when they arrived. Hank and Katie were taking advantage of every second of time.
“One of our first renovation projects at Loftus Manor is to open the kitchen area for bigger commercial appliances and also to take out the smaller pantry, breakfast nook, dining area, and one of the small storage areas to make room for the additional dining space that will be needed when Loftus Manor is an inn,” Hank explained to the camera.
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