by BJ Richards
“How about now?” Josephine said, before answering the call. “I'm so sorry Nate, honey. I'll make it up to you.”
“I'll take you up on that. But for now, you can bring the sample to the precinct and I'll have Greg in Forensics run a test on it,” Nathaniel grumbled into the phone. He could hear Josephine beaming on the other end. She did it to him again.
“Thanks, Babe!” she said into the phone with a loud kissing sound. “I'll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Yes, you will,” he promised her, shaking his head and smiling.
***
Getting off the phone, Josephine looked over at Sandra, barely able to contain herself. It was obvious to Sandra that Josephine had prevailed with Nathaniel once again.
“We’re on. He’s going to do it.” Josephine was smiling from every cell of her being, slumping back into the car seat and with a huge sigh of relief.
Sandra knew Josephine had really pushed it with Nathaniel this time. But she also knew he'd already forgiven her. And if they were right... they were about to solve a murder.
Chapter Twelve
Sandra rolled on her bed, unable to sleep. She'd just heard the results of the test. It was positive for poisoning and Greg in the forensic lab had been diligent to note that the compound in the poison was a nineteenth-century composition. But now, even after solving Annabel's murder, Sandra wasn't sure if anything had changed. The painting was still missing, and the people who’d attempted to kill her were still at large.
Since the painting had been stolen, she hadn't felt the Annabel sensation at the museum. She hated to admit it, but she kind of missed it. She'd grown used to seeing pages of books open up on their own and objects moving around in the air.
In a strange way, she’d bought into Josephine's mindset that she was special since Annabel’s ghost had chosen her. And, as Annabel’s cousin, she did consider herself committed to getting justice for her.
Now that she'd done exactly that by discovering how Annabel died, she didn't know how to feel or even how Annabel's ghost felt, since her painting was still missing.
Just as she was about to roll to the other side of her bed again, she heard the deafening sound.
“What is that!” Sandra held her ears, trying to shield them from what sounded like shrill fog horns radiating through the house.
Loud sirens had suddenly pierced the air and now ricocheted through her head. It was her security system. The thieves had come back and they were here now.
Shocked into complete consciousness, she jumped out of bed and automatically grabbed her robe, her heart beating a hundred times faster than should be possible.
Reaching for her phone that was always on her night stand when she went to bed, she dialed 911 and waited for the operator to answer.
“Someone just tried to break into my house.” She gave her address as calmly as she could to the 9ll operator, but her mind was racing and the panic was palpable now.
Not knowing which was worse, confronting whoever was there, or having them bust through her bedroom door, she picked up the baseball bat Josephine had left from the last time. This is a bad idea. Please, security system, be everything Nate says you are and scare them away.
Creeping slowly and quietly over to the top of the stairs, she flipped on the light, the bat above her head and said as menacingly and loudly as she could, “If you’re still there, I have called the police. I suggest you leave now, before they get here.”
The alarm was still furiously ringing, and having now let anyone there know her whereabouts, she descended the stairs, one step at a time. “They’re on the way. If you’re still here, you’d better go now,” she continued to loudly announce.
By this time, she was so scared she could barely breathe. No turning back now. You're already committed.
Having reached the front hallway, the security system still screaming in her ears, she realized the thieves hadn't made it into the house at all. They'd fled when they heard the alarm go off.
Just then she saw a police car pull up in front of her townhouse. It was Nathaniel. Relief flooded through her. She could feel the tears almost starting to spill. Buck up. No time to be a sissy now.
Quickly disabling the alarm, she flung open the front door for Nathaniel and gave him a big hug.
“Are you okay? Where were you when the alarm went off?” Nathaniel immediately went into police mode once he saw she was safe.
“I was in my bedroom. I think they left when they heard the alarm.”
“A pity or you'd have bashed their heads in,” Nathaniel said, looking at the bat in her hand.
“I was aiming for their testicles, but alas,” she retorted, the levity bringing her a level of calm she desperately needed.
“Stay put. We're going to check everything out, then I'll be back. Once Nathaniel and the other officers knew the place was secure, he sat down on the sofa beside her.
“Are you going to be okay on your own, or should I call Jo?”
“No, I'll be fine.”
“Okay. It’s late. But I'll come back tomorrow to review the video feeds and see what's up. Meanwhile, I’ve made sure your block will be patrolled for the rest of the night. And no, there's no chance in hell I'm calling them off this time.”
Sandra smiled at her protective friend. “Thanks, Nate. See you tomorrow. You're the best.”
He gave her a light big-brother punch on the arm, then headed out to the car.
She watched as Nathaniel left, but not until another police car had taken his place. Feeling like it was actually going to be okay, she locked the door, reset the alarm and headed over to the sofa, pulling her robe tightly around her neck. Covering herself with the throw from the back of the couch, she tucked the baseball bat securely into her side.
Tonight, she was sleeping on the couch with all the lights on. Just for tonight.
* * *
“What the… !” She jumped, immediately grabbing the bat.
There it was! That shrill sound again!
And once again, it was only her phone. Checking the caller ID, she saw it was Josephine. “You’ll be the death of me,” she said grousing into the phone.
“I can say the same of you. I'm at the front door with Nate. Let us in,” Josephine retorted and hung up.
Sandra cinched up her robe, turned off the security system and let her friends in.
“Poor you,” Josephine said and dragged her into an embrace the moment she entered the house. “What do you think they wanted this time?”
“I don't know. I suppose they figured out they have a fake pendant.” Sandra yawned and sat back down on the couch.
“We brought coffee and food,” Josephine announced. “Then we'll figure this thing out together. Nate already went to the security company and got a copy of the camera footage from your system he installed. But first, you need to eat.”
Once they'd finished their bagels and coffee, Nathaniel went over to Sandra's laptop and plugged in a flash drive. “Now, let's see who these intruders are.” Nathaniel fast forwarded until the time stamp indicated 11pm.
They watched a few cars come and go. Then the street fell silent until two men wearing baseball caps moved toward her house.
One of them reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of tools, then started picking the lock. He'd definitely done this before.
It was then the alarm went off and the intruders stepped back in shock. Sandra could see the surprise in their stance, but their faces were covered by the hats they had on. It was when the second man pulled his hands out of his pockets and started motioning that she saw it.
“Hold on. Freeze it. I've seen that ring before. I recognize it from somewhere.” She pointed to a silver ring on the hand of the shorter man in the video feed. The ring had a curved snake insignia that curled over the top and down the sides. It was ugly, but distinctive.
“I remember now. He was a waiter at the museum gala. He passed me a drink,” Sandra said, completely alert now that the
coffee and bagels had done their job.
“You're sure?” Nathaniel asked, eyebrow raised.
“Positive. Absolutely positive.”
Without saying another word, Nathaniel stood, walked over to the window and dialed his phone. He was talking to someone at the precinct.
Some minutes later, Nathaniel showed Sandra a picture of a long-haired man with green eyes that had been sent to his phone. “Is this him?” They’d been able to find him by contacting the catering company the museum hired.
“Yes, that's the guy. He had his hair pulled back into a bun that night, but that's him.”
“Okay. His name is Anthony Foley. An APB has been issued for his arrest. We'll see what comes of this.”
“Finally,” Josephine sighed in relief as she hugged her friend close. “Maybe this will all be over now.”
Nathaniel smiled. “You guys good here? I have to go oversee the interrogation. I'll let you know what I find out.”
“We're good. Go get him,” Sandra nodded and smiled.
Before Nathaniel made it through the front door she called back, “Thanks, pal.”
“Anytime kiddo. That's what I’m here for.”
Chapter Thirteen
Sandra, Josephine and Nathaniel sat in the museum the following Sunday morning looking up at Annabel's painting, now hung in the Main Hall in a place of honor.
“You should’ve seen how she looked in the painting when I first found it. Her eyes were so angry and blinking at me furiously. I was afraid she was going to blast me with fire from them.” Sandra grinned as she recalled the memory, breaking the silence.
Annabel's eyes were now smiling in the painting, and deservedly so. They’d found the painting, coupled with the fake pendant, in Anthony Foley's apartment. He'd confessed to stealing both of them, and told Nathaniel he thought they were valuable and was hoping to pawn them for cash.
She agreed with Nathaniel when it came to believing Foley’s story.
Nathaniel shook his head. “Foley just wasn’t that smart. A restaurant waiter who barely made it through high school couldn't have pulled this kind of job off. He insisted he did it alone, but there’s just no way. He couldn't have known about the painting on his own unless someone else told him about it. And, why out of all the other valuable paintings, did he only go for Annabel’s? Whoever his accomplice was, Foley is afraid of him, that’s for sure. And he'd rather be the scapegoat than be at their mercy.”
“So, we don't know if he's the one who tried to run me off the road then, do we?”
“No. I don’t think it was him. He looked surprised when I mentioned that. My theory is his accomplice only recruited him because he had access to the museum on the night of the gala. No one thinks it strange for a waiter to be wandering around at an event. It's his job. The accomplice chose him for his convenience.”
“Great. So, whoever 'he' is, he's still out there.” The idea of dealing with more drama over this whole thing did nothing to ease Sandra’s mind.
“Unfortunately, yes. I was hoping this would help clear up the curator murders. But all we have right now is a petty thief. A stupid one at that.”
Sandra sighed. “I guess we should look on the bright side. At least for now we have Annabel's painting and the copy of my grandmother's necklace back.”
“That we do.” Nathaniel smiled and pulled Josephine closer to him.
“I'm mad I didn't get to see the painting before they stole it. I was really hoping I'd get to see the angry face and watch a ghost in action,” Josephine complained in her sorriest 'poor-me' voice.
“Don't blame me. Blame the thieves.” Sandra nudged her with her elbow and Josephine smiled.
They sat silently again, each contemplating the events of the last few weeks.
“I wonder what became of her kids,” Sandra mused some minutes later.
“I was thinking the same thing.” The tears in Josephine’s eyes began to well up. “They probably grew up under different last names, not knowing why anyone would abandon them. And another painful thing is, they wouldn't have known they had a twin out there, or that the Billamore heritage was theirs.”
“Aww, come here baby.” Nathaniel pulled Josephine into an embrace. “On the plus side, they probably lived decent lives, far away from Elinore Billamore and her evil deeds. And who knows, maybe they went on to have kids who made something of themselves. They're probably still in Billamore. Hell, I'm probably her descendant,” Nathaniel joked, nodding toward the smiling portrait of Annabel.
Josephine laughed and laid her head on his shoulder, then kissed Nathaniel. “You're the best.”
Sandra soaked in the sight of her best friends being in love, then looked back to the painting of her distant cousin, Annabel. The anger was gone and her spirit seemed at peace. There was a radiance now… almost a glow, that came from her ancestor’s portrait.
While the curator murders were yet to be unraveled, the mystery of the Carrigan painting had been solved… and at that moment Sandra believed in fate. Maybe there was a reason she was Curator of Billamore Hall, after all.
THE HIDDEN KEY
Mysteries of Billamore Hall Series
Book Two
BJ Richards
Amazon Kindle Edition
CHAPTER ONE
The ghost was quiet now.
One murder had been solved, but there were still three more to figure out. And somewhere deep inside, Sandra knew she’d only begun to unlock the secrets held in the ancient Hall.
She sighed and tucked an errant strand of long brown hair behind her ear, feeling rather eerie for some unknown reason. She chalked it up to the fact that it was late and she was tired.
But she needed to log the museum’s latest acquisition before she could leave. As Curator, she was responsible for everything in the Hall. Besides, she loved seeing the new pieces right when they came in; it gave her a feeling of satisfaction, knowing she was responsible for giving them a home in such a prestigious institution.
She looked at her watch. Twenty minutes. She was pushing it to the wire.
I’ll never hear the end of this if we’re late.
Josephine was enamored with anything ghost related now. And this was a ghost movie that Josephine didn’t want to miss.
But she didn't want to leave anything hanging till the next day. Now that her college intern was gone, there was more for her to do. She made a mental note to hire another assistant. With the museum now back on its feet, she needed the help more than ever. And the gallery wings were especially busy.
Smiling, she remembered how things had changed for the better at Billamore Hall. Josephine felt it was Annabel’s doing… that since her spirit was now free of angst, she was being benevolent and showing her goodwill throughout. Sandra had laughed it off, thinking it was one of Josephine's grand ghost theories.
"You know I'm telling the truth. She's like your guardian angel now,” Josephine had said.
Sandra had undergone some big belief changes in the last few weeks. Mainly going from thinking ghosts and the paranormal were all nonsense, to knowing the complete opposite to be true.
She’d seen with her own eyes how Annabel’s face had changed in her portrait, how she’d moved paintings and artifacts, and been able to control Sandra’s body. But the idea that would become a norm for Sandra, was still crazy.
Thankfully it hadn’t, much to Josephine's disappointment. Annabel hadn't bothered anything since Sandra had solved her murder and hung her portrait in the Main Hall. Not even flying a book through the air or knocking a painting down from its perch.
It was quiet, and sometimes Sandra missed Annabel and her shenanigans. She would go to Annabel’s painting and stare at it. When no one was around she would blink hard and wait for Annabel to blink back at her, but there was nothing. It almost made her feel sad, like a friend had left and she didn’t get to say good-bye.
Even though the Hall was boring now without Annabel haunting it, Nathaniel had convinced her it was somet
hing to be grateful for. It was good to have a childhood friend at the local police department, who was also their Senior Detective. Plus, he’d do anything for Josephine, at least within reason. Sandra smiled. She knew he always got a personal reward from Josephine from cooperating, too.
In some aspects, Sandra agreed with Nathaniel. Billamore was back to being Billamore, the small port town in Massachusetts where people greeted each other on the street and exchanged pleasantries or gossip. The locals chatted with the tourists and welcomed them into their shops, sharing the hometown experience with genuine warmth. All of which helped to keep the money flowing in the little town, and the same visitors returning year after year.
That was great for the museum, too. The tourists loved the paintings and artifacts, spending generously in the gift shop and ordering replicas of the pieces they liked most. All good for business. The Board was very pleased and had let Sandra know.
The other plus was, no one had tried to burgle her home or drive her off the road and down the ravine. A welcome relief, to say the least. All of which was starting to make Sandra feel safe again.
Thankfully, Nathaniel had caught the man who’d confessed to stealing Annabel’s painting and her grandmother’s pendant. They’d been returned before any harm was done to them. Anthony Foley was in jail now, but wouldn’t admit to an accomplice. Still, Nathaniel knew he wasn’t the mastermind. But overall, things were much calmer now. And Sandra felt she could stay late at night to work, or go to the movies with her friends without fear.
“The movies! Jo is going to kill me!” she muttered under her breath when she saw the time again. She was supposed to be at Josephine's right now. She quickly grabbed her purse, turned off the light and started down the hall, her three-inch heels noting the quickened pace as they sounded off against the marble floors. The hallway was dimly lit now, illumined by the recessed lighting above her that was left on for night-time security. Sometimes it felt a little spooky, but she’d become accustomed to it.
