FanStory.com - The Unwilling Heir - Chap 2by Begin Again

ENDING OF CHAPTER 1

"Meet me?" Sandra's eyebrows furrowed. "But why?"

"I'll let them explain." James slipped his arm around hers and walked across the cemetery, pointing out historic headstones. The tension eased from Sandra as he chatted about the gardens, naming each flower or butterfly.

Soon, they entered a secluded area in the cemetery. The garden was an oasis of tranquility, with blossoming Roses of Sharon and various shades of purple lilacs filling the air with a sweet fragrance. James pointed across the garden, "There they are."

Three men were lounging on cement benches. As James and Sandra approached, they stood and waved, excited to meet Sandra Monroe, the woman who inherited the mansion.

The Judge warned his friends, "The two of you need to behave. Don't scare her away unless —. Well, you know the other alternative."

"No jokes about popping someone, Benny." Ryan jabbed his elbow into his friend's side.

"Me? You're the one with all the dead bodies." Benny chuckled. "Or at least ones anyone talks about."

The Judge glared at them. "Enough!"

Each assessed the woman who held their futures in her hands as they waited to be introduced.

*****

CHAPTER 2

"Hey guys, look at the dame hanging on James's arm. No offense, ma'am, but I was really hoping for donuts." Ryan chuckled. "Honestly, we were waiting impatiently for you, but the donuts would have been a bonus."

"Don't listen to him; his fat rolls have more flab than a basset hound." Benny chortled, "My apologies to all offended basset hounds."

"Excuse the two idiots. They both think they're runners-up in a comedy contest. Judge William Parker at your service, ma'am." He extended his hand and then turned to his fellow cohorts. "May I introduce you to Detective Ryan Hamilton with his donut obsession, Benny Gonzales, the unemployed — hmmm —it might be best to save his profession for another day, and of course, you have already met James, the voice of reason among this motley crew."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Hey, you forgot to mention my impeccable detective skills. I may love donuts, but I could still crack a case like nobody's business."

Benny grinned at Judge Parker. "And I may be jobless, but hey, laughter is the best medicine, right? Plus, I hear unemployment is great for finding hidden talents." Benny tipped his fedora and winked at Sandra. "I'm just having a little fun while I restructure my career."

The judge laughed. "Yeah, getting your ass out of trouble just like the rest of us."

Sandra tried hiding her amusement in the odd trio while mentally sorting out the situation.

I wonder how they knew Noah. I don't remember seeing them at the gravesite, but then Madeline made such a scene that I doubt I'd remember seeing anyone. And why have they chosen to meet me here in the cemetery? Is it a matter of convenience or something else?

She smiled and greeted the men, "It's nice to meet you, gentlemen, but I can't imagine why you'd want to meet me."

"Have you looked in the mirror lately, doll face? Va-va-voom." Benny snorted. "You're one of those babes you can meet in the daylight and still get excited."

"Benny, that's enough." Judge Parker reprimanded his sidekick before addressing Sandra. "My apologies for my friend. He tends to forget his manners and his brains."

James squeezed Sandra's arm. "They're good guys, regardless of their lack of people skills."

"Hey, I don't lack —" Benny never completed his sentence.

An ear-piercing scream burst through the rustling lilac branches, drawing everyone's attention toward the blooming hedge.

"My Lord, what was that?" Sandra's eyes widened as her look shifted from the group to the bushes. "A hurt animal?"

James laughed. "My guess is it's no animal. Give her a second, and you will see."

A short, stout woman scrambled into the clearing, pulling twigs from her hair and brushing lilac petals from her clothes. She stopped and adjusted the bonnet covering her gray hair. With a quick nod in James and Sandra's direction, she stomped across the grass toward the other three. "Wait till I get my bloody hands on you ninnies."

Ryan and Benny glanced at each other and then burst into laughter, enraging the woman as she waved her arm in the air. "I'll be beatin' you with my broom, for sure."

Her eyes narrowed, and she glared at the three as she stopped in front of them. Her finger poked against their chests, one by one. "So, you thought you'd leave me behind, did you?" With her hands on her hips and her foot tapping the ground, she continued to berate the men. "There'll be no pulling the wool over Lorrie's eyes."

Sandra couldn't help but snicker at the sight of the pleasantly plump woman, who reminded her of a grandmother scolding the children.

James chuckled. "Lorraine, please stop fussing and come meet the new owner of the mansion, Sandra Monroe."

Lorrie made a face at the men, then dusted off her clothes and curtsied. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. I'm Lorraine. The likes of these sports prefer to call me Lorrie. Whichever you prefer is fine with me." As she smiled, her eyes twinkled, and her voice filled with pride. "I have been Mr. Wakefield's housekeeper for the last twenty-odd years. He was a fine man, not like that woman."

She looked at the men and then turned back to Sandra, lowering her voice, "Mr. Wakefield, may he rest in peace, returned from out west—" Lorraine's chest puffed as she snorted, "With that hussy and her fancy ways, strutting around like she was high society."

"Lorrie!" James snapped but quickly let his eyes fill with amusement.

"Don't be raising your voice to me, James. You know I am speaking the truth. She insisted I curtsy when I entered the room, and I had to always say yes, ma'am, no, ma'am."

"Lorraine, you're giving Ms. Monroe the wrong impression. Has everyone lost their manners," James scolded.

Lorraine's feisty spirit refused to be reprimanded, and she continued, "Now, James, you and I both know she married Noah for his money, and she thought his untimely death would make her rich. I'd have loved to have seen her face when she learned that Ms. Monroe had inherited the whole shebang."

Lorraine leaned in closer and whispered, "It's a beautiful home, but it holds some dark secrets. Some say it's cursed."

"Lorraine, stop with your gossip! You'll be scaring the young woman away." He smiled at Sandra. "Despite their antics, my colleagues and I are happy you've chosen to come to Willow Creek."

"Yes, I came for the funeral, but I've not decided about the rest."

Lorrie's eyes widened. "Not decided. Oh, dear me, you must stay. I hope we didn't frighten you away."

"No, not at all. You're charming people, but I'm unsettled about an inheritance from someone I didn't know. Besides, I have a job in the city. I'm a crime reporter — a fledging one, but I know I'd be a good one if given the chance."

Lorraine danced and twirled around in a circle, pointing at the three men. "Perfect! A crime reporter, you say. Investigating things, right?"

"Yes, but my boss always tells me to leave the big stories to the guys. He frowns and reminds me that curiosity killed the cat. He tosses me a bone once in a while, but nothing big yet."

The detective moved closer. "Is a murder big enough?"

A loud gasp escaped Sandra's mouth, and she quickly turned to James. "A murder? Was it Mr. Wakefield?"

The judge shot an evil look in Ryan's direction. "As usual, our in-house detective has gotten ahead of himself."

Ryan scowled. "I haven't! Fact is, we have reason to believe Mr. Wakefield was murdered."

"You do! Are you on the investigation team, Ryan?" The trap was snapped, and Sandra could feel her heart pumping.

"Me? Umm — not exactly. But —"

"Listen, we hadn't meant to spring all this on you, but Ryan is always jumping the gun," James scowled.

Ignoring the bickering, Sandra plunged forward with her own questions. "Somebody is investigating, right? If not the local detective, then who? I'd love to sink my teeth into a story."

Lorrie sighed. "These dolts be beating around the bush all day, but I'll clear the air. The widow snuffed any investigation. She says Noah died from natural causes, but —"

"What did the coroner say? Who found the body and where? Did you demand an investigation if you thought she was wrong?" A whirlwind was swirling inside Sandra's head as she tried to soak everything in.

A murder?

James sighed. "We — well — I approached Madeline and suggested we should call the coroner, but she demanded I leave her to attend to her husband." He scuffed his shoe across the grass. "Madeline has friends, powerful ones, who believed her story."

Refusing to let go of a possible story, Sandra questioned everyone. "But someone — the coroner, the sheriff, a doctor, someone looked into it, right?"

"I'm afraid I'm the only one. I questioned Madeline. At first, she brushed me off, but when I continued, she began to place the blame on Theo. He's an elderly man who tends to the front lawn and the flowers. According to Madeline, Theo had a heated argument with Noah that day. She said once the sheriff discovered Theo was an ex-con, there would be no question, and he'd be arrested."

"And what did Theo say?"

Everyone exchanged looks, but no one spoke. Finally, the judge cleared his throat and said, "Theo disappeared."

"Disappeared? But where and why?" The story was building, layer by layer, but Sandra still hadn't a clue. She needed a lead. "If there's no case, what do you want me to do about it?"

"Not pointing any fingers, but how would you feel if Mrs. Wakefield accused you of murdering her husband to get your hands on the mansion?"

"Me? I didn't know the man. Why would she do that?"

James raised an eyebrow. "She's already accused you of being his mistress. Why'd she do that? Maybe her friends would back her up. They're thick as thieves. I wouldn't put it past a few of them to conjure up some stories, hoping to reap some benefits."

Sandra's voice raised a notch. "Ryan, you're a detective, and you're a judge. Can't either of you do something?"

"We're trying, but you have far more to lose than us. Don't you want to discover the actual killer of the man who left you his entire fortune? Don't you owe him that?"

"Is there an actual killer? Or is this story meant to scare the widow away? It's obvious there's no love lost between any of you and her." The group fell silent.

"I don't know what to think. I'm uncertain if I should accept the inheritance," Sandra said, her voice laced with doubt. "It may be better to refuse and let the widow have everything."

A unanimous shout of protest erupted from the group, their voices echoing in the wind. "NOOOO!"

Their reaction stunned Sandra, but she remained uncertain. "I'll take some time to think about it and let you know my decision. I need to go back home and talk to my boss. If he agrees to give me some time off, I'll come back after the weekend. But it will only be a visit."

Lorraine chimed, "In four days?"

Sandra nodded, her mind racing with the possibilities. "Yes, in four days. But I can't promise I'll stay. It's not every day someone leaves me a mansion, so I should at least see it before deciding."

Lorraine curtseyed and smiled warmly, her eyes shining with excitement. "I'll make sure everything is sparkling for you when you return, ma'am. And we'll have a pot roast with potatoes and veggies. And homemade apple pie."

"With ice cream?" Ryan asked.

Lorraine glanced at Ryan but answered, "Yes, with ice cream. Would that suit you, Ms. Monroe?"

Sandra couldn't resist Lorraine's endearing smile, and she smiled, too. "Call me Sandra, and please, don't curtsey, Lorraine."

"Thank you, ma'am; I mean Sandra. You can call me Lorrie if you wish."

"Thank you, Lorrie," Sandra said, trying to contain her desire to hug the sweet woman standing before her. "Now, I better go. It's a long drive back to the city. It's been nice meeting all of you."

Before she could leave, James asked, "You will return, right?"

Sandra nodded. "Yes, but I won't promise anything. You haven't said much about the murder. Do you think Theo is innocent?" Her mind raced with questions.

"I do. There's so much more to tell you, but it will wait," James replied solemnly.

Sandra's heart raced as Lorraine's words rolled around in her mind.

Hmm...something's going on, but what? First, the letter, then Noah's funeral, and the widow screaming at me. Can't imagine being someone's mistress, especially an old man. What am I missing? I don't know who to believe, but Lorraine's eyes were convincing. Was it all an act? And if so, What for?

Sandra knew there was more to this story. She could feel it in her bones.

"I just hope she's wrong about the mansion being haunted," she whispered, trying to shake off the eerie feeling that had settled over her.

"Don't be silly! There's no such thing as ghosts," she reassured herself, but the thought lingered.

As she turned to wave goodbye, Sandra's eyes widened in surprise when she saw everyone had disappeared. She scanned the cemetery, but the only sounds in the air were the rustling of leaves in the wind and two squirrels dashing across the grass.

"That's strange. Where did they go?"

Suddenly, she felt herself falling, and then she didn't.

"Gotcha."

Was that a voice?

Sandra's eyes widened as she looked around again. Her voice cracked. "Is someone there?"

When no one answered, she laughed. "It's a cemetery, Sandra. Dead people don't talk."

She saw the tipped-over headstone covered in moss and felt foolish. Boo!

She shook her head, muttering, "It's time to go home."

Her steps quickened as she hurried to her car, her heart still pounding. Inside the car, she stared out the window toward the garden, her head filled with unanswered questions.

As she drove through the iron gates, she mumbled, "There's no such thing as ghosts!"