Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
I tucked the skeleton key safely away in one of the pockets of my light blue multi-vest, hearing another tour group about to climb the stairs. I made my way down the Persian carpet that muffled my steps to see several women hurrying away from who I assumed were their husbands, smiling broadly and rushing to hold their phones up to snap photos while the men shook their heads.
I shook my head along with the men, knowing what caught the attention of women young to elderly—Ian.
Sure enough, I was halfway down the grand staircase when I spotted Ian surrounded by a gaggle of women. He patiently took photos with anyone who asked and even signed a book or two that women pulled out of their oversized purses. A couple of female admirers even ran their fingers over the temporary dragon tattoo on his arm which annoyed me. I did not like them touching him.
Possessive, are we?
The idea stung and made me realize that love could go a lot deeper than imagined and make people feel more strongly and do things one would never think of doing. That thought struck a cord and I hurried to look at the Willow family portrait once again, the gaggle of Ian’s fans soon forgotten.
I stared at Ignatius Willow, his one arm hugging his daughter and his other arm around his wife’s waist, keeping both close, not the usual portrait poses of that period. Was he worried that someone might take the two away from him or was he letting everyone know he would never let anything happen to either of them? Or had he done something that had placed them both in danger and remained vigilant that they did not suffer for his error?
I turned, hearing footsteps behind me, excited to see Ian and waited until he got close to whisper, “What if Ignatius was a thief and stole jewels to pay for his way to America and build a future?”
“What got that idea in your head?” he asked, his arm going around my waist and giving me a quick kiss.
I turned, his arm remaining around my waist as we viewed the portrait together. “Look at her necklace. That’s not a necklace a woman who lived in a budding town in America would wear. So, where did it come from? Who did it belong to, and where is it now?”
Ian stared at the portrait. “You do have a point. Maybe they were both thieves working together and were near to being caught so they hopped a ship to the New World.”
“The treasure could be far larger than we thought,” I said.
“Unless it has already been found which means the demise of the Willow Lake Historical Society.”
Ian and I turned to see Amy.
“If the Willow Lake Historical Society doesn’t have an infusion of money soon, it will cease to exist and that means the Willow Mansion will fall to the town for unpaid taxes yet again, the Willow Lake Historical Museum will be closed, the two scholarships they hand out, small as they are, will be no more, and the two books the society hoped to publish will never see print.”
“The society’s finances are that dire?” I asked.
“Thanks to Melvin Waters, mishandling or possibly embezzling the money. Edna just told me that Melvin had big traveling plans. I wouldn’t be surprised if he chose countries with no extradition agreements with the United States,” Amy said. “His plans called for far more money than he may have embezzled so I wonder if he found the jewels and sold them.”
“He had to leave his money to someone,” Ian said.
“I’ll find out from the county clerk if he has a will and request a copy,” Amy said. “It will show his assets and how they were to be distributed. Unless he squirreled it away in another country, but I’ve dealt with this stuff before in my accounting business. If he has bank accounts out there somewhere, I’ll find them and get the money owed to the historical society. But it will take time, and the historical society needs an infusion of money now. I’ve got to go. I can’t be late for the Summer Festival Association meeting. The mayor is threatening to eliminate some of the summer festivals due to financial woes and it’s due to the worthless town business manager he appointed last year. The man has no idea what he’s doing. Your mom is going to have her hands full when she inherits the mess Mayor Barrett has created.” She glanced around. “Beau was supposed to pick me up.”
“I’m your ride,” Ian announced gallantly. “Beau got stuck on a business call and asked me to get you since I wanted to see how Pep was doing.”
“Beau has a sharp mind for finances,” Amy said proudly.
Ian agreed with a nod. “Which is why he is my business partner.” He turned to me. “Leaving? Staying?”