A Veiled Antiquity (Torie O'Shea Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page A

house in the dark, I will. And you aren’t old enough to question me as to why. All right? Are we clear on this, girls? Mary, you touch nothing. Rachel, you say nothing. Once we get out of here, you can ask me all the questions you want to.”
    Rachel sighed.
    I walked through the rest of the house, holding Mary’s hand tightly so she couldn’t get away, and I noticed that the house was indeed done in expensive taste, from what I could see. The furniture was all antique. China and fluted crystal were set everywhere. I couldn’t make out specific details, like color schemes, since it was so dark. Her bedroom was neat and orderly, the covers on one side of the bed turned down, looking as though it had been slept in, if only for an hour. The bed did not give the appearance of being messed up enough for an entire night’s sleep.
    Marie got up in the middle of the night, went to the kitchen for a glass of milk, and for some reason decided to go into the basement? That didn’t make sense. I know I only go in my basement at high noon.
    Of course, I’m also a chicken. Maybe Marie was not as frightened of things that go bump in the night as I am.
    But an older woman who lived alone? Why go to the basement?
    There was something dark lying on her bed. I looked closer. It was a hairbrush.
    “Mommy,” Mary said. “I have to go pee.”
    I headed back through the living room for the kitchen, and stopped at the basement door. Opening it, I wasn’t the least bit disappointed by the fact that it was dark and icky smelling. I hadn’t expected anything else.
    “I am not going down there,” Rachel said. “No way. Forget it.”
    Bending down on one knee, I examined the floor near the first step. There was no raised piece of tile or anything. No nail sticking up to cause her to trip. I stood up.
    “So she just stood here and fell,” I said aloud. She had on a housecoat that came to her knees, so that wasn’t long enough to interfere with her walking. And she had on house slippers.
    I have to admit, those can be difficult to walk in.
    Bright headlights appeared in Marie’s kitchen window. The lights cast sharp angular shadows of the knickknacks sitting around. Rachel gasped and I slammed the basement door shut and prepared to run outside. Only, I heard the car door shut. The lights were still shining inside, on high beam.
    “Shoot.”
    “Mommy, I gotta go pee,” Mary said.
    I slumped to the floor, and instantly felt ridiculous for doing so, especially since both of my children were still standing up looking down at me with superior amusement.
    What if it was Mr. Reaves coming to meet whomever it was that he was supposed to meet? I might be able to explain being in the house, but I’d never be able to explain being on the floor.
    “Mom, it’s a car,” Rachel said.
    Just as I was about to get up, the doorknob turned. I could see a vague outline of a man. He had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, smoke distorting the glass. It could not be Mr. Reaves. The man standing on the other side of the door was way too tall.
    So why didn’t he come in? He knew the door was unlocked.
    Unlike me, he probably had respect for private property.
    So, there I sat on Marie Dijon’s kitchen floor, looking up at the underneath side of her kitchen table. Thanks to the bright headlights, it was an enlightening position. Silver duct tape held a fat manila envelope onto the underneath side of the table. Money? Jewelry? Something that Marie Dijon did not want anybody to find.
    “Mom?”
    “Get down,” I said to them. The man walked away from the door, but I did not hear him get back in the car. I crawled to the bathroom.
    “Okay, Mary, you pee. Rachel, you watch her and make sure she pees. Don’t come out of this bathroom unless I say to. And don’t make any noise.”
    “Well, Mom. You know, Mary has to make noise when she goes pee.”
    “Okay. No noise after she’s done going. Okay?”
    I crawled into the living room to try to get a