Larceny and Lace Read Online Free PDF

smell.
    “"That fixture needs a new ballast,”" my father said.
    I was sure the fluorescent tubes would need replacing before we could see the storage room properly, but the fixture finally clicked one last time and shed a modicum of light, however uneven and dim. “"Dad, will you add fluorescent bulbs to our list?”" He raised his notebook in a “"will do”" salute.
    At first glance, the room might be someone’'s attic—--cluttered, musty, and dusty. Lots to see in the disorderly, pack-rat stash, including the additional hearse that Dolly hinted was here. But I could focus on only one thing: a set of perfectly aligned white enamel body drawers, four by four along the back wall.
    “"We brought those up for storage,”" Dante said beside me. “"This wasn’'t the embalming room.”"
    “"Do I want to know where it was?”" I replied without thinking.
    “"No, you don’'t,”" Aunt Fiona said, a warning in her look.
    “"Downstairs,”" Dante said. “"In the basement.”" My head came up. “"I forgot about the basement.”" The construction foreman said it existed but was inaccessible, and since my funds were limited, I’'d told them to stick to the main floor.
    “"Madeira?”" my father asked. “"Are you talking to yourself?”" Great, I was so spooked by the body drawers, I’'d answered a ghost that only Fiona and I could see and hear. I’'d have to get better at ignoring Dante. “"Yes and no, Dad. I just realized that the morgue and embalming room must have been in the basement.”"
    “"You’'re right,”" Dante added. “"But you can only get to the basement via the casket lift in this room, behind the debris toward the front. It’'s sealed on the main floor just below, in your dressing room.”"
    I wanted to tell Dante that he could have warned me, but I guess ghosts lose their people skills after a while. At some point, I’'d build a stairway to my basement, beneath the stairs that led up here. After I did, I could enlarge this room and my dressing room . . . and find out what lurked below. Shiver.
    Aunt Fiona nudged my chin up with a finger and looked into my eyes. “"You knew the building’'s history, dear, when you accepted Dolly’'s terms. You shouldn’'t let a little thing like body drawers throw you. You’'re thrilled to have the place, remember? And you’'re in it for the long haul.”"
    She was right, but I had no chance to acknowledge it because a sluice of ice water ran up my spine, as if someone had stabbed me in the back with an icicle. The sensation brought a shivery, stomach-churning knowledge that had nothing to do with body drawers or embalming rooms and everything to do with—--I whipped around to look behind me. Three side windows, with shared frames between them, overlooked West Main Street and the playhouse beyond. In this instance, a nightmare.
    The sight tripped my heart and parched my throat.
     
    “"The playhouse is on fire!”"
    Seven I want to create theater, clothes are theater.
    -JEAN PAUL GAULTIER
    “"A small fire, thank God,”" my dad said, after a second of visual confirmation.
    “"Let’'s try to keep it that way.”" He took the stairs as fast as my intruder had.
    “"I didn’'t know Harry could move that fast,”" Fiona said as she took out her cell phone. “"911,”" she explained before she spoke to a dispatcher and gave the address. I caught her arm to stop her as she headed for the stairs. “"Smoke with your asthma?
    You’'ll end up in the hospital, Aunt Fee. Wait here.”"
    “"Thank you, sweetie. You’'re right.”" She slipped her phone back into the colorful Louis Vuitton bag I’'d given her.
    “"Sampson might still be at the playhouse,”" I said as Eve and I went downstairs.
    “"His lights were on earlier.”"
    Broderick Sampson had been baiting the locals worse than usual, lately, with his plan to sell to a department-store chain and, as many had said, “"ruin the quaint charm of historic downtown Mystic.”"
    We cleared Vintage Magic