To Trust a Thief Read Online Free PDF Page A

at least. I wonder to whom the locket belonged.”
    “Anne Benton,” Mrs. Carmichael answered.
    “Who?” Arthur asked.
    “Anne Benton.” Mrs. Carmichael turned it over, exposing the back. At the center, in the same spot where the pearls graced the front, was a small square engraved with the initials AB. “The eye portrait is of Edward Courtland, the father of your aunt’s late husband. This locket was worn by his mistress.”
    “But how did you come by it?” Arthur asked.
    “I stole it.”
    “Grandmother!”
    Min bit her lip to keep from smiling at Arthur’s shocked tone. It was always hard to imagine one’s parents or grandparents doing anything untoward.
    Mrs. Carmichael shrugged her frail shoulders. “Oh hush. I didn’t take it until after the poor woman died. She certainly wasn’t going to miss it.”
    “Yes, but why did you take it, Mrs. Carmichael?” Min asked.
    “For this.” She inserted the nail of her pinkie under the flayed flap of the portrait and carefully pried around the circumference until she was able to free it from the locket. “There we are.” Mrs. Carmichael lifted out a thinly folded square of paper.
    “What is that?” Arthur asked, taking the paper from his grandmother.
    He unfolded the delicate sheet. The yellowed page was sturdier than it looked, but he took care not to handle it more than necessary. Once the paper was completely unfolded, Arthur laid it out on his hand. The ends curled slightly over his palm. Random shapes and chicken scratches flowed from edge to edge, though the paper was so thin Min could see the contours of Arthur’s skin through it.
    There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the sketchy lines at first. But as Min continued to stare, a few landmarks took shape.
    “Is that… Is that a map?” Min asked.
    “Ah,” Mrs. Carmichael said, patting Min’s hand, “you’re a smart one. You’ll make an excellent wife for my boy.”
    Min gave her a hesitant smile.
    “Yes, my dear girl. It most certainly is a map.”
    “To what?” Arthur asked. “I recognize a few of the buildings at the Thornmont estate, but…all these scratches and markings…what do they mean?”
    “There is another piece of the map, but I was never able to find it.” Mrs. Carmichael lay back against her pillows with a tired sigh.
    “To what does the map lead, Grandmother?”
    Mrs. Carmichael turned her faded blue eyes to her grandson. “It leads to the answer to all your problems, my boy. The Courtland necklace.”
    Min sucked in a shocked breath, excitement tingling at the base of her spine. “So the legend is true.”
    Mrs. Carmichael nodded. “I’ve seen the necklace with my own eyes. I’ve touched it, even worn it for a few seconds when no one was looking. It’s real enough.”
    “But no one has seen it for more than sixty years,” Arthur protested. “According to the story Min read, Edward Courtland stole it from his wife in revenge for his mistress’s death, though most assume the Courtlands just sold it off a piece at a time.”
    “The Courtlands didn’t sell the necklace. If they had, your aunt would hardly need to take in students, that’s for certain,” she said to Min. “And Mr. Courtland certainly didn’t steal the necklace from his wife. What was hers was his. He’d have been stealing from himself. What kind of sense does that make?”
    “So who took the necklace?” Arthur asked.
    “Your grandfather.”
    “What?” Arthur jumped up. Mrs. Carmichael remained silent, her steady gaze focused on Arthur until he calmed down enough to resume his seat on the edge of her bed.
    “I don’t understand,” he said. “If Grandfather took the necklace, then where is it? Why is there a map leading to it?”
    Mrs. Carmichael burrowed herself deeper into the pillows, her face showing a faint strain. “Your grandfather was always an impulsive man. Never planned for anything. An idea would grab him and he’d be off, no thought of the consequences.” The