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)
My plan after getting out of my bloody shirt? A soothing cup of tea and the chance to compile a list detailing everything that happened at the museum. Any mystery was best solved by keeping a meticulously organized file, and I wasn’t about to let any detail of the vanishing body mystery slip through the cracks.
For preppers, lists aren’t just helpful—they’re lifelines. They ensure nothing is forgotten and every angle is considered. They bring clarity to chaos, focus to frenzy, and security to uncertainty. Whether it’s groceries, gear, or museum shenanigans, lists are the backbone of preparedness. And trust me, being prepared is never overrated.
Mo enjoyed the treat I gave him and returned to watch the men working on the deck. Roxie retreated to the library once she finished her snack to sleep, and I settled on the couch with my laptop to compile my list.
I was so intent on the list that the noise of the numerous power tools didn’t disturb me at all, but Mo’s sudden growl did. I’d been so lost in my task that I hadn’t seen Mo go to the front door. He sat in front of it growling. Then I heard it. A vehicle coming up the driveway.
I opened the door to see a black truck. Mo’s growl grew louder, and I didn’t need to see the driver to know who it was.
Stone.
I stepped outside with Mo and ordered, “Sit. And behave unless I say otherwise.”
Mo sat, his chest out and his chin up.
Stone stuck his head out the window. “He’s not going to attack me, is he?”
“Not unless you give him cause.”
Stone got out of the truck and raised his hands as if in surrender. “I mean no harm, gorgeous.”
Mo snarled showing his impressive sharp teeth.
“He doesn’t like you calling me gorgeous. That’s for Ian alone.”
“Sweetheart—”
Mo’s snarl grew.
“Pepper works best,” I advised.
“A name that fits you since you’re hot and spicy,” Stone said. “Hey, he didn’t growl. Hot and spicy, it is. Let’s shorten that to Spicy. It suits you perfectly.”
I didn’t want to waste time arguing with him, so I let it go. “What do you want, Stone?”
“To let you know that wasn’t one of my crew you found in the basement of that museum. Your dad brought me in again—I’m really getting familiar with that police station—to see if the dead guy was one of mine. I didn’t recognize him. There are plenty of guys that want to look tough, like they belong to a motorcycle club, but don’t. He could be hired muscle.”
“Working for someone,” I said, the scene in the bookstore returning and hearing “Do what you were hired—” before Vera had interfered. Had the guy been ordering the now-dead guy to finish off the guy in the hospital? Had he hired him to steal my mom’s purse? Could Stone be lying and the dead guy was actually one of his crew?
He was at Treetop that night but so was Professors Anderson and Swatcher. It could have been any one of the three.
“You don’t trust me, Spicy, do you?”
“You got that right,” I confirmed. “I’m surprised that with you claiming to be a Willow that you haven’t been to the Willow Mansion.”
“You don’t know if I have, though I haven’t been there.” He shook his head. “You’re good, Spicy, you got the answer without asking the question. It would be a waste of my time. If the jewels were there they would have been found by now. The Willow guy had them buried with his daughter as stupid as that was, and they will eventually be mine.”
“Professor Anderson—”
“Is an idiot when he told me that the jewels weren’t mine to claim. Not so. The mausoleum doesn’t belong to the historical society. The church oversees it for the Willow family. So, when I prove I am a direct descendent of Ignatius Willow, I’ll have Verbena’s tomb opened and the jewels will be rightfully mine.”
“And what proof is that?” I asked, upset hearing his plans to disturb Verbena’s resting place.
He grinned like the Cheshire cat. “I’m on to you, Spicy. You can’t get me to divulge secrets that easily.” His grin turned wickedly seductive. “Though there are ways that might work.”
“In your dreams,” I said.
He laughed. “That you are, Spicy, and constantly, though I can’t wait until it’s not a dream.”
“I’m not inclined to suffer a nightmare.”
His laugh turned hardy. “You are entertaining. So, tell me, did you find the secret passageway to the mausoleum yet? And don’t bother to deny that you’re searching for one. I know for a fact you are.”
“How do you know?”
“I did some digging and discovered that most of the older vaults have escape hatches just in case someone accidentally gets locked in. After learning about your story of the vanishing body, which people were only too glad to share with me, I figured it was the only way the guy got out without being seen. I bet I can find it before you,” he challenged with a smile.