Dying Scream Read Free Page B

filled out her blue sweatshirt and faded jeans. She and her husband, Dwayne, lived just miles from here and had looked after the estate for forty years. The woman dabbed red-rimmed eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”
    Concern gave Adrianna pause. “Is everything all right, Mrs. Wells?”
    Mrs. Wells sniffed. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. It’s just so emotional closing up the old place. So many memories. Thank you for asking, Mrs. Thornton.”
    Adrianna tensed. “Please, just call me Adrianna.”
    Mrs. Wells offered a lopsided smile. “It just doesn’t feel right calling you by your given name.”
    The housekeeper was over thirty years Adrianna’s senior. “This isn’t the nineteenth century, Mrs. Wells.”
    A hint of humor sparked in pale green eyes. “Now that depends on who you ask. Some folks around here would strongly argue that point. Fact, I suspect some are still thinking the Confederacy will again rise.”
    “I suppose you are right.” Adrianna smiled, following her into the parlor.
    White sheets covered the furniture and carpets had been rolled. The furnishings would go with the house but the twenty-three paintings, which now were crated and tilting against the walls, belonged to Adrianna. They awaited transport to the auction house where they’d be sold in a week. Auction proceeds would be donated to the new Thornton Neonatal Unit at Mercy Hospital.
    “It looks like you’ve made headway downstairs.”
    “All the furniture has been polished and covered in the front two rooms. I’ve still to do the rest of upstairs furnishings.”
    “Are Dwayne and Ben coming today to move the furniture to the warehouse?” Mrs. Wells’s husband and son, Dwayne and Ben Wells owned a successful moving company that specialized in antique furniture and artwork. Adrianna had used them on several Barrington Designs jobs.
    “Ben said to tell you it would be first thing tomorrow. They had another small job today. I think antiques to a dealer.” She smiled. “The paintings will go to the auction house tomorrow as well.”
    “You’ll have each piece cleaned by then?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Great. The new buyer, Mr. Mazur, had insisted the home’s interior be pristine.”
    “Excuse me for asking, but isn’t Mr. Mazur bringing in contractors to renovate the wiring and plumbing?”
    “He is. And you’re right, the contractors are going to tear the place up when they modernize. Why Mr. Mazur wants the house cleaned before a renovation is beyond me. But he is the buyer.”
    Mrs. Wells nodded. “Will do.”
    She checked her watch. “I’ve got to get down to the gravesite.”
    “I saw that Dr. Heckman headed that way.”
    Adrianna’s lips flattened. “No doubt he saw the public notice in the paper.” The notice had been required by the state.
    Dr. Cyril Heckman had been a friend of Frances Thornton for many, many years. During the last years of her life they’d grown close. He now saw it as his personal mission to maintain the Thornton estate as it had been for generations. He’d filed suit in the spring to stop the sale but Adrianna’s attorney had had it dismissed.
    “You want me to call Dwayne or Ben and have them run him off?”
    “Tempting, but I can handle him.”
    Mrs. Wells blew a strand of hair from her eyes. “I don’t like the man and I don’t care that Miss Frances was partial to him.” Mrs. Wells was intensely loyal to Frances Thornton’s memory. Frances had left Marie Wells the caretaker’s cottage and surrounding land in her will.
    “Once the furniture and paintings are gone, have Ben bring the old drums up from the basement,” Adrianna said.
    “Why do you want to fool with them? Let me go through them and save you the trouble.”
    “I think it’s best I do it.”
    “Must be three generations’ worth of stuff shoved in those bins. Good Lord, there is no telling what you’ll find.”
    “Yeah, no telling.”

Chapter Two
    Tuesday, September 26, 8:15 a.m.
    Anticipation and determination