Mysteries of Holt House - A Mystery Read Free Page B

dinner.
    “Sure, but I want to drop my things off at
home first. I’ll drive over after I put everything away.”
    I dropped her off at her place and
returned to my apartment.
    Sharon showed up about an hour later. I’d
just put a casserole in the oven, so we sat down on the couch and discussed my
idea while we waited.
    “It has some merit,” Sharon said
grudgingly, “although not much in my opinion. I hope you really are going to
give this more thought.”
    “Sharon, I don’t want to go back to work
at the law firm. This way I’d have a continuing income and I’d have plenty to
keep me busy just keeping the place running and the guests happy.”
    “I don’t know about this, Kelly,” she
said, hesitantly.
    “You know, if it turns out to be a
thriving venture, maybe you could quit your job and come work with me. I can’t
do it all alone.”
    “Yeah, right.”
    “No. I mean it. We could have a lot of fun
running our own business. I figure you could be sort of a partner.”
    The timer on the oven buzzed so I excused
myself while I took the casserole out of the oven.
    “ There’s one drawback ,” I yelled
from the kitchen.
    “What’s that?” Sharon walked in and began
setting the table while I prepared a salad.
    “This project is going to take a huge
chunk out of the money I’ve got left. There will be enough for things I’ll
probably want to do to the house, and then maybe enough to keep me going for
six months or so. So it’s got to work or I’m back to square one, only I’ll be
the owner of a very large, very quiet home.”
    “You’ve got to be out of your mind!”
Sharon paused, looking first thoughtful and then resigned. “Oh, well, they say
you’ve got to spend money to make money.”
    “Yeah. If I fail, I just go back to a regular
job.”
    The idea of going back to work made my
stomach churn and my heart pound.

 
    Chapter Three
    Over the next few days I spent every spare
moment working out the details. It looked good, at least on paper. I knew I
could afford the house, although I’d have to be careful, but I had plans to
make. I’d have to hire help, I knew I’d want to make some additions and minor
changes to the house, and this was the most important part, I had to find
people who wanted to live out in the country. I called and made an appointment
to see the house and asked Sharon to go with me.
    On Wednesday, Sharon left work a few hours
early and drove to my apartment. While I waited for her, I got out the portrait
of Mrs. Holt and leaned it against the wall. The painting was the one item I’d
brought home with me. I was studying it when there was a knock on the door.
    “Come in,” I called.
    “Admiring yourself?” Sharon sat down on
the couch next to me.
    “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I just can’t
believe we look so much alike. I’d like to find out more about her if I can.”
    “Well, unless you find someone who knew
her, you’re going to have a problem. It appears she and her husband were very
reclusive.”
    “I know. I wonder if that housekeeper is
still around. There must be someone who knows what her name is and what became
of her.”
    “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
    We turned and looked at the portrait. Mrs.
Holt had been painted in subdued lighting. She was wearing a dark blue velvet
dress, which accentuated her deep blue eyes. The dress had a sloping neckline,
was slightly off the shoulders, and she wore a diamond necklace with matching
earrings. Her dark blonde hair was long and hung in soft curls around her face
and shoulders. It had been fluffed just enough around her face so the earrings
could be seen. The sleeves of the dress were long and billowy, and her delicate
hands rested in her lap with a blood-red rose gently clasped in her fingers.
She wore little or no make-up, and appeared to have a flawless complexion. She
looked like she was probably around thirty-five or so when the portrait was
painted.
    She had a very relaxed half-smile on