Witch One Dunnit? (Rachael Penzra mystery) Read Free Page A

with you.  Please hold.”  There followed a series of clicks, surely unnecessary in this day and age, but impressive-sounding all the same.  I wondered if she was making clicking noises with her tongue.  A final click (I swear it was louder than the preceding ones) and the Voice formally announced my presence on the line.
       “Thanks, Mary,” a less officious voice said.  “Ms. Penzra?” was spoken with less confidence.  Apparently the Voice was necessary to keep Mr. Goldberg abreast of the world through modern technology.  He didn’t sound terribly comfortable with the phone system.  I wondered how he coped with computers.
       “I’m Rachael Penzra,” I assured him.
       He sounded relieved.  Once again the telephone had managed to defy nature and connect him with someone across the country. I secretly agreed with him.  Talk about magic!  “I’m Saul Goldberg.  I’m calling about your aunt, Josephine Penzra.  Under the terms of her will, you’re an heir to her estate.”
       He then informed me, in more or less simple terms, that I’d inherited the bulk of her estate.  The bulk of her estate apparently consisted of her house and all of its furnishings, her business, her car, and a very nice little chunk of change. 
       Ma was going to have a fit!
       “There is one small catch,” I was told.  My first rush of pure covetousness cooled quickly at the caveat.  What small catch? How small?
       It turned out it wasn’t exactly a small catch . And it was actually less a request than a demand. I had to live in and run The Lady’s Tree inBalsam Grove.  If I chose not to, I’d receive a hundred thousand dollars outright, no strings attached, but I’d get nothing else. “You might want to fly out here and look things over,” the lawyer told me.  “The cost will come out of the estate, of course.”
       My main problem with compliance was my youngest son, Danny.  He was graduating in the spring, and was now in the midst of his senior year.  There was no way I would leave him, at this point, to live on his own.  He’s a wonderful teenage boy—and I didn’t trust him an inch.  Yet within a few months he’d be on his way to a summer job in the wilds of Wyoming, and then he’d be off to college in the fall. Until then, however, I was his keeper.
       “I’d have to stay here until early June,” I explained.  “My youngest boy is graduating from high school this year, and I can’t ask him to move to a different school at this stage of the game, nor can I just pack up and leave him with a friend for months.  Not that I don’t trust him, but...”
       “Say no more.  I have teenagers myself,” he chuckled.  “That’s not a difficulty.  Your aunt and I discussed potential problems.  She suggested you don’t wait longer than a year to try running the store simply because it’s difficult to restart a business when it’s been closed, but starting a bit late into the season won’t hurt.  You’re not being held to anything, you understand.  This is a simply request she’s made.  You’ll inherit the hundred thousand whatever you choose to do.”
       The minute he released me from the trap, I refused to leave it.  I’m often foolish about things like that.  Besides, wonderful as the cash sounded, I had enough sense to understand a lot of it would be spent (probably on a decent car) and gone within a year or so. “She knew I’m not particularly... satisfied with my life.  I’ve been working at developing my own cleaning business.  I already have six outside clients, which is the most I can handle and still work at my full-time position.  When my son graduates, I’ll be able to commit myself fully, one way or another.”  The truth of the matter was I’d been dreading the decision, the final step binding me to the cleaning business forever.  Cleaning up after other people was all I was trained for, though, and I really didn’t feel motivated