Read Online A Fatal Appraisal by J. B. Stanley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J. B. Stanley
Tags: cozy
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English
furniture, the Early American cabinetmakers called cherry American mahogany—and
usually stained it to look like mahogany. This is something like gilding a lily
with mud.
—George Grotz, The Furniture Doctor
Molly stood with one hand on the horse’s marble mane and
her body pressed against Stonewall Jackson's cold but reassuringly solid leg.
The woman's panicked screaming was close enough to force goose bumps to erupt up
and down Molly's arms. She felt vulnerable and frightened as the screams echoed
in the rafters of the high ceilings.
"Stop it, Ellen!" a man's voice suddenly yelled
and the shrill shrieks abruptly stopped. "For Christ's sake! It's just a
power failure."
"But I hate the dark," the woman wailed and
began to sob like a child refused its night light. “I’m scared of the dark!”
"Anyone have a flashlight?" another voice called
out timidly and Molly allowed herself to breathe.
"Just sit still!" the first authoritative voice
yelled again. 'These things never last long."
People in the exhibit space began whispering animatedly. Her
back resting against the horse’s hind leg, Molly slid down until her fingers felt
the shape of a marble hoof. Sitting on the ground in the protective gap
underneath Stonewall's mount and calmed herself. For some reason, the blackout
had seemed particularly ominous, as if the lights were going to snap back on
only to reveal a bloody corpse.
"Been reading too many mysteries," Molly mumbled
to herself. She was amazed that she could see absolutely nothing from where she
sat, but then she remembered that the exhibit hall had no windows. She strained
her ears for any unusual sounds, but only the nervous whisperings of the people
around her could be heard.
Suddenly, she thought she saw a pinprick of light coming
from the direction of the display cases against the wall. It bobbed up and down
once, then again, and then disappeared. Molly blinked. Had she really seen
anything or were her eyes playing tricks on her in the dark?
Five minutes passed, but it seemed more like twenty when the
lights were finally restored. Weak cheers arose from the people grouped in the
Civil War exhibit. Molly quickly looked around to make sure that her strange
hunch about bleeding cadavers was incorrect and then pulled herself off the
ground using Jackson’s boot for leverage.
No bodies hung from the track lighting or lay sprawled at
the feet of the imposing Robert E. Lee statue nearby, so Molly released a deep
breath and her hold on Stonewall's foot. As the museum workers returned to
their tasks and a feeling of normalcy resumed, Molly decided to take a peek at
the neareset display case before heading to her meeting with Jessica and
Borris. After all, by the time the show started the exhibit was likely to be
filled by members of the public and it would be impossible to study any of the
artifacts at lengt.
The first of three large display cases contained a selection
of letters, diaries, and daguerreotypes. Molly carefully studied the black and
white images of the young Confederate soldiers. Some of them were mere boys,
beardless and skinny, their eyes beaming with pride and innocence. Their
uniforms were clean and pressed, still unsoiled by the grit and blood of a real
battle. It was difficult to turn away from their young, determined faces and
Molly couldn’t help but wonder how many of them had survived and grown old
enough to remember their first, glory-studded days as soldiers.
The next case held musket balls, decks of playing cards,
domino boxes, and currency. There were several types of Confederate bills
displayed on rectangular pieces of black velvet along with an array of coins. A
special case boasted a series of rare gold coins that had been found on the
unidentified body of a Confederate officer. The coins had a greenish-gold
luster and the face of Lady Liberty on one side with a crown of laurel leaves
on the reverse.
Molly read the exhibit notes with a mixture of horror
furniture, the Early American cabinetmakers called cherry American mahogany—and
usually stained it to look like mahogany. This is something like gilding a lily
with mud.
—George Grotz, The Furniture Doctor
Molly stood with one hand on the horse’s marble mane and
her body pressed against Stonewall Jackson's cold but reassuringly solid leg.
The woman's panicked screaming was close enough to force goose bumps to erupt up
and down Molly's arms. She felt vulnerable and frightened as the screams echoed
in the rafters of the high ceilings.
"Stop it, Ellen!" a man's voice suddenly yelled
and the shrill shrieks abruptly stopped. "For Christ's sake! It's just a
power failure."
"But I hate the dark," the woman wailed and
began to sob like a child refused its night light. “I’m scared of the dark!”
"Anyone have a flashlight?" another voice called
out timidly and Molly allowed herself to breathe.
"Just sit still!" the first authoritative voice
yelled again. 'These things never last long."
People in the exhibit space began whispering animatedly. Her
back resting against the horse’s hind leg, Molly slid down until her fingers felt
the shape of a marble hoof. Sitting on the ground in the protective gap
underneath Stonewall's mount and calmed herself. For some reason, the blackout
had seemed particularly ominous, as if the lights were going to snap back on
only to reveal a bloody corpse.
"Been reading too many mysteries," Molly mumbled
to herself. She was amazed that she could see absolutely nothing from where she
sat, but then she remembered that the exhibit hall had no windows. She strained
her ears for any unusual sounds, but only the nervous whisperings of the people
around her could be heard.
Suddenly, she thought she saw a pinprick of light coming
from the direction of the display cases against the wall. It bobbed up and down
once, then again, and then disappeared. Molly blinked. Had she really seen
anything or were her eyes playing tricks on her in the dark?
Five minutes passed, but it seemed more like twenty when the
lights were finally restored. Weak cheers arose from the people grouped in the
Civil War exhibit. Molly quickly looked around to make sure that her strange
hunch about bleeding cadavers was incorrect and then pulled herself off the
ground using Jackson’s boot for leverage.
No bodies hung from the track lighting or lay sprawled at
the feet of the imposing Robert E. Lee statue nearby, so Molly released a deep
breath and her hold on Stonewall's foot. As the museum workers returned to
their tasks and a feeling of normalcy resumed, Molly decided to take a peek at
the neareset display case before heading to her meeting with Jessica and
Borris. After all, by the time the show started the exhibit was likely to be
filled by members of the public and it would be impossible to study any of the
artifacts at lengt.
The first of three large display cases contained a selection
of letters, diaries, and daguerreotypes. Molly carefully studied the black and
white images of the young Confederate soldiers. Some of them were mere boys,
beardless and skinny, their eyes beaming with pride and innocence. Their
uniforms were clean and pressed, still unsoiled by the grit and blood of a real
battle. It was difficult to turn away from their young, determined faces and
Molly couldn’t help but wonder how many of them had survived and grown old
enough to remember their first, glory-studded days as soldiers.
The next case held musket balls, decks of playing cards,
domino boxes, and currency. There were several types of Confederate bills
displayed on rectangular pieces of black velvet along with an array of coins. A
special case boasted a series of rare gold coins that had been found on the
unidentified body of a Confederate officer. The coins had a greenish-gold
luster and the face of Lady Liberty on one side with a crown of laurel leaves
on the reverse.
Molly read the exhibit notes with a mixture of horror
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