Read Online A Killer Collection by J. B. Stanley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J. B. Stanley
Tags: Southern, amateur sleuth, cozy mystery, antiques, mystery series, female detective, J.B. Stanley, antique pottery, molly appleby, Collectible mystery
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voice—"and I may not know much about pottery ,
but I do know people . Several of my good friends are board
members for the museum, so you come highly recommended."
"Wow. So then Lex called her
back and she wanted him over lickety-split?" Molly asked.
"She's going to
redecorate," announced Lex, hopping down the porch stairs in front of
Clara. Lex was a bit shorter than Kitty with close-cropped brown hair and a
neat, light brown beard. His chestnut eyes were bright with anticipation.
"Right darling?" He grabbed one of Kitty's hands and planted a kiss
on her freckled skin.
"Enough yapping!" Clara
quickly clapped her hands and ordered everyone into Lex's van. “Time to go.
Hurry, hurry, hurry!"
~~~~~
The Staunton residence was just south of Asheboro, an
easy commute to George-Bradley's law office in the business district. Driving
through the town, it was obvious that the year's drought and bad economy had
left their mark on the local businesses. Many of the storefronts were vacant.
For Lease or For Rent signs hung in every third window. Most of the stores in
operation had large red sale signs in their windows, but his attempts to
attract customers did not seem to be working.
The streets were nearly empty. A
few people meandered on the sidewalks or looked in windows, but it was very
quiet for a Saturday morning in June. The block where George-Bradley's law
office was located was tucked away down a side street, but Molly caught the
gilt lettering of his sign as the van passed by.
"What do you think will
happen to his practice?" she asked out loud.
"He's got a partner,"
her mother replied, "so I'm sure it will continue under a different
name."
Molly mused over the gilt sign. It
would soon be replaced and George-Bradley's lengthy name would be missing from
the new gilt plaque. It would also be erased from the office’s letterhead,
business cards, legal documents, and slowly, from memory. It was a sobering
thought.
Heading south, Lex drove just
outside the city limits and turned right onto a curved lane lined with ancient
magnolia trees. They were in bloom; their wide, creamy flowers sat like cupped
hands in the waxy leaves. The thick branches met and intertwined across the
heights of the narrow lane, creating a sun-speckled path to the Staunton
Estate.
At the foot of the driveway, two
stately wrought iron gates had been opened wide for their arrival, controlled
electronically from the house. A beautiful cobblestone driveway, slick with
water after a morning wash, led them up a crested hill dotted with dogwoods,
pear trees, and crepe myrtles. Each side of the driveway was lined with a bed
of lilies, coneflowers, and black-eyed Susans. There wasn't so much as a leaf
out of place in the yard. When the house came into view, Molly gasped.
A large Georgian brick, the house
greeted them with a wide front veranda bordered by boxwood bushes. Thick white
columns flanked the door and a flagstone path wove off to the side, leading to
a walled kitchen garden. From the center of the house, two long wings stretched
off symmetrically to each side, giving the impression of a pair of strong arms
resting on the ground. The beige trim was clean, the black shutters shone as if
newly painted, the windows sparkled without streaks in the morning sun, and the
front step welcomed them with a woven doormat with the letter S monogrammed
upon it.
Lex moved forward and rang the
bell. A series of ding- dongs purred through the house. Molly half expected a
butler to answer the door, stiff-necked and dressed in full house uniform, but
Bunny opened it, releasing a cloud of perfume into the morning air.
Bunny looked much like the other
wealthy southern women who came to Lex's auctions. She was short and round with
plump arms and sausage-shaped fingers. She wore a long, black pantsuit with a
chartreuse linen shirt-jacket on top. A thick collar of gold fit snugly around
her neck, and she wore several gold bracelets, a Rolex, and rings with
but I do know people . Several of my good friends are board
members for the museum, so you come highly recommended."
"Wow. So then Lex called her
back and she wanted him over lickety-split?" Molly asked.
"She's going to
redecorate," announced Lex, hopping down the porch stairs in front of
Clara. Lex was a bit shorter than Kitty with close-cropped brown hair and a
neat, light brown beard. His chestnut eyes were bright with anticipation.
"Right darling?" He grabbed one of Kitty's hands and planted a kiss
on her freckled skin.
"Enough yapping!" Clara
quickly clapped her hands and ordered everyone into Lex's van. “Time to go.
Hurry, hurry, hurry!"
~~~~~
The Staunton residence was just south of Asheboro, an
easy commute to George-Bradley's law office in the business district. Driving
through the town, it was obvious that the year's drought and bad economy had
left their mark on the local businesses. Many of the storefronts were vacant.
For Lease or For Rent signs hung in every third window. Most of the stores in
operation had large red sale signs in their windows, but his attempts to
attract customers did not seem to be working.
The streets were nearly empty. A
few people meandered on the sidewalks or looked in windows, but it was very
quiet for a Saturday morning in June. The block where George-Bradley's law
office was located was tucked away down a side street, but Molly caught the
gilt lettering of his sign as the van passed by.
"What do you think will
happen to his practice?" she asked out loud.
"He's got a partner,"
her mother replied, "so I'm sure it will continue under a different
name."
Molly mused over the gilt sign. It
would soon be replaced and George-Bradley's lengthy name would be missing from
the new gilt plaque. It would also be erased from the office’s letterhead,
business cards, legal documents, and slowly, from memory. It was a sobering
thought.
Heading south, Lex drove just
outside the city limits and turned right onto a curved lane lined with ancient
magnolia trees. They were in bloom; their wide, creamy flowers sat like cupped
hands in the waxy leaves. The thick branches met and intertwined across the
heights of the narrow lane, creating a sun-speckled path to the Staunton
Estate.
At the foot of the driveway, two
stately wrought iron gates had been opened wide for their arrival, controlled
electronically from the house. A beautiful cobblestone driveway, slick with
water after a morning wash, led them up a crested hill dotted with dogwoods,
pear trees, and crepe myrtles. Each side of the driveway was lined with a bed
of lilies, coneflowers, and black-eyed Susans. There wasn't so much as a leaf
out of place in the yard. When the house came into view, Molly gasped.
A large Georgian brick, the house
greeted them with a wide front veranda bordered by boxwood bushes. Thick white
columns flanked the door and a flagstone path wove off to the side, leading to
a walled kitchen garden. From the center of the house, two long wings stretched
off symmetrically to each side, giving the impression of a pair of strong arms
resting on the ground. The beige trim was clean, the black shutters shone as if
newly painted, the windows sparkled without streaks in the morning sun, and the
front step welcomed them with a woven doormat with the letter S monogrammed
upon it.
Lex moved forward and rang the
bell. A series of ding- dongs purred through the house. Molly half expected a
butler to answer the door, stiff-necked and dressed in full house uniform, but
Bunny opened it, releasing a cloud of perfume into the morning air.
Bunny looked much like the other
wealthy southern women who came to Lex's auctions. She was short and round with
plump arms and sausage-shaped fingers. She wore a long, black pantsuit with a
chartreuse linen shirt-jacket on top. A thick collar of gold fit snugly around
her neck, and she wore several gold bracelets, a Rolex, and rings with
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