Read Online Beneath the Hallowed Hill by Theresa Crater - Free Book Online

arrival.
    Michael straightened out his jacket and walked up the marble steps, moving from the familiar comfort of his group’s headquarters into the elegance of the Le Clair family’s club. An enormous chandelier dominated the front entrance. He approached the concierge who stepped out from behind the desk. “This way, sir.”
    Michael followed down carpeted hallways, passing portraits of famous members and tall potted palms and orange trees marking out quiet nooks, to an elevator that swooshed silently upward. They emerged into another long hallway and walked halfway down to a set of double doors. The concierge knocked and the door opened from within. Arnold’s large frame blocked the entrance.
    An unexpected wave of relief washed through Michael. “It’s good to see you.”
    The head of the Le Clair family security waved Michael inside a surprisingly modern suite. The sleek wooden floors gleamed beneath Turkish rugs, but it was the expanse of windows overlooking the city that caught his eye. Ice clinked in a glass, and Michael turn to find a chrome bar in one corner. Doctor Abernathy held out a glass of some burnt amber liquid. “I expect you need some fortification.”
    Michael accepted the drink and looked around for a seat.
    “Over here.” Doctor Abernathy indicated a table near the windows. “Hungry?”
    Michael shrugged. He didn’t eat the night before and only nibbled on the plane. He should be hungry, but only felt empty and cold.
    “Soup?”
    “I guess I should eat something.”
    “I’m sorry for your loss, son.”
    Michael sank into the chair and loosened his tie. “I was just in Glastonbury,” he said almost at random.
    “How did you find things?”
    “I hardly had time to see the house, but everything seemed fine. We were at the Well when I got the news.”
    “What do you know so far?”
    Michael told him what Jacob shared with the group. He took a sip of what turned out to be cognac. It burned its way down his throat and spread a fine fire through his torso.
    “We’ve done a bit of poking around ourselves,” Doctor Abernathy said.
    “The group is grateful for any help.”
    “Nonsense. You’re family now.”
    Another knock interrupted them. Arnold opened the door, and a white clad waiter brought a tray to the table and lifted the cover from the dish as if he were unveiling a masterpiece. The smell of French onion soup wafted up and Michael’s stomach answered with a gurgle. “That was fast. Thank you.”
    Doctor Abernathy waited until Arnold had shown the man out. “We cross-referenced the New York and New Jersey DMV with the names we know and found a black Mercedes owned by one James Smith. His fingerprints match Karl Mueller’s. He’s working for Cagliostro now. We suspect we’ve found our killer.”
    “Whereas the police never will.” Arnold turned a chair around and sat straddling it.
    “You found him so easily,” Michael said.
    “Only because I have access to certain files,” Arnold answered.
    Michael had seen enough of the man’s methods not to doubt him. He mopped the last of the soup up with a scrap of roll, then pushed the tray away.
    “What did they steal?” Arnold asked.
    “Crystals. Robert did some psychic research for us on a collection that was willed to the order by a member from the Bay Area. He was on his way to our headquarters to return them.”
    “You’re certain they were with him?” Arnold asked.
    “Yes. He thought they were programmed in Atlantis, that one of them was a sentinel for the Tuaoi Stone.”
    Doctor Abernathy let out a low whistle. “Do you concur?”
    “Robert is—” Michael lowered his head. “—was the best psychic I’ve ever known. I trust his judgment. He wrote a report, but we didn’t have time to discuss his findings.”
    “Have you read it?” Doctor Abernathy asked.
    Michael shook his head.
    Arnold leaned forward. “Can you access it?”
    “I don’t want to rush the family.”
    Doctor Abernathy looked at Arnold,