Another Man's Treasure (a romantic thriller) (Palmyrton Estate Sale Mystery Series Book 1) Read Online Free

what amounts to a second full time job on Spencer Finneran’s campaign for governor. You’re probably going to think I’m heartless for saying this, but Agnes’s death couldn’t have come at a worse time. The election’s only a month away.”
    “In my experience, there’s really never a good time to die.”
    He hangs his head, then looks up at me through his now-tousled hair. “Honestly, I’m not a horrible human being. Agnes was my great aunt, my grandmother’s sister.  I only saw her a few times in my life, at weddings and funerals.  Since I’m the family lawyer, I helped her draw up her will and she made me her executor.  She never had kids. This jewelry is a little…uh… family complication I wasn’t expecting.  I’m not sure I’ll be selling it, so I don’t want to appraise it now.  But I can’t deal with it until after the election.”
      In my line of work, I’ve learned all about family complications.  Relatives can come to blows over a hideous cuckoo clock or a chipped turkey platter, never mind a pile of jewelry. Even without knowing the backstory of Agnes Szabo’s treasure chest,  I can believe that straightening it out might cost Cal Tremaine hours of aggravation that he can’t afford right now.  And sparing my clients the agita of dealing with their dead relatives’ stuff is what my business is all about.  “I understand, Mr. Tremaine.  Would you like me to hang on to the trunk until after the election?  I could have it appraised once you’ve had time to consider your options.”
    “That would be ideal, Ms. Nealon.” He hesitates on my name.  It’s pretty ridiculous to keep calling each other Ms. Nealon and Mr. Tremaine when we probably both watched the A-Team and Three’s Company growing up. 
    “I’m Audrey,” I say.
    “Cal,” he answers.
    He smiles.  His two front teeth have a very slight overlap.  “Thanks, Audrey. I really appreciate it.”
    I feel the ring in my pocket, a tiny little bump that’s pressing into me tormentingly, like the Princess and the pea.  I should pull it out right now, explain that I think it was my mother’s, ask if he has any idea how it came to be in his aunt’s house.  I glance over at the photo on my bookshelf.  The proof of my right to the ring is there, but who is more likely to claim that possession is nine-tenths of the law than a lawyer like Cal Tremaine?  I can’t risk losing the ring, not before I show it to my father.  If Cal’s leaving the trunk with me anyway, what difference does it make if the ring is in my pocket or thrown in with the rest of the stuff?  When Cal’s ready to deal with the jewelry, I’ll be ready to ask him about the ring.
    In the meantime, I need another answer.  “What about the drugs we found in the kitchen?  How do you want to handle that?”
    The smile disappears like someone pulled a plug and the hard-assed lawyer returns.  “You’re not suggesting an eighty year old woman was dealing drugs out of her kitchen?”
    “Has her house been unoccupied for a while?” I ask.
    “About two months. She was in the hospital before she died.”
    “My assistant thinks a dealer may have been using your aunt’s place as a stash house,” I explain. 
    Cal opens his mouth, then shuts it.  He sits on my sofa as motionless as a mannequin, but I can practically see the gears spinning beneath his perfectly trimmed brown hair.  Something seems to click and he focuses on me again. Now his smile seems a little forced.
    “You found the pills today but you haven’t called the police yet?”
    “I would’ve called right away, but I got distracted by Jill falling through the ceiling and the discovery of the trunk.”  And my mother’s ring.  
    “So, the drugs are still in the kitchen?”
    “They were when we left.”  I glance over at my phone.  “Do you want to call the police right now?”
    He holds up a restraining hand.  “I can’t deal with the police right now--I have plans tonight