A Dangerous Tune

A Dangerous Tune

A Contemporary Romantic Mystery

by Rosemary Carr & Evan Asher

Book Description: The trouble starts when Kristol Henderson inherits her grandmother’s antique phonographs, old machines that Kristol loves but are not worth all that much. So, what happened to the rest of the woman’s fortune? Kristol’s resentful relatives believe she holds the clue to the missing money. To complicate things further she’s fallen for Derek Castle, the attractive man appointed to be executor of the estate. But he seems to have a secret. His passionate kisses thrill her even as his evasiveness gives her reason to question his true intentions. Kristol has no answers, but she knows one thing for sure: someone is targeting her.

© 2015 by Rosemary Carr & Evan Asher

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 9781310789458

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the authors, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events in this work are either products of the authors’ imaginations or used fictitiously.

Cover art: ©Depositphotos.com/mythja

Cover design: E. Asher

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter 1

Under an overcast autumn sky, a small group of mourners gathered on the wide porch, waiting for Cornelius Thorne to punch in the security code with his aged, trembling fingers. The others sighed or shifted about impatiently, but Kristol Henderson felt a surge of sympathy for him. He’d worked for her grandmother as long as Kristol could remember.

Okay, folks, he said, standing aside in his usual servant’s posture. He followed them inside.

I don’t know why we aren’t doing this at the attorney’s office. That’s where wills are usually read. Gleason Gray removed his glasses, wiped them on his scarf, and replaced them.

Janice Preston, Gleason’s sister, said, It was probably something Mother wanted. You know how she was.

Probably so. I suppose the study is the best place for this, Gleason announced. Come on, Ann. He took his wife’s arm and pulled her down a hallway, then said over his shoulder, Cornelius, why don’t you start some coffee. And show Mr. Stubin in here when he arrives.

Yes, sir. Cornelius exited on quiet feet.

Kristol shook her head at her uncle’s tone. It didn’t take him long to start ordering the staff around. She’d never warmed to Gleason; he wasn’t a friendly man. She wondered what he’d thought when her mother had come along, a change-of-life baby, to unseat him as the youngest and usurp their parents’ attention. Somehow she was sure he hadn’t liked it, though he’d have to have been nearing his teens at the time. Kristol’s dad had privately called Gleason a snob, a self-important narcissist. Kristol’s mother never contradicted him; perhaps she shared his opinion.

Kristol felt that familiar ache of grief. Her mother and father had both died in an accident five years earlier, when Kristol was just twenty. The loss had been hard on everyone, but especially on Kristol’s grandmother. Victoria had taken to her bed for a solid two weeks before Janice threatened to have her committed if she didn’t get a grip on herself. The threat worked and Victoria had reentered her life, but she was a changed woman, diminished and prone to spells of gloom and despair.

The others trailed behind Gleason and Ann, settled themselves on leather sofas and chairs. The fireplace was empty and the large room was chill. Gleason set himself to the task, grumbling the whole time about Cornelius and how his service had slipped over the years. Ann nodded dumbly, as she usually did, in a noncommittal concurrence with her husband.

Well, what do you expect? Janice told her younger brother as she removed her jacket. He’s got to be at least ninety years old.

Gleason barked a laugh. Not quite, but close.

I wouldn’t have kept him on, Kevin Preston blustered, looking to Janice, his wife, for agreement. I don’t put up with anyone who can’t handle the job.

Yes, Janice said dryly. We all know what a perfectionist you are.

Kristol pondered the tension between Uncle Kevin and Aunt Janice. She rarely saw her aunts and uncles since she’d moved to Royal City after the deaths of her parents. Janice was rumored to have extramarital affairs, which Kevin for some reason ignored. It had been that way for years, so she doubted her aunt’s infidelity was the source of their current discord. Perhaps it was financial. She knew Kevin had made some poor business decisions and Janice’s real estate holdings had lost value. Today, they might find relief in that regard. Kristol’s grandmother had reputedly been quite wealthy, though she’d always been just plain ordinary Grandma to Kristol.

She looked over the people gathered for the reading of the will. Gleason stood beside his wife, a look of disdain on his handsome but hawkish face, a possessive hand resting on her shoulder. Ann Gray was a tall woman who walked with a stooped posture, as if she were trying to make herself smaller. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back into girlish clips and she wore jewelry too small for her frame: a thin gold necklace with a petite dangling pearl, tiny matching earrings. She huddled in a chair and kept an eye on Gleason, as if to take cues from him. They had no children.

Aunt Janice perched on the edge of the leather sofa and poked at her short dark hair. It was thickly highlighted, giving her a skunkish appearance. She was a squat, intense woman dressed in expensive clothes. She had a habit of tilting her head forward to peer over her half-glasses, worn low on her nose like a prim schoolmarm. The impression was deceiving, though, for there was a predatory feel about her, like she was just waiting for the right moment to jump forward and challenge anything anyone said. Janice’s husband, Kristol’s Uncle Kevin, slouched beside her, big and meaty, like a boy who never outgrew his awkward stage. His curly brown hair was cut short and was so thick it looked like a wig, though Kristol knew it was natural. He had brown eyes that protruded slightly and thin, arching brows. Now his forehead furrowed, as if his thoughts troubled him. Kevin and Janice had one son, Kristol’s cousin Jimmy, who was living in Japan. She hadn’t expected him to return for the service.

Janice leaned forward and murmured to Kristol, As tragic as it was to lose your mother, it’s probably good that she doesn’t have to endure this. Delilah was always so close to Mother. My sister did have such a tender nature. This would have been hard on her, God rest her soul.

Kristol said nothing. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing good about the deaths of her parents. Janice had a talent for thoughtlessness. Kristol let her eyes wander around the room.

Besides her aunts and uncles, there was her grandmother’s paid companion, Dora Whitter, a woman of about forty with a stocky build, thick features, and hard-working hands. She stared into her lap where her stubby fingers clutched the letter sent by the attorney. Her discomfort was obvious.

Kristol had received notice from the lawyer, too, as all of them probably had. When she’d opened the envelope, she had experienced a chill, almost a premonition, and it had unsettled her in her already grief-stricken state. She remembered the vibrant woman her grandmother had been, sassy and irreverent. But that had been when Kristol was still a teenager. That had been before Grandma lost her daughter, Delilah, Kristol’s mom.

A deep voice sounded in the hall. Let me get that door for you.

Cornelius entered the room with a tray containing a decanter and cups. Behind him stood a tall, blonde man Kristol remembered noticing at the funeral. He filled out his dark suit nicely with his muscular build and wide shoulders. He had surprisingly sensuous lips, a strong nose, and stormy sea-green eyes. His looks intrigued her. He wasn’t a beautiful man, or even handsome in the classic sense. Yet, he was attractive, striking even, and he exuded a magnetic presence.

He must be the lawyer, she thought, and wondered why he appeared so displeased. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to handle this business today, in this particular way. Gleason watched him walk in behind Cornelius and nodded. Almost perfunctorily, he said, Kristol, this is Derek Castle. Derek, my niece, Kristol Henderson.

A pleasure, Derek said quietly.

Likewise, Kristol responded. She didn’t rise to greet him and he didn’t approach her, but instead went to stand near the fireplace, detached from the rest of the group. The attorney’s name was Stubin, Kristol remembered, so who was Derek Castle and why was he here? The others didn’t seem surprised by his presence.

She couldn’t help sneaking another glance at him. With a jolt, she realized he was staring back at her. His gaze traveled smoothly, almost dispassionately, past her slender shoulders, over her rounded breasts under the dove gray sweater she wore, down her slim legs, and returned to meet her eyes. She flushed but couldn’t seem to look away, as if mesmerized. He broke contact when he stepped forward to take a cup of coffee. When he returned to his position, he turned to study the large painting over the mantle, his back to her.

Kristol swallowed hard and tried to shove aside the impact of this stranger. This was made easier by the sadness that blanketed her.

A booming voice sounded from somewhere in the mansion and Janice sat up straight, a look of pleasure on her face. A moment later, Kristol’s cousin, Jimmy, burst into the room.

Janice launched herself into his arms. You finally made it! Oh, sweetie, I’m so glad you’re here.

Better late than never, Kevin said as Jimmy disentangled himself from his mother’s arms and turned to face his father. Jimmy had filled out and gotten taller in the years since Kristol had last seen him, taking after his dad in appearance and size.

Did the best I could, Dad, Jimmy said as Kevin gave him a stiff hug. My flight was delayed and I had to rent a vehicle.

It’s always something with you, isn’t it? Kevin patted Jimmy sharply on the cheek, a playful slap.

If you say so. Jimmy shook his head ruefully. He briefly pressed Gleason’s hand, kissed Ann on the cheek, and then turned to Kristol. Is this little Krissy? My god! You’re all grown up. You look gorgeous! He pulled Kristol to her feet and enclosed her in a warm hug. He smelled slightly of sweat, heavy cologne, and cherry-menthol cough drops. It’s been too long.

Hi, Jimmy, she said as she drew back. He’d certainly changed. As kids, they’d never gotten along very well. Jimmy had been a skinny youth with a sardonic sneer and a selfish streak, plagued by acne and burdened with an inflated ego. Time had evidently worked magic on him; he was much more cordial than he used to be. She forgave his body odor, realizing he’d had a long flight with little opportunity to clean up. The cough drops were evidence his lifelong allergies were acting up. He had always eaten them like candy, claiming they helped relieve his congestion. She felt a rush of sympathy toward him. It’s nice to see you again.

"It’s great to see you. Wish it could be under better circumstances."

Kristol nodded in sad agreement.

It doesn’t look very good, you not being at the funeral, Gleason said with a sniff. What will people think?

What people, Uncle Glee?

Everyone.

Everyone in the world? There was a twinkle in Jimmy’s eye.

Sit down and stop baiting your uncle. Kevin paced back and forth. Where is that damn lawyer? This is ridiculous. I’m going to be as old as Cornelius by the time we get this done. What’s taking so long?

Jimmy flopped into a chair and loosened his tie. His broad face held a look of patient indulgence for his father’s dramatics. His eyes traveled to Derek who stepped forward and held out his hand. Derek Castle, friend of your grandmother’s, he said as they shook.

Kevin expelled an exasperated sigh and strode over to the door, stuck his head out, and made a point of looking up and down the hall.

Settle down, dear, Janice said. All this stress doesn’t hurry the process and you’re starting to get on my nerves.

Well, I don’t like the way this is panning out. It’s damned inconvenient. Kevin marched back into the room, lowered his large body onto a settee that appeared almost too delicate to hold him, and crossed one meaty leg over the other.

I believe it was Victoria herself who requested the reading of the will be here, Derek said quietly. We should honor her wishes.

I couldn’t agree more, Jimmy said mildly. It was her call.

Did you know my grandmother well, Mr. Castle? Kristol asked. Her question seemed to pique the curiosity of others in the room and they stared at him expectantly.

Well enough, Derek replied. We spent considerable time together.

That’s interesting, Janice said. I didn’t realize the two of you were close. She studied the young man as if wondering how he might benefit from Victoria’s death.

From the front of the house, the large brass knocker resounded. No one said anything until Cornelius led a gray haired man in a business suit into the room. His wide plain face broke into a quick smile. I apologize for the delay; it couldn’t be helped. I’m Bentley Stubin, Mrs. Gray’s attorney. He put a hand on the servant’s arm. Please stay, Mr. Thorne.

Quickly, Janice jumped in to introduce everyone.

Mr. Stubin settled on the sofa and placed a slim briefcase on the coffee table. Opening it, he extracted some documents.

At the sight of the paperwork, Janice’s expression shifted from one of annoyance to a look of avaricious anticipation. She scooted a little closer to the attorney and made a subtle effort to peer over his shoulder.

It was no secret to Kristol that her aunt fawned over men, and she was surprised that Janice would be this open about her admiration with Uncle Kevin so close at hand. But Kevin didn’t seem to notice; he, too, was watching Mr. Stubin with predatory zeal. Jimmy, however, seemed to disapprove of his mother’s obvious flirtations. A pained look crossed his face, but he quickly rearranged his features to hide it. Kristol pretended not to notice.

She found her gaze drawn once more to the captivating face of Derek Castle. She received a small shock when she discovered his green eyes fixed on her. She could imagine what it would be like to get close to the man. In tight quarters, his magnetism would be dizzying, she speculated. But she shoved aside her musing and focused instead on Bentley Stubin.

Before the attorney had a chance to gather his thoughts, Kevin pressed him. Who is the executor of the will? It should’ve been my wife. She’s the daughter.

Gleason cleared his throat loudly. And I’m the son. Don’t forget that, Preston.

Right, right. Kevin waved his chunky hand dismissively. Anyway, it should’ve been one of Victoria’s kids. So, what’s the deal? Who’d the old lady pick?

Mr. Stubin raised his silver eyebrows elegantly. Mrs. Gray chose Derek Castle as her executor.

Several gasps followed this announcement. Kristol thought she heard Jimmy chuckle and she shot a look in his direction, but he stared at the floor as if suddenly fascinated by the pattern of the carpet.

But he’s not family, Janice sputtered. Is that even legal? She shot a suspicious look at Derek. His face remained impassive.

Certainly. It’s completely legal and more common than one might believe. Now, if there are no further questions, I’d like to begin. The will is quite straightforward. Mr. Stubin pulled reading glasses from an inside pocket of his suit and put them on. After reciting the usual legalese, he delved into the bequests. Besides generous donations to the local animal shelter, a Victorian-era museum, and several veterans’ organizations, tidy sums were left to Cornelius Thorne, whom she referred to as loyal servant and family friend, and to her companion, Dora Whitter, compassionate angel, most merciful.

Dora burst into tears and Cornelius Thorne’s expression was one of shocked gratitude.

Mr. Stubin continued, ‘To my faithful friend and executor, Derek Castle, I leave the sum of fifty thousand dollars.’

Gleason, Ann, Kevin, and Janice all turned amazed eyes on Derek. It was clear they resented the bequest. Derek remained unruffled, however, and returned their outraged gazes with a cool one of his own. Kevin’s mouth worked soundlessly, as if he wanted desperately to object but couldn’t find the words. Jimmy sniffed but said nothing.

Though she didn’t begrudge Derek his inheritance, Kristol was curious about his relationship with her grandmother. She couldn’t recall her grandma ever talking about him. She was pulled from her reverie when her name was called.

Ms. Henderson? the lawyer raised a quizzical brow.

Yes? Kristol responded quietly. She heard the rustle of fabric as her aunts and uncles shifted positions. She could feel them watching her, and she sensed their discomfort. The air filled with an almost painful anticipation.

Mr. Stubin glanced at her and then read, ‘To my darling granddaughter, Kristol Henderson, I leave my collection of six antique phonographs, along with replacement parts, records, and wax cylinders. In addition, I leave her the sum of twenty thousand dollars.’

A collective sigh passed around the room. If the aunts and uncles feared Kristol would take the lion’s share of Victoria’s estate, they were now much relieved.

Those dusty old antiques! Ann murmured. What a shame, honey. Whatever will you do with them?

Kristol couldn’t hide her surprise. Why, I’ll cherish them. That’s what I’ll do.

They’re not worth all that much, you know, Janice said with a sniff. And they’re so bulky and heavy. Completely obsolete. I never approved of those things, anyway. I told Mother a thousand times she should get a modern device if she wanted to listen to music. But, as usual, she ignored my advice. Now poor Kristol is stuck with them.

Let’s not look at it that way, Kevin hurried to quiet his wife. It’s the thought that counts, after all. As long as Kristol’s happy with her inheritance, that’s what matters. Right, dear? He turned placating eyes on his niece.

Of course, Kristol said. "And I am happy about it. Grandma knew how much I love those old machines. I’m so glad she left them to me."

So are we all, Gleason said dryly. Now, let’s get on with it, please, Mr. Stubin. Did the old woman leave anything else to Kristol?

"No, that’s