Bobbi Smith by Heaven Read Free Book Online Page A

possessions. They held nothing of value but money. Thinking of his sons and their greed brought on chest pain, and he fought against it. “Perhaps you’re right . . .”
    Enoch could see how pale his friend had become. “Are you feeling all right?”
    “I suppose I’m a little tired, that’s all.” Lawrence tried to shrug off his concern, but the weight pressing on his chest would not ease.
    “We’ve waited this long, another day isn’t going to matter. Shall we talk tomorrow?”
    “Tomorrow will be fine. Let’s meet in the evening, shall we? Say, seven o’clock?”
    “I’ll be here.” Enoch stood to go, but there was one question that he could not wait to ask. “Tell me this before I go—is the crown as beautiful as the legend claims?”
    “More so,” he confided, his eyes shining as he remembered the first time he’d seen the Crown of Desire.
    “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
    Lawrence saw him out, then went straight upstairs to his bedroom. He was feeling terrible, and he desperately hoped his medicine would help.
    As was his custom, Henry had placed the bottle and a spoon on the nightstand. Lawrence sat down on the bed, poured himself a double dose, and swallowed with a grimace. He wondered why the medicine seemed to taste more bitter than usual tonight, but he dismissed it as his imagination or perhaps an aftertaste from the liquor. He told himself that maybe if it tasted worse it would work better and ease the terrible tightness in his chest.
    Lawrence barely had time to undress and put on his nightshirt when the vicious, searing pain struck and his hands began to shake uncontrollably. He clasped them together, trying to still them, but there was no stopping the violent tremors. He stared down at his hands in amazement. He’d known his heart was bad, but he’d never thought a really serious attack would feel like this . . .
    He lifted his gaze to the medicine bottle then, and suddenly his expression changed . . . hardened. Philip . . . Robert . . . Would they have? Could they have? The agony that suddenly screamed through every fiber of his being was his answer. Poison . . .
    Lawrence could feel his throat constricting and suddenly he was struggling to breathe. He began to tremble uncontrollably and knew he needed help. Desperate to summon Henry, he frantically tried to reach the bellpull, but his legs would no longer support him and he fell to his knees. The silken cord was his lifeline, but even as his hand groped for it, a convulsion wracked his body and he collapsed on the floor. Lawrence tried to cry for help, but his pain was so great that it strangled him.
    Darkness closed in on him. As Lawrence succumbed to the potent poison, his last thoughts were of the crown and how right he’d been about his sons. The only peace he knew as he surrendered to death’s dominion was that he was glad he’d changed his will. He’d seen to it that they would never get their hands on the Crown of Desire. All their plotting and murder had been for nothing . . .

Three
    Henry knocked on Mr. Anthony’s bedroom door early the next morning. When there was no immediate response, he knocked a second time, then opened the door just enough so he could look in. He was prepared to find Mr. Anthony asleep, and then quietly leave him to rest a little longer, but instead, on looking in he found his beloved employer sprawled on the floor.
    “Mr. Anthony!” His cry was hoarse with fear as he rushed to his aid. Henry grasped his hand, but it was cold to the touch, telling him all he needed to know.
    Since the day Lawrence had instructed him about the disposition of the books, Henry, had suspected that his health was not good, but he’d had no idea that he was deathly ill. He rang for help, then drew a blanket over the lifeless form. Penny, one of the maids, was nearby and she was the first to respond to his call. He quickly ordered her to send for the doctor. Martin appeared only moments later.
    “What is it?”