Lost and Found by Jayne Ann Krentz Read Free Book Online Page A

Chatelaine’s.
    She turned slowly, breathing deeply of the atmosphere of the chamber. There was comfort to be found in the immutable past: a realm that remained frozen and locked in time, a world that could be visited again and again in memory and in dreams. She savored the cold fire of the glittering, polished works of art arrayed before her. Beautiful damascene chests from the sixteenth century; elegant seventeenth-century jewelry cases; gilded toilet setsthat had once decorated the boudoirs of eighteenth-century ladies and courtesans; exquisitely carved writing cabinets from the early eighteen hundreds. Each had been crafted to hold secrets and precious objects. All were fitted with locks.
    She walked slowly across the room and stopped at the little spiral staircase. It led to a narrow balcony that encircled the chamber at the midway point. She put her hand on the polished rail and thought about the quarrel with Sylvia. It had not been pleasant. Perhaps she should have explained her decision to postpone the merger vote to her niece. Sylvia was the CEO of Gallery Chatelaine, after all.
    But she wanted to be certain, Vesta thought. There was so much at stake. And in the end, the simple fact was that she did not have to explain anything. Not yet. Sylvia had assumed the day-to-day operations of Chatelaine’s, but they both knew that even though she had been forced to retreat into semiretirement, the founder of Chatelaine’s still controlled the shares that determined the fate of the gallery.
    She knew what the rest of the family was saying behind her back. The business with the psychic had been the last straw for Sylvia. Vesta smiled grimly. Long ago she had been labeled eccentric. Now they would wonder if dementia had set in.
    The expression on her niece’s face when she had confronted her about her appointments with Jonathan Arden had been almost amusing. The rest of the family would soon be buzzing with the news that Great-aunt Vesta had finally lost it completely. But they would keep quiet about it, she thought. Oh, yes, they would go to great lengths to conceal the information. None of them would want to risk having the news leaked to the art world. That sort of gossip would not only be professionally embarrassing, it would be bad for business.
    She gazed at a beautiful ornamental gold box on anearby shelf and wondered what Cady would say when they told her about the visits to the psychic.
    Cady was not like the others. Cady understood her. That was because they were so much alike in so many ways. Cady wouldn’t leap to the conclusion that she had lost her grip on reality. Cady would ask questions first. Cady would look beneath the surface. It was her nature.
    Vesta put a hand to her waist and removed the magnificent piece of ancient jewelry known as the Nun’s Chatelaine. She had worn it to the Carnival Night committee meeting earlier that evening. Eleanor Middleton’s boundless enthusiasm for her duties as chair of the annual Phantom Point community event was admirable but tiresome. Still, it was important for Gallery Chatelaine to be represented on the committee. And given her
semiretirement
status, Vesta thought, she had no excuse for sticking someone else in the family with the task of volunteering for the committee work. She had never shirked her responsibility to Chatelaine’s.
    For a moment she studied the old chatelaine in the light of a nearby lamp. The heavily carved medallion in the center glowed with the rich luster of very old gold. The stones that encircled it still shimmered with ancient radiance. The five gold-link chains spilled through her fingers. Small gold keys set with gemstones were attached to four of the chains. No key dangled from the fifth chain.
    She had discovered the Nun’s Chatelaine shortly before she had opened the gallery. It had turned up in a heap of costume jewelry in an estate sale she had attended; a masterpiece concealed by a mound of worthless plastic, glass stones and