Second Sight by Amanda Quick Read Free Book Online

of will. “I don’t know.”
    Beatrice frowned at her through her spectacles. “Are you all right, dear?”
    “No,” Venetia said. “I am in a state of shock.”
    “Get ahold of yourself, dear,” Beatrice said. Her round face crinkled with concern and a hint of reproof. “True, it is a bit of a jolt to lose a wealthy, exclusive client. But you were only acquainted with the gentleman for a few days. And he did pay in advance.”
    Venetia folded the paper with great care. Her fingers were shaking.
    “Thank you, Aunt Beatrice,” she said quietly. “As always, you do have a way of putting matters into perspective.”
    Beatrice had come to live with Venetia’s family upon her retirement as a governess and had immediately devoted herself to an endless series of artistic endeavors. She had been in the household when Venetia, Amelia and Edward had gotten word of the terrible train wreck that had taken the lives of their parents. Beatrice’s presence had steadied them all through the tragedy and the financial disaster that followed.
    “You never said that you developed some strong feelings for Mr. Jones,” Amelia exclaimed, eyes widening. “You were only in his company for a few days, not quite a week. You assured us that he had been a complete gentleman.”
    Venetia elected not to respond to that.
    “From what you have told us,” Beatrice said, “those two servants mentioned in the newspaper account were correct. Mr. Jones appears to have been secretive to the point of eccentricity.”
    “I would not employ the term
eccentric
to refer to him,” Venetia said.
    Edward looked interested at that. “What term would you use?”
    “Extraordinary. Intriguing.” Venetia paused, searching her brain. “Compelling. Mysterious. Fascinating.”
    It was only when she saw the startled expressions on the faces of the others that she realized how much she had revealed.
    “Really, dear.” Beatrice’s voice sharpened with unease. “You make Mr. Jones sound like one of those odd relics that you say you photographed in his museum.”
    Edward reached for the jam. “Was Mr. Jones covered with unreadable inscriptions and cloaked in inscrutable codes like the antiquities you described?”
    “In a manner of speaking, yes,” Venetia said. She seized the coffeepot, which stood next to the teapot. She greatly preferred tea but when she felt anxious or uneasy, she drank coffee on the theory that it would fortify her nerves. “He was certainly a man of mystery.”
    Amelia frowned. “I can see you are upset by this news but Aunt Beatrice is correct. Do keep in mind that Mr. Jones was only a client, Venetia.”
    “That may be true, but I will tell you this much,” Venetia said, pouring coffee into her cup. “If he truly is dead, it is most likely because he was murdered, not because he was the victim of an accident. I told you about the two intruders who were trying to enter the house the night I left. I suspect they were responsible for the fire and, quite likely, for the death of Mr. Jones. There ought to be a thorough investigation.”
    Beatrice hesitated. “There was nothing about intruders mentioned in that news account, only a fire and a fatal accident involving an antiquity. Are you quite certain that the two people you saw in the woods that night were burglars?”
    “They were certainly bent on mischief, I can tell you that much,” Venetia said quietly. “What is more, Mr. Jones concluded the same thing. In fact, he was even more concerned about those men than I was. That is why he insisted I be escorted off the premises via the secret tunnel.”
    Edward munched his toast. “I would like to have seen that tunnel.”
    Everyone ignored him.
    Beatrice looked thoughtful. “Surely the local authorities would have conducted proper inquiries if there had been any indication of violence or burglary.”
    Venetia absently stirred cream into her coffee. “I don’t understand why there was no mention of the intruders in the