Free The Marsh Madness by Victoria Abbott

creature who had helped host us. But what did that matter? Lisa was a popular name. Lots of people don’t have much of an Internet presence. For instance, my relatives were very careful to avoid it, and the rest of us should be grateful for that.
    Back to Chadwick. But there was something strange there too. When I searched for images of the dead heir, Chadwick’sheavy-lidded image never came up. Not even once. I could understand how Lisa and my uncles could avoid the spotlight, but the heir of the famous Magnus Kauffman and the man behind the success of the Country Club and Spa should show up somewhere. He didn’t seek media attention, but he had been running a business and he must have been caught on camera somewhere, at something. Another man, reddish-blond and stocky, appeared over and over, smiling shyly and never quite gazing at the camera. Must have been someone else with the same name. There were sure to be other Chadwick Kauffmans out there somewhere. Right now I had bigger issues to worry about.
    I was sorry that Chadwick Kauffman died a horrible death, but we were done with the Kauffman family. If they’d had any more mint-condition mysteries up for grabs, that would be different, but there was only the Marsh collection. The books in the Manhattan residence were lost to Vera’s library.
    *   *   *
    FROM THE TIME I was a child, police at the door has been a bad thing and beloved uncles would vanish like fog through cleverly disguised staircases or leap out of windows. I believe this attitude has left me with a furtive look when police show up, and that’s something I am trying to deal with.
    As the cars rolled down the long driveway to Van Alst House, Vera and I were sitting in the conservatory, about to eat lunch and having a surprisingly heated discussion over whether the Marsh collection might be displayed outside the library for a while to celebrate its arrival and show it off. It wasn’t my collection of fine first editions. It wasn’t my secure and environmentally appropriate library either.
    Vera was winning. But mostly she was arguing with herself. I was doing my best not to get on the wrong side of either argument. I’d managed to move my head in a way that could have been a nod “yes” or a nod “no” after each of Vera’s points.
    “And what if there was a fire?” Vera growled. “Or moths?”
    Speaking of moths, the signora fluttered in with a large plate of panini stuffed with prosciutto and provolone cheese.
    “Who’s this coming?” Vera said.
    Kev glanced out the window and stood up, a panini in each hand. I passed him a couple of napkins, and he stepped out in the direction of the back door.
    “Police?” As I’ve said many times, we’re not much for the police in our family, if you leave out Officer Tyler “Smiley” Dekker. Of course, I was very much in favor of Smiley, even if the rest of the family was less than enthusiastic. But at Van Alst House, Vera still holds to the belief that the police are the good guys, there to help the solid citizens of Harrison Falls. So the arrival of this long black sedan and a cruiser sent my heart racing. There was no reason for it. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I rarely do anything wrong, and if I do, it’s because there’s no other choice and someone’s life is in danger. I’m just saying there are some gray areas.
    “What do the police want?” Vera growled.
    It takes a while to get used to Vera’s gravelly voice, but I’d had time. “No idea,” I said, calmly. I was proud of myself. All my recent interactions with the police were paying off. My heart might have been thumping, but my voice was steady and so were my hands, and that was what mattered. “I’ll find out.”
    The signora put her plate of panini on the table and made the sign of the cross.
    I am tasked with answering doors in Van Alst House. Vera rarely condescends to. The signora gets too worked up, and Kev, well, anything could happen. At any rate, as these