Free Murder by the Spoonful: An Antique Hunters Mystery by Vicki Vass Page B

stop it.”
    “You tried. I wouldn’t listen.”
    Anne smiled, her whole face lit up. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
    They walked back into the conference room. Suzanne sat next to Anne across from Jack. Suzanne was wearing the diamond and emerald Viking Queen’s brooch that Sybil was supposed to be wearing in her casket.
    Jack stared, angry and confused at the same time. “What’s going on here?”
    Mr. Berman said, “Part of Sybil Hillstrom’s last wishes were that Anne be her executor. As executor, she has the power to decide who receives her most valuable possession––the Viking brooch.”
    “She was buried in that brooch. I saw her at the cemetery wearing the damn brooch in her coffin,” Jack said.
    “Sybil wanted all her loved ones to believe that she was taking the brooch with her,” Anne said. “Her exact words in the will are, ‘the brooch should go to the one who wants it the least, but who deserves it the most.’ I believe Suzanne deserves it the most and now she has it.”
    “The rest of the antiques were sold at her estate sale. The proceeds will go to the Field Museum.” Mr. Berman reached into the accordion file and pulled out some papers. “Suzanne, I need your signature on these.” He passed the papers to her along with a black fountain pen.
    “What are these?” Suzanne asked, skimming through the legal jargon.
    “The will stipulates that the owner of the brooch also receives the deed to the house and a monthly allowance of $4,000 for maintenance.” He read from the will in front of him.
    “My name’s on the deed already?” Suzanne said. “Why?”
    “I knew the minute that Mr. Berman told me about Sybil’s wishes and the wording in the will, just who deserved the brooch and the house,” Anne said. “Your children should have the same memories that you and I have playing in that house.”
    “Damn, that’s what I’m talking about,” Jack said. “Finally, something that makes sense. Suzy, everything’s going to be okay now.”
    “Yes, me and kids will be okay.” Suzanne stared him right in the eye.
    “What do you mean? Me and the kids?”
    “We’re moving into the house. You’re not. I’m done with you.” She turned to Mr. Berman. “Do you know a good divorce attorney?”             
    Jack jumped up again and tried to reach for his wife across the table. Uncle Dick held him back. “This isn’t over!” Jack screamed. He glared at Anne, his bulging eyes about to pop out of his face, his biceps pushing against Uncle Dick. “This is all your fault, Anne! This isn’t over!”

Chapter Sixteen
     
    Saturday morning, CC’s phone rang, rousing her from her sleep. The train whistle faded into the strident ringing of the phone. “Hello, Ms. Muller? CC? It’s Helen Bradley from the Daily Star ,” the voice on the other end said.
    CC cleared her foggy head and sat up. “Yes, Helen, how are you?”
    “Sounds like I woke you. I’m sorry.”
    “No, it’s all right.”
    “Just wanted to let you know we spoke with Mr. Talcott. This guy is a piece of work. When we confronted him, he admitted he might have made a mistake. He returned Ida’s money and took the bears off the shelf. He didn’t want any bad publicity.”
    “That’s great news. Thank you,” CC said and they hung up.
    In small towns, word of mouth spreads quickly. Ida had told everyone she met about how Anne and CC had helped her with the bear. When CC blogged about the trip to Michigan, she received over 40 comments––the most she’d ever had in one day. Some were about Ida and the article about Talcott’s collections, but even more were from people asking her to either authenticate or find something for them. CC scribbled notes on the pad she kept next to her computer.
    Scanning the listings on estatesales.net, CC saw one promising listing that might be worth their time. She picked up the phone to call Anne.
    Recognizing the number on her caller ID, Anne answered, “Hi,