The Treasure of Leuven

By Gloria Fifield

There's a secret in Melissa's family, one that has been kept far too long. It's a hidden treasure. Men have died for it, others will gladly kill for it. Her grandfather's bequest from beyond the grave sends her on a mission to remove a generations-old blood-stained curse on her family. She is to be their conscience by making right an ancient wrong. The big question is, can she fulfill her task before becoming a victim of the murderous greed surrounding this unknown treasure? Follow along with the clues as Melissa hunts for the unknown treasure, while attempting to evade those that would kill her for it, even though no one knows exactly what the treasure is, or where it's hidden. Grandfather didn't leave her details, just clues that only someone used to unearthing long lost information on museum treasures could decipher, lest the wrong person find the clues. Who killed the Homeland agent? What is her uncle mixed up in? What is her father trying to hide? More mysteries compound the problem of finding the treasure. Who can she really trust? Her boss and lover? Her father? Surely not anyone else in this dysfunctional family? She is sure her much hated step mother is up to no good, but what to do about it? Can she trust even her mother with the legacy Grandfather left at her feet? Where did the treasure come from? What is it? Why wasn't it sold long ago? Too many questions, not enough answers on her quest to set to rights the evil that was done long ago.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gloria Fifield
• Release date: Oct 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311701534

Gloria Fifield

I've always loved books. Even as a kid, that was my favorite pastime, escaping into the fantasy world of whatever book I was reading. Sorry to say, I started writing a bit late in life, but once I started, I couldn't stop. So far, I've tried writing what is sometimes called chic lit, family sagas, mystery, and sci-fi. My latest, is a real epic tale that is a historical fiction novel. Now, that was a challenge. I tackled it because my late partner was fond of telling me not to sell myself short. He said that if my mind could think it, I could write it and he was so right. At the moment, I'm living in sunny Florida with my two feline companions and enjoying working on a brand new collaboration with my brother Dean Fifield (who is also a writer.) Hopefully, we'll be presenting it to you for your reading pleasure real soon.

Book preview

Prologue

August 25, 1914

Near Leuven, Belgium

The latest blast from the shelling shook the very foundations of both the library and their faith. Hurry, Charles! The shells are getting too close! Father Charles hastily finished wrapping the last of his precious manuscripts then placed it carefully in the chest with the others. With a heavy heart, he took one last look around. He knew he would never see this library and it's many treasures again, though he prayed fervently that was wrong.

They could hear the shells falling on the town, coming closer every second. The high pitched wails of incoming artillery shells couldn't drown out the screams of fear. Explosions assaulted the ears as noxious fumes of burning sulfur stung their eyes. As the fumes thickened, breathing became labored.

Father Charles and Father Frances shoved the one chest they had time to rescue onto the cart. Their gardener, Franz, anxiously waited for them to finish. He too, could hear shells exploding in what was left of Leuven. He called out over the din, We're out of time, let's go!

We're ready, Franz! Go! cried the frightened priest as a shell exploded not far from them. There was no need to urge the poor man to let his terrified horse gallop straight for the forest. It was a battle to hold the gelding back as long as he did.

The plan had been to save what they could by hiding it until it could be smuggled out to England. The priest thought it better for the treasures to be on foreign soil than stolen, or worse yet, destroyed. Unfortunately, they'd realized the danger too late. This one chest was all they had time to save.

The scream of another shell ripped through the sky overhead. It missed them, exploding just beyond. Franz whipped at his frenzied horse again out of fear, though the horse needed no such incentive. He saw the edge of the woods within reach ... maybe they'd be safe. Franz never heard nor felt the explosion that ripped his horse apart. The blast left him lying mangled and unconscious in the mud. He never saw the two priests being shot, or their treasures being carted away by German soldiers that caught up with them. In fact, Franz and the two priestly librarians never saw anything again.

Chapter 1

Present Day,

Long Island,

New York, USA

It was eerily quiet now that the mourners were all gone. The old mansion still imposed itself on the landscape, a monumental testament to one man's determination to show the world he'd made it. Heinrich Younger came a long way from his humble beginnings. No one dared call him the son of an ignorant immigrant any longer, not even in death.

Heinrich grew up on this estate because his father worked for the original owners. As one of the largest mansions on Long Island, it was a grand prize Heinrich felt driven to acquire. The day he took ownership, he finally felt he had the last laugh on those that once taunted him. He accumulated wealth and power, but this relic from the time of the great robber barons symbolized what he wanted most, respect.

Melissa Younger sat alone at her grandfather's desk and stared at the manila envelope the old man's lawyer gave her that afternoon. She was almost afraid of what it might contain, especially after receiving a cryptic message from Derik about not trusting anyone, especially his father.

Melissa always felt uneasy around her Uncle Walter, more so now than ever. There were even rumors he was somehow involved in the death of his own brother. So far as anyone could determine, that's all they were, rumors. Still, Melissa wasn't so sure. Lack of evidence didn't mean he wasn't involved, it only meant they couldn't prove otherwise. Besides all that, Walter was always the sort of person that people are naturally suspicious of, with or without good reason.

Melissa wondered if the envelope she received from Heinrich's lawyer had anything to do with the treasure he'd sometimes alluded to. He often referred rather cryptically to some sort of treasure hidden on the family's property. Rumors concerning this supposed treasure ranged widely, from it being gold or jewels, to it being some terrible secret that could destroy the family. No one knew for sure whether it was real, or only a old man's wild tales.

She didn't have to wonder why this envelope with whatever secrets it contained was delivered to her and not her father. He and her grandfather had a falling out years ago when he divorced Melissa's mother in favor of a much younger woman. That rift never healed. Whatever this letter contains, it seems I'm the one Grandfather chose to deal with it.

Well, Grandfather, what is it you've left me? I guess there's only one way to find out. She sighed softly as she carefully opened the envelope. Melissa read the hand written letter it contained, carefully searching for every nuance of meaning.

"Dearest Lissa,

For many years, I have been the keeper of a secret passed down to me by my father, Wilhelm. He brought it with him when he came to this country long before I was born. It's time that secret was put to rest. I know I can trust you to be our family's conscience.

Your father has shown me he isn't to be entrusted with this task, and Walter is, well, Walter. So, you can see I have little choice but to leave it up to you. This map will show you where to find the secret treasure I now pass on to you to do with as you feel you must, whatever that may be. I trust you'll find a way to make things right.

Melissa could hardly believe what she just read. So, there really is a treasure hidden somewhere, but where? She looked inside the envelope again and found a hand-drawn map on an old yellowed sheet of paper. It looks sort of like the old estate where I grew up, and yet not. She took a closer look and saw something marked in red in the wooded area behind the main house. Melissa remembered that being the location of her mother's a art studio. When she was little she sometimes watched her mother paint there.

Her heart was racing now. Could it be, it's been hidden right in plain sight all this time? No, that would be too simple. One thing you never were Gramps, was simple. Maybe I need to go there to find another clue. That's more like the grandfather I remember. He wouldn't keep a secret this long only to let it be found so easily.

She wondered for the millionth time what it could possibly be. Is it jewels as some say? Is it gold bars like Derik thinks? Is it something else entirely? Could it be something so terrible Gramps felt he had to keep it to himself in order to protect us?

Melissa put the letter and the drawing back in the envelope then re-sealed it as before. Whatever this big secret was, Melissa surmised it would be prudent to keep it to herself for the time being. Her grandfather hadn't trusted his own sons with this knowledge. He didn't entrust it to her cousin Derik either, only her. For the most part, she considered Heinrich to be a wise judge of character. Yes, it's a good idea not to let the others know … not just yet, if ever. She put the envelope in her purse for safe keeping.

Melissa planned to visit her father this coming weekend anyway, but this letter made her consider going sooner. They'll just think I'm upset about Grandfather's passing, nothing more.

Chapter 2

No matter how much time passed, Walter would always be the youngest of three brothers. Melissa's father, Karl, would be the oldest. The middle brother, Heinrich Jr. was the favored son. He was sent to all the right schools, trained to do all the right things and do them well. It was obvious he was being groomed to take over the family businesses when the old man could be dragged away from the throne of his mighty empire.

Some said the accident that killed him last year was a little too convenient to be only an accident. However, nothing was ever proven in the investigation that followed. The official verdict was that he drank a little too much and was driving too fast for the conditions on the road. Some still wondered if that was the truth, including some in the family. I'll always be a suspect in their eyes.

Walter is now poised as heir apparent … least ways until the lawyers get done reading the will. He fervently hoped there would be no surprises there. I never was close to Father, but since the falling out with Karl, and Heinrich's demise, there isn't anyone else, or is there?

Walter saw the exchange that took place after the funeral between his father's lawyer and his niece. He couldn't be sure his old man didn't try some fast shuffling of the family fortunes with a last minute change or two to his will. It would be just like that stupid old fool try something like that. Walter tossed back another shot of first class bourbon in his father's library. He mumbled drunkenly into the freshly emptied glass, Well, he won't get away with it. Not this time, not if I have anything to say about it, and I damn sure will. Walter chuckled at his use of the word will. He thought it was a clever pun. He always thought he was clever, though no one else did.

Chapter 3

Melissa tried to call her boss at the Long Island Museum of Cultural History to let him know she wouldn't be back for a few more days. She had a feeling this business with her grandfather's legacy would take at least that long. Even though she was the assistant curator, she couldn't just disappear from her job for that long without letting anyone know.

She smiled, thinking of Alex Longevin. He was more than just her boss, he was a good friend, though she hoped for much more. Exactly what, she wasn't sure yet. Melissa would like him to be more than just a boyfriend. Their relationship was developing, but too slowly to suit her. Progress was difficult since they felt they must keep things on a professional level at work. When they were alone, she thought she saw more, but wasn't sure.

When Melissa got no answer, she left a quick message telling him she was going to her father's house and that she would try to call again later. I really wanted to talk to him, but I guess I'll have to wait.

Although Melissa planned to stay at her grandfather's mansion until the weekend, she now realized it would be safer if she didn't. Instead, she went to her apartment in town to pack a few things. I'll just go Dad's a little early to stay through the weekend. Better there with an enemy I know all too well, than here not knowing who I can trust or who constitutes a danger. Besides, it wouldn't hurt one bit if I could lay to rest this so-called legacy Grandfather dumped in my lap.

Packing took only a few minutes since she didn't plan on staying very long. Melissa detested the thought of having to play nice with her hated step-mother and didn't intend to do so any longer than absolutely necessary. I'll stay only as long as it takes to investigate the drawing inside the envelope with the letter the lawyer gave her. If the step-witch doesn't get in the way, that won't take long. Concerned only with what this dubious treasure could possibly be, she never noticed the vehicle that shadowed her all the way from her apartment to her father's estate.

Chapter 4

Karl! Didn't you say that Lissa wasn't coming until the weekend?

Karl winced at the sound of her voice. Marla's voice grated on his nerves every time she opened her mouth. Without bothering to look up from his newspaper, he answered casually, That's what she told me at the funeral.

Well, something must have changed her mind. Marla was fairly certain she knew the reason, but wasn't about to to let on. Gathering her composure, she opened the front door just as Melissa was coming up the steps, Lissa, what a nice surprise! We didn't expect to see you until Saturday. Come in, come in. Marla stepped aside to allow her to pass but made no move to take her bag. She figured Melissa could damn well carry her own bag. Although the smile on her face was well practiced, Melissa knew it was just as phony as the bitch that wore it.

It took all of Melissa's willpower not to slap that smile right off and pretend to be nice. Why, thank you, Marla. Is my father here? Melissa knew very well her dad was there since he told her he was going straight home when they spoke at the funeral earlier that day. It would make her little charade more believable to Marla if she was seen crying on her dad's broad shoulders.

Sure, honey. He's in the library with his paper. You know how he is with his paper. She didn't say as much, but that's where Karl usually was when he was avoiding her these days. Why don't you just go on in. You can take care of this later. She indicated the bag Melissa still carried.

"Don't worry, Marla, I'll just take this with me, if you don't mind." She tried to make her voice sound pleasant, but with years of practice at being obnoxious to this other woman, being nasty to her was a habit hard to break. The venom dripping from her voice was thinly veiled at best. Marla noted nothing changed in Melissa's attitude towards her. She wouldn't say so, but her phony smile began to deteriorate.

Melissa ignored her as she swept past, accidentally nailing Marla's thigh with the corner of her bag. She grinned at Marla's yelp of pain as she marched down the hall to her father's library. She called back an I'm sorry that clearly meant exactly the opposite.

Melissa set her overnight bag down as she stepped quietly into the library. Daddy ... I know I told you not to expect me until the weekend, but I didn't feel right being at Granddad's with only Uncle Walter there. I hope you don't mind. Her smile was genuine now, but directed only at her father.

The loss she felt from her grandfather's passing was no pretense. As a little girl, her dad was the one she turned to when she was hurt or upset. As much as she loved her mother, it was her father that could always make the hurt go away.

Melissa tried to stay angry with him after the divorce, but couldn't. She eventually realized her father was just another middle-aged victim of a young fortune seeking tramp. Marla was simply a short term fever in his blood that soon burned itself out. Karl resigned himself to the consequences of his short-sightedness. He wasn't about to squander what remained of his daughter's inheritance on a divorce so he could be rid of Marla. Thoughts of doing away with her in a manner other than divorce often crossed his mind. Although he wasn't a man to act on such ideas, they were fun to entertain.

"Of course, we don't mind, Sweetie. You're always welcome. Isn't that right, Marla?" Karl gave her the look, to let her know she'd better agree with him ... or else.

Of course, Karl. Lissa's always welcome here. She's family. Marla's voice couldn't conceal the contempt she felt for her husband and step-daughter. Still, she knew better than to cross him. The look he gave her said it more succinctly than words ever could. It brought back a memory of the only time she was ever truly afraid of him.

She and Karl argued bitterly for some months before the incident. Marla got to the point that she regretted stealing him away from Melissa's mother. She was only attracted by his wealth and the lifestyle it provided. Therefore, Marla felt no guilt for arranging a discreet abortion when she became pregnant soon after their wedding. Having a baby didn't fit in with the lifestyle Marla tried so hard to achieve. Her secret would've remained safely behind her too, if she hadn't required surgery a year later to remove fibroid tumors.

Karl accidentally overheard Marla's doctor telling her the tumors most likely began growing during her aborted pregnancy. Rather than cause a scene in the hospital, he waited until she was home to confront her privately.

For the first time, Karl finally saw her for the heartless creature she always was, so he mapped out a little scenario for her that spelled out in no uncertain terms, what would be the consequences of any more of her schemes or lies. He never mentioned it again, but Marla knew it was financially in her best interest to remain the loving wife, rather than become a despised ex-wife. She played her part flawlessly when in public, but privately she avoided his presence as much as he avoided hers.

Dinner that evening was unusually quiet since Marla pretended to have a headache in order to avoid another round of unpleasantness with her step-daughter. It was obvious that Melissa saw right through her and Marla didn't want to arouse her suspicions any more than they already were. There was too much at stake. If the rumors were even half true, there was a fortune in gold or jewels hidden somewhere on this property. Marla could search a lifetime without finding a thing, but she figured Melissa either knew right where to look, or stood a much better chance of finding it that she did.

As Marla watched the touching little scene between father and daughter, it crossed her mind the possibility that those jewels would make a nice little going away present … for her, that is. She could live the life she wanted without having to grovel to Karl or anyone else. If there was a treasure to be found, she'd let Melissa lead her right to it. Even if there wasn't any treasure, Marla enjoyed this lavish lifestyle far too much