Deadly Inheritance

By Terri Wright

Sheridan Lambert had been enjoying life and the success of opening her own photography business. Until one fateful night while working at an event, an unexpected man collapsed in her arms. Cause of death . . . murder. But unbeknownst to Sheridan . . . her 'safe' world was about to unravel. Sheridan finds herself forced into playing a forgotten childhood game, in order to locate and collect a recently discovered inheritance. An inheritance she did not want. Meanwhile, Detective Shane Monroe must try to protect Sheridan until he can identify and apprehend a demented killer who is also after the inheritance. But will he catch the killer in time or will Sheridan become just another victim.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Terri Wright
• Release date: Oct 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310337253

Book preview

Chapter One

As a young child, Sheridan Lambert hid behind the lens of a camera. It was her way to escape, to deal with the heartbreak and loss she had undergone.

Now, in her mid-twenties, Sheridan was still behind the lens of a camera. This time it was a career choice, not the escape of her youth. It was her ambition and dream, to one day open her own studio, which drove her. Through all the ups and downs, the setbacks, and disappointments, her perseverance still held strong.

These days, a proud owner of a successful photography studio, Sheridan occasionally pinched herself to be sure she was not dreaming. It was real.

I only want a few more poses and then we will be finished. Sheridan promised the soon- to- be bride. Lower your head a slight bit. Perfect. Now if you could...

Sorry to disturb you, Marci apologetically announced as she stepped into the studio. I made- up some ice tea, and was wondering if you would like a glass?

That would be refreshing. Sheridan said tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen over her brow. Can I offer you a glass also? She asked, directing her question to the woman on the other end of the camera lens.

That would be wonderful, thank you. The young woman replied.

Make it two glasses, with lots of ice. Of all days, the air conditioning had to pick one of the hottest days to not work properly. And when you find the time, can you call that repair man again and tell him the air conditioning is still not working properly.

I’ve already taken care of it. Marci replied.

Thanks. You’re the best.

With a superciliousness grin on her face, I know. Marci replied before wandering off to make the ice tea.

Sheridan still considered it a blessing, and incredibly fortunate to have found Marci. About a year and half ago her photography business suddenly ‘took off’.

It flourished.

It was the only words Sheridan could think of to describe the sudden rise in the number of appointments she was scheduling. At the time she viewed it as a lucky break, an indicator that good things were finally heading her way.

When Sheridan decided to open her business she knew it was somewhat of a risk. She had no delusions that, money would be tight. Establishing herself as a talented photographer; was first priority. People had to see her work.

The one detail she hadn’t anticipated or prepared for; was how quickly it had come about. From the financial side of the business, she considered it beneficial. But, it left her over-whelmed with work, and short-handed.

She was in desperate need of an assistant. Someone to answer the phone, schedule appointments, and help set-up for photo shoots. With some luck, she would find someone with a basic knowledge of how to develop film.

Sheridan had almost given up hope on finding a qualified person, when one late afternoon Marci Gibson walked into her studio.

At the time, Marci was a part time student finishing up her degree in journalism with a minor in photography. She had alluded to, that she needed a part-time job to help pay bills. As a college student, she was broke.

Marci had also expressed that the position would be more than just a job to her. It was a chance to work alongside someone whose work she admired.

Sheridan had known exactly what ‘work’ Marci was referring to. She had only displayed a few of her photos in the local art gallery, in the past year. The two black and white photos she had taken of a hundred and fifty year old oak tree, hanging with Spanish moss.

They had been some of her favorite photographs.

Of course, complimenting her work and talent had no influence on rather Marci was hired.

Well, maybe a little. Sheridan had secretly thought.

But that wasn’t the only thing working in Marci’s favor. Sheridan took an instant liking to the gutsy, intelligent girl.

Sheridan had been one of those students who had worked her way through college. In her book, it proved Marci would be a hard, reliable worker. Having some experience in photography, and a keen eye, was also working in Marci’s favor. A definite bonus, Sheridan thought. It hadn’t been a prerequisite on the job listing, but thinking back it should have been.

Sheridan had another reason for hiring Marci, this one more out of desperation. In the two weeks since the ad had appeared in the newspaper, Marci was only the second person to apply for the position.

The first person she interviewed, sort of, freaked her out. The young girl was covered with tattoos and body piercings. Besides that, she had almost no personality.

Marci was what some might consider your ‘average’ attractive person. She had greenish brown eyes and her shoulder length hair was brown, not pink or dyed black. The only body piercings were on her ears.

Sheridan had a professional image to up hold. So, without further hesitation or doubt, she offered Marci the position on the spot. Marci quickly accepted and agreed to start that day.

Since then, Marci has graduated and earned her degree. And to be honest, Sheridan couldn’t be happier. . . even if it meant there was a good chance Marci would leave, when the ‘right’ position came along, leaving her once again looking for another assistant. To Sheridan’s surprise and indebtedness, Marci has stayed on.

Of course, they both knew they were more than boss and employer, they considered themselves good friends. And recently Sheridan has been agreeing to let Marci work some of the photo shoots by herself, in order to evaluate her skill as a photographer.

Sheridan thought she was good, so much so, she was seriously considering bringing Marci on as a full-time employee/potential partner. She just hadn’t had the time yet to sit down and officially discuss the offer with her.

If I haven’t said it enough, Samantha, I’m sorry for it being warm and stuffy in here, Sheridan apologetically mentioned again.

You don’t see me complaining, Samantha said. I was happy you were still available, having waited so long to schedule. When my soon to be sister-in-law Sidney, showed me your work, I knew I had to have you for our photographer.

Well thank you. I have your wedding date down on the calendar, exactly six weeks and two days from today.

Just then Marci returned, carrying two tall glasses of ice tea and two straws. I added lemon to both. Hope you like it.

As long as it’s cold, I don’t care. Sheridan said pressing the cold glass to her forehead.

Why don’t we all take a short break to cool off? Sheridan suggested, before taking a long sip of her ice tea. I’m just about done here.

A short time later, Sheridan emerged from the staging room.

All finished? Marci asked.

Sheridan nodded her head. She’s finishing changing out of her wedding gown.

Won’t you take a break, I can check her out. One to two weeks to have her back to review the proofs? Marci asked.

That should be fine. Sheridan said. I’ll be in my office should you need me. Picking up the half empty glass of ice tea, she proceeded to her small office located in the back of the shop.

The cream colored, leathered, wing-back chair she had reupholstered after finding it at a second hand store was calling her. It felt good to put her feet up. Leaning across her desk, she flipped on the small, electric fan. The air felt cool against her skin. Then reaching back, she released the clip which had been holding her hair up all day. She let it drape over the back of the chair.

You look tired, Marci said a few minutes later, standing in the doorway to Sheridan’s office.

I’m just hot and perhaps a little tired, she replied.

The repair man promised to be here first thing in the morning.

He’d better or I’m going to file a huge complaint against him. I can’t expect clients to relax and look pretty when their so uncomfortable. I hope it cools down tonight, otherwise, it’s going to be miserable upstairs.

I tried for today, but the guy said there was no way he could work us in.

Oh, I’m not blaming you, Sheridan quickly assured her. I’m frustrated, and I have a feeling the repair man is going to say I need a new air conditioning unit. I knew it was coming, the thing is ancient. I was hoping to hold off until next year.

Perhaps reading the mail will improve your mood. It just arrived. Marci said passing it over, making sure the big white envelope with the black bold letters was on top.

Sitting upright in her chair, Sheridan glanced at the first piece of mail. A small smile crossed her face. I can’t believe it. Do you know who this is from?

I know exactly who it’s from. Marci eagerly replied. Why do you think I placed it on top of the pile?

Marci had heard a story . . . or two, about the ‘big job’ that helped promote the fledgling company. She was also subjected to view the pages and pages of proofs from the event. They were impressive and beautiful. It was one of the reasons she had been hired a few months later.

Opening her desk door, Sheridan pulled out a letter opener. She was anxious to see what was inside the envelope, as she slid out the card stock piece of paper. I’ve been invited to join them at the 1840’s Grand Ball. And according to the attached note, they want me to be the official photographer again. It says here, pointing to the bottom half of the note. That everyone was so impressed with their pictures, that they had received numerous letters requesting for the same photographer.

Are you surprised the ladies are requesting you to come back this year?

Not in the least. It would be difficult to find someone with my amazing talent, not to mention charming personality who appreciates the history of the place. Sheridan replied with a smug grin.

A little arrogant . . . are we?

Only when I talk about my work, Sheridan replied. And you know I am thankful, to Miss Margaret. She’s a very interesting lady. I like her.

Sheridan could still remember the first time she met Margaret. The woman was medium height, slender, with graying hair that was pulled back in a severely knotted coiffure. But what struck Sheridan most about the woman, was her striking, crystal blue eyes.

The floral print dress Margaret was wearing was obviously out dated, as was her hat. But somehow, on her it looked classy. Her mannerisms were gracious, and Margaret had invited her to call her . . . Miss Margaret. Everyone does you know.

It only took Sheridan a few minutes in Margaret’s company to realize how candid a person, she was. Miss Margaret had promptly stated she had come here asking on behalf of the historical society of Louisiana. She personally added how grateful she would be if I could come to their yearly event to take photos.

At first Sheridan was honored by the fact the woman had driven all this way, instead of calling. But Sheridan had been hesitant to say yes right away to such a project.

She was also a little suspicious. Did they not have a qualified photographer in their area? She considered telling the woman that her calendar was full.

It was a fib, of course.

However, the woman had been persistent. A dear friend had highly recommended you. That is why I’m here. This friend even went so far as to say that no one else could handle the event with such grace and talented skills as you.

The comment was aimed to stroke Sheridan’s ego . . . and it did. But she had to look at it from a business stand point, the cost and time away. There would also be travel involved, not that that bothered her . . . too much.

Miss Margaret must have been reading her mind, for she had added. Naturally, I’ll cover your travel expenses and lodging.

Sheridan was still trying to get her business off the ground. Turning away potentially future clients . . . well . . . she found herself saying. You have yourself a photographer.

She even went so far as to have a fancy dress made in the 1840’s fashion, just so she would blend in with the other guest. And to her amazement, she even enjoyed herself.

The house and gardens were more beautiful then she imagined and made for a great backdrop. She even learned a few dances from that time period. But the best part, she made enough money from that one event, to cover all her expenses for the following month. Of course the publicity and contacts she made were incalculable.

Judging from that smile on your face, you’re going to except, Marci said.

No, Sheridan said, raising a brow.

Whaaat! Marci exclaimed.

We, Sheridan emphasized, are going to except the invitation, so make sure your calendar is clear. It’s the first weekend in September, so it won’t interfere with the wedding I have scheduled. If I have anything scheduled on that Friday before, reschedule it. It will take two of us to cover this event.

Ok, Marci slowly said. Just one question, what does one wear to such events.

Don’t worry. I will take care of everything. And if you’re interested in history, like I am, you’re going to love this place.

Setting the invitation aside, Sheridan continued sorting through the mail. One particular white envelope immediately caught her attention or, rather the name in the upper left hand corner of the envelope.

She was stunned at first, but her mood quickly turned to resentment. Without even bothering to open it, she reached over and dropped it in the trash can. In her opinion, it could go out with the rest of the trash.

The sudden scowl that crossed Sheridan’s face, just then, did not escape Marci’s notice. Is there something wrong? she curiously asked

Why do you ask?

The envelope you tossed in the trash, it seemed to upset you.

No. It’s just junk mail.

Interesting, from you’re reaction I would have thought it was more than that, Marci suspiciously claimed. You can tell me. I’m a good listener.

If it was worth mentioning, I would tell you, but it’s not, Sheridan said forcing a smile to prove it was nothing.

Ok. If you say so, Marci replied not believing a word of it. Sheridan’s response was typical. She should have just kept her mouth shut.

Marci had learned early on in their friendship, never to press an issue regarding topics Sheridan deemed too personal. Especially questions surrounding her childhood.

Sheridan would either avoid them or cleverly change the subject. The few facts Marci she did know about Sheridan, was that she was raised mostly by her mother. There was never much money left for extra luxuries at the end of the month. Until recently her mother lived here in Texas. But now she resides in Florida with her husband.

I better go block off that weekend on the calendar, Marci finally said. Your next appointment is at 3:00. You’ll enjoy this appointment. It’s that young couple who stopped in last week with the brand new baby.

I’ll probably be in the dark room, so just knock on the door when they arrive. Thanks, Marci. Sheridan said, glancing up briefly from her desk as she continued sorting the mail.

Marci turned and left, closing the door behind her.

After the last appointment was over, Sheridan headed back to her office again. Marci made sure everything was locked up, before turning the sign to indicate they were now closed.

What a nice family, Marci said walking into Sheridan’s office.

That little one was an angel, the whole time. If only all babies were that corporative, Sheridan said.

Our job would be easy, Marci stated to complete her thought.

Um, I wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier, Sheridan regrettably expressed. I hope you’re not angry with me.

Don’t worry, I have a thick skin, Marci said with a slight smile. Do you have any big plans for dinner?

Not really. I was just going to eat some left over Chinese food and open some windows, hoping there’s a breeze tonight, Sheridan answered. You’re more than welcome to join me.

I’ll think I’ll pass tonight, Marci said, picking up her purse from the chair and heading toward the back door. But thanks for the invite anyway. See you tomorrow.

Sheridan made sure the office lights were turned off, and the back door locked before she climbed the spiral staircase to her one-bedroom studio apartment.

It was one of the reasons Sheridan decided on buying this older building two years ago. She wanted a place to open a photography business, while also having enough space she could call home. Trying to pay for two places was out of the question at the time.

The other reason was for its location, about a mile from the heart of old town Houston. The main selling feature was its old architecture, which she loves, what with its high ceilings, intricate crown moldings and exposed brick.

It was beautiful.

Pulling out the half empty cartons of chicken fried rice and wonton soup from the refrigerator, she placed them in the microwave to warm them. She then grabbed a fork and dug in. She missed lunch, so she was hungry.

As she ate, Sheridan mulled over her hasty decision to throw a certain letter in the trash earlier in the afternoon.

At one point, she’s considered retrieving the letter. I should at least read it, to see what itsaid. She had thought. But for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Too many years had pasts. Too many hurt feelings.

It was better if he remained dead to her.

Chapter Two

Confident and encouraged, Sidney Monroe commended herself on an . . . almost successful task. Perhaps it was a little premature of her, she briefly considered, before she continue up the steps to the building.

As she approached the main entrance, a man dressed in an expensive looking black suit . . . a high priced lawyer, she hastily concluded . . . rudely let the door close, instead of holding it open for her. It was another self-important ass lawyer with no civilities toward other people. She could spot one a mile away.

Of course, Sidney didn’t consider all lawyers in that respect. Her brother, Eli, was the exception to the rule.

Within minutes of entering the police station, Sidney was swiftly greeted by a young male officer. You look to be in need of some personal assistance Miss . . .?

It’s Sidney. And would you know where I could find Detective Shane Monroe, she graciously replied.

The officer smiled and personally escorted her back toward Shane’s desk. Across the large, hectic, somewhat noisy room, Sidney spotted Shane. He stood in one of the large corner offices, along with several other men. It seemed an intense, heated discussion was taking place, her brother the main focus.

This was not good

He’s in a meeting with the captain at the moment and it looks as if he could be awhile. Perhaps I can help you.

This minor delay in seeing Shane had been anticipated . . . almost expected. And for that reason, she had cleared her whole schedule.

She wasn’t going anywhere.

That won’t be necessary. I’ll just wait right here, she kindly told the officer as she walked around Shane’s big metal desk and made herself at home.

The young officer shook his head in a disapproving way. I’m not sure that’s a wise idea.

Oh, don’t worry, Sidney assured him. I promise you my brother won’t mind. And should he say anything, I’ll totally take the blame.

The officer was almost dumbfounded. Your Shane’s . . . baby . . . sister.

Sidney didn’t miss the subtle lowering of the young officer eyes as he checked her out. It was no surprise. Shane had most of his fellow colleagues believing his little sister was a whining, spoiled teenager. You’ll have to forgive my brother. He is still in denial that his little sister has actually grown up, Sidney confessed.

The officer smiled. By all means have a seat. Can I get you something to drink while you wait?

Thank you. But, I will be fine.

Sidney knew she should have called ahead to see if Shane was busy, or if he was even in the office. He could’ve been out investigating a case. Except, she didn’t want to risk him hanging up on her or giving her a lame excuse that, he had to go . . . ‘police business.’ She had heard that old excuse way too many times before.

The thought caused her to roll her eyes.

This way, Shane could not so easily brush her off. She was the baby in the family and the only girl, but by no means did it imply she would be ignored by her three, domineering brothers. Sidney loved her brothers, but out of the three of them, she had always felt the closest to Shane.

Sidney learned many things growing up with her brothers. She found the most useful ones were learning how to fight and manipulation, though, she preferred to call it maneuvering one to her way of thinking.

If necessary, she would use her loving, sisterly charm. It still worked on Shane . . . the majority of the time. And should that fail to convince him, well, there was always blackmail. Sidney was only, half-jokingly considering that option. But sometimes one has to make allowances, she thought.

Last year Shane had promised her that he would come this year. She even had the cleverness to force him to put it in writing at the time. Either way, her brother was going to join her at the 1840’s Grand Ball event in Louisiana.

Reaching into her purse, Sidney pulled out the wrinkled piece of paper. His John Hancock was scrawled across the bottom in black ink. Tucking the piece of paper back in her purse, she looked across the room and saw her brother approaching. The expression on his face was one of frustration.

Sidney felt her confidence slightly waver. Shane! she exclaimed standing to greet her brother. I hope that scowl on your face isn’t directed toward me.

What do you want Sid, Shane bit out. I don’t have the time or the patience for your games.

Sidney realized this wasn’t going to be easy. She should leave and come back later, maybe tomorrow. But she had plans for tomorrow. She decided to forge ahead, hoping she could lighten his mood.

Why do you always assume I want something? Can’t your baby sister come and visit her favorite brother without being interrogated for her reasons. I thought perhaps I would take you out for lunch.

How often do you come by just to take me out to lunch? Better yet, you hardly ever come by the station. Again, what do you want?

Fine, I was trying to be nice to repay you for all the things you have done for me, Sidney said, putting on a hurt expression. If you’re not going to take me up on a free meal….

Did someone say a free meal? a husky male voice behind her asked.

I don’t believe you have met my sister, Sidney, Shane reluctantly said

Sidney, this is Stephen Cartwright.

Turning around, Sidney offered him her hand. It’s nice to meet you. My brother doesn’t introduce me to many of his colleagues.

And there’s a good reasons I don’t, Shane quickly added.

Did I hear Shane turn down a free lunch from a beautiful woman? Stephen asked, giving Sidney a quick wink. She was definitely Shane’s sister, the same deep blueish, gray eyes and the straight broad . . . yet feminine nose.

Back off Stephen, Shane said in a low growl. And I didn’t say no, I was only questioning her motives behind it.

Do you have a little sister, Stephen? Sidney curiously asked.

No, I have an older brother.

But if you did, would you always question her motives or would you just accept that maybe she just wanted to be nice and spend a little time with her brother, whom she loves and admires. Sidney could have continued on with her praises, but she didn’t have to, she began to see a softening in Shane’s demeanor.

I give up, Shane said putting his hands up in the air. He doesn’t know you the way I know you. Now where are you taking me for lunch?

I thought about that little café, you like to go to.

Mind if I tag along? Stephen asked.

No! Shane snapped.

Don’t be rude Shane, Sidney said looping arms with Stephen and Shane as she steered them toward the exit. He has to eat, too, I’ll drive.

By the time Sidney pulled into the parking lot of the café, she had a plan of attack laid out. She just had to be careful in how she went about it.

They took a booth up front, quickly ordered, and didn’t have to wait long for their food to arrive. Sidney quietly sat back, eating her lunch, patiently waiting for an opportunity to set her plan into motion.

It won’t make it to court, Stephen said. Remember, I was on your six, and saw what happened. It went down as you told them.

That woman literally threw herself on me. What was I supposed to do, let that drug dealer escape out the back door? She was hitting me. I was trying to get the bitch off me. It was her own doing that she tripped and hit her head on the corner of the table and needed stitches. I wasn’t even touching her when she fell. She has some nerve of filing assault charges, accusing me of intentionally hurting her because she thinks am a racist. It had nothing to do with it.

Sidney saw her window of opportunity. Wiping her hands on her napkin, she leaned forward, forearms resting on the table and casually said. So that’s why you were angry when you approached me. Does this mean you’ll be put on desk duty until this woman’s… pausing briefly, too choose her words, the woman’s, obviously, faulty memory is miraculously restored and the whole matter dropped.

Yes! Shane begrudgingly said. But I have eye witnesses, to back up my story. So don’t worry.

I’m not worrying, Sidney said, sitting back in her seat. But, if it was me, having to do desk duty and all that paperwork or taking some needed vacation days, well, it’s a no brainer.

"Your sister does have a very