The Inheritance Murders

By E. L. Johnson

Crystal works as a personal assistant, but when her boss turns up sick, it is up to her to go to a rich client’s house and support him as his family prepares for his uncle’s passing.  Finding her boss’ sex-filled emails makes Crystal determined to stay professional at all costs...until she meets the client’s brother, who is exactly her type of sexy.  When the uncle dies under suspicious circumstances, Crystal takes on more duties than your average PA: funeral tasks, investigating multiple deaths, searching a haunted house and becoming a sexual playmate.  But, someone doesn’t want her around, and they’re willing to kill to keep their inheritance.  Too bad for them that Crystal’s got a few tricks of her own.  In this tale of sex, murder and ghosts, sometimes the hired help is a bit more than average, and sometimes bodies just won’t stay dead.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sands Press
• Release date: Oct 15, 2017
• ISBN: 9781988281322

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Author

Chapter One

Friday, 8:55 a.m.

She should have known her good luck wouldn't last. Crystal hurried up the steps of the corporate building, waved her ID to the security guard and passed through the metal detector.

She was in the elevator to the ninth floor within seconds. The glass doors closed, revealing her harried reflection. Damp brown hair, pale face, thinly lined gray trench coat, over a simple pencil skirt and pink sneakers. Yes, she was one of those working women who wore sneakers when commuting to work. Not the most glamorous look, but she'd prefer to save her feet and get to work on time than look beautiful plugging along slowly in gorgeous heels.

The doors opened with a light beep. She sailed into the foyer and hung up her coat and scarf. She glanced at her watch. She had seconds before her boss Evangeline arrived. She flicked the electric kettle on and removed her sneakers, replacing them with smart-looking black heels.

In moments she'd prepped Evangeline's desk with the morning's post, a list of people who'd left calls, her tea (strong Yorkshire blend, a little milk, one-quarter sugar) steaming hot, and a folder of the day's documents ready for her perusal.

Then she heard it. A wet, hacking sound.

She stopped and looked up. Someone was coughing. She stared at the polished metal elevator doors. The sound grew louder and came from inside.

She cringed. Who was coughing? Didn't they know that aside from being one of Selby's top fifty under fifty for two years in a row, Evangeline Prescott was also obsessed with germs?

It didn't matter who it was as long as he or she left, as soon as possible. If it was a client, she'd have security escort them out. If it was a colleague, they should know better.

The elevator doors opened with a ding. It was Evangeline.

The day had gotten ten times worse.

She stormed in, coughing and hacking. Her golden curls hung limp around her shoulders. Her skin had a pale tinge and her silk blouse wasn't tucked in properly.

She coughed into her black leather glove, then pulled them off and dropped them on Crystal's desk, along with her wool coat from Saks, and walked into her office without a word.

When she'd first started at the firm, she made an effort to say 'Good morning,' each day. If the icy glares weren't enough, three days later she had an email from Evangeline's PA, asking to please stop wasting her time with 'frivolities' when she walked into the office, as Evangeline had more pressing things to think about.

She'd turned to the offending PA, who sat across from her. Is this a joke?

The girl with the severe black hair shook her head. Crystal could have taken a risk and tried to engage her in conversation, but she'd learned her lesson. Now she remained silent as Evangeline walked in.

She stuffed the gloves into Evangeline's coat pocket and hung it up quickly and with care, as she liked. She made a mental note to wash her hands as soon as possible.

Crystal walked into her office, her heels clicking on the floor. Without looking up, Evangeline said, I had a wretched time on the train.

Oh no, what happened?

It was horrible. There were Christmas shoppers on the train. Can you imagine? Already? It's October and already it's full of Christmas shoppers. She didn't wait for a reply. Utterly ridiculous. No one should be Christmas shopping at this time of year. It's far too early. I don't have time for this.

She took a dainty sip of her tea and put the porcelain cup back on its saucer.

Crystal waited. Would Evangeline comment on the tea? Was the temperature too hot? Had it steeped too long? Was the milk too warm, too cold?

Nothing. Evangeline flipped her lifeless hair over one shoulder and opened her laptop, ignoring her.

Yes! She didn't hate it. The morning might be salvageable after all. Then she coughed and sputum flew into her cup. She looked at it with distaste, as if Crystal had given her a cup with a fly in it. She pushed it across the desk. I'll have another cup please.

Crystal returned two minutes later with a fresh cup and newly washed hands, only to find Evangeline on the floor coughing.

Are you all right? she asked, startled.

Her boss sat on the floor and closed her eyes for thirty seconds. Then a cough interrupted her and she hacked into a tissue. She looked up at Crystal. I don't feel well, she managed to say between coughs.

Crystal put her tea down and helped her onto her chair.

The tissue had blood on it. Crystal hid her revulsion and said, You should go home. You're sick.

I can't, I have meetings lined up. I can't reschedule. They've been in the diary for weeks. This is such a rotten day. All those horrible commuters on the train... one of them sneezed on me. It was disgusting. I knew it would make me sick.

This morning?

No, Wednesday.

You should go home.

I can't! I have meetings to go to. She coughed again and blood flew out and hit the clear table. She stared at it like an ugly insect.

Crystal swallowed, knowing she would have to clean it up. Evangeline, let me call someone.

Evangeline shook her head vehemently. I have to... she stopped amid another coughing fit. Her whole body trembled. It was a painful sound, as if her throat was tearing.

Ten minutes later, Crystal had talked her into taking a taxi to the nearest hospital. Evangeline pulled on her coat and gloves and left strict instructions on her desk. People gave them a wide berth as Crystal escorted Evangeline down the elevator and through the entrance of the building, walking her to the yellow taxi waiting out front.

Before she left, she clasped Crystal's hand and said, Oh my God. I forgot my meeting with Henry. I have to go back. She turned and stopped, coughing once more.

Crystal gently guided her back to the taxi. What is it? I'll take care of it. She grasped her arm, coughing into her other gloved hand. You? she snickered. He needs a PA this weekend. He hired our firm and paid for my services; he wanted me especially.

I'll tell him you're sick.

"No! You only get one chance with Henry Harcourt. He's one of the most eligible bachelors on the East Coast and is listed in Forbes' Top Fifty Under Fifty this year." She sniffed.

That sniff wasn't from her illness. She'd turned forty-eight last month. Crystal was forced to throw her a birthday party and expected to serve with the catering staff while Evangeline hobnobbed with guests.

I've been sweetening him up for a while. If I'm not there...

I'll arrange a replacement. He'll understand, Crystal said.

No he won't. He'll replace me with someone else. It has to be me. This isn't a top twenty client, Crystal. He is in our top five. You don't disappoint Henry Harcourt. Her chin jutted out stubbornly.

I'll do it, she said.

I don't know... she said, surveying her through expertly applied makeup.

I'll do it. Don't worry.

But you're just an assistant. He wants me. He is expecting me, she uttered, holding the bloody tissue to her mouth.

I'll call and tell him you can't make it.

She stumbled on her four-inch heels. Crystal held her in place and forced her into a cab. As she directed the driver to the nearest hospital, Evangeline grabbed her arm, her bloodied tissue touching her bare skin. Crystal cringed.

Make some excuse. Tell him I'm sending you in my place. Best to keep him waiting. She smiled at that.

Sounds good. Any advice? Anything I should know?

She let go of her wrist. It was all she could do to keep from rubbing it on her skirt. Just knowing the bloody tissue had touched her made the hair on her arms stand up. She could stand the sight of blood, but this made her think of tuberculosis. She inched away.

Evangeline said, Help him with whatever he needs. Some relative of his is dying and a lot of the estate is tied up in trusts.

Don't you need a lawyer for that?

They have one. He needs someone to do all the other things. Make the funeral arrangements, call the family, provide a grief counsellor, that sort of thing. She coughed again. Her skin was now a pasty white.

Okay.

Her narrowed eyes surveyed her like a snake. Are you confident you can do this?

Yes.

Fine. But I don't need to tell you how important this is. Henry Harcourt is a huge client. If he is not happy with the services you provide this weekend...

Then she might as well not show up for work on Monday morning. She got the message, loud and clear.

Crystal. She put a germ-covered gloved hand back on her arm.

Yes? she cringed.

Do not screw this up.

I won't.

You've had a relative die before, right?

All too many. Yes.

Good. Henry's contact details are on my laptop.

How long is this for? The contract?

The weekend.

Okay.

I'm telling you Crystal, do not screw this up. She coughed into her tissue, looked at the driver and said impatiently, Well, what are you waiting for? Drive.

The cabbie jerked and put the car into gear. He drove off like a shot. Crystal let out a shaky breath and walked up the stone steps, back into the corporate building and hit the elevator button with one of her knuckles. No need to spread the germs around.

Once she had thoroughly washed her hands and arms, she returned to her desk. She felt like she needed to take a bath in cleaning solution. She put aside the files she'd arranged for Evangeline's perusal and labeled them with a sticky note for her to read on Monday.

She logged onto Evangeline's laptop. There were a few emails between her and Henry Harcourt, so she opened them. She figured she'd work her way to up the recent ones. The first one read from a week ago:

Evangeline,

Looking forward to seeing you on Friday. Bring that little red number of yours. I'm sure we'll have lots to discuss over dinner. Maybe a little strip poker afterwards?

-HH

She stared. Was this for real? Was Evangeline seriously sleeping with a client? That was like the number one no-no in the corporate rules guide. Or it should be. She dreaded to look at the response:

Henry,

I'm a novice at strip poker. Perhaps you could teach me?

-E

Even worse was his reply:

Evangeline,

There's lots I can teach you. Bring your red heels and we'll see how good a student you are.

-H

Apparently she'd already met him a few times, judging from their emails. A pang of jealousy hit her. After the ruin that was her last relationship, she'd had to resort to pleasuring herself. As gross as the emails were, and however inappropriate, a part of her wished they were for her.

She blinked and tried to skim them for business related info.

Evangeline,

Loved our poker game the other night. Looking forward to this weekend.

-HH

Even worse was her response from yesterday:

Henry,

Hating my day. Incompetent assistant, hopeless diary, only good thing is looking forward to seeing you this weekend. Shame you forgot your wallet. This next meal is your treat!

-E

Aside from the fact that she now wondered if the client could afford their services, Evangeline's message made her bristle. Evangeline's other assistant had left two months ago. There was no question who she was talking about.

Crystal slammed the laptop shut. She'd taken Evangeline's little jabs and had borne them with good grace. But this was too much.

Should she walk out? This was her first job outside of college, and she'd taken it because it was the only offer available. But a recent screw-up with Evangeline's schedule had landed her on the shit list, and it would take months to get back into her good graces. All the good things she'd done were ignored and only the negative things remembered. But perhaps that's how it was in corporate America. She didn't know.

She gave herself a little shake and made a strong cup of tea. She would prove her boss wrong. She would do an excellent job with the client, whoever he was. And if it wasn't good enough, then Evangeline could fire her ass.

She gritted her teeth. She took a deep breath and opened the laptop again. Five minutes later she'd sent Henry Harcourt a polite email informing him that she would be taking Evangeline's place that weekend, as she was indisposed.

Within only a minute, a return email popped up.

Hi Crystal,

Is that your real name?

I'm not sure if Evangeline told you, but my Uncle Alvin is nearing the end of his days. The doctors have only given him maybe a week at most. My family is not prepared to handle this. Can you come stay the weekend and help with the funeral arrangements?

Be at Hornsby rail station tonight at 6:30 p.m., I'll be there to pick you up.

Regards,

Henry Harcourt

Crystal grumbled quietly. She hated getting teased about her name. He'd attached a non-disclosure agreement to his email, which surprisingly included the condition that she bring no tape recorders or other recording devices into the house. It was odd, but she signed it and sent it back immediately. She added his contact number and address into her phone then did what any good PA would do: cleared her schedule and Evangeline's for that day, rescheduled the appointments and meetings for the next week, and booked a ticket on the next train leaving from Philly to Hornsby, New York. It would take about a little more than four hours one way.

Christ! She'd have to hurry.

She raced home and jogged up the steps to her apartment door, her keys jangling in the lock. She dropped her purse on the floor and dragged a simple duffle bag from the closet and put it on the bed. What to pack?

She tore apart her closet and determined she had nothing suitable to wear.

Her phone buzzed. Who would be calling now?

Her lipstick, wallet, some tissues, a few pens, and an old paperback bumped her hand as she looked madly for the phone in her purse. It buzzed noisily, vibrating the entire bag. Finally, she fished it out.

Hello?

Hello Crystalline.

Aunt Dagmar, she paused. How did you get this number?

Don't be rude, Crystalline. Have you received my parcel?

You mean a package? No, why?

Look on your doorstep. It should have arrived today.

She peered out the peephole of her apartment. No package. Crystalline... her aunt said.

What?

Her aunt paused. Even two hundred miles away, that sigh belied years'

worth of disapproval. I did a reading for you. I see you taking a journey soon. By train.

She tried to ignore the creepy feeling tickling the back of her neck. Okay...

Have you accepted your gift yet?

It's not a gift.

Do I have to tell you how...

Aunt Dagmar, next you'll be asking me if I accept Jesus Christ as my Lord and savior. No, I have not, okay? It's all bullshit anyway.

A pause. You haven't seen the signs?

What signs? She asked before she could stop herself. She clapped a hand to her forehead.

The signs of a death approaching. Look around. You cannot keep ignoring your gift, child.

I'm twenty-five years old, Aunt Dagmar.

Then it's time you stopped ignoring what's right in front of you and look around. You have a gift.

That's all new age mumbo-jumbo and you know it.

You cannot run from this, Crystalline. I cannot believe you have not seen this coming. Or have you drugged yourself into insensibility?

Aunt, you sound like a creepy Jane Austen character, she wanted to say.

She looked down at the bottle of pills in her bag. She'd popped one once Evangeline had left in the taxi; she couldn't take another. That's none of your business.

Please, Crystalline. Hear me out.

Whatever you say, Aunt Dagmar.

You're being juvenile.

"Was there anything