Murder at the Graves Estate
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However, Inspector Richards suspects that there is a hidden agenda behind it all and begins an investigation to find out the real killer.
Gary T Brideau
I was born in a small house in Brooklyn, Nova Scotia, Canada in 1947 and moved to Bridgeport, Connecticut as a small boy. I met Lauren, the love of my life in1985 and were married years later and moved to Bristol, Connecticut. One night, I had a vivid dream that caught my attention, that spurred me to write it down, and sent it to my sister T. Jene Brideau, for an interpretation who also is a writer. She wrote and told me that the story was good. I took her encouragement and my imagination went to work. That’s when I discovered my God-given talent to write great space adventures stories. From then on, I have written over fifty stories of which only seven of them have been published with great reviews.
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Murder at the Graves Estate - Gary T Brideau
Copyright © 2017 by Gary T. Brideau.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
Rev. date: 07/16/2021
Xlibris
844-714-8691
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CONTENTS
Character reference
Storyline
Chapter 1 The Spiders have it
Chapter 2 Back into Reality
Chapter 3 Captured
Chapter 4 Sasha, the Investigator
Chapter 5 The last Straw
Chapter 6 A Battle Royal
Chapter 7 A Blast from the Past
Chapter 8 The Lockwood Mansion
Chapter 9 Callie Captures her Man
Chapter 10 The New Man on The Block
Chapter 11 Rosella’s fate
Chapter 12 On the Lamb
Chapter 13 The Numbers Dwindle
Chapter 14 Remember me, Rich
Chapter 15 Not Dead Yet
Chapter 16 George To the Rescue
Chapter 17 A possible Suspect
Chapter 18 Callie comes clean
Chapter 19 Darrell loses it
Chapter 20 Wendy Anderson
Chapter 21 A failed interrogation
Chapter 22 No Picnic
Chapter 23 Hot on The Trail of Whom
Chapter 24 Where to, from here
Epilogue
Many thanks to my sister, T. Jene Brideau,
Who started me writing and my wife who kept me writing.
Thanks to my wife, Lauren, who edits my stories
CHARACTER REFERENCE
Mrs. Graves, she invited 11 people to her house and has paid for the transportation. Because all 11 of them have helped Mrs. Graves
A man by the name of Rich Swanson intercepts one of the invitations and shows up at the estate because he has a personal vendetta against Mrs. Graves.
Gregg Toughen: romanced Sasha to keep her from finding out the truth about the killer. Who he was in love with.
Miss. Cheri Robbins: a small, framed individual who loves books.
Darrell Johnson; he’s a high steel worker and lives in Chicago Illinois. He is a tall 6’ man thirty-five, short curly blond hair blue eyes. Always looks like he needs a shave. Likes to work out in the gym, quick-tempered, thinks the world owes him a living. Can handle himself in a fight. Loved hard rock music.
Sasha Gillespie; lives in New Mexico and is a paralegal. She is 5’5" 22 years old, dressed modestly, had long dark brown hair brown eyes, fair complexion enjoys listening to Chopin. She is outspoken and will come to the defense of another. She earns just enough money to live comfortably. Sasha speaks Scottish Gaelic
Ronny Sawyer: He lives in Arizona and owns a ranch, he is 40 years old, 6’6’’ has short light brown hair, hazel eyes. Loved western music. Dresses in jeans and plaid shirts
Fred Reynolds: He lives in Minnesota and is a college professor He is 29 years old, is 5’9" tall with short well-groomed hair, bossy, dresses well. Thinks he is hot stuff with the ladies. Owns a gun collection, and a blue. sports car.
Rosella Puckett: She lives in Rode Island she is a struggling writer. She is 33 5’3" tall, petite, with brown hair done up in a pixie. She keeps to herself, and only enters a conversation when she has something to say. She likes soft, easy to listen to music.
Callie Swanson: AKA Mouthy she lives in Spokane, Washington, and is a successful writer. She is 30 5’ 5’’ tall with short wavy black hair, outspoken on women’s rights. Is a writer. She is wealthy but doesn’t flaunt it.
Mr. and Mrs. D. Burke: They are retired and lives in Florida. They are an older couple in their early sixties. They love to help people and devote their time to the community.
Inspector Noel Richards: He is the detective investigating the murder. He is 5’8" tall is 45 years old and is neatly dressed, with short dark brown hair. And a Vandyke. And smokes a pipe.
Kristina Brewer: She is artistic
Briana Chase: lives in Connecticut and works in the bank. She is 37 years old and is 5’ 8" tall with medium-length brown hair. She is a born-again Christian with 3 years of bible school under her belt. She prefers to listen to the old gospel music
Thomas Cooper from Ohio. In love with Sasha. Thomas Jay Cooper, a six-tall clean-cut thirty years old with chiseled features chad black pants light blue shirt.
Sabrina Vargas: Dead She lives in New Jersey and runs in a curio shop She is 30 years old, and is 5’2" inches tall, and has long black hair. She likes to wear black clothes and has a coffin for a purse. It is something weird going on in town, you can bet, Sabrina Vargas had something to do with it.
Mrs. Graves: she is 68 years old and lived in the Rasmussen’s Estate until she was brutally murdered. Arrested for murder
Rich Collins: Ohio Rich con artist
Wendy Anderson: innocent bystander
STORYLINE
A MIDDLE-AGED WEALTHY WOMAN living alone decides to throw a party to thank all those who helped her who helped her. The invitation was sent, and only a few came.
But, the gaiety of the festive occasion suddenly turns sour, when a woman is found murdered in her bed. Inspector Noel Richards is called in to solve the case, but the killer goes on a killing spree and turning everyone against each other.
CHAPTER 1
The Spiders have it
M RS. MADELINE GRAVES, a tall thin widow in her late sixties, is the first generation of Graves to live in the old yellow and brown Victorian mention, with its many peaks. That sits on a small peninsula overlooking the ocean, near Rockland, Maine. She lives alone with her butler George, a tall man in his fifties, and the maid Susanna, a short woman in her fifties. The Graves mansion as well as Mrs. Graves is a perfect representation of the nineteen hund reds."
On a bright sunny afternoon, Mrs. Graves sat on the front veranda that wrapped halfway around the house with her cup of hot tea and asked her butler, George, Could you please get me my writing materiel?
Yes, Madam. Would you like your writing table, as well?
Yes, thank you. Then make yourself a cup of tea and sit with me. You’ve been working too hard today.
Yes, Madam.
George placed a small black wooden table in front of Madeline put her writing tablet, pen, and inkwell on the table, then sat next to her in silence, drinking his tea. She stared at her butler and said, You know what this house needs? People, I am going to invite all those nice people who have helped me through the years. I have the money, so why not do it.
Madam, you kept a record of the ones who assisted you in your time of need?
Oh, land sakes yes, and it is time I paid them back for their kindness. Why, I’ll even pay for their trip, here and home again.
Oh, Madam. The Reverend Bronson called and told me to let you know the prayer meeting was canceled just for tonight because of the renovations.
Two hours later, Mrs. Graves handed forty invitations to her butler and said, Mail these right away.
George glanced at the stack of envelopes and said, If you don’t mind me saying Ma’am but that’s a lot of people. Where are we going to put them all?
One thing I have learned through the years, George, and that is if you want a few people to show up at your gathering, invite a whole lot of people.
The butler saw the name; Sasha Gillespie on the top invitation and asked, Isn’t Miss. Sasha your niece?
No, George, But she calls me grandma I met her years ago, had a falling out with her because of her mouth, and haven’t talked to her since. But, if she does show, I will take my advice and hold my tongue when she gets too boisterous with her opinions.
A month later Mrs., Graves handed her butler a grocery list with a big smile on her face and said, Make sure you get everything on the list because twelve people are coming here next month.
Yes, Madam.
The day the guests were to arrive. Mrs., Graves erected a large tent put up, then stocked it with sandwiches, pastry, and soft drinks. Sasha approached Mrs. Graves with her head down and said, I am so sorry for making a scene when I met you.
Don’t worry about it child, it’s in the past.
Who are all these people?
I’ll introduce them to you,
The tall, scruffy man that is Darrell Johnson. Stay away from him because he thinks he’s a lady’s man. He fixed a flat tire for me once. The man with the loud clothes and the bone-handled, hunting knife strapped to his belt is Ronny Sawyer and owns a ranch in Arizona. He came into my hospital room and kept me laughing when I was ill. That petite woman with her hair done up in a Pixie is Rosella Puckett, she kept me company during a storm one night. Mrs. Graves blushed when she said,
The well-dressed man that is Fred Reynolds, and he gave me a ride to the train station when I was in Minnesota. That older couple is Mr. and Mrs. D. Burke they live in Florida. I helped them put their lives together right after a bad storm. And that woman with the smile on her face helping the Burkes, that’s Kristina Brewer. She’s from California. Brightest piece of sunshine you ever want to meet."
Sasha Gillespie pointed to a neatly dressed woman in her mid-twenties and inquired, Who is the polite one that is assisting the Burkes?
That is Briana Chase. She’s a Christian from Connecticut, who works in a bank and helps me keep my money straight. The woman next to her is Miss. Cheri Robbins from Montana helped me get through that huge state. Oh, the one dressed all in black is Sabrina Vargas, she talked my ear off when my car was being fixed in New Jersey."
Why did you invite her grandma? That is one weird woman if you ask me.
A tall husky man in his early thirties approached Mrs. Graves, shook her hand saying, I’m Rich Collins, from Canton, Ohio. You sent an invitation to my friend Thomas Cooper. He couldn’t make it, so he sent me to represent him.
I’m glad you could make it.
Mrs. Graved turned to Sasha and asked, What is it, child?
She kissed Mrs. Graves and said, It’s nice to have you as my Grandma even if you are not my real one. Hey, I’m going to help myself to some of the food, I’m starved.
Miss. Gillespie picked up a paper place and helped herself to just about everything. Darrell Johnson walked up behind her and asked, Need a hand carrying all that?
Sasha glared at him and muttered Scottish Gaelic, Burraidh,
and walked away.
Darrell rushed after her, hollering, Hey, hey, hey. If you are going to insult me, at least say it in a language, I can understand.
Bug death, amadan.
In English, please.
Sasha stated in Scottish Gaelic’ Dè tha cearr. Shaoil mi gu robh thu cho spaideil? A nis ma ghabhas sibh mo leisgeul dhomh a bhith nas fheàrr rudan ri dhèanamh air na chrochadh air feadh an thu.
Give me a fighting chance, will ya. I’m trying to make friends with you.
Why? I overheard you brag about the women you’ve had; at the college, you went to. I thought brainiacs like you understood Scottish Gaelic. All right, I’ll say it so even you can understand. What’s the matter? I thought you were so smart. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than hang around you. Then I told you to bug off and called you a jerk and an idiot. In that order.
I think we got off on the wrong foot. Let me introduce myself to you.
Don’t even bother. I know who and what you are. You are Darrell Johnson, you live in Chicago, you work out at a gym three times a week, and you think the world owes you a living. Bull crap! You are a liar and a con artist. The muscles may be yours but the rest is phony and you haven’t been out on a date in over a year.
Sasha took a bite of her tuna sandwich, turned to Mr. Johnson, and said, Do everybody a favor, shave off that stupid, idiotic, scruffy-looking beard, it makes you look like a bum.
While we are on the subject of my appearance. Is there anything else you don’t like about me?
Yeah. Your clothes.
You have got to be kidding. Do you know how much I spend on my wardrobe every month? Do you?
screamed an aggravated Darrell.
Like I said before. You are a phony right down to your clothes, which makes you look like a circus clown.
Sasha poured herself a tall glass of cold grape juice, walked up to Johnson, and said, Nice red and blue shirt. Cost much?
Ninety dollars. Why do you ask?
Sasha poured her glass of cold grape juice down the front of his shirt and said, You have more money than brains because you paid too much for that shirt.
Darrell grabbed Sasha’s arm and growled, You are not going anywhere until you cough up the money for the shirt you just destroyed.
A six-foot-six tall man in his mid-thirties, dressed in jeans, and a western-style shirt, trolled up behind Darrell, leaned on his head saying, Is he giving you any trouble, ma’am? Ronny Sawyer is my name.
Darrell looked up at Ronny, let go of Sasha, and walked away.
Sasha looked up at Ronny and said, Whoa! You’re a tall one! Thanks. Would you mind hanging around just in case Lover Boy returns?
Sabrina Vargas walked up to Sasha and moaned, What is this? A chuckle farm or something? I never saw so many strange people in all my life.
Sasha stared at Sabrina’s dark clothes and her little coffin for a purse and stated, The only one strange around here lady is you, so, get with the program.
Mrs. Graves rang a bell then announced, Everyone is going to be given a piece of paper with questions on it. All you have to do is find what it is. Then read the clue that will tell you where to go next. Good luck. Oh, you need to team up in pairs.
Sasha asked Ronny, You wanna join me? Between the two of us, we should be able to lick this thing.
Sabrina glanced at her sheet of paper and grumbled, What do I look like a child?
and walked away to be by herself.
Ronny asked, Sasha What is the first question?
Find a photo of a future butterfly.
Sasha muttered, This is going to be harder than I thought.
That’s easy. A caterpillar.
But where do we find a caterpillar?
In the bushes by the side of the house.
Minutes later, Sasha crawled out of the bushes and said, The next clue is. What croaks but never dies?
That’s a frog,
stated Ronny.
An hour and a half later, Ronny read the last clue that said, Find a slugger laying on its side, and the treasure is yours.
Ronny looked at Sasha, and questioned, Where are we going to find a sleeping boxer?
No silly, it’s a baseball bat, and I know just where it is.
After retrieving the bat, the perspiration dripped off them as Sasha and Ronny collapsed on the front veranda with their collection of things. Sasha glanced at Callie Swanson busy writing in her notebook and asked, What’ch doing?
I’m an author, and I had an idea for a fantastic story. But the best murder stories are the ones that are real. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get this idea down before I forget it.
Mr. and Mrs. Burke walked on the porch with a few items from the game. Mrs. Burke stated, Looks like we are going to come in last. I was so hoping to win.
It’s just a game, Love,
stated Mr. Burke.
Ronny whispered in Sasha’s ear, Why don’t we give what we have to the Burkes the prize doesn’t matter to me.
I love it.
Sasha called the Burkes over and said, Here. Mrs. Graves isn’t my real grandmother, and it would be unfair for me and Ronny to get the prize.
Oh, thank you very much,
stated Mrs. Burke with a big smile on her face.
That evening, Sasha went to her room to get ready for her shower while the other two women she bunked with, Callie and Rosella, were still downstairs playing Charades with the rest. During her shower, Sasha turned off the water several times, poked her head out of the white shower curtain, and asked, Who’s there? Hello?
with no reply.
After