Between Heaven & Hell Is Gray

By J.R. Masterson

A young man's true birthright is revealed one stormy night!! It would take him across oceans and continents to claim his legacy of supreme power, unimaginable wealth and a legacy born in blood!!
He would turn the charmed and champagne lives of the rich, famous and powerful upside down! Many would fall for his angelic looking face and graceful manners! No man was his equal!! Every woman desired him!! His touch would bring joy to many and ruin to others! Love, lust, retribution, death and betrayal, oh my! His picture perfect world would be shattered as a nightmare from his childhood resurfaces and brings him to his knees!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665543941

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© 2021 J.r. Masterson. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/06/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-4395-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-4393-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-4394-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021923143

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1 The Home Coming

Chapter 2 Fade To Black

Chapter 3 The Morning After

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you, to GOD for my continued health & Strength.

And last but not least; the entire A Team at Author House

For helping make this dream a reality.

CHAPTER 1

THE HOME COMING

The season was young. Its fiery eye burnt away the early morns breath of fog. I had just finished a long hot shower. I strutted around my penthouse like the proud man that I was. I stopped to admire my reflection in one of the floor length mirrors that was mounted on the wall. Putting on my silk white robe I went to the window and stared out over my city before turning my attention inward. My surroundings were tightly woven rugs of wool and silk in white and gold patterns. A chandelier of the richest crystal spun slightly overhead. End tables made of Egyptian black marble accented my Persian leather sofas.

My coffee table glass shone like diamonds as the black jade vases ascended in size.

I looked at the fireplace and the large portrait of myself that set above it. A black grand piano was to the left of it and a black marble bust of my father set on a pedestal nearby. I walked down a long dimly lit hallway and went into my study. I closed the door and locked myself away from the world. I held onto the key as if for dear life. Setting down I rested only briefly before getting up. This room was my favorite out of the ten others. It was a dark contrast to the white and gold hues that embraced the rest of the home.

I made me a drink and looked at the silver framed portraits that were placed perfectly about my study. Here and only here did I feel completely at peace with myself.

So much had transpired. Endless blood had been spilt by me in the name of love and some in the name of hate. Unlocking my desk I took out a black and gold chest. Within it were three diaries. Taking out the smallest of the three; I returned the others and locked the chest back. As I so often had done in the past I begun to read my deeds and the many misdeeds that led up to this morning. Everything was so very different then. It was a rainy night when I received the certified letter. The envelope was marked urgent and the name of a lawyer’s firm was in fancy bold print in the left side corner. Getting a towel to dry off with I put on some music. I had been feeling strange all week. Like something was going to happen. Once I read the letter I felt it even more so.

It stated that the family who had raised me was liars and conspirators. They were blinding me from my true legacy! A woman by the name of Mrs. Rachelle Linton Grace wanted to meet with me. She had been a friend and close confidant to my real family and would explain everything to me. A limousine would be picking me up at 8:00am the next morning. Reading over the letter again I shook my head in bewilderment. The news that the Goddard’s were not my real family was no revelation at all. They had told me that story in my early teens. I remembered only kindness and genuine love from my parents. That night was the genesis for many more sleepless ones to come. The heavens lit up as I tried to force the contents of the letter from my mind. I had tried calling my parents and I couldn’t get through to them. I guess this storm was messing with the power lines.

I was up by dawn listening to the continuing rain and the added rumble of thunder. After getting dressed I listened to some jazz music to pass the time away. I still couldn’t make any calls to my parents. I was down in the lobby of my apartment building by 7:45am. A shiny black limousine was already there waiting. Checking to make sure that I had brought the letter with me I walked out into the rain briefly. The car door swung open slowly. It scared me. Stepping in I heard a deep masculine voice greet me. The seat on which I set was wider than my bed. There was a fully stocked bar and a portable phone.

Make yourself comfortable, the voice told me. A black glass that separated me from the driver slowly descended. I am Doug, Mrs. Graces’ chauffer. I am very sorry to inform you that she passed away earlier this morning. His voice was calm.

I didn’t know what to say. So I said nothing at all. He told me that her lawyers would meet with me and the black glass ascended back into place. I became a little nervous and afraid. At 8:15am the limousine had stopped in front of a towering glass and steel building. Doug gave me instructions on what to do. Thanking him I headed up the walkway. The names, Lord, Swanson, Lord & Andrews, LLP were on the glass doors in giant bold old English letters. I got off on the 10th floor and followed the uniformed cherry oak stained doors until I found suite 1001. The door suddenly opened as I was about to knock. A young woman stood before me. Her eyes were a beautiful blue as they met with mine. You must be Daniel Goddard, she said holding the door open for me.

I’ll let Mr. Swanson know that you are here. I watched as she pushed a button on her phone then vanished into an office. A man came back out with her. Shaking my hand he ushered me into his lavishly decorated office. I am Darryl Swanson. Have a seat. Unfortunately Mrs. Grace passed on. Yes, her driver told me. I am sure all of this strikes you as bazaar, he said looking at me over the rims of his glasses. Within time all will become crystal clear," he remarked with a faint smile. The skies were still by the time I got out of the limousine and returned to my small apartment. Mr. Swanson didn’t tell me much and he never discussed the letter that I had received.

He gave me an antique black and gold chest and a set of keys. My firm is here to aid you in anyway possible. Don’t hesitate to call me day or night, were his last words before walking me to the elevators. His secretary waved goodbye to me. I had to take the phone off the hook. It just kept ringing. I was about to shake the chest. But I feared I might break what was inside. Past Christmas’s as a child suddenly flooded my mind. All of us shaking our gifts; each of us whispering and wondering. I unlocked the chest with the gold hued keys. Four or more sealed envelopes were setting on top of what appeared to be books. Each envelope was numbered in that bold English print. After I read the first letter, I began to feel a strange sadness for this woman who had just died.

The letter told of her devoted friendship and loyalty to my parents. She had also worked for my parents’ years before. I was staring at the letter as I read the next part. It stated that my mother had died in a mental institution for the criminally insane and that she had murdered my father. I couldn’t believe what I was reading! So I read it to myself again.

She went on to say that my new family the Goddard’s was actually good people and that they were doing as they were told. Why had they lied to me all of those years I kept asking myself? My mother and father died in a terrible car accident was the only story I ever heard. I had put the phone back on the hook earlier and it started ringing. It broke my concentration. Picking it up I heard the warm voice of the woman I knew as my mother. I could hear the stress in her voice. I wanted to ask her countless questions. But my mounting anger only forced the word, Why from my lips. Repeating it louder I waited for a response. There would be no answer, because I had hung the phone up violently. As it rung again I tore it from the wall and threw it crashing to the floor.

The second envelope contained a check for two million dollars and a round trip ticket to London. A letter was with it as well. A black and white picture of a mansion was included. The letter said that this is where I was born. You are a Gray. It is your birthright, your legacy be it right or wrong. At the time I wondered what she had meant by that statement. My eyes were transfixed by the eloquence of the picture. The third and final envelope briefly told me that one of the diaries was my mother’s, my great grandfather’s and that the last one would be for me. I placed all three of them on the table. I shrugged my shoulders and finished reading the letter. It said to carefully read the two diaries and then go to London. I didn’t understand the value of reading them.

I quickly flashed through my great grandfather’s diary first. He had chronicled his life in articulate detail. It was like reading one of those dramatic novels. Every word made me want to read more. I felt a connection although our lives were nothing alike. Within in two days I was on a plane to London. I had made peace with my adopted parents. They had done so much for me. How could I stay angry at them? I had visually digested and dissected my great grandfather’s diary. I was numb with all types of feelings. His decadent life style appealed and appalled me all at once. I wanted to embrace life as he had done and let no one stand in my way. He had wielded a great deal of influence in his day and he knew how to use it. Women were at his beck and call. He was a master of many things in life. His sincere generosity and his fierce vindictive ways were legend on every continent.

When the plane touched down there was a car at the airport waiting my arrival. I was beginning to feel like I was a movie star. Joan Crawford eat your heart out! The driver got out and introduced himself as Alex. He was from the law firm and he was about my age. He told me he had just recently relocated here from the states and that he would be handling my case. His manner was ease setting and he smiled a lot. He put my suitcase in the trunk. I kept the chest containing the diaries at my side as I had done on the plane. They were slowly becoming very important to me. I had Alex stop at this magnificent park. It was just as it was described in my mother’s diary. The spiral beds of peach and red colored roses were beautiful. Their fragrance perfumed the air. I lingered there for minutes before returning to the car.

I could see the mansion from the park. Alex agreed to give me a tour of London once I was settled in. We were nearing the mansion. I remembered how my mother talked of its flowing steps and then the grand door. It was just as she had said. Alex gave the keys to me as I got out and took in its splendor. Alex stayed at the car while I walked slowly up the white steps. I almost knocked on the door. He had marked the keys. Finding the right one I unlocked the door and pushed it open. The foyer was laid with Victorian black and white marble flooring with antique white walls. One large oval shaped table set by itself with a beautiful display of blood colored roses on it. To the right of the entrance you could walk into the living room. There was a gold and white theme throughout this beautiful collage. A chandelier was over the staircase like the one in the foyer.

My eyes fixed upon the giant empty space above the fireplace. Alex entered as I kept staring at that break in the flow of the room’s beauty. Turning I asked Alex what had he said. He repeated his words saying that he had called and talked to a Mrs. Winchild. He wondered where she was. At that moment we heard a song like sound. Is that you Mr. Tallis? Alex and I both went back into the foyer. An old woman with striking gray and white hair was coming down the hall with a tray in her hands. I’ll take that, Alex said.

Her eyes looked deep into mine. I believed I knew her or at one time I had. Welcome home, she said moving towards me. She hugged and then kissed me as if I were a child.

We have a lot to talk about. You have your father’s handsome looks, she commented holding onto one of my hands. I blushed and smiled. Alex followed us through the living room and out onto one of the terraces. You could look out onto the front lawn from this view. Your mother and I used to set out here and talk forever. That was so many years ago, she said with half a smile. I handed her a cup and a tear formed in her eye. I had so many questions that cried out in me for answers. So I started with a simple one. What was Mrs. Grace like, I asked. A blank expression tore across her face and she looked at me and then into the sky as she hesitated before she answered. "I didn’t know her that well. She worked for your mother very briefly. She went away so abruptly. Your mother was shocked. All of us were. Alex didn’t speak much. He just listened and smiled.

Mrs. Winchild’s warm smile returned when she politely eased back into the conversation about my parents and the wonderful old times. After awhile she excused herself to prepare dinner. I insisted Alex stay. I signed a stack of documents as he explained patiently what each one was. My mother and my father had set up trust funds for me separately. The accumulated balance made me a billionaire and them some. Their business holdings were here in London as well as stateside. I couldn’t believe anything I was hearing as Alex went on. I wouldn’t have to work another day in my life! My father also had a penthouse in New York and another mansion in California.

There were two dinning rooms. A smaller one for intimate gatherings and the grand one for the extravagant dinner parties and fabulous balls that no one in the city could match, Mrs. Winchild told us with pride. We dined in the smaller of the two rooms. Suddenly we all turned as we heard a loud crashing sound. Going into the living room we found a brick covered with what appeared to be blood. Mrs. Winchild didn’t seem to be bothered at all.

She left us and came back with a broom and a dustpan. I ran outside. Looking around carefully I returned to the mansion. Alex was sweeping up the glass. I wanted to call the police. But somehow I let Mrs. Winchild talk me out of it. We finished our lovely meal with no other intermissions.

Mrs. Winchild had gone to bed and Alex had left hours ago. I walked through the dark halls of the mansion. I still couldn’t believe this was all mine. I had finished a couple of pages in my mother’s diary. Her writing lacked the creative flow as my great grandfathers’. She talked about one particular room on one of the floors. Her portrait was the one missing in the space above the fireplace. I figured it was in this room along with the portrait of great grandfather’s. At least his was supposed to be in here according to her diary. I was a little anxious as I twisted the key in the lock. Stepping into the dark room I felt along the wall for a light switch. I adjusted my eyes to the sudden light and began to look around. I saw two large covered aisles against the wall. I pulled the black tarp off the first one. It was nothing there and then I pulled off the second one and it was the same. It was too late to awaken Mrs. Winchild. I would ask her about them later.

I awakened the next morning to the aroma of sizzling country bacon and scrambled eggs. There were also home fries, cheese grits and blueberry pancakes. I had fallen to sleep with my mother’s diary. Taking a quick shower I put on my robe and went downstairs. My mind kept wondering about those portraits. Mrs. Winchild’s melodic singing seemed to fill the entire mansion. Stopping in the foyer I looked at the broom and dustpan. More window panes had been broken out. Going into the kitchen I greeted Mrs. Winchild. She quickly sensed my agitation. Good morning, she said. Helping her with the food we went into the dining room.

She blessed the food and passed me the pancakes. Thank you, I said setting them down. I’ll call the police later. Don’t bother with that it will stop very soon.

So this has been a constant situation, I said getting loud. Apologizing for my rude tone I waited for her answer. Yes, it started just before your arrival. I am used to it. She was so calm and her smile was genuine. You eat up baby. I am going to fatten you up just a little bit. I changed the subject so I wouldn’t stay mad. Little did I know I should’ve stayed on that subject! I checked the first room on the third floor. She stopped drinking her coffee and looked at me oddly. Her smile wasn’t gone yet. I guess you were probably looking for some blankets. It gets cold in this place sometimes.

I should’ve told you where the silk comforters and cashmere blankets are kept. Remind me to show them to you, she said passing me the plate of bacon. The warm smile was still there. No, I was actually looking for the portraits of my mother and grandfather.

The smile was gone and then it returned so fast that I had barely known it had left her face at all. Your mother did have a portrait of herself painted many years ago. But it was destroyed in a fire just before the reconstruction of the third wing. I never knew a portrait of your great grandfather ever existed. Her hand shook as she finished her coffee. I know that dinner is so far off. But what would you like? I have to go shopping for a few things. I don’t’ want you fussing over me. It’s no fuss, when it’s family. We cleared the dishes away. She allowed me to stay in her kitchen as she playfully called it.

Sit there and don’t touch a thing, she said, giving me a tall crystal glass full of apple juice. Your mother loved freshly squeezed juice just like that. Tell me about my mother. What led her to kill my father? Gasping she dropped a plate and grasped the counter to support herself. Stepping on the broken china I helped her to a seat. I hadn’t meant to upset her. I didn’t know you knew about your mother or the room on the third floor? Who told you? She breathed slowly. I explained to her that Mrs. Grace had left me a number of letters. I never mentioned the two diaries to her. Something in me held back that intricate information. I would realize the folly of that decision to soon and too well; a decision that would change our lives together.

I’ll tell you everything about the unfortunate incidents that preceded your father’s death. But I can’t discus it right now, she told me in a soft voice. I could tell that she was hurting and this wasn’t my intention. I sincerely apologized and she acted as if everything was fine. I offered to go shopping with her. But she insisted I stay home and relax. I soon found myself all alone with my thoughts. I roamed through my set of keys until I located the one marked study. It was a long silver toned stick of a key. The large door was hard to open and the room was very big. It looked as if it had been preserved or frozen in time. I looked at the mounted bookcases that covered each wall. For a brief minute I felt as if I were intruding or I was somewhere that I didn’t belong.

There were hundreds and hundreds of leather bound books. Each case had glass doors. My mother had expressed that this room was her favorite. Gazing over the books far reaching topics I understood why. A section was devoted to the God’s of Egypt. Another wall covered religion. Another was books on ancient civilizations. I set down at the desk as my father must have done a thousand times. I looked slowly in the drawers. I could hear a faint crashing sound. Locking the door behind me I ran as fast as I could following the sound. Falling a few feet in front of the door I got up and slung it open. I ran down the stone steps. I cussed as I looked around hoping to find someone. Going back inside I slammed the door. I swept up the glass and started towards the phone. I was going to call the police. I didn’t care what Mrs. Winchild said.

The phone began to ring. Picking it up I heard Alex’s voice at the other end. He asked had I slept well and asked me about the tour he had spoken of yesterday. Setting a time I hung up the phone. That afternoon as Alex and I were pulling into the shopping district I noticed the ring on his finger. I hadn’t noticed it before. He was very knowledgeable of the city. I wanted Mrs. Winchild to come along. But she wanted to stay at the mansion and make me a surprise meal. The malls made me feel at home as I bought some items to send back to my parents in the states. Alex had also done some shopping and took all of our bags back to his car. Waiting for him, I thought about the gift that I had gotten Mrs. Winchild. Before I realized it, I was in a gallery checking out sculptures and pictures. Art had been my major in college. I was drawn to this stack of framed pictures setting on the floor. Going through them I came upon this painting of the mansion.

It was done in the Impressionist style of painting with a gothic flare to it. The black and white painting was mesmerizing. I had to buy it. The cashier assured me that it was only one of two done by this particular artist. She told me that the Gray mansion was considered one of the great architectural structures of the city. She also told me more paintings and photos of the mansion could probably be found at the Hallward & Wooten Galleries across town. Alex came in as I was paying for it. By this time it had been wrapped. Taking it from me, we exited the mall. The cashier’s mentioning of the Hallward & Wooten Galleries made me remember the card I had seen on the desk in the study. Our ride back to the mansion seemed shorter and Alex had received a phone call as we were heading home. He couldn’t stay for dinner due to a business appointment.

From the foyer I could hear him drive off. Running upstairs to my bedroom I noticed the door was slightly closed. Pushing it open I deposited my shopping bags at the foot of my bed. Going back downstairs I brought up the remainder of my bounty. I was looking through my bags and I looked at my suitcase. It was on the bed with the lid open and I had left it in the chair with it shut. I was certain of that. Checking through it I found an empty chest. Knocking the chair over I ran downstairs, my anger growing as I skipped every other step. How could she have done that? What gave her the right? I couldn’t believe it as I came into the kitchen. I looked at her angelic like face as she was picking peas from their shell. She looked tired but content. Gazing up at me she smiled and took the pot of peas to the sink. I have a honey baked ham and candied yams in the oven, she said.

Mrs. Winchild you have been in my suitcase! I want what you took out of it. And I want to know what gives you the right to do that? She dropped the pot in the sink and turned to face me. I’ll tell you what gives me the right! My family has served your family for many years! I saw your mother dragged away; crazy out of her mind. Your father sprawled dead across their bedroom floor covered in his own blood! Rachelle Linton Grace was nothing but a whore! I won’t watch you go through what they went through. I wont’ allow it, she said pointing at the ashes on the floor. The blank diary was next to it. She walked out of the kitchen. I ate alone that night.

I woke up the next morning. But it wasn’t to the smell of one of Mrs. Winchild’s delicious breakfast. It was to the crashing sound of glass. Putting on my robe I headed downstairs. It seemed like last evening was an awful dream. Getting a dustpan and broom, I swept up the glass. Mrs. Winchild must have still been asleep after the night we had had. I was no longer mad. Just somewhat bewildered and needing answers to a lot of questions. My eyes automatically fixed upon the note or should I say letter that was fastened to the refrigerator? Setting down I read it slowly.

"I am truly sorry. I thought you had been protected from all of this. The first time you made me aware of what you knew; I realized it had already begun. You asked about a woman who brought nothing but pain and suffering to this family. Rachelle Linton Grace helped drive your beautiful mother to insanity! Rachelle was a worthless whore who drove your parents apart and I am sincerely glad she is dead!

So I had to burn your mother’s diary. Hopefully I have spared you some pain. I can’t and won’t watch you go down the same road. I can’t go through it again. That is the reason why I must leave."

Finishing the letter I ran upstairs yelling her name. I came to the realization that she was really gone, after I checked her room and all of the adjacent rooms. She had left me all alone. Heading back downstairs I wondered why all of this was happening. I must have fallen asleep in the living room. Waking up I went upstairs, took a shower and got dressed. I looked at the letter again and put it in my suitcase. I didn’t want to bother Alex with any of this right now. I remembered him saying something about a car in the garage. Getting my keys I went outside and checked. There were two cars there. I got in the Mercedes Benz and drove it out of the garage. I stopped at the park and set out there for a minute or so and then I drove off. I still couldn’t believe Mrs. Winchild. But there wasn’t anything that I could do to repair the damage.

I ended up at the mall. I did more shopping and I left a voice message for Alex.

I stopped by a florist and got some roses, hoping that this would kind of smooth things over with Mrs. Winchild if she had calmed down and returned. I ran into the silent structure and was only greeted by the less disturbing sight of the broken glass in the living room. I thought maybe she would eventually return. Later that night I heard a knocking at the door and I hurried down the flight of stairs in hope that Mrs. Winchild had finally returned. I called her name as I quickly opened the door. It wasn’t her. Instead this tall man with a salt and pepper moustache, that matched his hair stood glaring at me. He embraced me with a bear hug and said, Welcome home Master Daniel.

I was still hoping in my mind that she was somewhere in the distance as he moved away and studied me from head to toe. You have turned out to be a handsome young stallion just like your father was. You knew my father, I asked staring at him. Yes, I knew both of your parents. I am Lawrence Dresden. I ushered him in and closed the door. He had a duffle bag over his shoulder and a grin that could charm a snake. He stopped in the foyer and waited for me. His eyes seemed to be on the look out for something or someone. After a couple of seconds he walked with me into the living room. I used to work for your father. But that was many years ago. We had some good times. Your parents were two of the greatest people that God set forth on this Earth. He hesitated, before he asked about Mrs. Winchild.

She no longer works here. But I hope she will come back. His eyes fell down to the floor before returning to mine. Believe it or not you are better off without her. I never understood how your parents put up with her as long as they did. I looked at him oddly. I wanted to know more.

All I got to say is you got rid of her just in time. What do you mean by that? I can’t take anything away from her in regard to cooking and helping to run your parents household. She just put her two cents in where it wasn’t needed or wanted. She was the reason I had to quit. But I don’t want to get into all of that old mess. Tell me what has she told you about your parents and I will correct or fill in what I know or remember, he said smiling and laughing.

He took out an old photo album and gave it to me. He also took out a bottle of gin and a small glass. You check that out while I get you a glass and us some ice. I think I remember where everything is. The photo album took up most of our time that night and I never got around to discussing anything about what Mrs. Winchild had left in her embittered parting letter. He never said another word about her and neither did I.

I wasn’t sure how our conversation had ended. I barely remember walking up the stairs with the photo album under my arm. The next morning when I woke up the album was on the dresser and I had a small hangover. I think I offered him a job or maybe I was thinking about the loss of Mrs. Winchild. He confirmed the former when he knocked on my door and then came in with a tray of food. I thought you would still be sleeping after our two bottles of gin and that Vodka you got from the cellar.

He laughed and waited for me to set up in bed. Putting the tray down in my lap he assured me, he was about his business. Don’t you worry about a thing, Master Daniel. I will take care of you just like I used to take care of your father. Do you want me to run you a hot shower or a hot bath? Your father used to take two a day. No, Lawrence I can take care of that. I want to talk to you later; more about my parents, if that is all right with you. Of course, I will be more than happy to continue that whenever you are ready. Now, if all is okay with you, I am headed out back to cut some wood for the fireplace in here and for the one in the living room. Thank you, I said to him and he smiled at me before he left the room. I had some of the home fries and some orange juice before I lay back down. I fell into a deep sleep and the next thing I remember was hearing footsteps coming towards my door as the phone began to ring. I woke up, slowly.

I’ll get it Lawrence, I yelled. Picking up the phone I was happy to hear Alex’s voice. He had some more business papers for me to sign. He would be over in a little while. I was getting ready to call for Lawrence. But instead I got out of bed and went into the hall. I could hear his voice.

I guessed he must have been on the phone and he was obviously very upset with whomever he was talking to judging by his loud tone. As I came into view he quickly ended the conversation and looked at me with a smile.

I am so sorry, he said. No problem. My lawyer is coming over in about an hour. Can you whip up a brunch or is there a catering service that I can call? I forgot to tell you last night that I am a jack of all trades. I can handle that and I’ll take out two bottles of mimosa and put it on ice. Thank you, I said heading back to my bed room. It was a little before noon and I could smell the brunch that Lawrence had prepared. I had taken some time to explore more of the mansion. I noticed some of the doors to the rooms on the third floor were locked. I didn’t want to bother Lawrence, so I looked around in the living room and in the study hoping that I would find a complete set of extra keys. I was going through the desk again as I heard Lawrence letting Alex in. I jumped as the phone buzzed beside me. Picking it up I answered. Yes, I’ll be right there.

I went back to my room and I saw that the bed room had been cleaned and vases of flowers were on the dresser and one of the end tables. As an adult I wasn’t used to anyone cleaning up behind me. I gathered my notes that I had jotted down so that I wouldn’t forget what I needed to cover with Alex. I wanted to talk to him alone so I made up a list of groceries and other task that would keep Lawrence busy for awhile. I smiled and went into the living room. Alex shook my hand and returned my smile. I hope you haven’t eaten yet. Lawrence prepared us a brunch in the smaller dining room. This way, I think, I said laughing. It is, he said showing me. Is Mrs. Winchild off somewhere shopping? No, she quit. Really, he said in a shocked tone.

But I am okay. Lawrence used to work here and he is doing a wonderful job. Let me know if you need me to hire some more help. Here’s Lawrence. He was pushing a serving cart filled with a miniature buffet. He had also provided us with a choice selection of liquors besides the mimosa. I happily introduced him to Alex.

A pleasure to meet you sir, he said. Lawrence, I have a list of groceries that I want you to pick up. I was going to ask you about that Master Daniel. I will just compare it with the one that I made this morning and go from there. I will take care of this after your meeting if that is sufficient? We will be okay. I want you to go into town right now, because as you see there are other tasks on here and they may take up a lot of your time. Alright, I’ll take care of this right away. It won’t take me long. Take your time Lawrence. I watched him disappear down the hall. But I waited until I heard him leave out the front door before I said a word. I am sure Alex noticed this as he fixed himself a plate of food. You seem to be in good hands with Lawrence. But I wonder why Mrs. Winchild quit? I’ll discuss it with you someday. But right now I am more interested in this. I gave him the card that had been in the study.

I went by this art gallery yesterday inquiring about some pictures of the mansion. Your mother and father owned part of that gallery and therefore, you now own part of it. Your great grandfather initially went into business with the other two owners and so it was passed on. Before your father’s death he had kept it afloat even though it was losing money. In the last twenty years or so it has turned a pretty good profit. I smiled as I listened. Before and since your mother’s death there has been various offers by major art houses originating in New York to buy the gallery. I thought you maybe interested in seeing the most recent offers. They arrived a week before you did. I value your opinion Alex, so what do you think I should do with the gallery?

I had the entire inventory compiled in this folder. I remember you told me you liked the Impressionist period of painting. The gallery has some of the rarest and finest of that period. I am not an expert in this field. But I would hold onto the gallery. My thoughts exactly, I said looking over the papers that he had just handed me. I am just curious what did you find under portraits?

Oh, that is on page five, he said leaning over me. I skimmed down the page hoping to find either my mother’s name or my great grandfather’s listed somewhere. They weren’t there. His cell phone began to ring and he excused himself as he walked over to the window. Yeah, I will bring that home. I didn’t forget about it. Am I holding you up," I asked.

No, my wife just reminded me of a few things that I needed to pick up. If you would like I could call Lawrence and have him add them to my shopping list. He won’t mind. For real, that would save me a lot of time. Besides I wanted to go over all of this with you, before I left and have you sign these documents. That way I can get all of this into the mail before the ending of the day and save the both of us some time. Fix yourself another plate. I can’t possibly eat all of this anyway and I’ll give Lawrence a call. I pulled out my cell phone and he went to get some more food. By the time Lawrence had gotten back, Alex and I were walking through the backyards of the mansion. He had showed me the covered pool and let me know of its once grand state. It had fallen into a little ill repair and needed some work. Other than that, the rest of the grounds were beautiful. Rose bushes that ascended over six feet high fragranced the air.

A small wading pool framed with all sorts of equally fragranced flowers and plants had been kept up over the years. I could imagine the magnificent parties that must have been held there all those years ago. He said I should get settled and decide later what to do with the pool. He told me it would cost a nice piece of change to have it remodeled and he gave me the estimates that he had gathered from three of the top professionals in that field.

Both of us had broken the seal from off a 5th of some type of imported Vodka and we were sipping on that as we walked the grounds. I had to talk him into it. Like everyone, he was more relaxed with a drink. We were having such a great time, just walking around that I had forgotten to show him the letter that Mrs. Winchild had left me and I don’t know why, but I didn’t discuss the details of the portraits with him. He explained to me in actuality there were a series of galleries worldwide that would fall under part ownership. He would accumulate the necessary information before the week was out.

When we got back to the mansion Lawrence was waiting with a new bottle and some finger sandwiches. That’s what he called them. I could see that Alex was really enjoying himself. But ever so often he would look at his watch. He had placed his cell phone on vibrate. Finally, he got himself ready to leave. Of course I wouldn’t dare let him drive home in his present state. I told him that Lawrence would take him home and that he could pick up his car tomorrow.

Hesitantly he agreed. He shook my hand and surprised me with a hug before he and Lawrence were out the door. I was in the kitchen when I heard the front door open. It’s me, Master Daniel. I almost forgot about his groceries. I’ll be right back. Cool, then we can finish up this bottle of Vodka, I remember saying as he hurried back out the door. Alex was a pretty cool dude and I believed at the time, that he would turn out to be a very good friend. I washed up the few dishes and made myself a drink while I waited for Lawrence to return. The phone began to ring and I walked over to get it and it stopped. As I walked away it started up again. This time I ran to get it and answered. No one answered back, so I hung up. Lawrence had returned by my third drink. Okay, I am a slow drinker. I always chase my drinks with usually a dark soda. Lawrence drank his straight or with a little water. Did you know Coke and Vodka is called a black bitch?

I hope that I didn’t take too long. Oh, no you are just in time. I am getting ready to pour another drink. I still can’t believe all of this is mine. It’s like I am in a dream. I wasn’t poor. But I wasn’t filthy rich either. This is your destiny, Master Daniel. This and a whole lot more. I just looked at him, partially hearing what he was saying. I need to ask you about something, I said going into the living room. What happened to the portrait of my mother that was over this fireplace? He walked in and set our drinks down. You know about her portrait? Yes, it was mentioned in my mother’s diary. Mrs. Winchild went through my things and burned it! She also burned my grandfather’s as well. She left me a letter rambling on about how she couldn’t go through all of this again and that is the reason she quit! What was she talking about?

I don’t know. I was gone before then. I think she was blackmailing your parents. I didn’t want to say anything about it. Because it was just a rumor I heard among many others in regard to Mrs. Winchild. Did she have anything to do with my mother’s killing of my father? He looked at me sincerely as he set down and told me that he believed she was the reason both of them were dead and that he was truly sorry that he couldn’t have prevented her from doing it. I found myself welling up with tears as he held back his. I couldn’t believe what he had just said. Mrs. Winchild was responsible for both of my parent’s deaths, that little sweet, old lady?

All I could do was set down and finish my drink. I had heard enough for one night. I am going to take a walk and get some air, were my next words. He walked me to the door and kept it open until I was out of his sight. I am not sure how long I was out there that night. It started to rain and I remember Lawrence coming to get me. I was in the park under a large oak tree, just sitting there. The rain looked so peaceful falling through the branches. It masked my tears from even myself.

When I got up the next morning it was not to the hangover that I was expecting. I was wrapped in comforters and I could hear the water running in the bath tub. Untangling myself I could see that I was naked. Good morning, Master Daniel. You gave me a time last night getting you back here. But we made it. Here is some soup and once you soak a bit in that tub, you should be good as new. That will ward off the coming effects of sitting out in that rain. Thanks, Lawrence have I had any calls? "Yes, Mr. Alex called. I could tell he was getting over his hangover. You also had a couple of international long distance calls.

I wrote the names and messages down and put them in the study. Last evening I had a friend of mine follow in Mr. Alex’s car. He was calling to thank you for that. I told him that you were still sleeping. I’ll check your bath. Along with the mail, you received a rather large box. Do you want it brought up here? No, do me a favor and put all of it in the study. I didn’t think it would get here so fast. After I take my bath I’ll open it. I have something for you, he said. He handed me my great grandfather’s diary. My mouth opened in surprise. I thought Mrs. Winchild had burned it along with my mother’s. I found it hidden in her room. What do you want me to do with the few clothes and other things that she left in there?"

Throw all of it away, I said angrily. Then I thought about what I had blurted out. Lawrence, box all of it up and I will have Alex forward it to her.

I remember sleeping in most of the day. When I finally came downstairs I could hear Lawrence having one of those calls again. This time I stopped briefly to listen. From what I could make out, it definitely had to do with money. Going into the study I closed the door and pulled the large box over toward the middle of the floor. I smiled as I tore the paper from off of it. The box contained my stereo system and my collection of cds. I sifted through them to make sure everything was there. Music had always been a great part of my life. I loved it all, from Chopin’s nocturnes to some gangsta rap. My cds were spread all over the grand oriental tapestry rug that covered part of the mahogany stained floor. I could hear Lawrence’s footsteps on the other side of the door and I was getting ready to call him. Then I heard this whining noise, like a baby. I moved closer to one of the wall grates and I listened carefully. It sounded like the whimper of a cat or was it cats?

I went into the hallway and called Lawrence. He didn’t answer, so I figured he must be in another part of the mansion or either outside. When I returned to the study, the sound had stopped. So I went back to work on putting up my system. I knew the music would be awesome with the acoustics in this old place. It would be hours before Lawrence would return. I had fixed me some food and then got me a bottle of cognac and went down memory lane with the music taking me all the way there. I could tell that he had returned because the smell of whatever he was cooking had flowed into the study and teased my senses. He was in the kitchen humming along with my music as he made biscuits from scratch. I stood in silence as he checked a roast and stirred a pot on the stove. I wonder had he known that I was there all the time.

Because when he turned to glance at me, he just smiled. Come here, Master Daniel and taste this gravy that I am making for the cheese and pilaf rice.

He put the spoon up to my lips and I tasted a delicious spicy orange broth. I shook my head and he put the lid back on the pot and turned the fire down to a simmer. Earlier I heard what sounded like cat noises from the wall grates. They used to get in the attic and somehow travel through the walls. Your mother didn’t mind them. I’ll see if I can find out how they are getting in here this time and seal it up. He was rocking his head to the music and it looked comical.

He stopped once he noticed I was staring at him. Lawrence, I am not trying to get into your personal business. But if you ever need my help, I hope that you know that you can come to me. I really appreciate that sir. It is good to know. But I have everything under control.

I returned to the study and my music. Later that night I awakened to that catlike cry. It sounded like it was in the bedroom with me. I wanted Lawrence to hear it, so I hurried out into the hallway and ran down to his room and knocked on the door. It was slightly open, so I went in. His bed was made up. Coming out I leaned over the banister and yelled for him. Perhaps he wasn’t in the house and that was why he didn’t answer me. I ran back to my room and listened for the sounds again.

They were much louder. I moved the heavy canopy bed as much as I could and put my ear down to the wall grate. The sounds had ended. After pushing the bed back into its position I got in it and tried to go to sleep. I was puzzled and wondered where Lawrence was. Getting my watch off of the dresser I checked the time.

I was up early the next morning. I went down to the study and decided to open that old mail. One of the card like envelopes was large and it appeared to have been opened and then resealed. It was an invitation to some type of ball or something. It needed to be R.S.V.P. as soon as possible. Maybe Lawrence knew who it was from. I heard a door shut and footsteps in the hallway. It must have been Lawrence.

He was always shopping for something or the other and that was fine with me. I’d rather have too much of everything, than not enough. I opened a letter from my parents, the Goddards. They were thanking me for the money that I had gifted them.

I opened another letter and this one brought a partial frown to my face. It was from there son, Earl. My so called brother, after I read it, I threw it in the trash where it belonged.

I answered the phone on the second ring. This is Daniel Goddard. No, Mrs. Tallis, Alex isn’t here. If he stops by, I will have him call you. I look forward to meeting you one day as well. Bye-bye. As I hung the phone up I wondered was he on his way over. We didn’t have any business to attend to that I could recall. Maybe she was mistaken when he told her, that he was going to see me. Hunching my shoulders I finished going through the mail and put on another cd. I got up and went to the window as the music echoed throughout the large study. Pulling the curtain back I could