| Mystery and Crime Fiction posted March 26, 2024 | Chapters: |
1 2 -3- 4... 
|
  |
Sandra makes a discovery
A chapter in the book The Unwilling Heir
The Unwilling Heir - 3
by Begin Again
END OF CHAPTER 2
"Don't be silly! There's no such thing as ghosts," she reassured herself, but the thought lingered.
As she turned to wave goodbye, Sandra's eyes widened in surprise when she saw everyone had disappeared. She scanned the cemetery, but the only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the wind and two squirrels dashing across the grass.
"That's strange. Where did they go?"
Suddenly, she felt herself falling, and then she didn't.
"Gotcha."
Was that a voice?
Sandra's eyes widened as she looked around again. Her voice cracked. "Is someone there?"
When no one answered, she laughed. "It's a cemetery, Sandra. Dead people don't talk."
She saw the tipped-over headstone covered in moss and felt foolish. Boo!
She shook her head, muttering, "It's time to go home."
Her steps quickened as she hurried to her car, her heart still pounding. Inside the car, she stared out the window toward the garden, her head filled with unanswered questions.
As she drove through the iron gates, she mumbled, "There's no such thing as ghosts!"
*****
CHAPTER 3
"Annie, were you able to find a telephone number for Judge Parker? I think his first name was William." Sandra called her assistant in the outer office.
"I tried but couldn't find a listing. Are you sure about his name?"
"I met the guy at a funeral." Sandra shrugged. "I'm usually good at remembering names, but —"
"A funeral? I can't get you to date any of the guys I know, and now you hook up with a guy at a funeral. Tell me you're kidding," Annie exclaimed.
"Hookup? Oh, heavens, no, Annie." Sandra laughed at her assistant. "You won't believe it, but I inherited a mansion, a Victorian house in Willow Creek, from a stranger."
"A stranger left you a house?" Annie was skeptical. "That's so strange. Do you think it's legit?"
"I don't know what to think. There's a mysterious story behind it," Sandra replied, her tone thoughtful.
"So, the bloodhound is on the hunt, right?" Annie chuckled.
"For a story, maybe. Not a man." Sandra sighed. "I'm not sure if I should accept it. What would I do with a house in the countryside?"
"Live in it! Have you seen it? What's it like?"
"I've not seen it. I was supposed to go back today for a tour, and I even got the okay from Les."
"Then what's the holdup?" Annie giggled. "I'd be packed and out of here. You deserve some time off."
"I don't know. Something doesn't feel right. So, I've decided to talk to Judge Parker again." Sandra rummaged through a stack of papers. "Aha! This is the envelope the letter came in. There is no phone number, of course, but the office is at 1422 Marion. Why does that sound familiar?"
"Because the new Italian restaurant that we've been talking about is at 1425 Marion. It's only five blocks from here."
Smiling, Sandra turned to Annie and made her an offer she couldn't refuse. "If you cover my calls, I'll bring you back cannoli." She winked.
"Cannoli! "Annie squealed. "Go, get out of here."
And with that, Sandra stepped out into the sunshine, determined to uncover the secret of Willow Creek.
*****
Standing inside 1422 Marion, Sandra was having second thoughts.
What am I doing? Maybe this has all been a hoax. Everything is so strange. The widow! And those guys in the garden. At least James seemed normal and, of course, sweet Lorrie.
Sandra stared at the elevator as the doors slowly opened.
Do I go or not?
A bell rang, and the doors began to close. Sandra placed her hands in the opening, stopping them. She took a deep breath and stepped inside, leaning against the wall. She was still uncertain what she would say to the Judge or if he would share anything with her.
The elevator creaked and groaned as it slowly ascended to the third floor. Finally, the doors opened, and she entered a dimly lit hallway on the third floor. The hallway was long and narrow, and the walls were painted dull beige. Unlike the busy corridors in her building, it was quiet. An arrow on the wall indicated that Suite 303 was located down the hall to her left.
Sandra hurried past each office, scanning the numbers on the doors as she went. As she passed Suite 301, she again wondered what she would say to the judge and if it would convince her to take the mansion.
"Come on, Judge. Where are you?" she muttered quietly under her breath.
Passing a few unmarked doors, she finally arrived outside Suite 303. She was relieved to see William Parker — Judge written on the door. But her excitement was short-lived when she saw the 'For Rent' sign hanging near the door. A wave of disbelief washed over her.
Surprised, Sandra spoke out loud. "This can't be!"
A young woman with a janitorial cart appeared behind her as if on cue. "Were you interested in looking at the office?" she asked in a friendly tone. "I've got the keys if you want to take a look. It needs some cleaning, but it's got a nice view. The Judge always loved the city skyline, especially at night."
"The Judge. You know him?"
The young woman looked confused. "Know Judge Parker? I did."
"Great! Maybe you can tell me where he moved his offices to." Sandra held her breath, waiting for an answer. "It would save me some time."
"You want to know where Judge Parker's offices are?"
"Yes, I received a letter from him a few days ago with this address. I need to reach him."
"I'm sorry, but you must be mistaken. Judge Parker is dead."
Sandra swallowed. "Dead! No, he can't be! I met him and his friends at Noah Wakefield's funeral in Willow Creek just a few days ago."
The woman smiled. "Sure sounds like the Judge. He loved to visit Mr. Wakefield. But it just couldn't have been him."
"You're sure he died?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am. He was working late, and someone came in and shot him through the heart. I went in to clean his office and found him. There was blood everywhere. Sure enough, he was dead, a hole in the middle of his chest. You can bet I got out of there, fast!"
"When was that?"
"Let's see. The Judge died in the spring of last year, so I guess it's been almost a year."
"A year?" A chill ran down Sandra's spine. "Do you mind if I look around?"
"You go ahead. I prefer not to go in there if you don't mind. I'll be cleaning the offices across the hall so I can lock up after you leave."
"Thank you. I won't be long." Sandra peered through the door. Some of the office furniture was covered with sheets and a layer of dust and cobwebs. Unconsciously, she put on her imaginary crime reporter hat and entered the office.
So, Judge Parker, someone put a bullet hole through your chest, and you're dead. Why? Were they looking for something? And who's the man impersonating you?
She walked around the office, noting the scattered papers on the desk and the empty bookshelves lining the walls.
A faded photo caught her eye as she rifled through the papers on the desk. A younger version of the man she had met at Noah Wakefield's funeral stared at her. It was a picture of the Judge with his family — his wife, two daughters, and a golden retriever sitting at their feet.
You look happy. So, what's your story? Someone wanted you dead, but why?
Lost in thought, Sandra jumped in surprise when she heard a creaking sound from the bookshelves. A panel was ajar. Sandra touched it, and it opened, revealing a secret compartment.
Oh! What do we have here, Judge?
Cautiously, Sandra peered inside. At first, it looked like a stack of old journals and papers.
Sandra pulled them out and glanced at each one.
Nothing interesting here.
Disappointed in her discovery, she restacked them and started to put them back where she'd found them, but —"
What's this?
Deeper inside the compartment, she could see something else. She reached inside. Her fingers gripped a leather-bound book of some kind. She pulled out the book and blew off the dust, revealing the title. She gasped.
The Secret Life of Judge Parker. Now we're getting somewhere.
Intrigued, Sandra opened the book and began to read. The pages were filled with entries detailing the Judge's dealings with the criminal underworld, his involvement in shady business deals, and his corrupt practices within the legal system. Sandra's eyes widened as she realized the man once respected as a pillar of the community was nothing more than a criminal in a judge's robe.
Guess someone felt you were a threat because you knew too much.
As she continued to read, Sandra heard footsteps approaching from the outer office. Panicking, she quickly closed the book and stuffed it into her bag. She turned to see a man standing in the doorway.
"What do you think you're doing?" the man demanded, his voice laced with anger.
Sandra froze, her heart pounding in her throat. "Umm, the cleaning lady —she said it was okay."
"Well, it's not unless I say so."
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't realize," Sandra stammered, her hands shaking slightly as she tried to compose herself.
The man stepped further into the room, the badge on his belt catching the light and gleaming brightly. She felt the intensity of his gaze as he stared at her.
"The space is for rent. I was taking a quick peek. I meant no harm."
"That's no excuse for trespassing in a restricted area," the man snapped, his tone harsh and accusatory. "You're not supposed to be in here without permission."
"The cleaning lady said it was okay," Sandra repeated.
The man's expression softened slightly, and he stepped further into the judge's office, glancing around the room. "Sorry. The Judge was a friend of mine. It still bothers me when I see someone else in here."
Sandra smiled, "I understand. I lost someone a few years ago, and I still haven't fully recovered."
"I think if they'd caught his murderer, I might feel a little better. Maybe someday." He looked around the room, abruptly adding, "Be sure someone locks up. Have a nice evening."
Sandra watched as he left the room, a nagging feeling of unease returning to her stomach. She shivered, knowing she'd stumbled upon something she shouldn't have, which could have serious repercussions if she weren't careful. Her legs were trembling, and she collapsed into the office chair.
Okay, Sandra, admit you were scared. No, not me. Well, just a little, I suppose, but that's because he surprised me. Now, the real question is, why did a man with a badge have a corrupt judge as his friend and a good friend, it seems? And what does the mansion have to do with any of it? Then, of course, the guy in Willow Creek is also impersonating him. Who is he?
Sandra spun the chair around toward the window and looked out at the city skyline, still struggling with what she'd learned today and at the funeral.
Judge William Parker is liked by many, it appears, yet the book says something totally different about you. A double life? I can't help wondering what thoughts went through your head when you sat and looked out this window. Was it crime and justice or just crime?
Sandra took a final look as she left the office. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was now entangled in a dangerous web of deceit and corruption. She knew that if she wanted to uncover the truth behind the Judge's death, she would have to be prepared to face the consequences —no matter how dire they may be.
I've got to go back to the mansion.
*****
As she stepped out into the street, a sharp gust of wind whipped at her hair and clothes, but she barely registered the chill. The sun was gone, and so was her carefree mood. She couldn't stop thinking about the Judge and the strange events of the past few days that had turned her world upside down. She hurried across the street to buy the promised cannoli for Annie while a whirlwind of thoughts swirled inside her head. She could feel her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
*****
With the promised purchase in hand, Sandra headed for her office building. Something, a noise, made her stop and turn back toward the Judge's building.
Were those footsteps?
She didn't see anyone, but she quickened her steps until she neared her office. She had inherited a mansion from a stranger, a man she had never met, and his wife had accused her of being his mistress. And now, on top of it all, she had discovered that she had spoken to a man who supposedly was dead. It was a mystery that demanded to be solved, and Sandra was determined to do just that.
END OF CHAPTER 2
"Don't be silly! There's no such thing as ghosts," she reassured herself, but the thought lingered.
As she turned to wave goodbye, Sandra's eyes widened in surprise when she saw everyone had disappeared. She scanned the cemetery, but the only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the wind and two squirrels dashing across the grass.
"That's strange. Where did they go?"
Suddenly, she felt herself falling, and then she didn't.
"Gotcha."
Was that a voice?
Sandra's eyes widened as she looked around again. Her voice cracked. "Is someone there?"
When no one answered, she laughed. "It's a cemetery, Sandra. Dead people don't talk."
She saw the tipped-over headstone covered in moss and felt foolish. Boo!
She shook her head, muttering, "It's time to go home."
Her steps quickened as she hurried to her car, her heart still pounding. Inside the car, she stared out the window toward the garden, her head filled with unanswered questions.
As she drove through the iron gates, she mumbled, "There's no such thing as ghosts!"
*****
CHAPTER 3
"Annie, were you able to find a telephone number for Judge Parker? I think his first name was William." Sandra called her assistant in the outer office.
"I tried but couldn't find a listing. Are you sure about his name?"
"I met the guy at a funeral." Sandra shrugged. "I'm usually good at remembering names, but —"
"A funeral? I can't get you to date any of the guys I know, and now you hook up with a guy at a funeral. Tell me you're kidding," Annie exclaimed.
"Hookup? Oh, heavens, no, Annie." Sandra laughed at her assistant. "You won't believe it, but I inherited a mansion, a Victorian house in Willow Creek, from a stranger."
"A stranger left you a house?" Annie was skeptical. "That's so strange. Do you think it's legit?"
"I don't know what to think. There's a mysterious story behind it," Sandra replied, her tone thoughtful.
"So, the bloodhound is on the hunt, right?" Annie chuckled.
"For a story, maybe. Not a man." Sandra sighed. "I'm not sure if I should accept it. What would I do with a house in the countryside?"
"Live in it! Have you seen it? What's it like?"
"I've not seen it. I was supposed to go back today for a tour, and I even got the okay from Les."
"Then what's the holdup?" Annie giggled. "I'd be packed and out of here. You deserve some time off."
"I don't know. Something doesn't feel right. So, I've decided to talk to Judge Parker again." Sandra rummaged through a stack of papers. "Aha! This is the envelope the letter came in. There is no phone number, of course, but the office is at 1422 Marion. Why does that sound familiar?"
"Because the new Italian restaurant that we've been talking about is at 1425 Marion. It's only five blocks from here."
Smiling, Sandra turned to Annie and made her an offer she couldn't refuse. "If you cover my calls, I'll bring you back cannoli." She winked.
"Cannoli! "Annie squealed. "Go, get out of here."
And with that, Sandra stepped out into the sunshine, determined to uncover the secret of Willow Creek.
*****
Standing inside 1422 Marion, Sandra was having second thoughts.
What am I doing? Maybe this has all been a hoax. Everything is so strange. The widow! And those guys in the garden. At least James seemed normal and, of course, sweet Lorrie.
Sandra stared at the elevator as the doors slowly opened.
Do I go or not?
A bell rang, and the doors began to close. Sandra placed her hands in the opening, stopping them. She took a deep breath and stepped inside, leaning against the wall. She was still uncertain what she would say to the Judge or if he would share anything with her.
The elevator creaked and groaned as it slowly ascended to the third floor. Finally, the doors opened, and she entered a dimly lit hallway on the third floor. The hallway was long and narrow, and the walls were painted dull beige. Unlike the busy corridors in her building, it was quiet. An arrow on the wall indicated that Suite 303 was located down the hall to her left.
Sandra hurried past each office, scanning the numbers on the doors as she went. As she passed Suite 301, she again wondered what she would say to the judge and if it would convince her to take the mansion.
"Come on, Judge. Where are you?" she muttered quietly under her breath.
Passing a few unmarked doors, she finally arrived outside Suite 303. She was relieved to see William Parker — Judge written on the door. But her excitement was short-lived when she saw the 'For Rent' sign hanging near the door. A wave of disbelief washed over her.
Surprised, Sandra spoke out loud. "This can't be!"
A young woman with a janitorial cart appeared behind her as if on cue. "Were you interested in looking at the office?" she asked in a friendly tone. "I've got the keys if you want to take a look. It needs some cleaning, but it's got a nice view. The Judge always loved the city skyline, especially at night."
"The Judge. You know him?"
The young woman looked confused. "Know Judge Parker? I did."
"Great! Maybe you can tell me where he moved his offices to." Sandra held her breath, waiting for an answer. "It would save me some time."
"You want to know where Judge Parker's offices are?"
"Yes, I received a letter from him a few days ago with this address. I need to reach him."
"I'm sorry, but you must be mistaken. Judge Parker is dead."
Sandra swallowed. "Dead! No, he can't be! I met him and his friends at Noah Wakefield's funeral in Willow Creek just a few days ago."
The woman smiled. "Sure sounds like the Judge. He loved to visit Mr. Wakefield. But it just couldn't have been him."
"You're sure he died?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am. He was working late, and someone came in and shot him through the heart. I went in to clean his office and found him. There was blood everywhere. Sure enough, he was dead, a hole in the middle of his chest. You can bet I got out of there, fast!"
"When was that?"
"Let's see. The Judge died in the spring of last year, so I guess it's been almost a year."
"A year?" A chill ran down Sandra's spine. "Do you mind if I look around?"
"You go ahead. I prefer not to go in there if you don't mind. I'll be cleaning the offices across the hall so I can lock up after you leave."
"Thank you. I won't be long." Sandra peered through the door. Some of the office furniture was covered with sheets and a layer of dust and cobwebs. Unconsciously, she put on her imaginary crime reporter hat and entered the office.
So, Judge Parker, someone put a bullet hole through your chest, and you're dead. Why? Were they looking for something? And who's the man impersonating you?
She walked around the office, noting the scattered papers on the desk and the empty bookshelves lining the walls.
A faded photo caught her eye as she rifled through the papers on the desk. A younger version of the man she had met at Noah Wakefield's funeral stared at her. It was a picture of the Judge with his family — his wife, two daughters, and a golden retriever sitting at their feet.
You look happy. So, what's your story? Someone wanted you dead, but why?
Lost in thought, Sandra jumped in surprise when she heard a creaking sound from the bookshelves. A panel was ajar. Sandra touched it, and it opened, revealing a secret compartment.
Oh! What do we have here, Judge?
Cautiously, Sandra peered inside. At first, it looked like a stack of old journals and papers.
Sandra pulled them out and glanced at each one.
Nothing interesting here.
Disappointed in her discovery, she restacked them and started to put them back where she'd found them, but —"
What's this?
Deeper inside the compartment, she could see something else. She reached inside. Her fingers gripped a leather-bound book of some kind. She pulled out the book and blew off the dust, revealing the title. She gasped.
The Secret Life of Judge Parker. Now we're getting somewhere.
Intrigued, Sandra opened the book and began to read. The pages were filled with entries detailing the Judge's dealings with the criminal underworld, his involvement in shady business deals, and his corrupt practices within the legal system. Sandra's eyes widened as she realized the man once respected as a pillar of the community was nothing more than a criminal in a judge's robe.
Guess someone felt you were a threat because you knew too much.
As she continued to read, Sandra heard footsteps approaching from the outer office. Panicking, she quickly closed the book and stuffed it into her bag. She turned to see a man standing in the doorway.
"What do you think you're doing?" the man demanded, his voice laced with anger.
Sandra froze, her heart pounding in her throat. "Umm, the cleaning lady —she said it was okay."
"Well, it's not unless I say so."
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't realize," Sandra stammered, her hands shaking slightly as she tried to compose herself.
The man stepped further into the room, the badge on his belt catching the light and gleaming brightly. She felt the intensity of his gaze as he stared at her.
"The space is for rent. I was taking a quick peek. I meant no harm."
"That's no excuse for trespassing in a restricted area," the man snapped, his tone harsh and accusatory. "You're not supposed to be in here without permission."
"The cleaning lady said it was okay," Sandra repeated.
The man's expression softened slightly, and he stepped further into the judge's office, glancing around the room. "Sorry. The Judge was a friend of mine. It still bothers me when I see someone else in here."
Sandra smiled, "I understand. I lost someone a few years ago, and I still haven't fully recovered."
"I think if they'd caught his murderer, I might feel a little better. Maybe someday." He looked around the room, abruptly adding, "Be sure someone locks up. Have a nice evening."
Sandra watched as he left the room, a nagging feeling of unease returning to her stomach. She shivered, knowing she'd stumbled upon something she shouldn't have, which could have serious repercussions if she weren't careful. Her legs were trembling, and she collapsed into the office chair.
Okay, Sandra, admit you were scared. No, not me. Well, just a little, I suppose, but that's because he surprised me. Now, the real question is, why did a man with a badge have a corrupt judge as his friend and a good friend, it seems? And what does the mansion have to do with any of it? Then, of course, the guy in Willow Creek is also impersonating him. Who is he?
Sandra spun the chair around toward the window and looked out at the city skyline, still struggling with what she'd learned today and at the funeral.
Judge William Parker is liked by many, it appears, yet the book says something totally different about you. A double life? I can't help wondering what thoughts went through your head when you sat and looked out this window. Was it crime and justice or just crime?
Sandra took a final look as she left the office. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was now entangled in a dangerous web of deceit and corruption. She knew that if she wanted to uncover the truth behind the Judge's death, she would have to be prepared to face the consequences —no matter how dire they may be.
I've got to go back to the mansion.
*****
As she stepped out into the street, a sharp gust of wind whipped at her hair and clothes, but she barely registered the chill. The sun was gone, and so was her carefree mood. She couldn't stop thinking about the Judge and the strange events of the past few days that had turned her world upside down. She hurried across the street to buy the promised cannoli for Annie while a whirlwind of thoughts swirled inside her head. She could feel her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
"Don't be silly! There's no such thing as ghosts," she reassured herself, but the thought lingered.
As she turned to wave goodbye, Sandra's eyes widened in surprise when she saw everyone had disappeared. She scanned the cemetery, but the only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the wind and two squirrels dashing across the grass.
"That's strange. Where did they go?"
Suddenly, she felt herself falling, and then she didn't.
"Gotcha."
Was that a voice?
Sandra's eyes widened as she looked around again. Her voice cracked. "Is someone there?"
When no one answered, she laughed. "It's a cemetery, Sandra. Dead people don't talk."
She saw the tipped-over headstone covered in moss and felt foolish. Boo!
She shook her head, muttering, "It's time to go home."
Her steps quickened as she hurried to her car, her heart still pounding. Inside the car, she stared out the window toward the garden, her head filled with unanswered questions.
As she drove through the iron gates, she mumbled, "There's no such thing as ghosts!"
*****
CHAPTER 3
"Annie, were you able to find a telephone number for Judge Parker? I think his first name was William." Sandra called her assistant in the outer office.
"I tried but couldn't find a listing. Are you sure about his name?"
"I met the guy at a funeral." Sandra shrugged. "I'm usually good at remembering names, but —"
"A funeral? I can't get you to date any of the guys I know, and now you hook up with a guy at a funeral. Tell me you're kidding," Annie exclaimed.
"Hookup? Oh, heavens, no, Annie." Sandra laughed at her assistant. "You won't believe it, but I inherited a mansion, a Victorian house in Willow Creek, from a stranger."
"A stranger left you a house?" Annie was skeptical. "That's so strange. Do you think it's legit?"
"I don't know what to think. There's a mysterious story behind it," Sandra replied, her tone thoughtful.
"So, the bloodhound is on the hunt, right?" Annie chuckled.
"For a story, maybe. Not a man." Sandra sighed. "I'm not sure if I should accept it. What would I do with a house in the countryside?"
"Live in it! Have you seen it? What's it like?"
"I've not seen it. I was supposed to go back today for a tour, and I even got the okay from Les."
"Then what's the holdup?" Annie giggled. "I'd be packed and out of here. You deserve some time off."
"I don't know. Something doesn't feel right. So, I've decided to talk to Judge Parker again." Sandra rummaged through a stack of papers. "Aha! This is the envelope the letter came in. There is no phone number, of course, but the office is at 1422 Marion. Why does that sound familiar?"
"Because the new Italian restaurant that we've been talking about is at 1425 Marion. It's only five blocks from here."
Smiling, Sandra turned to Annie and made her an offer she couldn't refuse. "If you cover my calls, I'll bring you back cannoli." She winked.
"Cannoli! "Annie squealed. "Go, get out of here."
And with that, Sandra stepped out into the sunshine, determined to uncover the secret of Willow Creek.
*****
Standing inside 1422 Marion, Sandra was having second thoughts.
What am I doing? Maybe this has all been a hoax. Everything is so strange. The widow! And those guys in the garden. At least James seemed normal and, of course, sweet Lorrie.
Sandra stared at the elevator as the doors slowly opened.
Do I go or not?
A bell rang, and the doors began to close. Sandra placed her hands in the opening, stopping them. She took a deep breath and stepped inside, leaning against the wall. She was still uncertain what she would say to the Judge or if he would share anything with her.
The elevator creaked and groaned as it slowly ascended to the third floor. Finally, the doors opened, and she entered a dimly lit hallway on the third floor. The hallway was long and narrow, and the walls were painted dull beige. Unlike the busy corridors in her building, it was quiet. An arrow on the wall indicated that Suite 303 was located down the hall to her left.
Sandra hurried past each office, scanning the numbers on the doors as she went. As she passed Suite 301, she again wondered what she would say to the judge and if it would convince her to take the mansion.
"Come on, Judge. Where are you?" she muttered quietly under her breath.
Passing a few unmarked doors, she finally arrived outside Suite 303. She was relieved to see William Parker — Judge written on the door. But her excitement was short-lived when she saw the 'For Rent' sign hanging near the door. A wave of disbelief washed over her.
Surprised, Sandra spoke out loud. "This can't be!"
A young woman with a janitorial cart appeared behind her as if on cue. "Were you interested in looking at the office?" she asked in a friendly tone. "I've got the keys if you want to take a look. It needs some cleaning, but it's got a nice view. The Judge always loved the city skyline, especially at night."
"The Judge. You know him?"
The young woman looked confused. "Know Judge Parker? I did."
"Great! Maybe you can tell me where he moved his offices to." Sandra held her breath, waiting for an answer. "It would save me some time."
"You want to know where Judge Parker's offices are?"
"Yes, I received a letter from him a few days ago with this address. I need to reach him."
"I'm sorry, but you must be mistaken. Judge Parker is dead."
Sandra swallowed. "Dead! No, he can't be! I met him and his friends at Noah Wakefield's funeral in Willow Creek just a few days ago."
The woman smiled. "Sure sounds like the Judge. He loved to visit Mr. Wakefield. But it just couldn't have been him."
"You're sure he died?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am. He was working late, and someone came in and shot him through the heart. I went in to clean his office and found him. There was blood everywhere. Sure enough, he was dead, a hole in the middle of his chest. You can bet I got out of there, fast!"
"When was that?"
"Let's see. The Judge died in the spring of last year, so I guess it's been almost a year."
"A year?" A chill ran down Sandra's spine. "Do you mind if I look around?"
"You go ahead. I prefer not to go in there if you don't mind. I'll be cleaning the offices across the hall so I can lock up after you leave."
"Thank you. I won't be long." Sandra peered through the door. Some of the office furniture was covered with sheets and a layer of dust and cobwebs. Unconsciously, she put on her imaginary crime reporter hat and entered the office.
So, Judge Parker, someone put a bullet hole through your chest, and you're dead. Why? Were they looking for something? And who's the man impersonating you?
She walked around the office, noting the scattered papers on the desk and the empty bookshelves lining the walls.
A faded photo caught her eye as she rifled through the papers on the desk. A younger version of the man she had met at Noah Wakefield's funeral stared at her. It was a picture of the Judge with his family — his wife, two daughters, and a golden retriever sitting at their feet.
You look happy. So, what's your story? Someone wanted you dead, but why?
Lost in thought, Sandra jumped in surprise when she heard a creaking sound from the bookshelves. A panel was ajar. Sandra touched it, and it opened, revealing a secret compartment.
Oh! What do we have here, Judge?
Cautiously, Sandra peered inside. At first, it looked like a stack of old journals and papers.
Sandra pulled them out and glanced at each one.
Nothing interesting here.
Disappointed in her discovery, she restacked them and started to put them back where she'd found them, but —"
What's this?
Deeper inside the compartment, she could see something else. She reached inside. Her fingers gripped a leather-bound book of some kind. She pulled out the book and blew off the dust, revealing the title. She gasped.
The Secret Life of Judge Parker. Now we're getting somewhere.
Intrigued, Sandra opened the book and began to read. The pages were filled with entries detailing the Judge's dealings with the criminal underworld, his involvement in shady business deals, and his corrupt practices within the legal system. Sandra's eyes widened as she realized the man once respected as a pillar of the community was nothing more than a criminal in a judge's robe.
Guess someone felt you were a threat because you knew too much.
As she continued to read, Sandra heard footsteps approaching from the outer office. Panicking, she quickly closed the book and stuffed it into her bag. She turned to see a man standing in the doorway.
"What do you think you're doing?" the man demanded, his voice laced with anger.
Sandra froze, her heart pounding in her throat. "Umm, the cleaning lady —she said it was okay."
"Well, it's not unless I say so."
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't realize," Sandra stammered, her hands shaking slightly as she tried to compose herself.
The man stepped further into the room, the badge on his belt catching the light and gleaming brightly. She felt the intensity of his gaze as he stared at her.
"The space is for rent. I was taking a quick peek. I meant no harm."
"That's no excuse for trespassing in a restricted area," the man snapped, his tone harsh and accusatory. "You're not supposed to be in here without permission."
"The cleaning lady said it was okay," Sandra repeated.
The man's expression softened slightly, and he stepped further into the judge's office, glancing around the room. "Sorry. The Judge was a friend of mine. It still bothers me when I see someone else in here."
Sandra smiled, "I understand. I lost someone a few years ago, and I still haven't fully recovered."
"I think if they'd caught his murderer, I might feel a little better. Maybe someday." He looked around the room, abruptly adding, "Be sure someone locks up. Have a nice evening."
Sandra watched as he left the room, a nagging feeling of unease returning to her stomach. She shivered, knowing she'd stumbled upon something she shouldn't have, which could have serious repercussions if she weren't careful. Her legs were trembling, and she collapsed into the office chair.
Okay, Sandra, admit you were scared. No, not me. Well, just a little, I suppose, but that's because he surprised me. Now, the real question is, why did a man with a badge have a corrupt judge as his friend and a good friend, it seems? And what does the mansion have to do with any of it? Then, of course, the guy in Willow Creek is also impersonating him. Who is he?
Sandra spun the chair around toward the window and looked out at the city skyline, still struggling with what she'd learned today and at the funeral.
Judge William Parker is liked by many, it appears, yet the book says something totally different about you. A double life? I can't help wondering what thoughts went through your head when you sat and looked out this window. Was it crime and justice or just crime?
Sandra took a final look as she left the office. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was now entangled in a dangerous web of deceit and corruption. She knew that if she wanted to uncover the truth behind the Judge's death, she would have to be prepared to face the consequences —no matter how dire they may be.
I've got to go back to the mansion.
*****
As she stepped out into the street, a sharp gust of wind whipped at her hair and clothes, but she barely registered the chill. The sun was gone, and so was her carefree mood. She couldn't stop thinking about the Judge and the strange events of the past few days that had turned her world upside down. She hurried across the street to buy the promised cannoli for Annie while a whirlwind of thoughts swirled inside her head. She could feel her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
*****
With the promised purchase in hand, Sandra headed for her office building. Something, a noise, made her stop and turn back toward the Judge's building.
Were those footsteps?
She didn't see anyone, but she quickened her steps until she neared her office. She had inherited a mansion from a stranger, a man she had never met, and his wife had accused her of being his mistress. And now, on top of it all, she had discovered that she had spoken to a man who supposedly was dead. It was a mystery that demanded to be solved, and Sandra was determined to do just that.
With the promised purchase in hand, Sandra headed for her office building. Something, a noise, made her stop and turn back toward the Judge's building.
Were those footsteps?
She didn't see anyone, but she quickened her steps until she neared her office. She had inherited a mansion from a stranger, a man she had never met, and his wife had accused her of being his mistress. And now, on top of it all, she had discovered that she had spoken to a man who supposedly was dead. It was a mystery that demanded to be solved, and Sandra was determined to do just that.
 Recognized |
I am seriously considering shelving this story since it seems difficult to follow for some. Looking for suggestions and honest answers. Thank you.
Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - currently unemployed
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Sandra Monroe - fledgling investigative reporter
Annie - Sandra's loyal assistant
Detective Ryan Hamilton
Judge William Parker
Benny Gonzales - currently unemployed
Lorrie - the housekeeper
James Matthews - writer living in the mansion's carriage house
Noah Wakefield - deceased
Madeline Wakefield - widow
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