I turned the lock and one of the large double oak doors opened. I stepped into the foyer. My footsteps echoed, and Georgie’s echoed behind me.
Georgie whispered, “It’s too quiet in here. It’s almost creepy.”
I said, “You don’t have to whisper.” I jumped at the loudness of my voice.
Georgie doubled over laughing. She looked at me and laughed harder. I knew if she didn’t stop she would begin to snort and then I wouldn’t be able to keep from laughing. There it was, the first snort. We both laughed until we cried and then I forced myself to take a deep breath. I grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the study.
Georgie looked up and asked, “Can I have the crystal chandelier?”
“Be reasonable, where would you put it?” She shrugged and followed me into the study.
It took us ten minutes to walk to the study. I have been in this house many times and met with Inga in the study. Georgie has never seen the house. She stopped to look at everything. When we came to the study door, I found it locked. I looked at the second set of keys Lucas had messengered me and found one marked “study.”
I glanced over my shoulder and said, “This is what Inga considered her study where she wrote letters and gave me checks when she purchased books, but it is also a shrine to all her dogs.
I opened the door. Georgie walked in and stopped in her tracks. The “Yummy” wall intrigued her. Half of one wall was covered with pictures of Yorkies Inga had named Yummy since nineteen-fifty. Each was a professional portrait sixteen by twenty in size.
Georgie turned and looked at me with a scrunched face. “She named them all Yummy?”
“Yes,” the only thing that changes is a Roman numeral at the end of their name. My Yummy is number eleven.” I pointed out the names etched on a gold plate at the bottom of each painting. “This is my Yummy.”
“How do you know?” She asked with her nose nearly pressed onto the pictures. “They all look exactly alike.”
“Only by the nameplates. Inga told me that each Yummy puppy had to be the same coloring as the first puppy she received. She said her husband gave the first to her the Christmas after they learned she could never have children. They were like her kids.”
Georgie turned to look at me with tears streaming down her face. “That is so sad. She couldn’t have a baby, so she kept getting a new Yummy.” She grabbed my arm. “Annie, you have to fight tooth and nail to keep that dog for Inga. It’s like her child. You can’t let anyone take him. I’ll help you.” She wiped the tears on the sleeve of her blue sweater.
“Thanks. After today’s threat, I need the help. Let’s start with the papers on the floor. Since those men left them, they’re most likely not important. We can rule out whatever’s on them as significant to our case.”
“So, we’re on a case?”
“You better believe it. Goodness gracious, someone wants me dead.” I bent over and scooped up a handful of papers.
“These are all about Yummy. Just vet bills or receipts from a dog groomer.” I straightened them out and placed them in a stack on the desk. I scooped up another handful.
“Same thing here,” Georgie said. “All this paperwork seems to be about Yummy. He’s at the center of all that’s been going on. Whoever owns him owns everything. We know that, but maybe they were looking for something to help Mags in court.”
“Like what?” I asked as I straightened up more paperwork.
“Who knows? I’m not a lawyer. Something they could use to change the will. Maybe they want to prove Inga was insane leaving a fortune to whoever has her dog.” She handed me a stack and picked up more papers.
“You make a good point. I’m sure Mags would use the angle of Inga’s mind to try and win Yummy from me.”
After fifteen minutes, we glanced over each page and made two neat stacks on the desk. I placed them in an empty file drawer. The room looked neat again. Inga would be happy.
Georgie wandered out of the study, and I heard a quiet squeal. I found her in the dining room.
“Annie, look at all this crystal. There’s glasses, vases, pitchers, bowls, and more. I have never seen more crystal even at the store.”
Georgie was standing in front of an open china cabinet. The only person in the world who loved crystal more than Georgie was me.
I spotted a ten inch bud vase and handed it to Georgie. “For all the single roses Paul loves to give you.”
“I couldn’t. I was teasing,” she said eyes glistening like a child’s on Christmas morning.
“I insist. An early birthday gift. With all the stuff in this house, I may never have to buy another gift as long as I live.” I smiled turning to Georgie hoping to see her smiling, too.
She stood there with tears streaming down her face again. “You are the sweetest friend anyone ever had and I don’t need a bud vase for a gift. I have you.”
I stared at her with my hands on my hips. “You’re turning down my gift? How dare you.” I fought the smile trying to form.
“Of course not. I love the vase,” she said clutching the vase to her chest.
She was still crying, and her tears were contagious. When Georgie cried, I cried and vice versa. It’s hard to find a friend like Georgie. In third grade, we made a pinkie promise to go to heaven together whenever God wanted us because we had to stay together. That’s friendship or innocence, but Georgie is a true friend.
“C’mon, let’s see what else we can find.” I coaxed her away from the crystal.
We wandered into a fully equipped professional kitchen. Georgie found a fluffy towel to wrap her precious bud vase. She suggested that if I
