This Musketeer guards a secret
Read a snippet from the book
Danielle heard a knock on the window and looked up, startled.
She saw Mr. Jones straining to peek into the store through the window. Sitting
on her stool in front of the easel with a brush in hand, she glanced at the
clock. Oh, my! Is it nine o’clock already? She stood up and hurried to
the front door. Pulling the chair from under the doorknob, she opened the door.
“Thank God you’re okay!” Mr. Jones pushed through the half-open
door and hugged her. “I just heard from the butcher. Do you know who it was?
Did they take anything? Did they try to hurt you? Why were you in the store so
late?” his questions came as he was trying to catch his breath.
“I’m fine,” Danielle assured the worried mailman, smiling.
“I haven’t the faintest idea who it was and what he wanted. He ran away when I
yelled out and cocked my gun.”
“Oh, good! You should’ve shot him in the leg. He deserved
it.”
“I don’t think he’s from around here,” Danielle speculated.
“Only the lawyer down the street wears that brand of expensive loafers.”
“You don’t think…”
“No, he has brown hair, and the burglar had silvery gray
hair.”
“Now wait a minute!” The mailman grabbed Danielle’s arm in
his excitement. “I might have seen that man at the Couture mansion. Mrs. Van
Bramer’s secretary said he’s an art expert.”
“What’s going on?” Danielle heard Sarah’s sleepy voice
behind her. “Oh, good morning Mr. Jones.”
“Mr. Jones just told me he saw the man who broke into the
store,” Danielle explained to her best friend.
The mailman yanked his carrier bag higher on his shoulder.
“I’ll stop at the police station and report this.” He started walking away but turned
back. “Oh, I almost forgot. The bakery is open. Lucy’s niece had a baby boy. I
got you fresh croissants.” He smiled and handed a paper bag to Danielle.
“Thank you, Mr. Jones! It was very nice of you,” Danielle called
after the mailman as he hurried away down the sidewalk and then turned to
Sarah. “You’re not going to believe what I’ve found! Come, let me show you.”
She reached for Sarah’s hand and led her to the corner in the store.
“Phew, it smells like turpentine over here.” Sarah crinkled
her nose.
“I’ve been working on taking off the new layer of paint, and
now the signature of the artist is visible. He was a much sought-after painter
in 17th-century France.”
“Let’s search it,” Sarah perked up. “Maybe this painting is
worth a lot of money!”
“I’ll boot up the computer, but first, I’m going to call the
locksmith. While the computer is warming up, we’ll eat the croissants Mr. Jones
brought.” Danielle decided and covered the painting.
“Your ancient computer takes forever. You must get a new
one.”
“I know.” Danielle sighed. “I never had the money for it,
but after the surge of customers, now I do.”
The locksmith said he’ll stop by before lunch, and by the
time the women finished breakfast, the ancient computer was ready for search.
Danielle Googled the name of the artist, and her jaw dropped when she clicked
on the first website that popped up on her screen.
Sarah peeked over Danielle’s shoulder. “What? No way!” she
shrieked and read the headline out loud. “The portrait of a noblewoman of the
famous 17th-century artist was sold to a well-known American art
collector for ten million dollars.”
Danielle, not believing her eyes, backspaced and clicked on
the next link. It was the auction website where the price of the painting was
confirmed. She kept searching and found fifteen more paintings from the same
artist that had been sold for similar amounts in the past ten years. “I have to
tell Mrs. Van Bramer about this. She gave me the painting, not knowing its
possible value.”
“Wait a minute!” Sarah exclaimed. “What if that so-called
expert knew the value of the painting and lied to Mrs. Van Bramer? I think he
broke into the store. And what if she wants the painting back after she finds
out how much it’s worth?”
“I’ll give it back to her, of course. She bought the house
and found the painting in the hidden room; it belongs to her.”
“Nah-uh!” Sarah announced. “That’s not right. It belongs to
the Couture family. I bet the old lady didn’t tell her relatives about the
hidden room.”
