Murder Under a Bridal Moon: a Mona Moon Mystery, Book 10 by Abigail Keam

Author:Abigail Keam
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery
Publisher: Worker Bee Press
Published: 2022-10-04T00:00:00+00:00

18

Mona went to Mabelle’s little house on Mooncrest Farm and searched the closet. There was no new frock hanging up, no new shoes, new purse or any other female attire that looked recently purchased. She did discover a fresh garter belt and silk stockings still in their boxes in the top drawer of the dresser. There were also some loose sepia-toned photographs.

Dumping the contents of Mabelle’s dresser onto her bed, Mona checked underneath every drawer, then pulled the dresser out from the wall and felt behind it. She did the same to Mabelle’s vanity, pulling it away from the wall. Nothing. Mona searched behind every picture, even the plaster hanging of da Vinci’s Last Supper. She pulled out every chair cushion, turned every chair over, and checked every cabinet. She even inspected the toilet.

Frustrated, Mona picked up a chair cushion and put it back in the chair. She would have to clean up the mess she created. As she did so, the floor squeaked. Mona rocked back and forth on it. Some of the floorboards were loose. Mona went into the kitchenette, got a butcher knife, and returned to the loose boards, using the knife to pry them up. After putting the wooden boards aside, Mona looked into the empty space below. It was dark.

When Mona first arrived at Moon Manor, she had all the outdated cottages refurbished with kitchenettes, running water, and modern bathrooms. All the old-fashioned outhouses were torn down and filled in. The original design of the servants’ houses was kept intact as they were still sturdy. Mona figured she had another fifteen years before they would have to be torn down and rebuilt.

The staff houses had been built in the last century. The cottages were not constructed on the ground, but stationed on four piles of stacked rocks so the house sat up off the ground. This was done to help air circulate under the cottage and prevent moisture and rot. None of the cottages had insulation and they were heated by potbellied stoves. They all had porches on which people would sleep during the worst of the summer heat.

So when Mona peered into the dark hole, she was staring at the ground underneath her—a place where spiders and snakes liked to congregate. Cursing that she did not have the foresight to bring a flashlight, Mona gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and leaned into the open hole, thrusting her arm into the darkness below. Mona squealed when her hand enclosed on a small, hard object. Bringing it up, she threw it away from her, having it hit against a wall.

Mona checked her arm and hair for spiders. Standing up, she checked her clothes. Oh, she must look a mess. Satisfied that nothing creepy crawly was on her person, Mona glanced at the item she had brought up from its hidey-hole.

It was a small wooden box held together by a dirty string. Mona pulled at the string, which fell apart without much coaxing. Placing the box on a table, she lifted the lid with the knife and peered into the box.

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