Violet Yorke, Gilded Girl: Ghosts in the Closet: A gripping historical mystery with hints of the paranormal by PJ McIlvaine

Author:PJ McIlvaine [McIlvaine, PJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: darkstroke books
Published: 2022-04-03T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

It was shortly past noon, so there weren’t too many customers milling around. Violet stopped in the foyer and spotted Hewitt as he entered an office. She crept up and heard Grandmother. “You forget your place, Hugo! I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

Violet burst in.

Grandmother was in a chair. Hewitt stood behind a desk. He glowered at Violet. “I thought I asked you to wait outside.”

“It’s all right, Violet. We were just leaving.” But Grandmother made no attempt to get up. “Really, Hugo, I don’t understand why the bank called you. It was completely unnecessary. It’s my money. I’m free to do with it as I please.”

“The bank called because they were concerned, and I’m your attorney of record. Withdrawing twenty-five thousand dollars is a considerable sum.”

Violet gasped. Twenty-five thousand dollars!

“To Pierpont Morgan, it’s a drop in the bucket,” Grandmother huffed.

“You’re not Pierpont Morgan. And you haven’t answered my question. What was the withdrawal for? Are you displeased with your current investments?”

Grandmother jiggled her head. “You’ve done very well for me, Hugo. And for Violet as well, for that matter. I’ve no qualms with your business acumen. I just wanted to – oh, what is the word – diversify my holdings. I don’t see why that should be of any interest to you or the bank.”

Hewitt cocked an eyebrow. “So, you’re investing in a company?”

Grandmother coughed. “I didn’t say that.”

“There’s a lot you’re not saying. Why do I have the persistent feeling that Bertie’s behind this?”

Violet grimaced. Bertie? Oh no. This wasn’t going to end well at all if Bertie was involved. Squirrels had more sense. Grandmother might as well throw her money in the East River.

“And what if he is? I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Grandmother stood and grabbed Violet’s hand. “Come along, dear.” She pulled Violet along until they were outside.

O’Malley paced by the carriage. “Mrs. Shaw. I trust all is well. Where shall we go now?”

“It’s not. Home!” Grandmother commanded.

Violet would’ve preferred the car to the carriage. But Grandmother was in such a foul temper, she knew better than to ask. Why was being an adult so complicated? It didn’t make her look forward in the slightest to growing up.

By the time they got home, Grandmother was in the throes of one of her migraines. Violet knew what that meant: she’d take a liberal dose of Dr. Wilson’s horrible elixir and retire early. This suited Violet perfectly, since Nanette was still at her meeting. It would make slipping out to meet Wesley that much easier.

Violet spent the rest of the day in her room. After a quick supper, she sneaked out of the house, taking a wrap and lantern as it was already dark.

Wesley was waiting behind the garage. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”

Violet set the lantern down. “Well, you’re early.”

“Your grandmother and Mr. Hewitt. They don’t know you spoke to me, do they? I wonder what they’d say if they knew.” He shot her a smug smile.

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