Did the Bates’ really have an honest to goodness butler? As I looked around the foyer, the word ‘opulent’ came to mind. The shiny, travertine marble floor reflected light from the giant crystal chandelier that hung in the center of the round entryway. To the right, a carved mahogany staircase wound its way upstairs. To the left, french doors led into another room. In front of me was a round table with a whopper of a flower arrangement on it.

Were those flowers real? I reached out to touch one…

“Can I help you?”

I jerked my hand back and spun around to see Derek Bates standing behind me.

“Hi, Derek,” I smiled. “I was actually coming to talk to your grandfather.”

“Grandfather is napping. He’s rather old, you know. Needs his sleep.” Derek’s words were clipped, not like his usual friendly self. Maybe the Bates’ family didn’t like it so much when people came to see them unannounced.

He stood in the same spot, making no move to invite me in further. I tilted my head to the side to see the room behind him. It seemed to be some sort of library. He raised a brow and looked at me expectantly.

I cleared my throat. “I … umm … I was coming to ask your grandfather about some bronzes he donated to the library many years ago.”

Derek narrowed his eyes. “Bronzes … oh, yes. We have a big collection. I don’t remember him donating any to the library, though.”

“It was in the sixties, before our time,” I said, remembering that even though the family trait of a thick streak of premature gray in Derek’s hair made him seem a lot older, he was really only a few years my senior. He would have been a kid when the bronzes were donated.

Derek chuckled, relaxing a bit. “Ahh … what did you want to know?”

“I was wondering if your grandfather would remember who was around at the ceremony when he donated them.”

“Why would you want to know that?”

“We think someone might have broken into the library to steal them and I was trying to figure out who might have known they were there. They were moved downstairs years ago and I think most everyone has forgotten about them.”

“We?” Derek’s smile faltered and he looked at me funny. “Are you working with the police or something?”

I shifted uneasily. “Well, no, it’s just—”

Crash!

We both swiveled toward the sound that had come from the room on the left.

Derek’s face took on a look of panic and we started toward the room, only to be met by Felicity Bates, Derek’s mother, who swept out of the room in a long black dress, wide sleeves flowing around her wrists.

She stopped short at the sight of us, a look of surprise on her face.

“Mother, what’s going on?” Derek’s voice was tinged with panic.