Cyndi placed the mug on top of the desk before striding over to the picture that hid the wall safe. Lifting it off the wall, she laid it aside. She'd have to find something else to cover the safe. If Linda Fletcher would take the painting for the auction, it was leaving the house. If she wouldn't take it, Cyndi planned to shove it in the back of the attic.

She spun the dial on the safe, stopping at the correct numbers. The handle turned easily, and she swung the door open. Like Pandora's box, she had a feeling there were things in here that would be better off not seeing the light of day. But she was fully committed to the job at hand. Besides which, she had to know what was here. Maybe it would give her a better idea of who might be behind the shooting.

Reaching inside, she pulled out three leather-bound journals and several stacks of papers, carrying them over to the desk. She'd examine them in a minute, but what she really wanted to see was her mother's jewelry.

There were twelve cases in all, some big, others small. Piling them into her arms, Cyndi took them back to the desk, depositing them there. Her hands were shaking as she opened the first one. It was the necklace she'd seen the night she'd discovered the safe. Leaving the velvet case open, Cyndi picked up a smaller one and pried the lid up.

"Ohmygod,” she gasped. Nestled on a bed of plush red velvet was a stunning pair of diamond earrings. They were shaped like large teardrops and were obviously worth a small fortune. She traced her finger over the cool stones, barely able to believe they were real. But they were real, of that there was no doubt. Her father wouldn't have settled for anything less than the best.

One box at a time, she opened them all. Heart pounding, she dropped into the chair behind the desk and just stared. There were diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. Four necklaces, five pairs of earrings, and three bracelets shimmered and shone in the early morning sun streaming in through the windows.

She slipped an emerald bracelet over her wrist, holding it to the light. The gems showed off their brilliant beauty. Replacing it carefully in its box, she plucked up a diamond necklace. It glittered like ice. Cyndi shuddered, returning it to its bed of velvet.

One by one, Cyndi examined each piece, searching for a glimpse of a memory. She'd hoped to recognize at least one of the pieces, to be able to conjure up some elusive snippet of her past with her mother, but there was nothing. They were all beautiful pieces of jewelry, but they left her cold.

The doorbell pealed, making her jump. Slamming the lids shut, she gathered up the boxes and hurried over to the safe, all but tossing them inside and slamming the door.

She glanced out the window, shocked to see a van and a truck in the driveway. She'd been so absorbed in the jewelry that they'd driven up without her even hearing them approach. The bell rang again and she hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. She'd gather her father's papers and the journals and take them to her room. Tonight, she promised herself. Tonight she'd take the time to read them.

The bell chimed one more time just as she reached the door and swung it open. “Hi.” Out of breath and her head still spinning from the fortune in jewelry she'd just uncovered, Cyndi greeted her visitors.

The tall, dark-haired woman, in stylish, black slacks and a matching jacket, seemed slightly taken aback, but then she smiled. “Good morning, I'm Linda Fletcher.” Cyndi recognized the cultured tones of her voice. They'd talked several times on the phone, setting up this weekend.

"Cyndi Marks.” Cyndi offered her hand and Linda shook it. The handshake was firm and no nonsense. “Please come in."

Another woman was standing just behind Linda on the steps. This woman was a bit shorter than Linda, her hair a profusion of cinnamon-colored curls. She was dressed more casually in jeans and a dark brown, corduroy jacket. “Hi, I'm Amanda Barrington.” Her wire-rimmed glasses gave her a slightly bookish appearance, but she still didn't fit Cyndi's idea of a rare book dealer.

"Welcome. Come on in.” Cyndi beckoned them into the house. Neither woman bothered to contain their curiosity, glancing unabashedly around the foyer, as they removed their coats and hung them on the coat rack. “Would you like some coffee?"

"Would I?” Amanda all but groaned. “I've only had one cup this morning and I could definitely use some more."

Cyndi laughed, liking Amanda more by the minute. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose and an easy smile. Linda seemed more reserved, but still very nice. She remembered her coffee mug on her desk and paused outside the door. It was silly to be concerned about preserving the privacy of the office. After all, she was allowing these women access to her entire house this weekend.

Swinging the door open, she hurried into the room. “I was just working in here and didn't hear you drive up.” Grabbing her mug, she turned to find both women staring at the room. Cyndi laughed. “Overwhelming, isn't it?"

"I'll say,” Amanda easily agreed.

"It's strong and very masculine,” Linda observed.

"That about sums it up.” Cyndi strolled over to stand beside them. “Most of the furniture will be going from this room. I need to pack up the papers in the desk and such, but I want just about every last piece gone from this room."

Both women stared at her and she could hear the vehemence in her own voice. “Sorry.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Memories."

"There will probably be a lot more before the weekend is over,” Linda added gently. “No matter how ready you think you are to let go, it's never easy."

Cyndi knew that she was right, but the quicker this was done, the quicker she could get on with the rest of her life. Her gaze flicked to the safe. “Do you deal in estate jewelry or do you know someone who does?"

Linda's excitement was palpable. “I can definitely handle the jewelry for you. We don't get much, but it's a passion of mine.” It was obvious the woman loved her job.

"Good.” Cyndi ushered them out of the room, down the hallway, and into the kitchen. “Because I've got quite a bit of it.” Her own jewelry was scattered across her bed and floor upstairs. She'd never even thought to sort through that yet.

The women opted to pull up a stool at the counter rather than sit at the table. Cyndi took down mugs and filled them, placing them in front of her guests. Dumping her own cold coffee down the drain, she poured herself a fresh cup.

"What about clothing? It's probably not worth much, but there's more than a closet full of designer clothes from the early nineties upstairs as well. Plus, my father's got closets full of designer men's clothing."

Linda broke out into a huge grin. “I have to tell you that you're making my heart pitter-patter."

Cyndi laughed as she leaned against the counter. “I'll take that as a yes."

"You certainly can,” Linda laughed.

"Don't worry,” she said to Amanda. “I've got an entire room of wall-to-wall bookcases just waiting for you."

Amanda rubbed her hands together. “Good. For a minute there, I thought that Linda was going to have all the fun."

Cyndi felt more relaxed than she had since she arrived in Jamesville. It was nice to talk to people who had no idea of her past, to people who didn't hate her because of who she was.

She noticed Linda's gaze had gone to the cooking island where she'd left the china that she and Shamus had dragged down from the attic. “Those I'm not selling."

"I don't blame you. May I?” Cyndi nodded and Linda slid from her stool and strode to the dishes. “These are lovely.” Picking up a tea plate, she examined the back. “Minton, circa nineteen-twenty-three. The tea plate and cup and saucer alone are worth about a hundred dollars."

Laying it carefully aside, she picked up a dinner plate. “Spode,” she sighed. “Some of these pieces are worth a lot of money.” She picked up a few more plates and examined them. “Others are not quite so rare, but they're still lovely pieces. You've got some nice Johnson Brothers and some Royal Albert as well. Quite a varied collection."

"I'm converting this place into a B & B and I plan to use most of these dishes. I may need more. I'm not sure yet."

"If you decide you want more or need to complete a place setting or just some extra pieces, let me know.” Linda placed the plate carefully back on the table and picked up a teacup. “I can get you whatever you need."

Cyndi hadn't really thought about that before, but she was making a good contact. “I may need some furniture, but I'm not sure yet. I think that the attic will have everything I need."

Linda groaned. “You're killing me here. You have an attic loaded with enough furniture to fill this place again?"

"Pretty much.” Cyndi grinned. “My family never threw anything out."

Amanda laughed. “You do realize that most women save this kind of rapture for men and not old books and furniture."

"Most women aren't as smart as us,” Linda replied wryly, making them all laugh as she carefully returning the cup to its saucer.

Cyndi realized she was enjoying herself. It was a shame these women weren't going to be here longer. She had a feeling they would both make good friends. “Let's get you both settled in upstairs.” As they left the kitchen, Cyndi teased Linda. “And don't get too comfortable. Your bedroom furniture is going, too."

Amanda snickered and Linda laughed. “Hey, if I like it, maybe I'll buy it."

They were at the bottom of the stairs when the doorbell rang again. Cyndi excused herself and went to the door. She hoped it wasn't anyone else wanting to cause trouble. She wasn't expecting Shamus for another couple of hours yet.