Read Heritage of Darkness for Free Online

a fierce stab of anger toward whatever SOB was
    responsible. Committing such a crime inside the museum that
    symbolized something precious to so many people added an extra
    degree of offense.
    Violet murmured, “I can’t take it in.”
    “Just who is Petra Lekstrom, anyway?” Chloe asked. “I mean, I
    know she’s an instructor, but it seems as if she wasn’t on real good terms with people—”
    “Chloe!” Mom snapped. “This is hardly the time to speak of
    such things.”
    An awkward silence settled over the room. Chloe opened her
    mouth to defend herself, then closed it again.
    Violet filled the mug and pushed it across the table toward
    Chloe. Then she approached Mom and put an arm around her
    shoulders. “Everyone’s upset, Aunt Marit,” she said with soothing
    sympathy. Mom patted Violet’s hand.
    So much for mother-daughter bonding. Chloe felt too weary
    to decide if she was grateful or annoyed by Violet’s intervention.
    Maybe Mom felt guilty about calling Petra “a bad penny.”
    “Petra may recover,” Violet reminded them. “We really have no
    idea how badly she was injured.”
    Mom stared into her mug. Sigrid stared at the wall. Chloe stud-
    ied her tea. The refrigerator hummed, and a clock above the sink
    ticked.
    “I can’t say I was close to Petra,” Mom said finally. “But I would never wish her harm.”
    31
    Chloe figured that was as close to an apology she was going to
    get for Mom’s rebuke. “Of course not,” she said.
    “Petra is a member of the Sixty-Seven Club,” Mom added qui-
    etly. “And our numbers are dwindling.”
    Sigrid leaned toward Chloe. “Marit was the baby in the class,”
    she said in an undertone.
    “It hasn’t been that long since Phyllis Hoff died,” Mom said.
    She looked at Sigrid. “How is Adelle Rimestad doing?”
    Sigrid shook her head. “Not well. Be sure to visit her while
    you’re here.”
    “Adelle has lung problems,” Violet whispered to Chloe.
    Somewhere in the dusty crannies of Chloe’s brain, a light bulb
    flickered on. No wonder Mom was ever eager to visit Decorah and
    see her friends. They were all older than she was. It must be hard for Mom to hear the latest litany of sad news … and ghastly to have the evening ruined by the discovery that one of the diminishing
    band had been attacked and left to die inside an immigrant trunk.
    They all jumped when the phone rang. Violet waved her
    mother off and answered it. “Hello? Oh, hey, Howard. Is there any
    news of … no, we haven’t heard any more either.” She listened. “Of course I’ll tell them … What?” Her shoulders slumped. “Sure, I can do that.” She replaced the receiver.
    “Well?” Sigrid asked. “Any news on Petra?”
    “No. Howard’s decided to have a breakfast for teachers and stu-
    dents at eight-thirty tomorrow morning. He’ll share whatever
    news he has then.” Violet gave a little shrug. “I agreed to bake muffins.”
    Chloe glanced at the clock. It was very late. “I can help, if you
    want.”
    32
    Violet shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ll do it. Howard’s like
    family.” She retrieved a large mixing bowl from a cupboard. “I’m
    supposed to be at work by eight, but fortunately I have a five-minute commute.” Violet, Chloe knew, worked as a secretary in the
    music department at Luther College.
    Mom pushed to her feet. “I need to go to bed.”
    “Me too.” Sigrid rose as well, and carried their mugs to the sink.
    “I won’t be able to teach a duck to swim tomorrow if I don’t get
    some sleep.”
    And the unteachable duck will likely be me, Chloe thought, as
    the older women left the room.
    “Maybe Petra will be all right,” Violet said. She opened the
    refrigerator and pulled out a carton of eggs. “If not, I’m afraid the police are going to end up with a pretty long list of suspects.”
    “Petra is …” Chloe hesitated, “disliked?”
    Violet cracked an egg into the mixing bowl. “It’s no secret.” She
    gave Chloe a What can