The Ghost and The Haunted Mansion by Alice Kimberly Page B

me, and I bit my tongue to keep from laughing.
    “Wait till I tell Brainert!” Seymour grinned at us with the thought. “I’m going to be neighbors with half the St. Francis deans! That little academic snob will turn pea green with envy!”
    Mr. Stoddard fingered his cuff links. “So, Mr. Tarnish, let me confirm. You aren’t interested in renting the property? Is that right?”
    “That’s right.”
    “But what about selling it?”
    “Selling it?”
    “Yes, take a look at this.”
    Stoddard opened a manila folder on his desk. Then he turned it around so Seymour could read the document filed inside. The expensive stationery bore the gold-embossed letterhead of The Lindsey-Tilton Partnership, LLC.
    “As Miss Todd’s legal representative, I received this offer early in the year. As you can see, it is quite generous—”
    Seymour whistled. “They offered Miss Todd a million bucks for that old house?”
    Stoddard nodded. “An executive from the Lindsey-Tilton group has been tracking the steadily growing success of the Finch Inn, and planned to turn Todd Mansion into the town’s second bed-and-breakfast. The Larchmont address affords easy access to the hiking and birder trails in Montague’s Woods, and is additionally a quick trip to the fishing at Mullet Point. Your town’s restored Art Deco cinema and its well-publicized film programs are creating quite a sensation in our region, and Chez Finch just got that rave review in the Providence paper.”
    “How did Miss Todd respond to this offer?” Seymour asked.
    “As you know, Timothea was getting on in years and was not in the best of health. I tried to convince her to take the deal, move to a beautiful seaside retirement home in Newport, but she refused.”
    Stoddard placed his palms down on the desk and leaned forward. “In fact, it was shortly after this letter arrived that Miss Todd altered the will in your favor.”
    “Who was to inherit the house before the amendment?” I asked.
    Mr. Stoddard’s gaze shifted to me. “Miss Todd has a surviving sister, who was originally named in the will.”
    “A sister?” I said. I turned to my aunt. “Did you know Miss Todd had a living sister?”
    Aunt Sadie shook her head. “She never mentioned one.”
    I recalled the well-dressed older woman we’d passed on our way into Stoddard’s office—the one with the Mercedes, the chauffeur, and the chilly attitude. I leaned toward the lawyer.
    “Who is this sister? What’s her name? Was it the older woman who had the appointment before ours?”
    Mr. Stoddard frowned. “For now, at her request, the identity of Miss Todd’s sister is to remain a private matter.” He turned to Seymour. “Of course, the terms of Miss Todd’s will are quite restrictive, and quite clear. You are not to sell or lease the house, lest you risk losing the monies from the trust fund. However . . .” The lawyer paused. “If you actually did wish to sell the property for the million-dollar offer, the money from the trust fund would become moot, anyway. Clearly, you would no longer need it.”
    “Yeah,” Seymour said, nodding. “I understand.”
    “So, although Miss Todd wanted you to keep the house, it’s really up to you, Mr. Tarnish. Once the title is legally transferred—as I mentioned, in six to eight weeks—you are free to ignore Miss Todd’s wishes and dispose of the property in any way you see fit. And, of course, I’m in a position to expedite the tangle of legal issues and paperwork. I am at your service.”
    “Thanks, Mr. Stoddard,” Seymour said. “I mean, if I decide to sell, you’ll be the guy I call—seeing as how you’re the only lawyer I know!” He laughed. “But like I said, there’s no way I’m going to pass up this chance to be part of the Larchmont set.”
    A gust of chilly air tickled the nape of my neck.
    Just like a slip-and-fall school graduate to talk out of both sides of his mouth.
    “It does sound like Mr. Stoddard is pushing Seymour to