Baby

mantle showcased Robert’s valuable collection of antique American gold coins. She often spied him in the library, slobbering over them as if they were his children. The collection frequently impressed guests that stopped by to request favors or seek his advice.
    She went to sit at her husband’s extraordinary partner’s desk, the top made of the richest burled walnut. A partner’s lamp made by the talented Louis Comfort Tiffany rested comfortably where it could reflect the warmth of the fireplace. She pulled on the chain, casting light over the hand carved body of the desk. It was while admiring the intricate dark walnut carvings of the desk, that she innocently discovered her husband’s dark secrets. Accidently pressing a small carved bump that was part of the design on the inside wall of the cubby for her husband’s legs, she discovered a secret panel. Upon her excited investigation, she discovered the source of this unexplained wealth. It certainly was not family money as everyone assumed. For inside the secret panel, she also uncovered a shelf that held a copy of Robert’s father’s will.
    Robert stood to inherit nothing. Except for the family townhouse, deeded to his five elder sisters, there was little of the Doyle fortune left. Expensive wedding dowries and even more expensive weddings, severely drained his father. Such is the cost of attracting suitably wealthy husbands. His sisters were set. Netty also uncovered receipts from the town clerk that showed Robert paid the taxes and upkeep of the family townhome. Hmm, she thought , Robert was not known to be generous. This came as quite a surprise.
    Upon further investigation, she found receipts for large sums of money to several town fathers. He now wielded much power and influence in their city. He ruled the county courthouse, bowed and scraped to, accordingly. She realized things were starting to add up, yet it made the question of why he married her even more mysterious. And what about the source of all of his money; her suspicions flamed wildly.
    And there it was, pushed to the very back of the secret drawer; a ledger, dog-eared and covered with spills, but legible. The ledger also contained payroll records, listing most of the names of his so-called friends and business partners. Taking in the columns of numbers along with dates and times, it became clear. They were his employees. Last but not least was a detailed account of shipping intake and disbursements. Glancing at the materials list any fool could see that her husband was a gin and rum-runner. Law enforcement clearly rested in his back pocket. The late night partying at the carriage house now took on a new light. It also explained the presence of the thuggish strangers that seemed ever-present back there during the day.
    Would it be possible to use this information to obtain her release? She often thought of murdering her husband to end her imprisonment, but knew she could not face her Lord if she took a life.
    As she shuffled the papers and ledger back to their hiding place, her hands dislodged an envelope previously overlooked. Glancing at it quickly, she saw it was the Last Will and Testament of James Woods; her Mr. Woods. It took her many years to begin to heal from the death of her mother and just as long to bury her hurt and disappointment with Mr. Woods’ abandonment. Perhaps he thought, now that she was married, her days occupied her to the exclusion of old friends. She failed time and time again to convince Robert to let her visit him. Finally Robert confessed to her that Mr. Woods passed shortly after her mother’s death. It was presumed to be a heart attack, as he was found in an alley, not far from his home. He added the rumor that the family inherited a sizeable fortune.
    Netty ran her fingers tenderly over Mr. Woods’ name, wondering why his will was in Robert’s possession.
    Out of curiosity, Netty opened the contents of the envelope. Most of the text seemed to have been written in legalese and jargon unfamiliar to her. She recognized the names of members of Mr. Woods’ family. Yes, she could see he left them well taken care of. Suddenly, she recognized her very own name on the last page; Jeannette Elizabeth Woods Smith. Woods? What was that all about? Quite an odd mistake. Tears dropped softly to her lap as she realized Mr. Woods did not forget her at all. Reading on, she realized he bequeathed to her all of the 2000 acres surrounding the cabin her family lived in. She