(Permission to use this excerpt from A Key Keepers Mystery: The Game Begins was granted by the publisher.)

Chapter 1--  A Last Wish

         “Oh, Mother, why aren’t you answering?  I know you’re there,” said Emma.  Alicia, her mom’s secretary, had put Emma on hold at least five minutes ago.  “Moth-er-please-pick-up-the-phone!” she cried, emphasizing each syllable as if that would make her mom do it.  Emma sighed.  “Why am I not surprised?”

        All the while she’d been waiting, Emma had bounced back and forth from one leg to the other.  She had twisted a knot in her hair and bitten down so hard on her bottom lip that she’d drawn blood.  “I can’t take this any longer!” she moaned.  Whirling around to Uncle Jack’s housekeeper, she said, “Hattie, please wait on the line for her.  I’ve got to go back to Uncle Jack.  Make her understand, Hattie.”  With that, Emma dropped the phone and raced back to her great-uncle’s bedside.

        “Uncle Jack, is there anything I can do to help you?  Are you comfortable?”

        Uncle Jack took her small hand in his and asked, “Were you able to reach your mother?  It’s very important that I talk to her.”  

        “We’re trying.  Hattie is on the phone with her now, I think.”  The look in his eyes urged it to be so.  Suddenly he started coughing, and Emma backed away so the doctor could attend to him.  The attack lasted for several minutes.  Then the doctor whispered something to Uncle Jack and stepped out of the room.

Uncle Jack patted the bed and motioned for Emma to sit down beside him.  “Emma,” he muttered weakly.

“Yes, Uncle?”

Drawing upon every ounce of strength he had left, he told Emma that it was time to face facts.

“Emma, the doc says my time is about up.”

“Please don’t talk that way.  Please, please get well,” Emma begged.

“I don’t like it anymore than you do, but that’s the way it is.  There’s no use crying about it.  That won’t change anything, and we have more urgent matters to discuss right now.  Are you ready to listen?”  Emma nodded and brushed away the tears on her cheeks.

        He paused and took a deep breath.  “Now you must listen to me carefully.  I have something very important to tell you.  I have a big responsibility to pass onto you.  You must remember everything I am about to say.”

        “Wait, Uncle Jack.  Let me get a tape recorder or something to write on.”

“No, Emma.  This can never be recorded anywhere.  It will be a lot for a child your age to remember, but you must—word for word—and then you must do as I tell you.”

As Emma turned to close the door, Jack grimaced and sighed deeply.  He hated to burden Emma with this.  She was so young, but she was the only one there he could fully trust to put his plan into action.

She returned to the bedside and knelt on the floor so she could be close to his face.  She would do anything for him.  He was like a father to her.  Jack Williams was her grandmother’s older brother, and he was really the only family she had other than her mother.  She had spent all her summers and holidays from boarding school with him.  Oh, where was her mother?  She was never around when Emma needed her.

        “I have always tried to take care of you and your mother ever since your grandparents died—and after your own father, of course.  I love you both as if you were my own.  You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” whispered Emma, trying to be brave and hold back her tears.  Although she was only eleven, actually almost twelve, she understood the gravity of the moment.

“You have become quite a young lady.  It seems like I just blinked, and here you are nearly grown.  Well, down to business,” he sighed.  “These things I’m about to tell you—you can’t tell anyone, not even your mother.  There is too much at stake.”

“But how can I keep this from her?”

        “You have to—for now.  It will take her some time to adjust, and I’m afraid she won’t take this seriously coming from a child.  Tell her only what she needs to know.  I have faith that you can do this, Emma, and when the time is right, you can tell her.  I had wanted to tell her myself, but now . . . well, it doesn’t look like that is going to happen.”

        “But how will I know when I should tell her?”

“Trust your instincts.  You’ll know,” he said.  “Now listen, Emma.  My Last Will and Testament will detail some of my wishes, but you should know that I have great treasures not mentioned in my will—or anywhere else.  Truthfully, there isn’t much money left for you and your mother so you must find these treasures.”

“Uncle, I know about your treasures.  Your house is full of them—all souvenirs from your travels and adventures.  It’s like a museum in here.”

“Yes, but there’s more . . . much more.  I have to explain some things to you, or my greatest treasure may be forever lost to this family.  This must be kept secret, Emma.  Maddie and Michael will be the only ones who can help you, but you must be careful how much you tell them.  At first tell them only what they need to know in order to help you.  All your futures depend on that.  Promise me.  You must trust me, and you must find my treasures before Victor does,” he implored.

Emma was confused.  “I promise, Uncle Jack, but who is Victor?  Should I know him?”

“No time to explain.  There will be many clues, Emma, but I have never written down these things for fear this information may fall into the wrong hands.  You must treat everything as if it might be a clue.”

Just then the doctor came back into the room.  Seeing the distress on his patient’s face, he asked Emma to leave for a moment.  “He needs to rest now.  I’ll let you know when you can come back in.”

“But, Dr. Samuels, he was trying to tell me something important.  Please let him finish.”

“In a minute, Emma.  He’s losing his strength quickly.  Let him rest.  I think Hattie has your mother on the phone out in the hall.  You may want to talk to her.”

Turning back to her great-uncle, Emma said, “I’ll be just outside in the hallway, Uncle Jack.  The doctor says you need to catch your breath.  Mother will be here soon.”  Emma prayed that was true.

[pic 15]

“Ms. Somersby, you have a call.”

        “I cannot take any calls now.  I told you that the last time you interrupted me,” barked Nanette Somersby.

“Ms. Somersby, I’m sorry, but it’s your daughter.”

“Alicia, is this an emergency?  Is Emma hurt?”

“I . . . I don’t think she’s hurt, but she sounds like she really needs to talk to you.”

 “Everything is a crisis with girls her age, Alicia.  Please tell her that I’ll call her back.  I just can’t talk to her right now.”

“Nanette, take the call.”  It wasn’t like Alicia to give her boss orders, but she had sensed the urgency in Emma’s voice.  “I think there’s something wrong.”

Nanette sighed and then picked up the phone, but no one was there.  “Hello?  Emma?  Is anyone there?  Hello???”

“Alicia, are you sure it was Emma?  There’s no one on the line.”  Just then a familiar, yet shaken, voice came over the phone.  It was Hattie, her Uncle Jack’s housekeeper.

“Hattie, what’s happened?  Is Emma okay?”

“Miss Emma’s fine, but ya must come now!”

“Hattie, I’m in the middle of something important.  Can it wait until this evening?”

 “Ms. Somersby, I’m not sure it’ll wait even an hour.  It’s your Uncle Jack.  I think he’s dyin’.  Ya must come now,” Hattie said with a commanding Irish accent.

        Uncle Jack was getting older, but he’d always been in good health.  Emma and Hattie must be over-reacting.  They doted on him so—but it was true that she hadn’t seen him in awhile.  She had been very busy lately, yet surely someone would have told her if he’d been ill.

This is just what I need, thought Nanette.  Another crisis!  “What’s happened, Hattie?  Have you called 9-1-1?”

        “Just hurry, hurry!” and then Nanette heard a click.  “Hattie?”—but no one was there.  They’d been disconnected.  She dialed back only to hear a busy signal. 

“Alicia, keep trying to call Uncle Jack’s house until you get an answer.  I don’t know what’s wrong, but according to Hattie this may be serious.  Be sure the paramedics are on their way.  If they take Uncle Jack to the hospital, call me on my cell phone and I’ll go straight there.”

This must be a mistake!   She would not panic, she told herself.  Just get there and find out what’s going on.  By the time she made the elevator flight down the twenty-nine floors of her steel gray, mirrored office building, her car was waiting for her.

As she wove her way through the afternoon traffic of New York City , her mind flooded with memories of Uncle Jack.  He was a most unusual character.  Some would even say eccentric.  Surely this wasn’t another one of his schemes.  As cruel as it might seem, faking his death sounded just like something he might cook up to get her attention.  After all, she hadn’t seen him in months. 

She recalled one antic from twenty years ago when he had accidentally cut himself shaving in the shower.  Blood from the nick had mingled with water and trickled all down his neck and chest.  He hadn’t cut himself that badly, but he couldn’t resist scaring the daylights out of everyone in the household. 

        He had thrown on his white, terrycloth bathrobe and stumbled down the hall moaning for someone to help him.  Falling to his knees and pretending to lose consciousness, he only confessed the prank when Hattie picked up the phone to call for an ambulance.  He had been quite pleased with himself, but Nanette and Hattie had been really mad!  They had sworn to never forgive him, but of course they had.

Oh, she hoped this was a prank, too, in spite of how angry she would feel.  What would Emma do without him?

The traffic wasn’t too congested for Manhattan , but the red lights seemed to take hours to turn green and the taxis were pushing their way in front of her.  Please don’t let me get stuck on the freeway, she prayed.   What if . . . ?  No, she wasn’t going to let her thoughts take her there.  Everything was going to be all right.

[pic 15]

        Jack Williams lived in Westchester County , New York —over an hour’s drive from Nanette’s office.  He had lived there with Hattie, his maid, for as long as Nanette could remember.  His gardener, Max, had died last year, and recently he had hired a new man, Jonathan.  He was much younger than Max, but Nanette had not met him.  Like Emma, Nanette had spent much time there growing up.  It was a fascinating estate.  Jack was a fascinating man.  How long had it been since she’d seen him?

About a month ago, Emma had mentioned that Uncle Jack needed to talk to her, but she hadn’t been able to make the time.  What if he had wanted to tell her he was sick?  What if he had wanted to explain his wishes to her in case he died?  It just couldn’t be too late.  This couldn’t be happening.  

Finally the turnoff to Greystone Manor.  A long, winding drive snaked from the road to the house, lined on either side with enormous old oaks that Nanette used to climb when she was younger.  She fancied them as her hiding places although Uncle Jack always found her with very little effort. 

He was forever telling her to come down from her tower in the heavens and enjoy the delights of the earth.  “You perch up there in that prickly nest like a timid sparrow just watching the world go by.  Fly down here and help me catch a worm!”  He wanted her to live a little!

That’s what Jack did.  He lived.  He didn’t die!  Nanette’s mother, who was also Jack’s sister, used to say that he was too adventurous for his own good—but in a strange twist of fate, it was Nanette’s mother and father who died in a skiing accident shortly after Nanette finished elementary school.  Although Nanette had gone to boarding school, Uncle Jack had cared for her and made certain that she had everything she needed.  He had been like a father to her.

At last she was there.  She parked her black sports car in the circular driveway and rushed up the grand steps to the mansion.  The door flew open, and Emma took her hand.  “Hurry, Mother!” she said as she pulled Nanette up the spiral staircase to Uncle Jack’s bedroom.

“Emma, slow down.  How is he?  This isn’t some kind of prank you two cooked up to get me out here, is it?”

        But as Nanette entered the ornate master bedroom, she was unprepared for what she saw.  This couldn’t be Jack Williams.  He was pale as a ghost, his skin a translucent gray.  He looked like a frail child lying in that enormous, antique four-poster bed.  “Uncle Jack,” she managed to squeak as she gently took his hand.  She looked up at the doctor, who explained that Mr. Williams had suffered a massive heart attack.  He just shook his head.

“The old codger refuses to go to the hospital,” Hattie informed her. “He won’t hear of it.  Ya just have to make him cooperate.”

Nanette couldn’t believe what she was witnessing.  “Oh, Uncle Jack, what can I do?”

“ Nan , ask them to leave.  I must talk to you—alone.”  These words were the first he’d spoken in over an hour.  At his bidding the others reluctantly left the room.

“Uncle Jack, please save your strength.  Let’s get you to the hospital and then we’ll talk.”

“No time for that.  Listen to me,” he struggled to say.  “There is so much I have to tell you.  First I must explain to you about Maddie and Michael.”

“What are you talking about?  Who are Maddie and Michael?”

“I am their . . . father,” he whispered, gasping for air.

“You are what?!” Nanette asked.  “What are you talking about, Uncle Jack?  You aren’t making sense.”

“Nannie, I promised their grandmother I would take care of them.  I promised her they would not be separated.”

“Are Maddie and Michael children?” asked Nanette.  Jack nodded.  “But what happened to their real parents?  Is there no other family?”

“That’s all I can tell you.  Time is short,” he labored to speak.

“How am I supposed to take care . . . ”

        At this Jack raised his head off the pillow and interrupted her.  “I wanted to tell you before, but now there’s no time.”

Suddenly he looked out the window.  A peaceful expression came over his face.  With a smile and a familiar, mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he said, “It’s time to fly, Nannie.  Time to fly.”  After a pause he strained to add, “The children will help you.  You must listen to them.”   Then his head fell back onto the pillow.

“Doctor,” shrieked Nanette.  “Hurry, help him!”  Emma rushed to his side first, but others ran into the room behind the doctor.  There was nothing more to be done.  They were losing him.

“Oh, Uncle Jack, please don’t leave us like this,” pleaded Emma.  “Please stay,” she sobbed.  “I don’t understand.”

In all the confusion, Jack squeezed Emma’s hand and struggled to whisper his final words to her in secret.  “My greatest treasure can be found in the keys.  Look there first—in the west . . .”