Last Will and Testament

Last Will and Testament
Home is where the art is.
by L. M. Everhart

         "We don't want to see any homes in this part of town!" Ellen protested.

         Bob scowled at the neighborhood.

         Regardless, Margaret, real estate agent of the year (six years running) only smiled and parked her SUV in the drive of a very ordinary brick ranch.

         "Trust me.  All I'm asking is one quick look."

         "Okay, I looked," Bob huffed.  "It's not what we want."

         "Inside!"  Margaret teased.  She climbed out and marched toward the house.  Bob and Ellen followed reluctantly.

         "Leave your shoes here," Margaret said as she unlocked the door.

         Ellen mumbled, "She's got to be kidding."

         In stocking feet, they stepped into a dark foyer.  Margaret flipped a switch.  Bob and Ellen gasped in unison.

         A short hall opened into a luxuriant living area.  Their feet sank in plush, royal blue carpeting.  The vaulted ceiling shone with mirrors and stained glass in silver frames.  Margaret touched a button that drew a wall of white satin curtains aside, revealing French windows overlooking a fenced patio and garden.

         Ellen stared up at a crystal chandelier, dripping with seed pearls.  "It's Italian, hand-blown glass," she said as if in a dream.  Turning slowly, her eyes widened as the gourmet kitchen came into view, with stainless steel appliances reflecting mahogany cabinets and marble countertops.

         "What's the deal?"  Bob questioned, as Ellen wandered off through an arched doorway.

         "It's the dying wish of Will Lovell,"  Margaret said.  "He wanted his hideaway sold to an artist.  Since you're both of that profession … well, here we are.  Everything you see stays with the house, and …"

         A scream interrupted her sales pitch.  Bob and Margaret rushed toward the sound and followed lights to the basement.  Ellen was on her knees in front of a man encased in glass.

         "I'm so sorry!"  Margaret apologized. "That's Will.  I'm afraid he stays with the house, too."

         "It's okay, Ellen," Bob said as he helped her up.  "We can put a tablecloth over him and no one will notice."

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