A Secondhand Murder (23 page)

“
No. I was going to, but before we could talk, someone killed her.”

“
Someone? So you don't think it was Dwight?”

Mr. Sanders' face reddened. “Of course not.”

“
Fine. I don't think Dwight did it either, but the authorities seem happy to wrap up the case by saying that Dwight was murdered by a drug deal gone wrong.”

“
Dwight wasn't involved with drugs.”

Now that was the song sung by all clueless parents.

“
I don't see what this has to do with the locket and Grandy unless you think she'll take pity on a jewel-less family. Maybe that's a tragedy in West Palm, but it's not where we come from.”

Sanders' face told me he was weighing his options. Option “A” had been the sympathy plea, but that didn't seem to be working. So this time around, he opted for plan “B.” “I'll find the money to pay for it.”

I laughed hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. He certainly didn't know my Grandy. Money couldn't sway her.

“
Sure.” I wiped my eyes on my shirtsleeve. “I'd be happy to hook you up with Grandy.” This story seemed typical and arrogant. Both Valerie's family and the Sanders clan had underestimated what the locket meant to Grandy. It wasn't about the money. It was about love.

I thought Grandy needed some humor in her life right now, given the miserable weather, so I flipped open my cell and left Sanders standing in the front of the store while I wandered out back. To my surprise, I didn't get the chuckle I had expected, but she did me one better. A loud toot like an auditory sneer came through the phone. “Well, we sure can't fish in this weather. We'll head on up there.”

“
Hold on a minute.” I turned to Sanders. “She'll be here in three hours.”

“
Make it two,” he said. “We can meet at my house.”

Imperious man. He wanted a favor yet thought he could dictate the terms.

“
Fine. Give me directions,” said Grandy, who was still waiting on the line.

I whispered into the cell. “This guy makes me nervous. Are you sure you want to meet on his turf?”

“
I'll have Max with me. Why don't you call Alex?”

Because I don't trust Alex either
, I thought. I didn't say it out loud because Grandy would have just given me the lecture on good guys and bad guys again.

Several hours later, I pulled into the Sanders' drive and parked my rental alongside several other cars—a Beemer convertible, a Lexus, and two Mercedes. I hadn't had time to shop for another car, and my rented Ford Focus looked like Cinderella's pumpkin a day after the ball. Grandy and Max's car wasn't there yet. Should I wait for them before going into the house? Another vehicle pulled into the drive, one that was familiar to me. It was the black SUV owned by Mr. Napolitani.

The driver's-side window went down and the dark, handsome head of Nappi Napolitani appeared, gleaming smile and all.

“
I have something I'd like to give to you.” He handed me a large manila envelope.

I opened it and pulled out Jerry's ownership papers.

“
So you were the one responsible for nabbing these from under my pillow. Why? I thought we were on the same side.”

“
Of course we are, but I was worried that your hiding place wasn't as secure as the one that I could provide, so I was just holding onto them for you.”

“
Why not give them to Jerry?”

Napolitani's face darkened. “He hasn't contacted me or my daughter. I'm looking for him.”

“
You know the police are, too.”

He waved a dismissive, manicured hand at me. “Police. Ha.”

“
Sanders told them he was the one who kidnapped me.”

Napolitani gave a derisive snort. “You show these papers to Sanders and tell him that you got them from me. He'd like to get them back, and we might even agree to that if he changes his story about Jerry. Right?”

“
No, we wouldn't agree to that. Jerry sold my divorce settlement, tiny as it was, by turning that property over to Sanders.”

“
We'll work out something.” The window rolled up. Napolitani drove off.

I stood there, dumbfounded, holding the envelope. I didn't know much about what was going on with Napolitani, Jerry, or the Sanders family so I hoped that Grandy and Max would be better than I was at dealing with the rich and the criminally inclined.

Alex's car pulled into the drive.
Hey, hey, the gang's all here
. I hadn't called him.
Wonder who did.
Or was he just getting accustomed to popping in for visits every now and then? “You,” I said.

“
Me. I guess you're not too happy to see me.”

That wasn't true. I loved seeing those eyes, imagining the feel of his sun-streaked hair against my fingers and dreaming of his hands on my shoulders, his lips on mine and … But, no! I wasn't happy about seeing him here, despite my daydreams of us being together, in bed. The real-life Alex had too many secrets.

I ignored his comment and rang the bell. To my surprise, Cory Burnside answered. Beyond her, in the large living room, I could see Randolph, Leon, his daughter Constance, and her husband Eduardo. That other woman, Marie Someone—the one I saw at the funeral, who looked like Eduardo's female clone—was also there. I walked past Cory, my heels making a click-clacking noise on the marble floor.

“
The wealthy plead their case. Great title for a reality show.” I threw my purse on the couch, fell into the leather chair next to it and crossed my legs.

Leon raised his arm and looked at his Rolex. “Your grandmother's late.”

“
I think your watch is fast. I set mine by the short wave radio in my house. It's accurate. Maybe you need to have your battery checked.” I tapped my Timex with the black faux-leather band.

He made a sound that sounded much like a “hurrumph.” Good. I had provoked him.

The bell rang again. This time Randolph went to the door. He showed Max and Grandy in. I hugged them both and whispered in Grandy's ear, “Careful of these vultures.” She patted my cheek with a look that said she'd handled worse.

Leon didn't even ask them to sit down before he started making demands. “I want you to return the locket you took from Valerie's family.”

Randolph cleared his throat. “I don't think that's the best approach to use, old man. Let's everyone sit and we'll discuss this.” He gestured to the couch. Grandy and Max sat. Randolph introduced everyone, including himself, Cory and Stella, the clone, who turned out to be someone's personal secretary.

“
Why are you here, Randolph?” I asked.

“
Leon is upset, given the recent events—you know, the murder of both his wife and son. He asked me to speak for him.”

“
You should have spoken first then, before he could piss everyone off.”

Randolph smiled and nodded. “I'm sure Leon is sorry he acted so …”

“
Imperious?” I said. “Demanding? So much like an ass?”

Randolph chose to ignore my words. “The jewels from the Warton family and from the Sanders family are gone, pawned by Valerie in a desperate attempt to raise money. She was, of course, trying to repair the damage inflicted by your husband.” He shot me a look of contempt. And here I had thought that Randolph liked me.

“
Ex
-husband. And he was cleared of all charges,” Grandy said.

“
Whatever.” Randolph waved away her remark in that oh so irritating manner that the wealthy often have. “Because Valerie loved that locket so ….” Grandy and I both snorted. “Because her daughter would like something to remind her of her mother, we're asking you to consider returning it. For a price, of course.”

I got out of my chair and wandered over to the bar, lifting the scotch bottle in order to examine it. Leon came over and pulled it out of my hand. He pointedly set it down beyond my reach.

“
Why don't you take the money that Valerie got from pawning the jewels and just buy them back?” asked Grandy.

There was silence in the room. Randolph spoke. “May I tell them, Leon?” Leon nodded. “They don't have the money. It's gone.”

“
Gone? Gone where?” asked Max.

Leon shrugged. “We have no idea.”

I looked around the room. Since I didn't believe that Dwight had killed his stepmother, I figured that someone in this room was probably guilty of her murder and might have had a hand in Dwight's as well. The money from the jewelry? From what Valerie had said to me and Cory, it would seem that she had invested it somehow, somewhere.

“
Any ideas, Cory?” I asked.

“
How should I know? I wasn't with her when she went to those awful places to sell the stuff.”

“
How about you, Alex? You were following her. Did she ever go to a bank or an investment firm?”

“
No.” If he felt like I was attacking him, he didn't show it. He remained his cool self, leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb by the pool area. “She kept her usual schedule in the afternoon, either going to the stables, to Sabal City, or out to lunch with Cory and her other friends.”

Leon pushed Randolph aside. “This is getting us nowhere. Now what about that locket?”

Grandy pulled the locket from beneath her shirt and held it in her hand. “I came here to let you know face-to-face that I won't let the locket go. I can understand how you feel about losing the other family heirlooms, but this locket was Franklin's to give to me. It signifies our love for each other. That means more than money. The family took him away from me, but it can't take what he meant to me away. Not then. Not now. Not ever.”

Constance exploded out of her chair, leaped across the room and grabbed Grandy's hand. “Give me that. It's mine. Take your fat maid's hands off it. I need it.”

Alex took her by the shoulders and tried to pull her away from Grandy, but Constance grasped the locket and wouldn't let go. The gold chain broke and the locket fell onto the marble floor where Constance made a dive for it. Surprisingly, Eduardo stepped in and grabbed the jewelry out of her reach.

“
Control yourself, my dear.” He held the locket up and let the heart dangle from his hand. “This is not important.” His cold eyes held her wild ones and his long fingers reached out and wrapped around her upper arm. His grasp was so powerful that I was certain there would be bruise marks by evening. She slapped his hand away and ran from the room. Eduardo tipped his head toward Ms. Clone, and she followed promptly after.

Eduardo handed the locket back to Grandy. “We're not finished yet, you know. The locket belongs in this family. I will find a way to recover what is ours.”

Eduardo stood over Grandy, his tall slim body swaying slightly, like a cobra moving in time to a flute player's music. The hairs of my neck stood on end. The corners of his mouth turned upward and formed a smile, then he walked out of the room, leaving behind him a chill, as if someone had left the door to cold storage open. Another figure entered the room.

“
Mr. Napolitani,” said Grandy.

No one in the room asked who he was. Did Leon Sanders and the Burnsides know him? Or was Napolitani's appearance so imposing that they didn't dare question his right to be there?

He held out his hand. I knew what he wanted. He didn't trust me to do the deal with Sanders. I scrounged in my bag and pulled out the manila envelope. He took it and offered it to Leon.

“
You may be interested in these. If it's money you need, we might make some kind of a deal.”

“
What about Jerry?” Now I understood. Napolitani had no interest in saving Jerry.

Leon opened the envelope and looked through the papers. “I didn't even know these were gone.”

From the look on Napolitani's face, it was clear that he thought Leon was lying. He let it go. “If we make a deal, you will never,
ever
bother this woman about that locket again.” His black eyes moved from Sanders' face and softened when they came to rest on Grandy's.

“
I can't control what my son-in-law might do. His methods are, well, unusual.”

“
Figure it out. My methods are more unusual. I'll let you think about it.” Napolitani turned and walked out the door.

I ran after him.

“
Hey, buddy. You just gave away my divorce settlement.”

Oops
. I shouldn't have been so accusatory. I saw Napolitani's eyes flash once, caught in the porch lighting. He turned and walked back toward me. My mind considered for a moment what “unusual” methods he might use on the front lawn of a has-been multimillionaire's house.

He took my hand in his. I wondered if I would still be able to run the shop with several broken fingers. I couldn't back down. I had so little—the shop, a few bucks in the bank, and a loan from my ex-husband.

“
This is what you meant by ‘working something out'?” I gave him an accusatory look.