Beads of Doubt (35 page)

“Earl,” Mrs. Yancy said to him. “Enough.”

He turned to face her, and his whole body sagged. “Is it true?” he whispered.

She nodded briefly and turned away.

Now Earl Yancy sat in a chair in the corner, his head in his hands, rocking from side to side as they snapped handcuffs onto his wife’s wrists.

Before they took Mrs. Yancy to the police car, I squeezed her arm. “Thanks for saving my life. If I can help you with finding an attorney, or anything at all, please call me.”

Her face was bleached white, and she looked very old, but she straightened her shoulders and said, “Thank you, Miss Camden.”

As she shuffled out the door, flanked by policemen, my eyes turned to her husband. He had raised his head and watched her go, his shoulders sagging, eyes forlorn. I walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Do you have someone to stay with?” I asked gently.

He looked up at me, his face haggard. “I’m staying here. She’ll be back soon.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said. I gave him my phone number to call if he needed me. He wadded it up and stuck it into his pants pocket without looking at me.

A minute later, Nate showed up, and after I gave the police my statement, he escorted me home.

Now, in the Manse kitchen, Nate moved his hands up to rub my neck as I sipped my iced tea. It was a relief to be back at the Manse, and Nate’s gentle neck massage felt like heaven. “So it was the Yancys after all,” he said.

“Not both of them. Just her.” I shook my head. “And then Keith covered it up for her.”

“And was prepared to kill you to do it.”

I shivered under his warm hands. “Yesterday I was convinced it was Sandy Corcoran. And for a while, I even thought it might be Bruce.” I thought of Delphine’s fabulous cooking and Bruce’s warm smile, and was relieved I had been wrong. As I told Nate what Granger had discovered about Andrew’s business partner, the phone rang. It was Katie.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

“Much better now,” I said, and filled her in on the details. I didn’t tell her everything about Houston, just that he was innocent of murder and that he’d decided to drop the push to transfer the Manse. At least I hoped he had—he still hadn’t responded to my offer.

“Thank God they caught the murderer,” she said.

“I know. And we won’t have a custody battle over the Manse, either.” Hopefully not, anyway. “By the way, Rebecca’s in remission.”

Katie gasped. “That’s wonderful news! So the chemo worked?”

“Looks like it,” I said, looking at the tourmaline beads Beth had left on the counter. At least one victim had escaped. The phone beeped in my ear. “I’ve got another call—can I ring you back?”

“Of course,” she said. “So glad everything’s working out.”

“Give the kids my love,” I said, and clicked over.

“Kitzi?” It was Houston.

“Houston.” I sat up and straightened my back.

“I thought about your proposition last night, and I think . . . I think I’ll take you up on it, if it’s still open.”

Relief washed through me. I’d thrown him a lifeline, and he’d taken it. “It is. We’re going to have some work to do, though.” I told him about Mrs. Yancy, and then gave him the rundown on what Granger had discovered about Corcoran, who was already in custody. The police were on their way to intercept Lauren at the Holiday Inn in Galveston.

He sucked in his breath. “God. I had no idea.”

“Neither did Andrew’s clients. Look, why don’t I call Gregg Jacques and see what he can do? You may have some fraud charges in the wake of all of this, and he’ll be able to help you out.”

“What about Harrington?”

I remembered the pompous lawyer who had called me just before the Bead Tea began. I was willing to help out, but not if it meant dealing with Harrington. “If we’re going to do this, I want to go with Gregg.”

He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was resigned. “All right.”

“I have an appointment with him at ten thirty tomorrow. Why don’t you meet me there?”

“I’ll plan on it.”

When I hung up, Nate eyed me quizzically, but I didn’t mention Houston’s gambling problem. It was hard enough for Houston that I knew. Instead I changed the subject. “Did you know Lauren was involved, too?”

“With the murder?”

“No. She was Corcoran’s partner.” I told him what the police had discovered about Corcoran’s true identity, and the scams that he and Lauren, a.k.a. Leila, had run in the past.

“So we were right,” he said. “It was a Ponzi scheme.” He shook his head. “It’s a shame about Lauren. I liked her.”

“Me, too. For a few minutes, I thought she might be the murderer, but it just didn’t feel right.” I sighed. “I’m just hoping Andrew’s clients can get their money back. The Yancys are going to need it to pay lawyers’ fees.”

“Ah, yes. The Yancys. Why the heck didn’t you tell anyone where you were going?” he asked.

“I just didn’t think, I guess.”

“Well, it’s lucky for you Mrs. Yancy has a conscience.”

“Hey, I could have taken him down with the hedge clippers.”

“Miss Kitzi, the next time you decide to play Nancy Drew, at least make sure Ned knows where you’re going.”

I turned and batted my eyelashes at him. “Are you applying for the job?”

“If you’ll have me, ma’am.”

I smiled. “I’d be delighted.”

“That’s a good thing,” he said, “because on my way over to pick you up, I called my travel agent.”

I sat upright. “Why? Are you going on a trip?”

“I hope so. How does South Padre sound?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, with the Bead Tea, your cousin trying to take over the house, Andrew’s death, and everything else that’s been going on around here, you need a vacation.”

“But what about Tess? And Beth? I still don’t know what happened with Shannan and Ron . . .”

He stroked my forehead. “Relax, Kitzi. We’ll visit Tess before we go, and then again when we get back. And Beth knows your cell phone number, doesn’t she?”

He was right. I closed my eyes as his strong hands massaged my neck. Long walks on sandy beaches, cold margaritas, the wind through my red hair . . . “Nate,” I murmured, “you’re incredible.”

He leaned down to kiss me. Just before our lips touched, he whispered, “So are you.”

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Patterns courtesy of Beadz! in Austin, Texas.

Dear Reader:

 

It saddens me to say that
Beads of Doubt
is the last work written by Barbara Burnett Smith, a talented writer whose bubbly personality shone through on every page she wrote. As I’m sure you already know, Barbara was an amazing writer. But she was also a friend and mentor to countless people, including me.

On February 19, 2005, Barbara was killed in a car accident in San Antonio, Texas. She left behind not just a huge circle of family and friends, but an unfinished manuscript.
Beads of Doubt
, the second book in the Kitzi Camden beading mystery series.

When Barbara’s husband Gary Petry asked me to finish the book, I was honored by the request. Although I will never be Barbara, I have done my best to finish
Beads of Doubt
as Barbara would have wanted.

As you read
Beads of Doubt
, you’ll notice that ovarian cancer figures prominently in the storyline. The reason for this is deeply personal: Barbara’s sister Carol died of the disease only a few months before Barbara’s tragic death.
Beads of Doubt
was, on some levels, Barbara’s tribute to her sister—and her way of spreading the word about this dreadful disease, which often goes undetected until it is too late.

Although ovarian cancer is a fairly common disease, there’s still a lot of research to be done—both on finding a good method for early detection and on new ways to treat the disease. Please consider making a contribution to the Ovarian Cancer Research Foundation. Every penny counts toward finding a screening test that can catch this deadly disease early enough to stop its spread.

And as for Barbara? I miss her every day. She was a fabulous writer, a warm and loving friend, and an incredible person with an unquenchable enthusiasm for life. I am honored to have helped
Beads of Doubt
shine a little more of her light, even though she herself is gone.

 

All best,
Karen MacInerney

The National Ovarian Cancer Coalition (NOCC) is the leading nonprofit organization whose mission is to raise awareness and provide ovarian cancer education and support to women and their families across the country.

 

Ovarian cancer ranks fifth as the cause of cancer death among women and is the number one killer among women’s reproductive cancers. Due to the subtle symptoms and lack of a screening test, 75 percent of women with ovarian cancer are diagnosed in the late stages when the prognosis is poor. If detected in the early stages, the five-year survival rate is 90 percent.

 

To improve these grim statistics, NOCC recently launched the “Break the Silence” campaign to jumpstart public dialogue and awareness of the symptoms of and risk factors for ovarian cancer, and to ultimately improve survival rates. To facilitate physician discussions, a downloadable “Conversation Starter” is available at
www.ovarian.org
to help women effectively prepare questions.

 

Committed volunteers continue to advance NOCC’s mission through a toll-free helpline, comprehensive website, peer support, professional education, and the promotion of research and educational programs that facilitate greater awareness and dialogue about ovarian cancer.

 

For more information or to make a donation, contact the National Ovarian Cancer Coalition by visiting
www.ovarian.org
or calling 1-888-OVARIAN.

Barbara’s passing in 2005 was deeply felt by many. In her memory, the Barbara Burnett Smith Mentoring Authors Foundation will allow countless others to benefit from her spirit and inspiration. The Barbara Burnett Smith Mentoring Authors Foundation is dedicated to the support and growth of a mentoring community for writers. It is our goal to see her spirit live on and change the lives of others as Barbara changed all of ours.