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“Any idea what that was?” The sheriff asked.

“Not something on the wing. I'd guess hunters checking in with each other.”

The sheriff frowned, “Any problems with squatters? Or others you might not want using your land?”

“It's hunting season—always have to chase a few off this time of year. The land is posted private but that doesn't seem to mean much. The boys keep an eye out for anything else. We're isolated here that's always an invite to take advantage.”

“I don't need to tell everyone not to touch anything.” The sheriff pointed to a water bottle and a wadded burger wrapper. “I'll get the boys down here later.”

“So I didn't see anything after all. I mean there apparently was nothing to see.” Elaine sounded dejected. “I don't know what reason there could have been to abduct me.”

Dan was beginning to feel the morning had been wasted. “I agree. Someone went to a lot of trouble to just get your car.”

“And Amber…do you think she left the property or was she…detained here?” Elaine turned to the sheriff.

“Time frame would have her still around here—if Penny was accurate about when she left work. Seems like there's a piece of the puzzle that should be apparent but I'm not seeing it. I need to get the boys out there in the woods, too—do a little bird hunting. I'll call if anything turns up. I may need you later, but you're free to go now.”And with that the sheriff walked back to the ATVs.

***

Dan opened the car door, then paused. “How about coming with me to pay a visit to Gert.” He wasn't willing to let the whole morning be a wash.

“You haven't told her about the theft?”

“Finding you kinda got in the way of things.”

“Oh? Is that a complaint? Maybe I should disappear again.”

“Not on your life. You're not getting out of my sight. I'd asked the sheriff to go with me but I doubt he can get away anytime soon. Come on, let's go break the bad news. ”

Gert was raking the yard when they pulled up, but insisted they all go in for a nice cup of tea. And it wasn't until this ritual was complete and they were sitting around the dining room table that Dan broached the subject of the necklace.

“I was able to meet with Mr. Ortega himself. I'm sorry I didn't get back to you yesterday.”

“Oh my, finding Elaine safe and sound was more important than a report on the necklace. I just knew you had gotten turned around in the woods when you went for gas. It's so easy to do.” Gert leaned in to pat Elaine's hand. “Welcome back, dear.”

Penny must have come up with that story and it was actually better than having to explain what really happened.

“Now, I'm sure you're going to tell me I'm dreadfully underinsured. And if my premium goes up, well, that's all a part of owning such a unique piece of history. How do you put a price tag on keeping your dearest possession protected?”

Dan wished she didn't look so chipper…and trusting and hadn't referred to the necklace as her “dearest possession.” To say this wasn't going to be easy was an understatement. Big time.

“I need to treat this as a deposition. May I use a recorder?” A nod from Gert, and Dan placed the small compact Sony on the table between them and turned it on. “I have a list of questions that we'll need to address.”

“Of course.”

Dan took a breath, “Before we could even begin the appraisal, Mr. Ortega informed me that this was the third time he'd seen the necklace in as many months.”

“How could he have seen the necklace?”

Dan paused, then “It was brought in so that a certain number of diamonds could be removed and sold. He was also instructed to replace those taken out with Russian zirconia.”

Had he thought she might have been behind the ruse? It had crossed his mind but not this kind of duplicity, double dipping—sell the diamonds piecemeal and declare the necklace stolen for full payout. The gasp put his questions to rest.

“Who…?” Gert grasped the edge of the table with both hands, her voice was barely a whisper and for a moment, Dan wondered if Gert's heart was strong enough for what was turning out to be a shock.

“Mr. Ortega had no reason to think it wasn't being done per your instructions. Mr. Woods from the bank brought the necklace in all three times.” Dan took an envelope out of his jacket pocket, “This gave him full authority to do what he thought was your request.” Dan placed the copy of the contract that she had supposedly signed on the table in front of her.

Gert leaned in and studied the signature but didn't touch the paper. “I've never seen this and I certainly never signed it.” Gingerly, with an extended index finger she pushed it away from her.

“Is that your signature?” He had to ask.

“Yes, but it's clearly a forgery. I never signed this…this falsehood, this lie.”

“Before we go further, I want to assure you that the necklace is covered for theft. Those diamonds will be replaced by equivalent gems and the necklace's worth restored. We simply need to make certain that the sales—three separate sales—of diamonds removed from the necklace were not authorized by you.”

“I understand. This is simply a part of your job.” There was a tremor in her right hand.

The worst part, Dan thought as he watched Gert's mouth pull into a prim, straight line. Her hands, tightly folded, now back in her lap.

“But it won't be the same. The diamonds that are gone are a part of history. The necklace was there; turn of the century, Teddy Roosevelt…of course, the
Titanic
. Louis Tiffany handpicked all the stones—big ones, smaller ones. No, there's no replacing that.”

“I agree. That is truly what has been lost—a slice of time.” Dan leaned his elbows on the table and met Gert's stare. “Was there anyone else besides yourself who could have had access to the safe deposit box?”

“Penny, of course.” Involuntarily Gert's two hands flew to cover her mouth. “You couldn't think…you don't…Penny…maybe Mr. Woods used some sort of master code and got into the box and took the necklace…but Penny? That's not possible.” She looked over at Dan, “Mr. Woods would have had access to my signature. It's going to be difficult to prove his involvement now. But I don't think stealing diamonds is a reason for suicide.”

“Mr. Woods' death has been ruled a homicide.”

A stifled gasp, “Oh, my. I didn't know.”

“I also need to ask you about another incident. When the claim was originally filed, you stated that the necklace was in your safe deposit box at the time of the break-in.”

“That's true, it was.”

“Last week Penny came to me with the necklace. She told me she had found it in the guest room—your guest room here at the house. It had been put between the mattress and box spring. She said that you sometimes put it there?”

“Never.”

“Not even if someone came to the door and you needed to get it out of view quickly?”

“No.” Gert was now sitting bolt upright.

“Penny told me that she thought you had put it there and had forgotten about it. The rest of the story you know—she asked Mr. Woods to ‘find it' using the excuse of confusion caused by the break-in for it having been misplaced. He offered to safeguard it at the bank but you opted to bring it home.”

“Mr. Mahoney, stop right there. I've heard enough. I am not senile. The things you're saying simply did not happen. To the best of my knowledge the necklace had remained in the safe deposit box after I had removed it to clean it.” Gert pushed back from the table and stood. “I'm saddened that you feel you need to point a finger at Penny. Yet, I've not known you to be a dishonest man. If I am to believe you then I must acknowledge my daughter is lying. That she has been stealing from her own mother. I need to do some thinking. Leave the necklace with Mr. Ortega. When I've gotten to the bottom of this, I'd like you to take me to Santa Fe to meet with him. Until then, the necklace is safe.”

Gert walked them to the door. “I appreciate your candor. I imagine the personal stories could make your work difficult.” Another quick squeeze of Elaine's hand and she opened the door.

“I'm sorry I had to be the messenger—”

“I needed to know. If circumstances are, in fact, what they appear…well then, I have decisions to make.”

A hug seemed to be called for but Gert's ramrod straight spine and pursed mouth made him hesitate. Instead he followed Elaine to the car. The old girl had grit. How many people could take that kind of news and not fall apart? Elaine turned to wave before getting into the Cherokee, but Gert had already shut the door.

“I'm glad that's over. I'm sorry for Gert—there's no win-win to any of this. Do you mind driving? I need to check something.” Dan handed the keys to Elaine.

He needed to make a quick call to Santa Fe to reiterate that the diamonds were paid for by check—one made out to Mrs. Gertrude Kennedy for eighty-five thousand, and one for fifteen to Ortega's. And he needed to know dates. All three times were the same—and all three occurred in August. One on the eighth, the next on the fifteenth and the last just four days before the break-in. Bingo. Checks leave a trail. And yes, the store had made copies. UL&C would require them for their records.

Wow. That close to Bean Day…did someone have advance knowledge—get as much as they could from the necklace before they would declare it stolen? And recoup the entire five-hundred thousand? Eight-hundred thousand total wasn't a bad haul. For the first time in a long time, Dan felt he was getting closer to the truth, and he wished it didn't point a finger at those who stood to gain the most.

Chapter Sixteen

“Hello.”

“Stephanie, Dan Mahoney. I need your help. Can you get into the bank this afternoon?” A quick explanation—he needed to prove that Gert Kennedy wasn't behind selling diamonds out of the necklace and then trying to claim the loss of the entire item. He had to back up and give a quick overview of what he'd found out at Ortega's but after some exclamations of shock, Stephanie said it wouldn't be a problem. She was just going out the door. She'd been called in by bank management to box up Mr. Woods' belongings. Maybe he could meet her there? She could get everything for him—copies of Gert's accounts—monthly reports going back to June. Not a problem. She would have access to whatever the bank would have sent out in the mail.

Stephanie met them at the door and explained to the guard what they wanted. She made copies of Dan's driver's license and business card, then Elaine's drivers license and university ID. The three of them waited while the guard cleared them with his boss…whoever that was. Finally they followed Stephanie back to Lawrence Woods' office.

“I'm sorry, but they can't be too careful.” Stephanie walked ahead and opened the door.

“Not a problem. I expected as much.” Dan looked around. This was not the bare-bones room he'd waited in a week ago. The floor was littered with bubble wrap, stacks of newspapers, packing cartons, cardboard boxes yet to be set up and rolls of tape—masking, cellophane, and scotch tape in dispensers. She certainly had her bases covered. And she'd need every bit of packing material if she boxed up everything he was looking at.

Desk top, chairs, benches, bookcases—there wasn't an uncluttered surface in the room let alone a place to sit. Knick knacks—plaques proclaiming Wagon Mound Bank employees winners of good citizens' awards, baseball trophies, basketball championship two-handled cups on wooden stands with twenty or so names engraved, framed watercolors, a couple of oils and pictures, some framed, some not—but all telling a piece of Wagon Mound history.

“Where did all this come from?”

“Storage. Mr. Woods put everything in storage when he came. We hardly recognized the place—bare walls, empty showcases. He was Spartan and expected the bank to reflect his taste. There was quite a row over it. This is our town.” Stephanie's hand swept in a circle. “Its citizens needed a place to show off what they are all about. Like this stack here. Pictures of Bean Day celebrations dating back to the 1950s. We don't have a library or a city hall or anywhere that this memorabilia can be on display. It made sense to use the bank. But not to Mr. Woods. God rest his soul.”

“Do you mind if I look through these?” Elaine pointed at the Bean Day pictures.

“No, of course not. It's a wonderful step back in time. There's so much history in this area. We'll just be out here at my desk.” Stephanie picked up several folders and went back down the hall. Dan looked at a few pictures, then left the stack with Elaine. Seemed a shame the town had been deprived of viewing their heritage. He had a feeling things would be different from now on.

“Oh this is so terrible.” Stephanie sat behind her desk and leaned forward as Dan sat down. Then in her best stage whisper, “It's exactly what you thought. Everything was set up to double-dip. But the money didn't go into Ms. Kennedy's account.” She paused and looked around her then leaned even closer. “Eighty-five thousand was deposited into Ms.
Penelope
Kennedy's account. Copies of the checks show them signed by Gertrude Kennedy but I'm certain those signatures are fake.” She sat back and folded her arms. “And each time, on the exact same day, ten thousand dollars went into Mr. Woods' account, a transfer made by Penny Kennedy. Must have earned himself a little bonus.”

To say Stephanie looked smug wouldn't quite capture it. Dan thought she'd be fighting the idea of panty hose for some time to come—even if the perpetrator was dead. There had really been no love lost.

“Let's take a look.”

“I made these copies for you. This is Penny Kennedy's account. All three times the checks went into her account. Each check to Gertrude Kennedy was signed over to her daughter—more forged signatures, no doubt. But this is the odd thing, the money was transferred out all three times within hours.”

“Any idea where it went?”

“Caymans.”

“Islands?”

“One and the same.”

“Penny Kennedy's name was on the transfer?”

“Yes—along with our very own bank president's name.”

“Lawrence Woods took the necklace to Santa Fe for the stones to be extracted and sold, then he helped Penny Kennedy transfer money to the Caymans, and made an easy ten grand for his trouble.”

Stephanie nodded and sat back arms folded across her chest. “And poor Mrs. Kennedy never had a clue. Is it any wonder that this bank was under investigation?”

“Wow.” It was tough for Dan to get his mind around a plan so devious—could Penny have been planning on a life that didn't include Mom? He found that hard to believe. A spinster living with her elderly mother and a Chihuahua…not the profile of a criminal. Was Lawrence Woods the mastermind? Sell the diamonds but claim a loss for the entire necklace after the break-in? Or because Dan didn't want to believe Penny could do something so ugly to her own mother, he was refusing to see the truth?

“Stephanie, do you have a copy of Penny Kennedy's monthly statement for August?”

“I know what you're thinking and you're right—the deposits don't show up. They're only recorded on electronic bank totals as deposits for each of those days. Obviously for Ortega's benefit. The jewelry store would have needed signed, deposited checks for their bookkeeping.”

Dan sat back. An interesting paper trail, to put it mildly. Certainly seemed to get Gert off the hook.

“Am I interrupting anything?” Elaine, holding two framed photos, stood behind Dan. “I think this is interesting.” She placed the photos in front of him. “Do you recognize anyone?”

Dan pulled the first photo closer. It was a picture from a newspaper of about twenty bikers lined up under a banner that read, “Bean Day Festival, Sept. 14, 1980.” There were an assortment of bikes, mostly Harleys with a couple Triumphs thrown in. The group looked young; several riders had passengers. Those were sure the pre-helmet days—a couple bandanas but nothing more substantial, Dan noticed.

“Do you see him?” Elaine was leaning over his shoulder. “There. Who does that look like?”

Even Stephanie came around the desk to look. “That's Sheriff Howard.” Her index finger landed on a bike third from the left.

“A much younger sheriff but you're right. I'm not sure I know what's so unusual about the sheriff doing a little riding.” Dan wasn't following.

“Wait. That's not the interesting part. Take a look at this.” Elaine pulled the bottom framed photo out and placed it on top. “Who's that?”

This time he recognized the person and understood Elaine's excitement. Under a banner that read “Wagon Mound's Biker Babes”—right in the center was Penny Kennedy. Astride a Harley, leathers, a bandana holding a head full of curls in check, young, slim—even a grainy photo couldn't hide sheer youth. She must have been in her early twenties. And the man sitting on the bike behind her with both arms around her, chin touching the top of her head? Sheriff Howard.

“Did you ever hear that these two were chummy?” Dan turned to Stephanie.

“I was only twelve at the time. I have no idea. Sheriff Howard has been married all the time I've known him. Of course, until he lost his wife a year or so back. He was actually born and raised in Las Vegas, New Mexico. He's not exactly a local.”

Dan guessed the term “local” was reserved for those being born within the city limits—didn't seem to extend out into the county and certainly not to a neighboring town. There were rules and then there were rules. Out here they seemed pretty cut and dried.

Dan sat looking at Penny on a bike. Was she a rider? Or was this picture just posed for the photographer? And if she was a rider, what were the chances she could have pushed a piece of paper under his door and taken off on a Ducati?
It's not what you think.
Was he just trying to read something in or did the line sound more like what a woman would say? Penny certainly had a reason for wanting him out of the way.

And the sheriff. Now there was a question mark. A few hundred thousand would buy a pretty nice boat and retirement home…keep milking the necklace and replacing the stones with fakes…but he had no proof that the once-happy couple were even back together. The photos in front of him were over thirty years old. And then the thought he didn't want to dwell on—was Lawrence Woods' death a result of getting involved with the necklace? Or the tunnel? Because it just didn't feel like the two were connected.

He was bound to report what he knew—that the necklace had been looted to the tune of three hundred thousand dollars. This wasn't the usual case for UL&C. Messy to say the least with criminal charges looming unless Lawrence acted on his own without Penny's knowledge. But there he went again trying to excuse Penny. Of course. Penny's name could have been forged on a check and a transfer to open an off-shore account. But that wouldn't explain how or where the necklace was found. Who was telling the truth there? Dan only had second-hand information shared by a dead woman with her mother that Penny Kennedy just about drove her nuts asking to take the necklace out of safe-keeping because her mother was senile. And there were no notes or signatures in the log books to even see if the dates that the necklace showed up at Ortega's were the same as when Amber was supposedly being pestered. The hard facts were Lawrence Woods and Amber Medger were dead. Both murdered. And even if his knowledge was inconclusive, Dan needed to let someone know.