This Old Homicide (17 page)

Marigold gave Jane a smile of encouragement. “Are you having fun, at least?”

Jane groaned. “Oh, God, he tries so hard. He’s become a chef and he loves to eat, so we’ve gone to two fabulous places.”

“Food is good,” Lizzie said firmly. “A man who likes food is a… a good man.”

“I thought he was handsome,” Emily said.

Jane buried her face in her hands and laughed at our obvious attempts to make Stephen sound interesting.

I patted her back. “So he doesn’t float your boat. Just enjoy yourself for now and someday you’ll meet someone who knocks your socks off.” And, I added silently, someone I didn’t maybe, sort of, almost suspect of murder. Possibly.

“Someday,” she echoed quietly.

“Nothing wrong with someday,” Emily said.

“True.” Jane waved her hands to put an end to the topic. “Anyway, yes, Stephen is
nice
, but oh, so boring, poor guy. So, Marigold, how are you these days?”

“Things are pretty quiet in my life,” Marigold said, “unless you count Goofus, Aunt Daisy’s new puppy.”

She passed her phone around and we oohed and aahed at her adorable pictures of little Goofus, a tiny golden retriever whose paws were bigger than his head. The dog was going to be gigantic one of these days.

I glanced up and saw Jane looking right at me, her forehead furrowed. Something was up with her. “What is it?”

“I want to tell them.”

“So do I.” We hadn’t discussed it, but it was the right thing to do. These women were our best friends. In this little group, we shared everything.

“Tell us what?” Emily asked.

Jane sat up a little straighter and cleared her throat. “Shannon found a priceless antique necklace in Uncle Jesse’s basement. It’s made of gold and encrusted with diamonds and rubies and all sorts of other jewels.”

“Good heavens,” Marigold said.

“We believe he found it a few years ago,” Jane continued, “while scuba diving around the
Glorious Maiden
shipwreck.”

“We believe he showed it to a few people at first,” I said. “He was probably trying to get an estimate of the cost or maybe trying to sell it, but he kept it hidden after that.”

Jane glanced around. “We think it might’ve been the reason he was killed.”

I gasped. “Jane, no!”

“Oops.” Jane pressed her fingers to her lips.

Lizzie pounced. “Why ‘oops’? What’s the story? Come on, spill it.”

Jane winced, and shot a glance at me. “He didn’t say we couldn’t mention it was murder. Just, you know, the means by which it was done.”

I gave her a withering look, although, technically, she was right. We had only promised Eric we wouldn’t mention the fact that the investigators hadn’t found a prescription for sleeping pills inside Jesse’s house. Still, if he found out about this conversation, I had no doubt that Jane would escape unharmed while I would be thrown into that jail cell he’d threatened us with.

“Fine,” I said. “We think Jesse was murdered, but we’re not allowed to say how it might’ve been done. So I don’t want to hear this conversation repeated outside this room.”

Jane nodded, on board with me here. “Or he’ll kill us.”

“He’ll kill
me
,” I muttered, then glared at everyone seated around the table. “So all of you must promise not to say a word.”

I must’ve scared them with my intensity, because they all swore not to breathe a word of it to anyone. I gave them all a tight smile, took a sip of wine, and confessed, “And the necklace presents another problem. We weren’t going to tell you about it, because we were afraid that if word got out, Jane’s life would be in danger.”

“In danger?” Lizzie cried. “But why?”

“Because if someone was willing to kill Jesse to get it, they might think nothing of hurting Jane, too.”

A couple of tense seconds of silence passed before we seemed to take a collective deep breath.

“Jane,” Emily said, “you must give it to the police.”

“I will,” she said. “For now, it’s in a safe place.”

“Not on your premises, I hope.”

“No.” She stared at each one of us in turn. “Now, look, you’re all sworn to secrecy until after my grand opening.”

“Jane,” I said. “That’s—”

She held up her hand to silence me. “I know it’s selfish and silly of me, but I want my grand opening to be the focus of everyone’s attention for the next few days. Not the necklace.”

“I’m going to tell Eric,” I warned, knowing the penalty for holding out on the chief of police. “He’ll keep it quiet.”

Lizzie nodded. “And he can help protect Jane.”

And not imprison me, I thought. Besides, now that the girls knew, it was only a matter of time before the secret leaked out. It wouldn’t look good if Eric found out through another source.

“Why did you want to wait to tell everyone until after your opening?” Marigold asked.

Jane frowned. “Because if people start talking about the necklace, it’ll consume every conversation. And then they’ll inevitably talk about Jesse, too, and rumors will fly and I just don’t want my guests to show up and be confronted with gossip about a possible murder and burglary and… well, you know.”

Emily reached over and squeezed Jane’s arm. “You don’t want word to get out that murder has once again tainted our little town.”

I sighed, knowing that that was exactly the way the gossip would go.

“So, if it’s possible,” Jane pleaded, “can we please keep the news among the five of us for now?”

We all looked at Lizzie. She was the only one who was married, so of course she would tell Hal.

“I can keep a secret,” she insisted.

“If you want to tell Hal, go ahead,” Jane said, then gave me a worried look. “There’s no way we can contain it.”

“Your party is in two days,” I said. “We can all keep a secret for two days, can’t we?” I glanced around the table. “It’s important.”

“I promise we can,” Marigold asserted. “It’s not just Jane’s grand opening we’re concerned about, but her safety. For that, we can all keep our lips zipped. Yes?”

Emily extended her arm. “Promise.”

I did the same and grabbed her hand. “Promise.”

The others joined in. Once we were all holding hands, we raised our arms in the air and shouted, “Promise!”

“That was stirring,” Emily said, chuckling, as she reached for the wine bottle.

Jane smiled. “Just like cheerleader camp.”

“Minus the pompoms,” Lizzie said.

We laughed and the serious vibe was broken for the moment. Emily poured another round of wine, which helped enormously. Lizzie wanted to hear more about the necklace, so we described it to her. I got a few laughs and shudders when I told them how I’d found the darn thing in the darkest, least accessible place in Jesse’s house.

Marigold sighed. “The necklace sounds fantastic, but I hate to think your uncle was killed because of it.”

“I hate it, too,” Jane said.

“You really think someone killed him?” Lizzie asked. “It wasn’t a heart attack?”

Since they knew the basics, Jane shared the news about the autopsy report. “There’s no way he took a bunch of pills on his own,” Jane said. “We think someone drugged him.”

I sighed but didn’t point out that she had just revealed the one piece of information we’d agreed to hold back. Wine had a way of making Jane—and everyone else in the world—indiscreet, so I could only hope that our friends would be satisfied talking about this with each other and not with anyone outside of our little group.

Oh, who was I kidding? I needed to make it clear all over again just exactly what the stakes were.

“Excuse me,” I said, lightly tapping my spoon against my wineglass. “But that little piece of information about the pills is exactly what you cannot repeat outside of this room.”

“Oh no,” Jane said, slapping her forehead. “Shannon’s right. Cone of silence, okay? Or Eric will really be mad.”

“Yeah, really mad,” I repeated. “So mum’s the word.”

“Poor Shannon,” Marigold said, rubbing my shoulder. “I know you’re worried, but you can trust us to be discreet.”

I smiled at her. “Thanks, Marigold.” She could read people’s emotions better than any psychic in the world.

“But who would do such a thing to Jesse?” Emily wondered, bringing us back to the subject at hand.

“That’s the fifty-thousand-dollar question,” Jane said. “Who did it?”

“And
why
?”
Lizzie added.

I cleared my throat. “I made a list.”

They all gaped at me and Emily laughed. “That’s our girl.”

*   *   *

Early Friday morning, I was surprised when Mac knocked on my door and invited me to walk with him down to the Cozy Cove for breakfast. The sky was clear but the air was cold and crisp as we made our way toward the town square. We chatted about his new house and our upcoming meeting with the Planning Commission. I’d made a list of all the additional changes we’d talked about and had gone over the list with my dad. He was even more familiar with the personalities involved and would know what changes they would—and would not—allow us to make to the lighthouse mansion, our town’s beloved landmark.

Mac insisted that it wouldn’t bother him if they turned down one thing or another. As he’d told me the other day when we drove out to see the place, he didn’t plan to change much of the outside of the building. He just wanted a comfortable home on the inside. Free of rats, of course.

“I’m with you there,” I said, shivering a little at the memory of that tiny, squealing rodent skittering across the wood-plank floor. Once we were seated and our coffee was poured, I added, “We’ll get everything approved, I guarantee it.”

“I’m not worried,” he said. “Between you, with your awe-inspiring ability to secure all those permits and read those blueprints, and me along to dazzle them with my fancy footwork, they’ll be putty in our hands.”

I smiled broadly, held up my coffee mug, and we toasted our two-pronged plan of attack. The Commission members wouldn’t know what hit them.

*   *   *

Saturday was Jane’s gala grand opening and everyone in Lighthouse Cove was invited to the party. Tonight would be the first time Jane welcomed guests to the Hennessey House Bed-and-Breakfast. Besides the guests who would be checking in for the first time, the entire town would be stopping by to wish Jane well. Those who hadn’t yet gotten a look inside the town’s newest, most elegant establishment were eager to see it.

It had taken me and Jane and my crew almost three years to renovate her grandmother’s disheveled old mansion and turn it into a world-class small hotel. The place had been standing there for over one hundred and fifty years, and in that time, it had been a family home, a brothel, a boardinghouse, a private residence, and finally an elegant bed-and-breakfast.

I stood on the sidewalk and gazed with pride at the beautifully restored Queen Anne with its wide wraparound porch, wonderful three-story tower, and six chimneys. Hennessey House featured fourteen uniquely decorated guest suites, many with balconies and fireplaces. The entire house was furnished with beautiful Victorian-era pieces that were not only authentic but also comfortable and elegant.

The gardens had been completely renovated months ago and now they were gorgeous and green, a lush paradise with flowering plants everywhere. Charming rustic pathways invited strolling guests to discover a small bench or sitting area behind a tree or next to the koi pond, where they might read a book or drink their morning coffee or enjoy a glass of wine at dusk.

Jane had planned the party as an open house from three in the afternoon until eight o’clock that night, so people would be coming and going and the kitchen staff had been told to keep the appetizers hot and plentiful.

Jane’s small, permanent kitchen staff had been practicing for weeks, learning Jane’s recipes and creating new ones of their own. Jane’s friends had been used as guinea pigs, happily, so we knew they would do a great job. Tonight they had help from some of Emily’s tea shop staff, who were used to catering larger affairs.

An open bar was set up in the living room area off the lobby foyer, and another one was outside on the deck overlooking the gardens. It was a beautiful afternoon, cold but clear, and space heaters were stationed at each seating area.

Most important, my friends and I had our marching orders. Jane had invited everyone on my suspect list to the party, so we planned to do whatever it took to corner each of them and pump them for information—in the friendliest, most polite and discreet way possible, of course.

I arrived early and helped Jane with a few of the last-minute details, such as arranging stacks of cocktail napkins on the end tables and testing the baby quiches for flavor. “Yep, they’re perfect,” I said with my mouth full.

“Thanks so much,” Jane said wryly. “I have to go to the kitchen for a minute, and guests are starting to arrive. Please behave yourself.”

“I’ll be delightful, as always.”

She walked away shaking her head, and I proceeded to go to the bar, where Ian, one of Emily’s staff waiters, was serving drinks.

“Hey, Shannon, what can I get you?”

“I’ll have a glass of the cabernet.”

“Hello there, Shannon,” a woman said.

I turned and found Althea Tannis standing behind me.

“Althea, hello.” We shook hands. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, dear,” she said wistfully. “You know, taking it one day at a time.”

“Yes, I know what you mean.”

“It’s still such a shock,” she said, obviously referring to Jesse’s death. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for anyone.”

“No, it hasn’t.”

Ian took her order for a vodka gimlet and I tried to check my guilt once again. The woman had known Jesse, so of course she had to be on my suspect list. It was nothing personal. No reason to feel guilty, but there it was.

Ian handed her the cocktail and she set the glass on the bar before turning to me.

“Don’t you look pretty in green?” she said. “Your eyes just sparkle next to that color.”

“Oh, thank you.” The forest green sleeveless cocktail dress with the low-draped back was one of my favorites. “I like your dress, too.”

She glanced down at the strawberry polka-dotted silk dress she wore with short red heels. “Isn’t it fun? It’s from my shop. I sell lots of new things, too, besides vintage clothing and accessories. You should come by sometime.”