This Old Homicide (22 page)

“The guy was a little paranoid,” Christa said apologetically. “Not that I could blame him. The necklace was a really beautiful antique and worth so much more than he was willing to sell it for. I recommended that he take it into San Francisco, where he could get a heck of a lot more money for it than he could up here.”

“Do you remember how long ago that was?” I asked.

“Oh gosh.” She stared at the ceiling, trying to think. “Had to have been at least two years ago.”

Why had Jesse been so willing to sell the necklace so cheaply? Why wouldn’t he have made the trip into the city to see what price he could get from a bigger buyer?

Christa was so helpful that I took a few minutes to browse around her shop and found an unusual quilted tea cozy for only seven dollars that I knew Emily would love.

Since I was down the coast anyway—and since I was basically nosy—I drove a few more miles west until I reached the town of Blue Point where Althea lived. I was curious to see the clothing shop she’d told us about. Oh, hell, I wanted to find out if there even was a shop. Was she telling the truth or had she made up the whole story?

I found the bookstore I’d visited before, the one I’d mentioned to Althea, and sure enough, three doors down was Althea’s Attic, a vintage clothing shop. I felt a little embarrassed to think I’d questioned the woman’s honesty. I mean, any of us could’ve driven down to see the shop for ourselves. But if Jesse’s death had taught me anything, it was to verify everything before assuming or jumping to conclusions.

So now what? I parked the truck directly across the street, just as Althea walked out of the shop. Without thinking I ducked to hide my face—good grief!—so she wouldn’t see me as she strolled down the sidewalk. It was lunchtime, so I assumed she would be gone a good ten or fifteen minutes at least.

I felt a little silly for avoiding her, but I hadn’t prepared myself to face her today. I jumped out of the truck and jogged across the street to the shop. A younger woman was standing at the counter as I walked inside. It was the kind of place that made guys shudder. In other words, completely feminine and wonderful. Soft music played in the background, and the air smelled like flowers. The antique dress forms that displayed some of the clothes were topped with fascinator-type hats that I wished I could get away with wearing. So much prettier than a hard hat, even a pink one.

“Hello. Can I help you find anything?” she said.

“I’m just looking right now. Is this Althea Tannis’s shop?”

“Yes. Do you know her? She just stepped out for half an hour or so, but she’ll be back soon enough if you’d like to wait for her.”

“That’s okay. I just met her recently and we talked about the shop and it sounded so intriguing. I was in the area and thought I would stop by.”

“Well, do take a look around, and if you have any questions, please ask me.”

I started riffling through one of the racks of vintage silk blouses. “It must be fun to work in a store like this, with so many beautiful things.”

“Oh, I love working here,” she gushed. “Althea saved my life by hiring me.”

“That’s lovely to hear.”

“It’s true. I couldn’t ask for a more wonderful, supportive boss.” She walked over to another rack and pulled out a rich copper-colored raw silk jacket. “This would look gorgeous on you with your hair and skin tone,” she said, holding it up for me to view.

“Oh,” I said, almost gasping for breath. The jacket was amazing and I experienced an immediate visceral need to have it. “It’s… stunning. Oh my God, I think I have to buy it right now.”

She laughed. “Try it on first. And we have some earrings up at the counter that will look fabulous with it.”

“You’re killing me.” I was a sucker for fun earrings, and they had a nice collection.

“I’ll bring them to you in the dressing room. And since you’re a friend of Althea’s, I’ll give you a fifteen percent discount off your first purchase.”

Wow, I was feeling guiltier by the second for ever doubting Althea’s veracity.

Ten minutes later, I walked out of the store with my new favorite jacket and a great pair of earrings tucked inside an adorable bag with lots of pretty pink tissue paper.

On the drive home, I managed to rein in my adoration for Althea. Just because she had a beautiful shop—where I would be spending my money from now on—didn’t mean she wasn’t a cold-blooded killer and potential necklace thief.

But she hadn’t lied about her shop or where she lived. Her employee loved her, and that counted for a lot. It seemed that Althea’s only crime, so far, was that she’d allowed Jesse to keep their relationship under wraps so we’d never had a chance to meet her until after he was gone. He had evidently found her to be a delightful companion, and I was beginning to share his opinion.

I stopped at Emily’s Tea Shop and surprised her with the tea cozy. After she thanked me profusely and I refused her offer to pay for it, I asked if she’d like to go with me to Jane’s later on. I explained a little bit about her mix-up with Andrew Braxton the day before.

“I’m worried about her,” I said. “I hope it didn’t dampen her spirit too much.”

“Let’s make sure,” Emily said. “Sarah can close up for me, so I’ll be ready to go at four.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

*   *   *

When we arrived at Hennessey House, Jane was in the living room, serving wine and cheese to her guests, who were scattered throughout the first floor and grounds, chatting and sipping wine and getting to know one another. People were in the living room, the library, outside on the deck, and in various nooks and crannies around the garden. One woman had snuck into the kitchen and was chatting up Jane’s cook, attempting to steal one of the recipes Jane had perfected. I wished her good luck.

“Here she is,” Emily said.

Jane stopped in the doorway. “Hey, you two. To what do I owe this happy visit?”

“We’re here to check up on you,” I whispered.

She squeezed my arm affectionately. “I’m fine. Just some first-week cracks in the system that I’m quickly patching up so they never happen again.”

“Did you talk to Sandra about the botched reservation?”

“Yes.” Jane fiddled with a doily on the sofa before walking us to a more private spot across the room. “She spoke to the emergency room doctor who told her Andrew had told them about his vacation and then slipped into a coma. The doctor was the one who called us.”

“How weird. Was the doctor a man or a woman?”

“The connection wasn’t good, but she says it sounded like a man.”

That answer wasn’t as helpful as I’d hoped it would be. Anyone could disguise their voice if they had to.

“I think you need a glass of bubbly,” Emily murmured, slipping her arm through Jane’s. “Can we entice you to join us?”

“Jane, there you are.” Stephen Darby was about to take hold of her arm when he realized she wasn’t alone.

“Oh. Hello, Shannon,” he said, then noticed Emily and extended his hand. “Hello. You look familiar but I’m afraid I don’t remember your name. I’m Stephen Darby.”

“Emily Rose,” she said, shaking his hand. “A friend of Jane’s.”

“Any friend of Jane’s is a friend of mine.”

I glanced at Jane, who was doing her best not to make eye contact with me.

“Can I pour you a glass of wine?” Stephen asked Emily.

“No, thanks. I’ll wait.”

“Stephen,” Jane said, attempting to take charge. “Why don’t you go help yourself to some wine?”

“I was waiting for you.”

“I’ll be along in a minute,” she said, gesturing toward the great room. “You go on ahead.”

“All right. Don’t be long.”

Making himself right at home, I thought, and wondered why he struck me as being so wrong. Maybe it was the fact that he came across as both pretentious and presumptuous at the same time. He walked away and I finally caught Jane’s gaze. “He’s awfully friendly, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” she hissed, “and I don’t know what to do about him. I went out with him twice and now he’s living here and treating me like I’m his girlfriend.”

“That’s got to stop,” Emily whispered.

Just then another tall, good-looking man walked through the front door. He smiled brightly and it took me a moment to realize it was Andrew Braxton. He glanced around, found Jane, and approached. “Hello. Remember me?”

“Of course I do,” she said, smiling as she shook his hand. “How are you, Mr. Braxton?”

“Doing much better, and please call me Andrew.”

“Andrew. And you must call me Jane. These are my friends Shannon Hammer and Emily Rose. Andrew Braxton.”

After we’d all greeted one another, Andrew turned to Jane and spoke in a low voice. “I thought I’d take a chance and see if you were free later. I’d love to take you to dinner to thank you for being so accommodating.”

“I’m still so sorry for the mix-up.”

“I thought you showed true grace under fire,” he said. He had a really attractive smile and I liked his approach, but I still wondered why he was so intent on staying at Hennessey House and why he was showing Jane so much attention. Not that she didn’t deserve it, but under the circumstances, I felt rightfully nervous on her behalf.

Jane didn’t look nervous at all. She seemed happy and flirtatious and interested in Andrew Braxton.

Emily and I stepped away to give them a moment alone. I wasn’t sure why, because now I couldn’t eavesdrop on their conversation. What was I thinking? My only excuse was that I knew Jane would tell me everything he said later.

Men had been taking notice of Jane since middle school. But why all of a sudden, right after Jesse’s death and the discovery of the necklace, were these particular men trying to get cozy with her? My every instinct was on high alert.

Stephen walked into the room just then, carrying two glasses of wine. “Here you go, my dear. Oh, hello.”

Jane turned. “Stephen. Have you met Andrew Braxton? Andrew, this is Stephen Darby.”

The two men shook hands, clearly recognizing that they were rivals.

“We should go,” Emily murmured.

“And miss this show?” I protested. “You can’t be serious.”

She elbowed me. “Jane’s doing just fine. Besides, we’ll get all the good dish later.”

I’d just had the same thought, but now I wasn’t so sure we should leave her. But there was a difference between being worried and being paranoid. It wasn’t as if Jane was alone in the house with those guys. There were plenty of other guests around.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “The way those two men are bristling around her, it could get ugly.”

We giggled all the way out to the sidewalk.

*   *   *

That night I climbed into bed with Winifred Rawley’s diary to learn her story and find out if we could do anything further to calm the restless spirit residing in Emily’s new house.

As a single debutante, Winifred had lived a life of whirlwind parties and carriage rides and visits to the beach, where everyone showed off their latest swim fashions, which surely covered them from head to toe. It was an entertaining account, but I felt like a voyeur as I read her most intimate thoughts.

She had fallen in love with a man her father didn’t approve of, and he was forcing her to marry another man, Ronald Rawley, whose father was one of the pillars of Northern California society. It was a good business decision, and Winifred was expected to sacrifice herself for the family fortunes.

Winifred defied her father’s wishes and snuck out of the house one night to meet her handsome young lover, an Italian immigrant who’d moved to Lighthouse Cove the year before to join his brother. The two had opened a small shop that provided parts and services for the horseless carriages and motor buggies that were sweeping the haut monde in the year 1906.

After poring over several pages filled with the couple’s amorous and highly secretive exploits, I turned the page and read her young man’s name. Giuseppe Peratti.

Peratti?
Gus’s great-grandfather?

“No wonder she freaked out over Gus,” I murmured. His family had lived in Lighthouse Cove for over a century.

Winifred snuck back home late that night and was greeted by her irate father, who whipped her and sent her to her bedroom with a guard stationed at the door. The following week, she was married to Ronald Rawley. It wasn’t the happiest marriage, especially after she gave birth exactly nine months later to a baby boy with an olive complexion and dark hair. Her blond husband wasn’t amused, nor was her father. She and the baby were shunned by her entire family, although the child was given the name Rawley in order to quell rumors that he was a bastard.

Winifred begged for a divorce, but her husband refused and, in fact, she later gave birth to three more babies, who were her husband’s. They were sickly, though, and none of them survived childhood.

Her son with Giuseppe, on the other hand, survived and thrived. She had named him Joseph, the English version of Giuseppe. And as Joseph Rawley, the young boy stood to inherit everything.

I fell asleep reading and dreamed of poor Winifred and her darling dark-haired baby boy.

*   *   *

Late Wednesday morning Jane revealed to Lizzie that Stephen Darby had asked her out twice more and Andrew had already called her three times that morning. Lizzie was thrilled that Jane had two suitors to choose from and knew she was sure to find true romance any minute now, but the rest of us were still wondering about the motives of both men. Why were they being so pushy? Yes, Jane was smart and beautiful, as I’d mentioned countless times, but she was also kindhearted and in love with romance. These two men weren’t worth Jane’s love. They seemed to be growing more and more interested in competing with each other than simply being with Jane.

After dealing with Cuckoo Clemens and spending the night reading Winifred’s diary, I had no patience for arrogant men.

Having observed Jane with the two men, I thought of a more sinister possibility. Why had Stephen been so adamant about getting a tour of Jesse’s house? Had Ned mentioned to his son that Jesse had found the necklace? Were Ned and Bob in cahoots with Stephen doing the heavy lifting?

Of course, after talking to Bob and hearing what Lizzie had found out from Ned, I was pretty sure neither man even knew about the necklace. How could Jesse have kept it secret from them? I suppose he could’ve simply tucked it into his fanny pack and never shown it to them. But they had camped out for three days together. A sparkling jeweled necklace seemed like something that would be discovered in such close quarters for three days.