It Started With A House: Lizzie. Book 1 (The Westport Mysteries) (11 page)

Wow, my
boyfriend was checking out another woman on my birthday. Classy. “Like what you
saw, Scott?” I asked. I know I should have ignored it but I couldn’t help
myself.

“Whatever are
you talking about?”

“I saw you
check her out,” I said.

“You’re being
ridiculous. I would not check out a waitress,” he scoffed.

“Really? It
certainly looked like you checked her out. You even took your time studying her
legs,” I snarled.

“Elizabeth, is
that jealousy? You know how I feel about that.”

“Scot, you’ve
spent more time looking at her legs than you have at me all evening. You
haven’t even commented on how I look and I put a lot of effort in for you
tonight,” I sulked. I mean, I didn’t have much high ground to stand on here as
I’d been perving on Riley all week, but at least I didn’t do it in front of
Scott.

“Yes, I’m
sorry. Your hair does look lovely, not its usual unruly mess,” he stated.
 
With this he reached into his pocket and
pulled out a small square box all wrapped up in pretty pink paper with a silver
bow.

“Happy
birthday, Elizabeth,” he smiled, handing me the box.

Oh. My. God! Is
that what I think it is? What am I going to do? Okay, I have to calm myself
down and do the only thing I can do—sit here and stare and hope it goes
away.

“Well, are you
going to take it?” Scott asked with a little laugh to cover his embarrassment. The
people at the table next to us were watching, obviously intrigued with what was
in the box and expecting to hear a proposal.

“Um…thank you?”
I said as I reached to accept the gift. I looked up and saw a look of relief
cross Scott’s face. With shaking hands, I gently undid the bow. I was smiling
like a demented idiot. A nervous giggle escaped my throat. A large dose of
panic lurked beneath, but I bravely continued on my mission. Pulling back the
wrapping, I saw a tiny black box. Dread sat heavily in my stomach. Did I really
want to open this?

The lady at the
table next to us was looking excited, her hands tucked under her chin and a
huge grin on her face. Pulling all my courage together, I opened the box. A
giggle of relief escaped from my lips and I quickly covered it with my hand. Inside
were the sweetest diamond earrings I had ever seen.

“Oh, these are
really lovely. Thank you.” My voice was shaking from a combination of relief
and adrenalin
 
pumping through my
system.

“You look
relieved. What did you think was in there?” Scott asked curiously.

“It doesn’t
matter, these are perfect.” The lady at the next table looked away, obviously
disappointed.

“Please don’t
lie to me, Elizabeth. Something was clearly bothering you before you opened the
box,” Scott asked, now sounding a bit annoyed.

“I thought it
might have been a ring,” I replied, embarrassment now clearly burning on my
cheeks. Damn my mother for putting stupid ideas into my head.

“A ring? Like
an engagement ring?” Scott asked, incredulously. He looked like it was the most
ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

“Well, it’s a
small black jewelry box and we have been together for quite a long time now. Most
girls would jump to that conclusion, you know,” I said a bit indignantly.

Scott started
to laugh. I huffed as I watched him sit back in his chair and laughed the
hardest I’d seen him laugh in a very long time.

“Well, that is
ridiculous.” Tears were starting to pool in his eyes.

Humph.

“Why are you
laughing?” I asked. “Why is it ridiculous?”

“Oh,
Elizabeth,” Scott said, running his finger under his lashes to flick away the
tears. “As if I would marry you.”

“What’s that
supposed to mean?” I asked, his words stinging. I know I didn’t want a ring to
be in the box, but it doesn’t mean I want to hear I’m not marriage material.

Realizing his
blunder, Scott sobered up very quickly. “It’s your birthday, Elizabeth, let’s
not ruin it,” he said placing his hand over mine.

Too late for that
, I thought.

When
was this house ever going to be quiet in the morning?

I really felt
like a sleep in, but with all the banging and clattering
 
going on upstairs, my chances were nil.
My alarm hadn’t even gone off yet! What the hell had Riley up so early? My head
was pounding and my stomach churned as I made my way to the bathroom to do the
usual morning routine. I felt like I had a hangover.

Oh, that’s
right, I probably do. I remember getting home around eleven last night, and
being uptight and irritable. Finding the wine left over from last Friday night,
I’d gone into the lounge room and listened to Lionel Ritchie on my iPod singing
about how he was
stuck on you
and
cried for hours. I really wanted someone to be stuck on me and yet, there I was
on my birthday, alone and drinking straight from the bottle. As I’m not much of
a drinker, it didn’t take long until I was at the bottom of the pit of
self-pity. God, I really needed to get a grip. It’s not like I have a bad life,
you know. Feeling marginally better after my shower, I headed down stairs to
get some coffee, hoping it would cure me.

“I didn’t
expect to see you here this morning. I thought you would have stayed in the
city last night,” smiled Riley. He looked particularly happy about something.

“Change of
plans. Could you pour me a coffee too, please?” I asked, sitting down at the
table and putting my head in my hands. Riley poured me a cup and handed it to
me.

“Did you get to
see
Wicked
?”

“No, Scott gave
me two tickets to see it on Saturday. I might take Molly with me.”

“It looks like
you had a bit of a party when you got home. I found the empty bottles in the
lounge this morning.”

Bottles? There
was more than one? God, no wonder my head hurt.

“I had a bit of
a pity party,” I said half embarrassed.

“Yeah, I
thought something must have happened. Lionel Ritchie was stuck on repeat when I
walked in,” Riley smiled. His smile really did light up the room. It just
couldn’t cure a hangover.

“How come
you’re here so early?” I asked.

“I had a few
things I needed to finish in the attic before the carpet gets laid tomorrow and
seeing how we have the solicitor at ten, I thought I’d get a head start on
them.”

That’s right,
I’d forgotten about the solicitor.

“I think I’m
going back to bed for a while. Would you wake me up in a couple of hours,
please?” Shuffling back upstairs, I fell on the bed and immediately fell back
to sleep.

* * * *

By
the time I’d had a couple more hours sleep and some aspirin, I was almost human
again and ready for another trip into the city. We were in Riley’s truck this
time, which was a bit of a pity as I wasn’t able to touch him every time a gear
needed to be changed. Oh well, probably for the best as I still hadn’t analyzed
what had happened in the kitchen last night.

Riley appeared
to be deep in thought, so our trip was a quiet one. It’s funny how I feel so
comfortable even when we’re not talking. I actually never feel like I have to
prove myself to Riley. Probably because he has no romantic interest in me.

Walking into
Patrick John’s office I had a good look around. It didn’t take long as his
office wasn’t very big. The reception was unpretentious in its decoration with
just a mahogany desk for his secretary and a small two-seater lounge pushed
against one wall for visitors. The beige walls were decorated with the many
certificates and awards Mr. Johns had received over the years. One of these was
a plaque presented to him by the Global Ministry. I knew of this ministry, as I
passed it on my way to my parents. It wasn’t like the church I’d attended
Sunday school at, which was very traditional. The Global Ministry held its
service in what used to be the basketball stadium, and they sang a lot. Loudly.
I knew
 
it had a large, growing
congregation, so large they’d knocked down the stadium and built a big new
building—supposedly big enough to hold all 1200 of its followers. Looking
at the plaque, I was distracted as the door to another office opened and a man
I presumed was Mr. Johns stepped out. He looked about sixty with salt and
pepper-colored hair and glasses perched on his hawk-like nose. His suit was
just a little bit too big for him, but he seemed friendly enough as he
introduced himself and invited us in.

“What can I do
for you lovely folk?” he asked with a smile, closing the door behind us. Sitting
down, Riley quickly filled him in on our mission and asked if he could give us
any information that might be useful to us.

“Of course, I’m
sure you are aware I can’t divulge any personal information about Ms. Miller,
but what I can tell you is her estate was sold and the proceeds given to a
local charity. It was the local cat shelter, if I’m not mistaken. I personally
oversaw the clearing of the house. Any furniture and personal belongings were
also donated, all except her photos. Because of the age of some of them, we
felt it would be beneficial for those to go to the local library for their
archives,” he mused.

“Did Avis ever
mention anyone named Will to you, Mr. Johns?” I asked. I watched as he started
to fidget in his chair.

“Not that I
remember. If you don’t mind me asking, why does this interest you so much?” he
asked.

“We found some
letters and a ring hidden under the floor and wanted to return them to their
original owner,” Riley said.

“I see. Unfortunately,
my connection with Ms. Miller was purely professional and even then our
meetings were brief. What information did the letters contain?” he asked. His
eyes had got brighter and all of a sudden I could visualize him in a courtroom.
Looking around his inner office, I don’t think he got that opportunity very
often though.

“Not much
really. We just felt they were very personal and should be returned to the
writer. Destroying them doesn’t feel right,” I said.

“The writer may
no longer be alive. Maybe you should bring them to me and I’ll take a look at
them. See if I can do some digging for you,” suggested Mr. Johns with a smile.

This sounded
like a very nice offer but I didn’t think we’d be taking it up anytime soon. I
had a weird feeling Mr. Johns was holding out on us.

“Also, I know
legally the ring belongs to you now,” he said turning to me, “but maybe you’d
like to hand it to me to be sold and given to the charity as well. After all,
I’m sure that’s what Ms. Miller would have wanted,” he said, giving me a very
sweet, almost sickly smile.

“Thank you Mr.
Johns, we’ll keep that in mind if we can’t find who it belongs to.” Riley
stood.

Time to go by
the looks of things. And not a moment too soon as I was feeling a quite uneasy.

* * * *

Walking
back out into the street, we decided to grab some lunch and worked our way to a
sandwich shop not far from my old office. This particular shop was a favourite
of mine and was very retro, stuck between a sushi bar and a bookshop. After
ordering my usual turkey and cranberry Panini, Riley and I found a booth and
sat down to wait for our order.

“Next stop the
library,” said Riley. We’d decided we should take a look at Avis’s old photo’s
to see if they held any clues.

“Yes, I’m
actually a bit excited to see the photos. I wonder if any of them were of the house.”
I thought for a moment. “Did you feel Mr. Johns knew more than he was letting
on?” I asked Riley.

“Funny you
should say that, but that’s exactly what I felt.”

“But what? Do you
think he knew who Will was?”

“No idea, but
whatever it was, he wasn’t about to tell us.”

Thinking about
this, I nearly missed Brenda walking in with Scott. They walked straight to the
back of the shop and sat in a booth in the far corner. I saw Riley notice them
as well and he looked over at me, eyebrows arched. Brenda had obviously visited
her cosmetic surgeon recently as her lips were looking awfully swollen but
apart from that she was looking very nice with her designer suit and four inch
heels, towering over Scott. Something about the way they looked at each other
seemed a bit more intimate than a business lunch.

“That’s weird. Scott
told me he had a meeting on the other side of the city today. That’s why we
left the restaurant early last night. He needed his rest to be ready for it,” I
said. The feeling of unease that had been creeping around in my stomach ever
since we’d visited the solicitor was now on its way to a being full-blown
anxiety attack. Then again, it could just be the hangover causing the sick
feeling in my stomach.

“Why don’t you
go over and say hello?” suggested Riley.

I looked at him,
deciding what to do. “Okay, I’ll just be a minute.” I got up and headed over to
their booth.

“Hi, Scott,
Brenda,” I smiled tightly. Both of them jumped so high they physically lifted
off their seats.

“Elizabeth. What
are you doing here?” asked Scott obviously annoyed I had interrupted…whatever I
was interrupting.

“I was visiting
a solicitor here in the city. I told you about it last night, remember? I
thought I’d kill two birds with one stone and go into the office to collect any
files that were ready for me.”

“Oh, yes of
course, but don’t bother with the office, I’ll have everything couriered to you
on Friday,” he said hurriedly.

“I thought you
had a big meeting today on the other side of the city?”

“What?” A look
of confusion crossed his face but he quickly recovered. “Oh yes, that’s right. It
was cancelled,” he said, looking a bit flustered. I noticed the small bead of
sweat sitting on his top lip.

“Is everything
alright?” I asked looking from him to Brenda and back again, my stomach
clenching.

“Yes, of
course, why wouldn’t it be?” he asked, avoiding eye contact altogether.

“You just seem
a bit uptight, that’s all.”

“I’m not
uptight. I just don’t like all the questions,” he snapped. “I haven’t
questioned you as to why you are here have I?”

“Well no, but I
told you last night I would be here.” I could feel my blood pressure rising,
but decided a deep breath would be much more beneficial. “Riley and I are just
getting lunch if you’d like to sit with us,” I suggested.

“Oh no, I don’t
think so. Brenda and I are actually running late for another meeting. We should
probably go, Brenda.” They both stood and almost ran out of the shop, without
waiting for their order.

“What was that
about?” asked Riley when I returned to the table. “I hope they didn’t leave on
account of me being here.”

“No, some unforgotten
meeting they suddenly remembered they were late for,” I shrugged. It was all
very strange. If Scott had been with anybody other than Brenda, I would think
he was having an affair. But Brenda? She was the same age as my mother!

* * * *

I
tried to push all thoughts of them aside as we made our way to the library. I
think it was the hangover making me restless, even after two very strong
coffees. I still couldn’t think straight and had a dull throbbing in the front
of my head.

The library was
in a very old, small, two-story municipal building that was extremely bland and
boring. For such a small library, it was surprisingly busy and it was hard to
find a place to sit. This afternoon they were holding a workshop on how to
manage stress and anxiety. I was thinking I should probably stay and join in as
my stress and anxiety levels were pretty high. Riley however, dragged me away
and over to the counter where a particularly pretty lady sat.

He had to pick
the pretty one didn’t he? I mean, sitting right next to her was a large, frumpy
looking woman with a frown on the face. Why didn’t he go to her instead? Okay,
after my run-in with Scott my imagination was working overtime. It didn’t help
that Riley had been so close all freaking day, and looked and smelt like heaven
on a stick, just tempting me to lick him. In fact, running my tongue up his
neck might just improve my mood and help with the hangover. It would actually
be doing both of us a favor, really.

I scowled as
Miss Pretty Library Lady fluttered her eyelashes at Riley as she directed us
upstairs to where the old photos were kept. It turns out there weren’t very
many of them we were interested in, only five in fact, all black and white.

Struggling to
concentrate on the photos and not on Riley, I turned the photo over and read
the writing on the back. The first one was taken in 1949 and was of an older
woman standing with a younger woman in front of my house. Wow, my old house was
in such good condition then. If only they’d kept it up. I could only assume it
was a photo of a young Avis with her mother. The next few photos were similar. One
of them was of Avis with a lady—maybe a friend or neighbor—and something
about her was familiar. I just couldn’t put my finger on what.