This Old Homicide (23 page)

It was possible that despite what Lizzie and I had gathered from our conversations, Bob and Ned really did know about the necklace. Had they been biding their time, waiting for Jesse to grow more vulnerable? Had Ned told his son, Stephen, about the rare piece and urged him to find a way to get it?

I sighed, frustrated that I kept going over and over the same territory without making any progress. One positive thing I could do, though, was warn Jane that Stephen might have an ulterior motive for spending time with her. That went double for Andrew. Even though I couldn’t figure out a connection, the way he had appeared at Jane’s B-and-B was suspicious all on its own.

I had a roof to finish today, but later that afternoon I planned to drive over to Hennessey House to talk turkey with her.

*   *   *

It didn’t go well.

I drove home from Jane’s, wondering where I’d gone wrong.

I had shown up at happy hour again, just as Jane was pouring wine for the guests. Andrew was already there and Stephen was vying for her attention, as well. I was glad to see her having a good time, but I couldn’t afford to ignore any possible threats.

When I finally got a chance to speak to her in private, all I said was please be careful. Okay, that wasn’t all I said, but the rest came out once Jane started to attack my basic premise.

“What do you mean, be careful?” she demanded when I happened to mention that I was worried about her dating Stephen and Andrew.

I pulled her into the powder room and locked the door. “You know Stephen is a suspect in Jesse’s death. I’m worried that his interest in you is related to the necklace. Don’t forget that one of his credit cards was rejected when he tried to check in. He might be hard up for money.”

“Now, listen to me,” she said in an angry tone I’d rarely heard before. “Stephen is only a suspect on
your
list, Shannon. I don’t happen to like him in that way, but that doesn’t make him a murderer. He is my guest here and I will not tolerate you being rude to him.”

I started to comment on that, but she shut me up fast.

“And another thing,” she said. “Everyone in the world has had a credit card rejected, so you can’t possibly hold that against him. And finally are you saying that the only reason a man might show some interest in me is that stupid necklace?”

“No, of course not. You’re fabulous. But as far as we know, he could be cozying up here because of the necklace. Maybe he thinks you have it stashed upstairs in your bedroom.”

“How would he know about the necklace?”

I frowned. “From his father?” I was losing the argument, so I added, “Besides, a week ago you were claiming to be bored by him.”

That was a mistake.

Jane scowled. “Yes, I was and I feel terrible about that. He has been nothing but polite and helpful since he checked in. He seems to be a very nice man and his attention is… flattering. You can’t argue with that.

I could, but that wasn’t the point. “Fine. But what about Andrew Braxton? Who is this character, anyway? Why is he so insistent on staying here? And then he comes over and flirts with you? I don’t get it. I’m just… I’m worried. Don’t you think it’s kind of weird that Jesse dies and suddenly these two guys show up and…”

I realized halfway through my rant that she was glaring at me. I stopped talking instantly. How much bigger and deeper could I dig the hole in which I was about to bury myself?

I held up my hands. “Never mind. I love you, you’re my best friend, and you deserve every bit of joy any man can bring you.”

“Oh, thanks so much for your blessing.” Jane huffed out a breath. “Jeez, Shannon, can you really not spare one little teaspoon of happiness for me? You know me. I never go out. I rarely date. And now all of a sudden, my life is different. I have the bed-and-breakfast and I have two fascinating men who want to spend time with me. Can you not enjoy the moment with me?”

“Stephen’s fascinating?”

She frowned at me. “Focus, Shannon.”

I felt so awful for hurting her feelings I was going to start crying any second. But before I could say another word, Jane stomped out of the powder room and returned to her guests.

I slunk out through the kitchen and drove home.

*   *   *

I don’t know how word got around that Jane and I had had a little tiff, but the very next afternoon, as I was preparing to hang drywall in the bedroom of one of the Victorians I was rehabbing, I heard through the grapevine—my foreman Carla called me because she’d heard from her sister, whose best friend worked for Jane’s chef—that Whitney Reid Gallagher had shown up at Hennessey House to invite Jane to lunch.

How had Whitney discovered that Jane and I were fighting? It was a mystery. The woman had radar when it came to finding opportunities to interfere with my life.

And because I was paranoid about Whitney in general, the feeling was spreading to other areas of my life, such as, why had Whitney joined the Festival Committee? Had she done it as a way to get close to Jane and try to drive a wedge between us? It wouldn’t surprise me.

Jane had never been as much of a target of Whitney’s ire as I’d been, even though we were both considered “townies” by the mean girls in Whitney’s crowd. The real conflict between Whitney and me had grown out of the fact that I was Tommy’s girlfriend. He was adorable, the quarterback on the football team, and the most popular boy in school. I was popular, too, and very friendly. In those days, I was head of the high school welcoming committee, so whenever new kids came to town, I would befriend them or find out their favorite pastimes and introduce them to others who had the same interests. I wanted everyone to be happy and get along. Just call me Little Mary Sunshine.

Whitney and her group of snooty pals disdained my friendliness from the start. Since I’d never met anyone like her before, I thought maybe she was just shy, so I doubled my efforts to get to know her. Big mistake.

It didn’t help that I liked to dress in jeans and T-shirts and work boots so that I could join my dad at his construction sites after school. The rich girls teased me mercilessly over my outfits, not to mention my mop of red hair and lack of interest in makeup. They assumed I was poor and bashed me for that, too. The irony was that my father made as much money as theirs, but that didn’t matter to the kids whose parents had moved into the gorgeous modern Victorian homes along the Alisal Cliffs—most of which were built by my father.

To Whitney’s group, my friends and I were the working-class people who existed to make life easier for them. It was an age-old struggle, and Whitney and her friends played right into the stereotype, ridiculing us and making our lives as miserable as they could. Usually they failed because we just didn’t care about them as much as they cared about us.

“Enough melodrama,” I muttered as I mixed up a batch of mud to slather across the drywall joints. I’d gotten over my high school angst a long time ago, but unfortunately Whitney was still around, trying to ruin my life. And she couldn’t have found a better way to do it than to come between me and Jane.

I admit I’d screwed up where Jane was concerned, but my heart had been in the right place. If Jane couldn’t see that…

But I was still worried about her. Whitney was evil incarnate. Sweet Jane would be putty in her hands. I wasn’t about to mention that point to Jane, though, because her reaction wouldn’t be pretty.

Naturally the town grapevine conspired to make sure I found out that Jane had accepted Whitney’s invitation to lunch.

Furious with that skinny interloper Whitney, I drowned my sorrows in piles of drywall and mud. I worked ten straight hours that day and tried to avoid any more news about the damn Lunch that Rocked the World.

And as if this day couldn’t get any worse, I had to drag myself to a Festival Committee meeting that night. Even though this was an officially announced meeting, Jennifer and Whitney were no-shows. But I still had to contend with Jane’s frosty behavior toward me. I was relieved that none of the others seemed to notice her curt responses to my comments.

We turned to the topic of the Pet Fashion Show and began coming up with all the possible categories we would offer. I listed what we’d settled on so far. “We have Most Glamorous, Most Dignified, Cutest, Scariest, Most Creative Costume. What else?”

“Most Sporty?” Ellie suggested, and I wrote that down.

Sylvia raised her hand. “How about the one who Most Resembles Food?”

“Oh, like a Dachshund dressed like a hot dog,” Jane said.

“Right. Or a cat dressed as a pizza.”

I checked my list. “We should also decide whether the same animals will parade around together or whether it should be cats with cats and dogs with dogs. Or should we just have a free-for-all?”

We had a hearty debate and finally decided that they should all compete with each other. It was a “pet” show, after all. Not a dog show or a cat show.

“Let’s give it a cute name,” Ellie said. “‘Pet Fashion Show’ is boring.”

“What do you have in mind?” Jane asked.

Ellie looked hopeful. “How about the Pet Parade? That’s a little jazzier.”

Sylvia raised her hand. “I’m entering my cat. I was thinking we could call it the Cat Crawl?”

“The Mutt Strut,” Judy said.

“The Bunny Hop,” Ellie cried.

By now we were giggling as some of them came up with truly silly names, depending on the pet. Procession of the Parrots. The Cavalcade of Cows. Pigs on Parade.

I’d been trying to avoid eye contact with Jane because I hated seeing that scowl on her face. But now I looked at her and she was smiling and so was I. A moment of connection happened and then she looked away.

So there was hope.

In her insatiable need to ruin my life, not only did Whitney try to go after Jane, but she also convinced her husband, Tommy, to nag me until I confessed the reason behind my fallout with Jane. That way, Whitney would be able to casually drop all the right little barbs and stoke Jane’s anger at me and separate us further.

I was probably being a little paranoid about the whole situation, but honestly Whitney was a thing to be feared. Still, Jane knew all about my past with Whitney, so maybe, despite her anger, she might see the truth. It was my only hope.

I ran into Tommy at City Hall that morning when I stopped by to drop off another building permit. He pulled me aside and asked what was going on between me and Jane.

“Why do you ask?” I said.

“Don’t tell Whitney I said anything, but she’s really concerned about you two.”

“Oh, that’s so nice of her,” I said, inwardly rolling my eyes. Tommy was so naive.

“She’s just that way,” Tommy said with a shrug. “She hates it when the people she cares about are having problems. The thing is, she knows you’ll be fine. You’re strong. But she thinks Jane could use a friend right now and is trying to set up a lunch with her.”

I fumed silently. “Your wife is really generous.”

He nodded vigorously. “I know, right? She’s the greatest. I think she’ll be able to give Jane some good advice about her bed-and-breakfast. Whitney is fantastic when it comes to running a business.”

Seeing as how she’d run exactly zero businesses in her life, I could see how he would believe that.

“Oh, Tommy, you’re so lucky you married her.” My voice was as sweet as sugar while in my head I was dreaming of ways to torture the conniving little witch. Like, maybe chop off the stiletto heels from all her shoes when she wasn’t looking.

The thing was, Tommy really was a kindhearted, good-natured guy who believed his wife was as sweet and kind as he was. Tommy was as honest as the day was long, and he wouldn’t think of hurting anyone’s feelings on purpose. He hadn’t changed much since high school when we were dating. Back then he liked surfing, playing football, and me. Probably in that order. These days, I knew that he loved his job and was devoted to his kids and his wife. Probably in that order as well.

And because he was so agreeable, his wife found it pitifully easy to manipulate him. Whatever I said to him would get back to Whitney, so I was always careful when he and I talked. I tried not to abuse his good nature, but right now I was the one who needed information.

“What time is their lunch?” I asked. “Do you know where they’re going? Um, because I would love to send a split of champagne to their table.”

“Hey, that’s a cool idea,” Tommy said, and provided me with the intel I needed.

I gave him a big kiss—because that was how I rolled—and left for my jobsite, where I gleefully pounded nails for two hours straight.

*   *   *

It was twelve noon and I was about to take a lunch break and call the restaurant where Jane was meeting Whitney, when Douglas, who was helping me with the nail pounding, got a phone call.

“I’ve gotta take this,” he shouted.

I relaxed my hammering arm so he could talk on the phone. A minute later he disconnected the call, looking puzzled.

“What happened?” I asked.

“You know my brother, Phil, works at the Inn on Main Street.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“He just told me that some guy committed suicide in his hotel room.”

“Oh my God. That’s terrible.”

Douglas looked stunned. “Phil found the body.”

My stomach dipped. “How awful.”

“He said the guy ordered breakfast from room service, and when Phil brought the tray up, he found him slumped over his computer keyboard. There was a suicide note on the screen and a syringe hanging out of his arm.”

“Oh no. That poor man. That’s so upsetting. Is your brother all right? Is he traumatized?”

My mind was already spinning with questions. Namely, why would anyone order room service and then kill himself before the food arrived? I didn’t say that out loud. I figured I was focused on food because I hadn’t gone to lunch yet.

“Phil’s a little shaky, but he’ll be fine.” Douglas lowered his voice to add, “He thinks the guy was having an affair.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Every time he went to the guy’s room, he smelled perfume.”

“Interesting. Did Phil see the woman?”

Douglas shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

“It was probably his wife.”

“Maybe. Phil said the guy was in town for a conference out at the Zen Center.”

“Your brother found out all that?”

“Yeah. He’s pretty chatty sometimes. And he’d been delivering room service stuff to the guy since he arrived a few days ago.”

I smiled. “Phil’s got a future as a detective.”

“I know. He can be sharp when he wants to be.”

I went back to hammering, but a minute later, my phone rang. I checked the screen and saw that it was Jane. My shoulders fell a little. Was she going to yell at me some more for being an idiot or maybe tell me all about her fabulous lunch with Whitney? I sighed. “Hello.”

“Oh my God, Shannon,” she cried. “Did you hear?”

“Hear what?” Was her lunch with Whitney that bad? I checked the time. I’d missed my window of opportunity to send a bottle of champagne to their table.

“Andrew Braxton is dead! He committed suicide in his hotel room!”

*   *   *

I met Jane across the street from the Inn on Main Street.

“This never would’ve happened if only I’d kept his room open.”

I wound my arm through hers for support. “Jane, this isn’t your fault. He might’ve killed himself in your Desdemona Suite if you hadn’t sent him off to the Inn.”

She gasped and pressed her hand against her mouth. “Oh my God. I hadn’t considered that. It would have been horrible.”

“Yes.” And the publicity would’ve been awful, too. Nobody wanted to stay in a room where a death had just occurred. I didn’t mention that part out loud.

“Oh no,” she cried. “Shannon, today is Friday. He was supposed to move back to Hennessey House today. What happened?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered. Peering through the crowd, I spotted a familiar face. I grabbed her arm. “There’s Tommy. Come on. Let’s try to find out what happened.”

As soon as we reached Tommy, he held up his hand. “I can’t tell you anything, Shannon, so don’t ask.”

I gave Jane a quick look, then said, “I wasn’t going to ask, I swear. But Jane thinks she knows the guy. He was supposed to check into Hennessey House today so she’s pretty upset and wonders if maybe the thought of changing hotels pushed him over the edge.” I was stretching credulity, but I was willing to do whatever it took to get info from Tommy. I leaned in closer and whispered, “We already know the guy committed suicide. And somebody said he was having an affair. Can you tell Jane anything that will help ease her mind?”

“Jeez,” he said, smacking his forehead. “Can’t anyone keep a secret in this town?”

I almost laughed, since I got a lot of my best information from Tommy himself. Then again, this wasn’t a good time to mention that.

“We heard that he typed out the suicide note on his computer,” I added.

“Yeah. Right after he swept the room of any fingerprints,” Tommy muttered in disgust. “Not to mention every strand of hair and any other evidence a normal person would leave in a hotel room.”

It was my turn to gasp. “It was murder.”

Tommy looked skyward, as if some great Being would come down and save him from women who could manipulate him so easily.

I patted his arm. “I didn’t hear you say a single word. But wait. Were the computer keys wiped clean, too?”

He glared at me. “You know I can’t tell you, so stop asking questions.”

“Because if the computer keys were wiped clean of prints,” I continued, “then that pretty much confirms it was murder.”

He pressed his lips together and refused to speak.

I frowned. “But if the keys had his fingerprints on them, indicating suicide, why would he bother to wipe off his prints in the rest of the room?”

I glanced at Jane, who nodded vigorously. “He wouldn’t. Which means it’s obviously murder.”

I smiled in triumph. “Either way, it was murder.”

Tommy grabbed both of our arms and walked us down the sidewalk away from the crowd. “You two troublemakers, get out of here before Chief Jensen sees you.”

We both pulled away from him and I said, “Okay, we’re going. Thanks a lot, Tommy.” I planted a kiss on his cheek.

Jane kissed his other cheek. “Thanks, Tommy.”

We walked together for another block until I finally stopped and turned to look at her. “I’m so sorry about Andrew, Jane. I know you liked him. And I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to. It’s been a weird week and I was just concerned that those guys might be taking advantage of you. I know you can get any man you want and I don’t begrudge you that ability. You’re gorgeous and fun and you’re my best friend and… I was… just… so stupid. I’m sorry.”

She grabbed me and gave me a big hug. “You’re forgiven. I was being ultrasensitive. Let’s not even talk about it anymore.”

“Well, there is one more thing,” I said, staring at the ground. “Did you enjoy your lunch with… she who must not be named?”

“Whitney?” She laughed. “I ended up not going. It was just so creepy to have her fawning all over me.” She shuddered and rubbed her arms. “I knew her sudden interest in me and my business and all that was totally fake. She’s so transparent. I told her I was too busy and asked for a rain check.”

“A rain check. So you’ll go out to lunch with her some other time?”

“Only if you come with me.”

“That’s a big no way, no how, never.”

“Exactly what I thought.”

We walked together back to Hennessey House and went straight up to Jane’s suite. Jane looked ready to pass out so I poured her some tea and we nibbled on the shortbread biscuits her chef was quickly becoming famous for.

Once the adrenaline rush wore off, Jane admitted she was really shaken by Andrew’s death. She still blamed herself and I continued to insist that it wasn’t her fault.

“Tommy practically admitted it was murder,” I said. “So how can it be your fault?”

“Murder,” she whispered. “That’s so awful. I know the two can’t be connected, but isn’t it weird that so soon after Jesse, someone else turns up murdered?”

I stared at my teacup, knowing she was right. The two murders had to be connected. But how?

While we sat in her room commiserating and drinking tea, Whitney called twice. Jane recognized the number and didn’t answer the phone. Apparently, thanks to the gruesome turn of events, Whitney’s devious plans to destroy our friendship were dashed for now. So at least one good thing had happened that day.

There was a knock on Jane’s door.

“Come in,” she called.

The door opened and Althea poked her head in. “Hi there. Mind if I come in for just a moment?”

“Althea, what a surprise.” Jane jumped up and walked across the room to hug the woman. “It’s so good to see you.”

“I was delivering a package to a customer in town and I thought I’d take a chance and stop by.”

“Perfect timing. Come in, won’t you?”

She hesitated by the door. “I really should get back to the shop, but I wanted to see if you’ll have lunch with me tomorrow. Just for fun, you know, girl talk, get to know each other better.” She glanced at me. “You’re more than welcome to join us, Shannon.”

“I’d love to have lunch with you,” Jane said, and flashed me a look. “Please come with us. You knew Jesse so well for so many years, we can all reminisce and have some laughs.”

“In that case, I’d love to.” To tell the truth, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Althea might just be the nice, warm woman she seemed to be. On the other hand, weird things were happening and I couldn’t be sure that she wasn’t a part of them. No way was I letting Jane go off with the woman alone.

Not that I would say that to Jane. I’d learned my lesson with Andrew and Stephen.

“Wonderful,” Althea said. We settled on the time and place, and after hugs all around, she took off back to her shop. Jane and I continued talking and sipping our tea.

“I have a confession to make,” I said.

“Am I going to get mad again?” she asked, but I could tell she was kidding.

“I hope not. I drove around on Tuesday and stopped at a couple of pawnshops and antique stores, hoping to find more shop owners who might’ve seen Jesse’s necklace. I figured if he showed it to Cuckoo with the intention of selling it, he probably showed it to others, too.”

“That was smart.” Her eyes widened. “Wait. One of those owners could be the person who’s been searching Jesse’s house. He might’ve killed him for it.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“Oh my God, Shannon, you
weren’t
thinking. You could’ve put yourself in danger.”

“Nobody’s going to kill me for asking the question,” I insisted. “They were all perfectly normal shopkeepers. Well, except for Cuckoo. He really is crazy. And there was this one pawnbroker who was pretty ominous, but I got out of there okay.”

“Oh, jeez, you’re scaring me.”

“Don’t worry.” The odd thing was that I hadn’t been scared at all. Well, except for that one guy at the pawnshop. And Cuckoo, of course. Okay, I was scared. But I managed to leave both shops without a mishap.

“Anyway, the reason I’m telling you this is that I was halfway down the coast and decided to drive the rest of the way to Althea’s shop in Blue Point.”

She tilted her head. “You saw Althea on Tuesday?”

“Not exactly. She was leaving for lunch just as I arrived. I waited—and she never saw me—and then I went inside. And ended up buying a pretty new jacket.”

Jane shook her head at me. “You were snooping.”

“Maybe.” I smiled. “Yes, I was snooping. Anyway, the point is, I talked to Althea’s salesclerk, who raved about her being the best boss who ever lived. So that’s reassuring, right?”

Jane thought about it. “Yes, very. I’m glad to hear it.” With a sigh, she took a sip of her tea. “It makes me think that Jesse was happy spending time with her.”