My shoulders sank. The end to his story was deflating. It would be impossible to write about the scandal and trickery if there was no proof. But if Danny still firmly believed that Evan had caused him such a terrible year of stress and financial loss, then it was easy to see why he despised Evan. It was a part of his past that would leave a long, deep scar.
Past. The word repeated in my head. Danny portrayed a different ghost in the play, but was he actually the Ghost of Christmas Past for Evan Weezer?
"I should get back to my work." Roger's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "You can wait for Danny if you'd like, but it could be several hours."
"Thank you. I'll try back another time." His phone rang.
"I need to answer this," he said.
"Of course. Thanks for your time."
Chapter 22
The morning hadn't been a complete waste. I'd gotten some fairly juicy details about the relationship or, rather, war between the two real estate agents. It seemed to me that I'd uncovered a possible motive for Evan's death. Revenge. Danny had gone through a severe patch of trouble with his business, and if Evan had been behind it, or even if Danny believed it to be true, then he had a strong motive for murder.
I drove my jeep along Butternut Crest and decided to add to my morning's accomplishments by picking up the brooch Chris had secretly purchased for Mom. The last thing I expected, as I turned into the parking lot, was to see Joanna Fritz, Evan's fiancée, scurrying into Larson's Pawn Shop.
I pulled my knitted cap low over my forehead and pushed my scarf up higher so I could slip inside without her recognizing me from the night before. I didn't want my presence to influence her visit to the pawn shop. I had no idea what had brought her to Larson's shop. It probably had nothing to do with the case, but I preferred a clean snooping mission.
My winter cover was meant to help me slip inside unnoticed, but Larson's string of jingle bells on the door had the opposite effect. Larson peered at me over the rim of his glasses. Joanna turned briefly to see who had walked through the door. She quickly returned her focus to the small velvet box sitting on the counter in front of her. She didn't even stop for a second glance after I walked in, so either the hat and scarf had done the trick or she was too preoccupied to care. Her eyes were clear, and there was no sign of crying this morning.
I walked over to the window display that held an array of cuckoo clocks and music boxes. I pretended to look them over, all the while keeping my ear turned toward the conversation at the counter.
"This is an engagement ring," Larson said in surprise.
I inched closer to where they were standing and picked up a clock to examine.
"Yes, but I don't need it anymore. How much do you think it's worth?"
"I'm sorry to hear that," Larson said. He obviously had no idea why she no longer needed it. It was easy enough for him to presume that the engagement had been broken. Just as it would be hard to imagine that someone who'd just lost their betrothed to a vicious murder would make selling off the engagement ring a top priority.
It seemed beyond strange and harsh for her to show up at the pawn shop just twelve hours after Evan's murder. Joanna had been extremely distraught at the scene. Was that an act for the investigators?
"Can you leave it with me for a day or two?" Larson asked. "I have a friend who's a jeweler. She can assess the quality of the diamonds and quote me a fair market value."
"I assure you they are of the highest quality. The ring cost seven thousand dollars, or at least that was what I was told."
As surprised as I was to discover that tightfisted Evan Weezer spent that much on a ring, I was equally not surprised to learn that he'd actually told his fiancée how much he spent.
"I'm sure it's valuable. I just don't like to make an offer on jewelry without an expert's opinion." Larson was standing firm on his plan.
"Fine. I'll need some kind of receipt that you have it. Will you know by tomorrow morning? I'm in need of the money."
"Yes, tomorrow morning." Larson walked over to his register and pulled out a receipt book.
I felt a sudden pang of guilt when something I hadn't considered popped into my head. It was entirely possible that Joanna needed a large chunk of money to pay for Evan's funeral. Maybe the ring was the only thing of value she owned, and now she had to sell off the one tangible memory of her engagement to pay for her betrothed's burial.
I stayed busy with the glass trinkets on the shelf while Larson wrote up a receipt for the ring. Joanna's fast footsteps clipped across the floor. The jingle bells clanged to signal her exit.
"Can I help you with something?" Larson called from the counter.
"Yes, thank you. I'm here to pick up a brooch. My mother was in here yesterday and she fell in love with an amber brooch. When she wasn't looking, her friend, Chris, purchased it for her. He said he didn't have a chance to sneak it into his pocket before they left. I'm here to pick it up for him."
"Of course. I have it in the back. I found a box for it too."
"Great."
Larson went to the back of the store. Standing in front of the glass cases that held the most valuable items, including antique guns, I was transported back to my first article and coincidentally enough, my first murder investigation. A valuable gun had been lifted from the glass cabinet by the boyfriend of Larson's daughter. I'd spent time pretending to be interested in the pawned items on the shelves that day too in order to snoop. That case was how I met Jackson. At the time, I never would have guessed that the two of us might see each other socially. Although, last night ended up being more official business than social. I sure hoped that wasn't going to become a pattern when the two of us stepped out together.
Larson returned with the box and brooch. Mom was right. The amber sunflower petals were close in color to Jackson's eyes. "It's beautiful. My mom will be thrilled."
Larson put it in a bag with the receipt.
"I guess that happens more than people imagine," I said, hoping to squeeze a little information out of a man who probably dealt with the occasional engagement ring sale.
"What's that?"
I motioned toward the velvet box sitting near his register.
"Oh, the ring? Not too often. When it's the bride-to-be looking to pawn the ring, it means the groom broke it off or did something despicable enough to make her want to get rid of it just to wash away the heartbreak. And to make sure he doesn't ask for it back. Not sure about this woman though. She seemed less angry than most of them. Usually they're willing to take any offer just to be rid of the thing and to make sure the guy doesn't put it on another woman's finger."
"That all makes sense." While I knew the reason the engagement was off, I didn't feel it was my place to tell Larson. Joanna might have left off that striking detail on purpose.
I picked up the bag with the brooch. "Thank you. Happy holidays."
"You too."
I walked out into the parking lot and the blast of fresh air pushed a new thought into my head. What if the engagement had been broken before Evan's death? Maybe Joanna was easily parting with the ring because her heart had been broken just like Larson mentioned.
I pulled out my phone. It was a stretch but I figured it couldn't hurt. Lana answered on the first ring. "I was just about to call you." She lowered her voice. "Chris is wondering if you can pick up the brooch for Mom. I've got a client coming this morning, so I won't have time."
"Already picked it up."
"Perfect. I'll let Chris know." She was about to hang up.
"Uh, hello, I called you, remember? And it wasn't about the brooch. Just curious, what was the name on the account for the cancelled wedding reception?"
"Hmm, hang on. I've got a ton of names swirling in my head. That was kind of a weird one too because I never met the groom. The entire account was under the bride's name. Poor thing was trying to pay for it herself because her family didn't have the money. Wait a second, it's in my phone." There was a pause, then Lana returned. "The bride
was Joanna Fritz."
"Thought it might be. She was supposed to marry the man who was murdered on stage last night."
"Dead Ebenezer was her fiancé? You're kidding."
"Nope and I just saw her in the pawn shop trying to sell the ring to Dick Larson. It was a nice one too. She came to the scene last night, visibly and rightfully shaken. The fact that he had broken off the engagement never came up. Hmm, I guess, as they say, the plot thickens."
"And you worried about writing a boring story. Hey, Mom, Emily and I are going to bake gingerbread cookies tonight at my house if you can pull yourself away from your investigation," she teased.
"Well, I'm certainly not letting a cookie baking session take place without me. I'll see you later."
A text came through from Jackson just as I climbed into the car.
"Lunch at Layers at noon? I want to make up for last night's disastrous date."
I stared at the word date and rubbed my finger over it. It was real and not just a typo. I was fairly certain it was a date but now I had proof. "I would like that. And I've found out a few details that might interest you."
"Great. See you then."
Chapter 23
Jackson was outside of Layers, talking on his phone, as I walked up. He hung up and put his phone in the pocket of his blue windbreaker. His smile warmed me inside, much like a hot cup of cocoa.
"Hey, Bluebird, busy morning?" He held open the door for me and we walked inside. As always seemed to be the case when I stepped into a place with Detective Jackson, a number of curious glances and outright stares fell our direction. I wondered if it was just because he was a member of law enforcement. Or maybe they'd seen him walk into places with so many different women, people were just getting a gander of his newest friend. That notion soured my empty stomach some so I pushed it away. I was hungry, and I'd been thinking about the Danny Kaye, cream cheese, tomato and basil on a toasted whole grain bun ever since Jackson suggested Layers.
"I have been busy," I said as we slid into a booth at the back. Jackson offered me a menu. "I already know what I want. I found out early on that if I didn't walk in here with my mind made up, I risked spending my entire lunch break deciding."
He chuckled. "There are a lot of choices, however, I usually trade off between Boris Karloff and Jack Benny. It's Karloff's turn today." He stuck the menus back into their holder.
Mitch, the server, a young guy the owner, Ballard, hired for the holiday season and who she quickly made permanent, came to the table to take our order. He returned right away with my hot tea and Jackson's soda.
"Anything new with the case?" I asked as I squeezed lemon into my tea.
"He definitely died from the stab wound."
"Pretty much figured that one out already. Come on, don't keep a nosy journalist hanging. There must be something else."
"I'm sure there is. My problem is that because we're shorthanded I'm working on so many cases, I hardly have time to focus on anything. I've got someone researching Weezer's business history and potentially unhappy clients. Sometimes it's easier to look for a motive and hope it leads to a suspect."
"Well then, I might have something for you." I primly placed my napkin on my lap. "Since I am writing an article about the play—"
"You mean the ten minute production of A Christmas Carol with a grisly new twist?"
"Yes, obviously the focus of my article has shifted. But since it's part of my assignment, I decided to interview Danny Danforth and get a few more insights to Evan's character and their abrasive relationship."
Jackson took a drink of his cola. "I hope you got a confession out of him. Then I could check one off of the list."
"Not exactly. In fact, I didn't even get to see Danny. Turns out he's very busy now that his biggest competitor is dead."
Jackson sensed immediately what I was getting at. He tilted his head side to side. "Could definitely be classified as a motive. Money is always a powerful incentive."
"Couple that with revenge, and you've got a double whammy."
"A double whammy, eh?" Jackson leaned back and gazed at me with those amber jewel eyes. It threw me off my train of thought for a second.
I gathered myself. "A few years back, Danny was taken to court by a disgruntled couple who claimed he was forcing them into a bad contract. He had to pay big legal fees and even lost his real estate license and, therefore, his income for nearly a year. He'd held the number one agent position before that, but his reputation was destroyed. Eventually, the couple dropped the suit. While Danny was on suspension, Evan Weezer zipped his way right up to the top spot. Danny is convinced he paid the couple to cause the ruckus and ruin his business."
"Did Danny ever prove it?"
"No, but he still believes it. That would leave a nasty sting if your business was ruined by a competitor who was playing dirty tricks." I sat back with a satisfied smile. "There you have it—the double whammy. Revenge and money."
Jackson nodded. "Good work. We'll have to dig deeper into that scandal and see what we find."
Mitch delivered our food.
I grabbed the salt and pepper. "Danny Danforth might not have been the only one with a motive. I found something out about another person during my morning adventures."
Jackson poured ketchup on his fries. "Sounds like you had a way more productive morning than me. Is this someone from the cast or crew of the play?"
"No but she was there last night, and she had a good reason to be there."
"The fiancée." He said confidently. I'd learned early on that Jackson was always one step ahead of me in my own thoughts.
"Yes, only she was not his fiancée last night."
His brow arched in confusion.
"Ah ha, I finally stayed ahead of you." I cheered lightly. "You always seem to know exactly what I'm going to say, and frankly, it's pretty darn annoying."
He shrugged. "It's a gift. If I didn't have it, I'd probably be shifting boxes around the evidence room or mopping up stuff on the morgue floor." He stared down at his Boris Karloff, a burger with guacamole and grilled onions. "Probably could have left that last part about the morgue off. So why wasn't she a fiancée last night?" he asked as he lifted the burger with both hands and took a good, manly bite.
"My sister, Lana, got word on Tuesday that one of her January wedding receptions had been canceled because the groom broke it off. Lana said the woman was out a hefty deposit because of how late it was. My sister had already spent money on decorations and linens."
"The jilted bride was Joanna Fritz?" Jackson wiped his mouth after I pointed out a tiny drip of guacamole.
"Yes, and Joanna didn't waste any time trying to cash in the engagement ring. Probably to help replace the money she lost on the reception deposit and, no doubt, dress and photographer deposit. There are so many expenses that come with a wedding. Lana said the groom apparently had no hand and little interest in the wedding. It was all on Joanna's shoulders, and she was paying for everything herself."
"That Weezer really was a Scrooge." Jackson's phone buzzed as he lifted his cola. "It'll be short. It's the precinct."
I took a few minutes to enjoy my Danny Kaye while Jackson answered a quick call. He was plunging his straw up and down in the glass with his free hand.
"Straw," I blurted just loud enough to catch his attention.
"I'll head out there as soon as I'm done eating," Jackson said to whoever was on the other side. He hung up. "Did you want me to ask Mitch for a straw?"
"No, I didn't mean that kind of straw. I was so tired by the end of the night, I nearly forgot the two things I found when I searched the perimeter of the tent." I picked up my coat that was lying next to me on the seat and fished through the pockets. I pulled out the tissue wrapped candy package and the tissue wrapped piece of straw.
Jackson sat forward with interest. Suddenly I wished I had something a little more exciting to show him. "This is just a candy wrapper. I'm sure it got swept in from the festival, but I found this too."
I held the tissue on my hand and opened it to reveal the single strand of straw."
Jackson stared at it for a moment. "That looks like straw."
"It is straw. I found it under the border of the tent right next to the place where Evan was stabbed. I know it doesn't look like much, but when I searched around the tent area, there wasn't any logical place it could have come from."
"It was windy last night. Straw is light. It could have come from fifty miles away on a farm." Jackson returned his attention to his burger.
I was somewhat disappointed at his lack of interest, even if I could have predicted it. It wasn't as if I presented him with some major piece of evidence. Just a slim piece of straw that, as he pointed out, could have traveled miles on the wind. Or it could have traveled several blocks from the Nativity manger.
"I know it's not much but maybe I should toss this nugget out. The piece of straw might not have traveled to the tent on the wind at all. What if someone brought it there on their clothes?"
He peered at me over his burger as he continued chewing, waiting me for to fill in something interesting.
"Joanna Fritz, the broken-hearted bride-to-be, is in charge of the festival's Nativity scene."
"Yep, she mentioned that last night." He wiped his hands. "So you think she dragged that piece of straw on her clothing, and it fell off during the time she waited in the dark to stab her ex-fiancé?"
"Yes," I said confidently. "It's just one theory, of course, but I think it's a good one. And there is both passion and money in that motive. Another double whammy."
Jackson nodded. "Better than anything we've got so far. I'll keep Joanna Fritz on my radar. When my radar's in town. I've got to head out to Smithville for another case I'm wrapping up."
He was nearly finished with his burger. I handed him half of my Danny Kaye and got to work on my portion. This time, I was the one with something on my lip. But instead of pointing it out, Jackson reached right over and wiped the cream cheese off with his thumb. I should have felt a bit embarrassed, but I was too busy catching my breath from the surprise gesture.
A Humbug Holiday Page 11
