Brewing the Midnight Oil

by Constance Barker

  Ivy pressed her lips together, hesitant to say the words. “Okay, I know you don’t believe in the curse, even if, like, dozens of people have died owning the Queen’s Dowry Tiara, not including shipwrecks.”

  “At this point, I’ll humor any suggestion. I’m guessing you’re going to ask me who stands to benefit the most should Gus Beranger die. Cursed tiara as murder weapon,” Everett mused. “Probably hard to prosecute.”

  “Yeah. Who would benefit the most?”

  Everett frowned. “It’s not that simple. A last will and testament aren’t public documents until after the death.”

  “Well, you have all that paperwork from Gus’ lawyers.”

  “I think I’d have to get Gus to sign off on that,” Everett said.

  Ivy said, “What’s the big deal looking at his will if he wants to find the tiara?”

  “You know what the big deal is.”

  For a moment, Ivy thought it over. “Gus might not want to do it, if it leads to finding out that someone in his family is out to murder him.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  “Of course he’d want to know!” Ivy said.

  “Really. If I came to you and said I needed to look at your will, because someone in your family was plotting to kill you, you’d just say, yep, let’s do this.”

  Ivy opened her mouth, and stopped. At first, she ran through her family members. Who would want to kill her? Well, nobody, right? And if someone in her family really did want to murder her, could she even face that?

  Everett nodded. “I thought not.”

  “Maybe not,” Ivy agreed.

  He sighed. “I have done a lot of work for Beranger’s attorney. Maybe if I convince him that Gus is in danger, he might let on. Murder by curse might not be convincing.”

  “I could give you a list of curse victims,” Ivy offered.

  “Um, yeah—no. Let me do this my way. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

  Chapter 13

  Ivy swam along the ocean floor, up and down over the gentle dunes. Shoals of tropical fish darted in and out of her dive light. She was flying, free, in the silent ocean. She couldn’t even hear the bubbles from her respirator.

  The beauty of the ocean turned ugly. She kicked over a field of garbage. Most of it was fast food containers and cups with dangerous plastic straws. In the distance, she saw a shape sticking out of the sand. Ivy swam toward it. As she neared, she picked out the humped shape of a treasure chest. She kicked her fins harder.

  Below her, the garbage turned into tiaras. There were hundreds of them. She marveled at the find, but the chest beckoned. When she reached it, she threw the lid open. It was heaped with silver and gold coins, jewelry, pearls, and even more tiaras. All the ones on the sand must have spilled from this chest.

  As she stuck her hand in the mound of gold, Ivy shot up in bed. She had to pee so bad! Danged ol’ swimming dreams! When she returned to bed, she checked the time on her cell phone. It was only six a.m. She could sleep in a couple hours before she opened August Botanica.

  Before she could crawl back under the covers, the phone dinged. Are you being totally serious right now, a text message at six in the morning? It was from Everett, of course.

  No go on the will angle. Daughters inherit. Call later.

  “Call later?” Ivy mumbled at the phone. “Does that mean you’re calling me, or I’m calling you? Whatever.”

  She tossed the phone on her bedside table and hauled up the covers. Snuggling into the pillow, she wished she could go back to the dream, or at least the part where she became a bazillionaire. Instead, she sat bolt upright. The dream and text message mingled in her brain. She texted Everett back:

  Do you have access to Odditorium? No B&E.

  It only took a few seconds for him to respond.

  Pick U up in 20

  “Dang it all!” Ivy raced for the shower. She hosed off in record time. Funny, but without Moira “helping,” she managed to slip into the blue houndstooth suit, do her hair and makeup and have enough time to make coffee and fill her to-go cup before the throaty sound of the Viper rattled the building.

  A true southern gentleman, Everett stood by the side of the car and opened the passenger door for her.

  “You have something.”

  Ivy smoothed the back of her skirt and slid into the car. “I think so.”

  “Because the girls stand to benefit the most from Gus’ death.”

  Why could he not ask a question? “Maybe.”

  Somehow, they managed to beat the traffic in historic St. Augustine. Everett pulled into the Grand Odditorium lot. A few large trucks parked again. Above the front entrance, a banner announced the impending True Treasures Exhibit. Everett pulled to the back as he had the last time.

  Eagle Security guards recognized them. Everett gestured inside. “This is your play. I’m not sure what we’re doing here.”

  “You know how, in the movies, you show a vampire a cross or a mirror, or reveal the wound on a guy who’s a suspected werewolf?”

  “No.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Everett walked beside her. She headed toward the Pirates of the Spanish Main hall.

  “You’ve never seen ‘Dracula,’ or ‘The Wolf Man?’”

  “I’ve seen the films. Still no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Did she really have to explain this to him? Well, she didn’t exactly have the plan down yet herself. There was something she needed—the missing piece of the puzzle. Once in the exhibit, she glanced around. Of course, there was treasure everywhere, just like in her dream. At this hour, none of the special effects lighting was turned on. The exhibits that seemed magical now looked cheesy and fake.

  Speaking of magical, she had to get Everett out of the picture for a second. “I think we’re going to need the keys. Maybe a guard has to be present if we start opening stuff.”

  “We’re gonna open stuff so we can show a cross to a vampire.”

  “Do you remember saying you’d humor any suggestion at this point?” Ivy eyed him.

  “I do.”

  “Okay, so humor me.”

  Everett shrugged and walked off to find a guard. Ivy dug her cell phone out. She’d jammed some more salt packets from Jersey Mike’s in her purse, and broke one open. With the mirror app running, she sprinkled salt on the screen. Turning in a slow circle, she whispered the words:

  Harken to my commanding sound

  Magic around, magic abound

  Magic hidden, now magic found

  Magic hidden, now magic found!

  For a moment, nothing happened. She turned more, trying to take in all the glassed in exhibits at once. Gazing through the faux broken ribs of a sunken ship, she took in all the treasure chests, gold, silver, jewels, swords, guns, paper machete skeletons, backdrops painted with fish…

  An aura rose from one of the saddest-looking little display chests. More of an anti-aura, really, a darkness sucked all the light from the surrounding area. With a sizzling sound, the salt on her phone screen dispersed into yellow smoke.

  At the sound of footsteps, she waved the smoke away and dropped her phone in her purse. Everett and a guard rounded the corner and started into the exhibit hall. While Klein looked amused, the guard made a grumpy face.

  “I need to get into there.” Ivy pointed at the glass framed by rotting pirate ship timbers and the narrow exhibit beyond.

  The guard looked a question at Everett. Everett held his palms up. Frowning, the guard walked past Ivy. He pulled open a door hidden by the dark wood of the ship timber decoration. Ivy gaped. It wasn’t even locked.

  “Anything else? I’m off in ten,” the guard said.

  “You don’t need to watch me go in there?” Ivy said.

  The guard gave her eyebrows. “Watch you look at a bunch of plastic gold coins and painted sharks? I’m outta here.”

  When she was yo
ung, the exhibits here were thrilling stuff. With plain overhead lights on and no glass separating, the sunken treasure guarded by a skeleton looked cheap. Light House put up better displays for Halloween trick-or-treaters. Ivy wasn’t here to judge. She stepped inside the display.

  The treasure chest was actually a cardboard box, only decorated on the front and sides. The skeleton was of the plastic variety Ivy wouldn’t even hang on her door in the fall. Even the sandy bottom was just lumpy cardboard covered in glittery stuff.

  Just like in her dream, she jammed her hands into the pile of gold. Well, plastic and cardboard, but it looked like a bunch of doubloons. A few gumball machine rings and pearls fell out. Many of the coins were just aluminum foil discs. But her fingers touched something solid and heavy.

  She pulled it out, spilling the remaining prop treasure all over the place. It looked a lot like the object she and Blanche recovered from the ocean floor. The filigree was much less delicate, the rim of it bore the marks of a goldsmith’s hammer. Ivy thought it looked like the work of an artisan stuck in a steaming backwater of a colony and tasked with making something beautiful. It was, she thought, it in its own way.

  “Here,” she handed it out the door to Everett. “Let me put this junk back in the trunk.”

  She did her best to re-pile the fake coins and gems in an attractive way. Then she walked out and closed the door. Everett stood, transfixed by the Queen’s Dowry Tiara.

  “Hidden in plain sight,” she said.

  “Purloined Letter.” Everett didn’t take his eyes off it. “I don’t get how you knew it was here.”

  “Intuition,” Ivy said. “Because the daughters stand to inherit everything, and Tanner said only Mrs. Beranger ever showed any interest, and the divorce was contentious around twenty years ago, and Lola is best buds with a woman who broke up her marriage.”

  “You need more coffee,” Everett said. “You’re not making any sense this morning.”

  “Yes, I need coffee, but I am making sense. Let’s go.”

  She walked out of the exhibit hall, Everett on her heels.

  “To the Berangers,” he said.

  “To show some crosses to some vampires.”

  ***

  It was more of a fight to get back out of St. Augustine proper, and beach traffic was even more of a nightmare, even so early in the day. Though it was only late spring, apparently the tourist season was upon them. Finally, Everett fought his way off of A1A and headed west toward Wahoo Drive. The trip was a long one, but Everett was too focused on defensive driving to talk much.

  Once in the neighborhood, he glanced at her. “Low hanging fruit first.”

  Ivy agreed. “We have Susan dead to rights. She may not have stolen the real tiara, but stealing is stealing.”

  He turned the car down Wahoo Drive, and then down the street marked Private. “Employees generally announce themselves at the east wing door.” Everett did a pretty good impression of the snooty butler’s English accent.

  They parked the Viper near the loading dock. Everett hauled the strong box out of the trunk. When they reached the building, the guard stood up. “Hang on, there.”

  “Klein. I’m expected.”

  “I know who you are, Detective, but I have to inspect that package. Rules of the house.”

  Everett set it down next to the security booth. “That’s fine. When you’re done, bring it to Susan Miller-Day’s office.”

  “Please,” Ivy added.

  They got buzzed through the loading dock main door and headed toward the office. Ivy almost had to trot to keep up with Everett. As per usual, he strode through the outer office, nodding to the women on their phones, and opened Susan’s door. The woman scowled at the intrusion.

  “Don’t get up,” Everett said. “I’m just giving you the heads up.”

  “You need an appointment to give me a heads up, Mr. Klein.”

  “Fine. I’ll let Gus discuss this with you.”

  Susan stood up anyway. “Discuss what?”

  “Your theft of the Queen’s Dowry Tiara.” Everett shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe you’ll have to discuss it with the police instead.”

  She moved quickly around her desk, her eyes venomous, her finger like a weapon. She aimed at Everett. “This is preposterous. I am going to have Gus yank his contract with you, and have the state revoke your investigator’s license. I have nothing, nothing to do with that museum and its collection of junk.”

  “You do have influence on the guards who get hired,” Ivy said.

  Everett nodded. “Makes it conspiracy, as well as grand theft.”

  “I don’t know if Linda-Lou will corroborate, but her bank statements will,” Ivy said.

  “Get out of my office. Get out of this house. You are fired,” Susan said.

  Everett shrugged. “We were hired by Gus Beranger.”

  “As you said, I have influence over the security hires. That includes you. Go, or I call the guards to drag you out.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “What?” Susan spat and whirled toward the door.

  The guard’s mouth fell open. He shuffled his feet. “Um, you wanted security. Anyway, this is for you.”

  He held up the strong box. Susan took a step away from it. Ivy thought it looked like the woman shrank a few inches, but her hair seemed to stand straight up. “Let’s open it,” Ivy said.

  “No!” Susan took another step away, eyes locked on the box.

  “Looks like you’re busted,” Everett said.

  Ivy added, “Maybe cursed.”

  “Johnny Starling didn’t last long after he grabbed this for you,” Everett mused.

  The guard blinked, not knowing what to make of the situation. He said, “there’s a… a gold crown in here.”

  As if the words were the firing of a starting gun, Susan sprinted from her office. She was gone before anyone could move. The guard looked after her. “Should I stop her?”

  Everett raised his eyebrows at Ivy. “Vampire with a cross. I get it now.”

  “You want me to call the cops?” The guard looked down at the burden in his hand.

  “Put it on her desk,” Everett said. “We’ll let Gus decide what he wants to do.”

  “I don’t know. This is really out of the ordinary.” The guard hesitated.

  Everett nodded. “I agree. Do you know if Gus Beranger is in the house?”

  “Having breakfast by the pool.”

  “Thanks.” Everett headed out, Ivy following.

  “I really think I should call my supervisor,” the guard called out.

  Everett raised a hand. “Whatever your procedure is.” They headed toward the pool.

  Chapter 14

  “I explicitly remember uninviting you.” Tanner stopped them in the room near the pool, blocking them with a tray loaded with covered plates, coffee cups and juice glasses. Ivy’s stomach rumbled, embarrassingly. She hadn’t eaten yet today.

  Klein smiled at him. “I think you’ll be joining us rather than serving us. Is the gang all here?”

  “Gang, sir?”

  “Both Mrs. Berangers, Gus, the girls?”

  Tanner eyed him. “They are.”

  “Good. I’m sure they’ll all be excited about our news.”

  Despite his training at the finest butlering schools in Europe, Tanner’s face fell in obvious dismay. “You located the tiara.”

  “Two so far,” Klein said. “You want me to get the door for you?”

  Tanner’s back stiffened. Expression left his face. He marched to the door and out to the pool deck. “Mr. Klein,” he announced. “…And associate.”

  Gus lay on a lounge chair beneath a white fabric umbrella, a towel over his face. “This better be good, Klein. I’m having breakfast with my girls. They’re only here a couple days.”

  “Trust me, Gus. This is good.”

  He whipped the towel off his square head. “You found it?” Gus’ eyes bulged.

  Ivy looked around the pool deck. Bronwyn lay on
a lounger next to Gus, dressed in a teeny bikini and enormous sunglasses. She seemed to be asleep. A few chairs away, Lola Beranger sat with her daughters. The girls were drying off from a swim. Lola looked anything but asleep.

  “Who took it?” Gus asked.

  “Well, there’s the rub.” Everett sat down in a wicker chair and stretched out his legs. “Technically, the tiara from the museum was stolen by John Starling.”

  “Who?”

  “An Eagle Security guard.”

  “That asshole Frankie is supposed to vet all those guys!”

  “He might have, except Susan pulled some strings.”

  Gus started, his eyes nearly crossing. “Susan?”

  “They were in cahoots, and, frankly, it’s a complicated story. You can read all about it in my report. The thing is, Susan didn’t steal the real tiara. She stole a fake.”

  Beranger shook his head, unable to speak.

  “It’s in a box on her desk. The gold is flaky and the thing is kinda rusty.” Everett shrugged.

  “Lord help me, you found a counterfeit tiara that Susan stole. Where’s the real one?”

  “Safe,” Ivy said. “Right, Tanner?”

  “Perfectly safe,” Tanner said. “As per your orders, sir.”

  Gus’ face crinkled, his skin redder than the sun had made it. “My orders?”

  Tanner took covered plates to the girls. “Yes, sir. You asked me, as a gentleman’s gentleman, to keep the tiara safe for the sakes of Tiffany and Briana.”

  “I did?” Gus angled his head and squinted.

  “I can produce the letter, sir.” He set the plates at a mosaic tiled table near the girls and removed the cloches. “Vegetarian for Tiff, all meat for Bri.”

  “Thanks, Tanner,” one of the girls said.

  The butler smiled at the girls and returned to the tray. He set a cup of coffee in the cup holder on the arm of Bronwyn’s lounger. He uncovered a plate covered in eggs and meat and handed it to Gus.

  Gus took it. “When did I do this? Why did I do this?”

  “I remember the day perfectly, sir. It was September 11, 2001.” Tanner uncovered the last plate and walked it over to Lola Beranger, poached eggs and toast. “There was no explicit explanation, but reading between the lines, I believe you feared for your business, given the fact that the United States was under a terrorist threat.”