“How sad,” Henrietta observed.
“It is. But the clincher was the fact that one neighbor, a really nosy lady across the street, said that the only time she did see the woman leave the house was about five minutes before the mailman came once a week.”
“To put out a letter?”
“Exactly.”
“What’s more?” His eyes sparkled. “There is a path behind their house that leads to the lighthouse. It’s secluded, so no neighbor could see her leave—if she did—but they are in the subdivision not more than a mile from the lighthouse.”
That seemed to seal the deal for Henrietta. It was the portion of the path that she’d seen the woman running down. She thought of the car she’d seen pull away two times from the lighthouse parking lot, as if someone were keeping an eye on the goings-on there as long as the police weren’t around.
“Do you know what car the husband drives?”
“Not yet, but I can have Scott look into it. Why?”
“It’s a hunch I have.”
Henrietta’s mind cycled through what had likely happened. Perhaps during one of the long days that Deborah, or Dee, had been at home by herself, forbidden to leave her home, she’d considered taking a walk. Surely, a woman like that would want to get out of the house once in a while.
It was possible—likely, even—that she’d made her way all the way to the lighthouse. Without being seen by her neighbors, her indiscretion by her husband’s standards would seem like a reprieve.
During one of those lighthouse walks, it would have been easy to come across Gerald’s path. Meeting someone who had lost someone, who was kind and nothing like her husband, Deborah had likely easily fallen into something, whether romantic or friendship at first with him.
From the letters she had read, she saw a true companionship that focused mostly on their friendship and shared historical interests. There were mentions a few times of her responses to Gerald and how she simply couldn’t leave him. Knowing what William had put her through, Henrietta couldn’t fathom why not, but she was not one to judge other’s motivations or convictions.
“What’s going on in that head?” Ralph asked, wanting to be filled in.
She explained her thought process and said that the pieces certainly fit, but there was a bigger question.
“What’s that?” Ralph asked.
“Where is William now?”
11
Henrietta left the dance hall feeling satisfied with their decorations. The dance was just around the corner, but she and Olivia had put in a lot of work. Today was one of her last days to put on the final touches, and she felt confident in what they’d done. Even Mayor Rickey would be shocked into silence, she thought.
Her self-satisfied smile slipped the minute she walked into the shop. The sound of crying distracted her from the sense of accomplishment, and she rushed toward the back. Stepping around the corner, she saw Olivia with her head down, crying into her arms.
“Olivia?” Henrietta asked, concern lacing her words. “Are you all right?”
The young woman jerked up, tears streaking her cheeks that were now rosy with color.
“Henrietta,” she said, as if shocked to see her employer. “I—I didn’t realize what time it was.”
Henrietta had asked Olivia to come in and open the shop for her, since she was finishing up at the dance hall. It was a few minutes past the time she’d asked the young woman to open the shop, but clearly there were more important things to discuss.
“What is going on, dear?” she said, coming around beside the young woman and putting her arm around her shoulders.
“I’m—I,” she sniffed loudly, and Henrietta reached for a Kleenex to give her. “I broke up with Nelson.”
Henrietta’s eyes went wide. “You did?”
“Y-yes.” She took in a deep, shuddering breath and seemed to calm some. “I did what I told you. I went to him last night and asked if he would go to the dance with me. I explained to him that it was important to me, that we’d done so much work and I wanted to go. And you know what he did?”
More tears filled her eyes, and Henrietta shook her head gently. “What?”
“He laughed. He laughed in my face. He said there was no way he’d go, and then he brushed me off to meet up online with some friends.” She looked more resolved now than she had before. “I’d had it. I’m telling you, Henrietta, I was not in a good mood last night and couldn’t control my anger. I told him that if he was willing to spend all his time online with his ‘other friends’ but not with me, then he could date them.”
“Good for you,” Henrietta said, allowing her grin to surface.
“I said a few other things,” Olivia blushed, “but the gist of it was the fact that we were no longer a couple.”
“And how do you feel now?”
“I was doing really well last night. I think the anger was still fueling me, you know? But then I came in this morning and it hit me: I broke up with my boyfriend and I’m in an unfamiliar town. I started to wonder if I’d made a huge mistake, either moving out here or breaking up with Nelson.”
She dropped her head into her hands and let out a long sigh.
“Oh, honey,” Henrietta said, patting her back, “don’t think for a moment that your move out here was the wrong choice. You’ve had such a wonderful impact on my life as well as my shop, and I think when you’ve taken a bit to calm down, you’ll see that you have a lot here. More than just a failed relationship.”
She nodded, wiping under her eyes. “I think you’re right. I just think it all hit me at once. What do I do now?”
“I think the first step is not to do anything crazy. You’ve got to allow yourself a few days to adjust. Personally, I think you did the right thing. I know you cared for Nelson, but I think he wanted you to be what he needed more than he was what you needed.”
“Thank you for putting it that way,” she said, nodding. “I think I’m beginning to see that.”
“Yes, and I wager you’ll see more, the further out you get from close proximity. But just remember, time does help the healing process. Don’t make any rash decisions while you’re still healing.”
She nodded, sniffing again. “I’ll try. I think…” She breathed in a deep sigh. “I just think that it was a bit of a shock—even though I was the one to break it off. Especially with Valentine’s Day around the corner. I’m not one to buy so much into all of that, but I can’t help but feel like this will be the worst Valentine’s Day ever.”
“I’m sorry, dear,” Henrietta said, sympathizing with her. She had spent many a Valentine’s Day as a single woman. “But I will say that some Valentine’s Days are more difficult than others. Over the course of my years, I’ve spent many with girlfriends enjoying drinks and desserts, and others wallowing in self-pity—though those were more when I was younger. It’s all in how you perceive the day, honestly. This one may be a bit sourer, but there will be happier ones in the future.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so. You are young, intelligent, and pretty. You’ll find there are other, much more suited men for you.”
“I don’t know that I’ll be ready to think about that for a long time coming,” she admitted.
“Perhaps not, but I’ve known women to get out of a less than desirable relationship, only to find ‘the one,’ as some say, not soon after.”
Henrietta wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a glint of hope in the young woman’s eyes and hoped that would come true for her, as it had for some of her friends.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Henrietta,” Olivia said, grasping her hand with a grateful shake. “I’m sorry to be crying all over you in your place of business.”
“Nonsense,” Henrietta said, returning the squeeze. “You are a friend, even as you are my employee. Besides, personal things affect us all. I’m glad you feel the ability to share with me even as you are hurting.”
She stood and they hugged, Henrietta feeling a
s if they’d taken another step in their friendship.
“Back to work,” Olivia said with a forced smile.
“Only if you’re ready.”
“I am. I need something to take my mind off of…everything.
Henrietta understood and left her to go tend to bookkeeping issues in the back room, smiling to herself. She was certainly not happy that Olivia had to go through the painful change of a breakup, but she was happy that Nelson was no longer part of the picture in Olivia’s life. She’d thought him not right for her friend in so many ways, but it was difficult to show someone something they weren’t ready to see. Thankfully, everything had revealed itself in the right time.
The paper bag in Henrietta’s hand crinkled as she smashed it between her arm and her side to open the door to the Gershwin Private Investigators office.
“Hello?” she called out when she didn’t see Scott at his usual desk.
“Back here,” came Ralph’s muffled reply.
She moved past the empty desk that Scott usually occupied and came to Ralph’s office. The door was partially open, and she pushed it with her elbow to see the two men sitting across from one another with a game of Battleship between.
“Well, good to see that you’ve got your priorities.”
Scott laughed. “Hey, you know what time it is?”
“Barely five,” she said with a pointed look.
“Give us a break,” Ralph said. “We’ve been working since six this morning.”
“If by working, you mean having breakfast with your former police buddies, I don’t know that that counts.”
He grinned, and Scott looked pointedly at the bag she carried.
“Yes, I brought dinner,” she said in reply to his look.
“Yes! I’m starving.” She handed over the bag to Scott and took the other seat.
They chatted about their uneventful days and soon, once Scott had finished his hamburger, he left them to go back to work at his desk.
“Are you working him too hard?” she asked Ralph.
“You were just giving us a hard time,” he pointed out.
“Mostly just you,” she said with a smile.
“Ah, the double standard. But no, he took some time off this afternoon and came back to work later. He says he likes to work into the night, since there’s not much else to do in town.”
“I suppose that must be hard for someone his age.” She thought—not for the first time—about how Olivia was now single. Granted, the breakup was too new, but she’d seen something between them. Nothing inappropriate or that crossed any line, since Olivia had been dating Nelson at the time, but more like a connection she couldn’t ignore.
She was still thinking about this when Scott popped his head back in.
“Scott are you seeing anyone?” she blurted.
The tips of his ears turned red and he stammered out a no.
“Henrietta,” Ralph said, using her full name, which caused her to shoot him a curious glance.
“I was just—”
“Well, don’t just.”
She held up her hands in a plea of innocence. “I just know that it must be challenging to meet people of quality here in town without much…social activity. Why, I was just talking with Olivia today—”
“Livi?” Scott asked.
“Yes,” Henrietta said with a smile at his familiar tone. “And the poor thing just broke up with Nelson last night.”
She was pleased to see the utter shock on Scott’s face and wondered if there wasn’t a trace of hopefulness there, too.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I was thinking, when the time is right of course, how I could encourage her to meet new people.”
“Of course, you were,” Ralph said, rolling his eyes.
“I care for her,” Henrietta said, meeting Ralph’s gaze with a hard one of her own. “I want to see her taken care of and having thriving friendships.”
“Let me guess, you want Scott to show her around?”
Scott’s blush deepened, but Henrietta pretended to ignore it. “I just think, since they are already friends, it would be easier that way. She just needs to know there are people here who care about her.”
“I-I’d be happy to.” Scott spoke almost too quickly, and Henrietta had to temper her smile.
“That is so kind of you, Scott. Actually—”
“That’s enough of that. Did you need something, son?” Ralph asked, cutting off Henrietta completely.
“I…oh yeah, I’m working on tracing that William Cone guy, and think I got a hit on his credit card.”
Henrietta’s mind was immediately brought back to their case, and her aspirations for both Scott and Olivia were put on hold. Though it was a subject she fully intended to come back to.
“Where?” Ralph demanded
“I’ll show you.”
They all went into the front room and around to get a good view at Scott’s screens. Even though he worked in the open, bullpen-style work space of the front room, he’d specifically positioned his screens so that no windows were behind him and no one, unless they were in his space, could see them.
Henrietta and Ralph crowded behind him, awkwardly pushed up against the wall as Scott’s fingers flew across the screens.
“This is his credit card information.”
“Most of those purchases were a week ago,” Ralph observed.
“Yes, but here,” he pointed at the last one he’d highlighted with yellow. “That was just a few hours ago.”
“Hours?”
“Well, he hasn’t made a purchase since then, or else I’d have it here. If he were to make one as we were watching, then maybe you could apprehend him, but this is more of a guide to tell you his whereabouts.”
“He’s still in town,” Henrietta observed.
“Yes.”
“But if he’s still in town,” she continued, “where is he? I’m assuming the police have staked out his home, so he’s not there. He’s got to be somewhere else.”
“Yes,” Ralph agreed. “And the question after that is, what’s he going to do next?”
“Are we saying we think he killed his wife?” Scott asked.
“My contacts have said that Deborah Cone’s death was foul play, but they weren’t able to tell me who the suspects were.” Ralph rubbed his jaw.
“It stands to reason that her husband would be a likely suspect. Not only are relatives often considered first suspects, but he was also a controlling man, and she was having an affair—emotional or otherwise—with another man who, consequently, is dead too.”
Scott shuddered. “This just got deeper.”
“It did. There’s no way to pinpoint him, Scott?” Ralph asked.
“I did try tracking his phone, but I think he left it behind. It’s pinged off the towers that are nearest his house.”
“Another one who’s watched too many crime shows,” Ralph said.
“And yet it’s worked for him,” Henrietta observed.
“Bah.”
Ralph’s phone rang in that moment, and he pulled it out. “Amelia,” he explained before he answered.
“What?” he said the next moment.
Henrietta didn’t like the look of concern that washed over his features.
“Right. Okay. We’ll be right over.” He closed his phone, his expression heavy, and turned to Henrietta. “That was Amelia. She says the lighthouse is on fire.”
12
The flames rose up into the air like a torch lighting up the night sky. Yellow and orange blazed before them as Ralph parked in the gravel parking lot and came up to the police line, where they saw Amelia standing with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
A fire truck with flashing lights stood blocking off most of the lighthouse from view, and firemen scurried back and forth, doing what they could to put out the flames.
Henrietta felt sorry to the core of her being at the sight of a historic monument being destroyed before their eyes. “This is awful.”
“It is,” Ralph sympathized. “I can’t believe that it was an accident.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” she admitted.
“William?” Ralph suggested.
“It makes the most logical sense—though I don’t know why. Not exactly. What does he gain? Was there evidence in the lighthouse that could convict him? At the point before his wife was killed, it appeared he’d gotten away with murder. This is assuming it was him who killed Gerald.”
“Right. Well,” they drew near to Amelia, “we’ll see what happened, and then go from there.”
Amelia turned as they were drawing near and came up to them. Tears streaked her soot-covered face, and she looked as if she were about to fall asleep standing up.
“Oh, dear, are you all right?” Henrietta asked.
Sniffing, she wiped a finger under eyes. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”
“Of course.”
“I’m glad you called us,” Ralph said.
“I couldn’t think of who else to call. First my father, now his lighthouse. Why?”
“That’s what we’re wondering,” Henrietta agreed.
“Want to sit down?” Ralph asked.
“Sure.” She followed them to a bench on the other side of the firetruck. Henrietta had a feeling Amelia wouldn’t be able to leave the scene for a time, waiting to see what happened to the lighthouse, and now was as good a time as any to gain any theories she may have about the lighthouse and her father’s involvement with another man’s wife.
Amelia’s gaze traveled back to the lighthouse and stayed there for a time before she seemed to be pulled from her haze, if only a little, to look back at them.
“My father was working on a secret project,” she started. Henrietta’s ears pricked at this. “He wanted to gain historic notoriety for the lighthouse.”
Henrietta’s hopes sank a little, as she knew the information already, but she didn’t say anything. There was a possibility that Amelia knew more than she did.
Lights Out at the Lighthouse Page 8
