Dressed in yoga pants and an oversized sweater, cup of chamomile tea in hand, Olivia booted up her computer and drafted an email to Claire Montreaux: Claire, I’m looking to pick up some freelance work and am wondering if you have any you’d be interested in throwing my way? Even if you don’t have any work, we could meet for lunch. I’d like to hear how things are going. Olivia hit send before she could change her mind. She sipped her tea, and thought about Brian, about how she missed him, especially now that she knew their feelings were mutual. What was stopping them from being together? Nothing. Not one thing.
Olivia got up to prepare dinner. She chopped veggies and put a salad together. As she moved to the kitchen sink to rinse her teacup, she saw Brian’s car pulling up. When he got out of the car and met her eyes, any doubts Olivia had about their feelings for each other vanished. She opened the front door. Their eyes locked and everything Olivia needed to know about Brian and his feelings for her were clear. Without speaking, she took his hand and led him to her bed.
***
Later, when they were lying in each other’s arms, Brian said, “I’m sorry, Olivia, for not communicating with you like an adult. I should have told you how I was feeling ages ago.”
“I should be apologizing to you,” she said. “I was an idiot to push you away. I regret it every day.”
Brian turned on his side and faced Olivia. He touched her cheek and ran his fingers over her lips. “What happened to us?”
“Grief and betrayal.” Olivia didn’t hesitate. “I pulled away from you because you are still in love with your wife. You pulled away from me because you’re not ready for a relationship.”
“I admit to still holding Maureen in my heart, Olivia. I always will. But I’m finding there’s room there for you. I’ve missed you. Being here with you, knowing you’ve got my back – had my back – especially now, means the world.”
A flood of unchecked emotion washed over Olivia. She swallowed the lump in her throat and said, “I feel the same.”
Brian pulled her close. “I know.”
Chapter 31
Ebby
Tuesday, January 13
By unspoken agreement, Ebby and Felicity had been lying low together, not discussing the situation at hand, and spending most of their time putting the finishing touches on Ebby’s cookbook. He’d sent it to his agent on Monday, and she had gotten back to him after two hours with a handful of minor changes for him to make before she started shopping it. “I’ve got three publishers interested, Ebby. I’m going to sell this book.” Under normal circumstances, the idea of people around the country – maybe even around the world – cooking the food he loved would have filled Ebby with joy. But the question of who murdered his mother, and his desire to remember what he had witnessed, still consumed him.
It had been difficult, but somehow he had managed to refrain from cross-examining Felicity about the night of his mother’s murder. Dr. Jeffers’ suggestion that he just let it go wasn’t terribly helpful. She had suggested hypnosis, but when Ebby had visibly tensed, she had quickly dropped the subject. There was nothing else to be done, at least on Ebby’s part. He and Brian Vickery would meet after the dismissal came through to discuss a plan of action. Ebby would find out who killed his mother. He’d never give up.
Meanwhile, he and Felicity had fallen into a quiet comfortable routine, made even sweeter to Ebby’s mind now he knew that Felicity was his half-sister. This newfound knowledge was the one bright light that came out of this horrid ordeal.
He rolled out the choux he would use for the batch of chocolate eclairs he was making, enjoying the comfortable tapping sound of rain on the windows. Cooking was his therapy. Not only had he filled Felicity’s freezer and fridge, he had taken to baking for Felicity’s neighbors as well, and Olivia, who had all accepted the food with surprise.
He moved into the living room, reached his hands over his head and took a deep breath, slowly bending forward to stretch his back. Through the door he saw Felicity sitting on her bed, sketching some flowers, taking instruction from of a how-to book of botanical drawings.
When the doorbell rang, Ebby said, “I need to deal with this pastry, can you get it?”
“Sure,” Felicity responded.
They were both surprised to find Fiona and Elodie standing outside, Elodie holding a houseplant, and Fiona holding a bottle of Perrier-Jouët.
“We’ve come to see you both,” said Elodie, always the master of the obvious, as she stepped into the room. She set the houseplant on the bench near the front door. “We’re so relieved that you’ve been cleared, dear.”
“Olivia took a chance going straight to the DA.” Not wanting to worry his aging aunts, Ebby hadn’t given them the details of the missing discovery and that Fiona’s records had given Olivia something to approach the DA with. Now, he kept his answer short and concise. He didn’t have any interest in a play-by-play recap of the situation. “Thanks to the records Fiona kept, we had evidence to prove my innocence.” Fiona grabbed onto the back of the sofa, just as Elodie wrapped her arms around Ebby and kissed him on both cheeks. Once she was finished with him, she moved on to Felicity, pulling her close and holding her tight. “I’m so sorry, Felicity. I’ve always known you were my niece. I should have spoken up on your behalf. Fiona and I are both very sorry. Can you ever forgive us?”
“Oh, Elodie,” Felicity said, her voice breaking with emotion. “Fiona, there’s nothing to forgive.”
Elodie and Felicity sat down on the couch, while Fiona followed Ebby into the kitchen and put the champagne in the refrigerator.
“Should I get glasses?” Ebby asked.
“No,” Fiona said. “We can’t stay long. We need to talk to both of you. You two need to be aware of what’s been going on at the house.”
“I want to make something clear. Neither Felicity nor I will ever step foot in our family home again. Melinda has been horrible to Felicity. It’s time for me to leave my childhood home and those memories behind. Time for me to turn my back on the past and face the future. I’ll be glad to see it sold.”
“I know, dear.” Fiona patted Ebby’s arm. “You bore witness to something horrible there. Elodie has agreed to come and live with me at the beach. You’re doing the right thing.”
“Should I make tea?” Ebby noticed Fiona’s coloring was off. She’d lost enough weight to make her cheekbones even more prominent than usual. Ebby wondered about her health. “Aunt Fi, are you okay? You look pale.”
“Fine, love. Just old. And tired. Let’s sit in the living room. Elodie and I need to talk to both of you.”
Ebby had always loved and admired his aunts. As he watched them today, he couldn’t help but worry about how much they’d aged, how frail they looked. If he hadn’t asked Olivia Sinclair to help him find out who murdered his mother, they wouldn’t be in this situation. Should he have tried to deal with the nightmares and flashbacks on his own? Funny. He’d been so focused on his arrest and legal issues that he hadn’t had a flashback of the murder or a nightmare since he’d moved into Felicity’s apartment.
“We just came to tell you that Mark has been questioned by the police. He’s in some serious financial trouble,” Fiona said.
“He’s in a foul mood,” Elodie said. “And don’t look at me like that, Fi. He’s been bullying both of us.” She looked at Ebby. “He wants us to bail him out financially.”
“And we said absolutely not,” Fiona said. “Mark’s had everything handed to him. He’s an entitled fool, who’s made his bed.”
“He’s family,” Elodie said, her cheeks flushed.
“We are not going to bail him out,” Fiona said with finality. “Elodie, dear, please. Give it a rest. We just wanted you to be aware of the situation. Mark is being investigated for money laundering and a host of other financial crimes. He in all likelihood will be arrested. We wanted you both to be prepared.”
“What about Melinda?” Felicity asked. “Is she okay?”
“No,” Fiona sa
id. “She’s in a foul mood too.”
“I feel guilty for quitting and running out on her,” Felicity said.
Elodie squeezed Felicity’s hand. “Don’t. She was horrid to you all these years. You owe her nothing.”
“I know,” Felicity said. “But I still feel sorry for her.”
“We should go,” Fiona said.
Elodie rose and put an arm around her sister. “Lean on me, sis.”
Once the aunts were gone, Ebby and Felicity sat on the couch, sipping their tea.
“I should have told them that I’m still looking for my mother’s murderer,” Ebby said.
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Felicity said. “They’ll find out soon enough.”
Chapter 32
Brian
Thursday, January 15
Brian entered the last of his time into his billing software and shut down his computer. His PI business was growing at a solid pace. He had a handful of good corporate clients, who needed employee background checks and other work of that nature. Today, he’d caught up by spending the afternoon writing status-update emails to the clients he had been neglecting since Ebby had hired them. He’d been jumpy all day, plagued by worry about his upcoming date with Leanne. There were a hundred ways it could go south. To make matters worse, he was worried about Olivia and their involvement with the Engstroms. There was something about that family that didn’t pass the smell test, as far as Brian was concerned. He was sure one of them had committed a perfect murder.
Brian grabbed his keys and was ready to walk out the door, when his mobile rang. Rathman.
“Hey, Brian. Are you at the office?”
“Just getting ready to leave. What’s up?”
“We have a situation.”
What now? Brian sat back down at his desk.
“Leanne’s been watching you. Her car was parked outside Olivia’s house last night. If she thinks you’re in a relationship with Olivia, she’s hardly going to believe she’s making you fall for her.”
“Does that matter?” Brian asked.
“I think so. She wants something from you, something more than your wife’s identity. She’s already got that. Why stick around? She’s grooming you, probably for marriage, maybe access to your bank accounts. Who knows? In any event, if she knows you’re romantically involved with Olivia, she could get suspicious of your interest in her. Detective Summerville’s thinking maybe we should call off the dinner Saturday night, and he should arrest her before she goes on the run.”
“Let me think for a minute.” Brian wanted Leanne convicted, and he needed to play a role in the process as a form of penance for his own stupidity. “I think I can fix this,” he said, thinking fast. “I’ll call Leanne right now and tell her that Olivia’s been harassed by the husband of an old client, and that I’m staying with her until a restraining order is in place.”
“Do you think you can pull that off?”
“I’ll consider it a dress rehearsal for Saturday.”
“Call me back.” Rathman hung up.
Brian took a moment to collect himself. His mobile flashed with a text from Olivia, which he ignored, keeping his focus on Leanne. She answered on the first ring.
“Hello, beautiful,” Brian said.
“Brian. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. Thought you were busy with work,” Leanne said.
“I am. Just making sure we’re still on for Saturday night. I’ve had a brutal week, and I’m looking forward to seeing you.”
“Me too. What are you up to?”
“Well, I have a situation. Olivia’s being harassed by a rather aggressive husband of an ex-client. I told her I’d stay with her until the restraining order is in place. It’s taking longer than it should because we can’t find him to serve him the paperwork. Anyway, long story. But if they don’t find him by Saturday night, maybe we could just have dinner at Olivia’s house? It will be the three of us, but I want to see you,” Brian lied easily.
“What does Olivia say?” Leanne asked.
“She’ll be glad to have us. I think the whole situation has her a little on edge. I know it’s not the romantic evening we planned, but at least we can see each other. We can do our dinner for two as soon as we get this guy served with paperwork.”
“Okay,” Leanne said. “Tell Olivia thanks. Can you text me her address?”
“Will do,” Brian said, once again impressed by how well Leanne lied.
On Saturday morning, he’d call Leanne and tell her the man had been served, the restraining order was in place, and dinner would take place as originally planned.
“Are you at work?”
Knowing that Leanne could very well be parked somewhere watching him, Brian said, “Just wrapping up at the office. I am behind on paperwork. Hope to finish up tonight.”
“Okay, hon. Don’t work too hard.”
“I’ll let you know about Saturday,” Brian said. Once they hung up, he sent a text to Rathman. All went well. Saturday is a go. The minute he sent the text, Rathman called. Brian declined the call, grabbed the bag that held his laptop, and headed to Olivia’s.
Chapter 33
Olivia
Thursday, January 15
Since Ebby’s case was wrapped up and Olivia didn’t have anything pressing at the office, she opted to spend the day cooking before she sat down at the computer to search for a house to rent for a couple of months in Tahoe. She hadn’t told Denny of her plans to visit yet, but as she searched for houses and thought of the logistics, the idea of getting away became more and more appealing.
She heard the front door open and Brian’s voice. “Liv?”
“In here.” She stood up and said, “I’ve made soup for dinner. And I have an idea—”
Brian wasn’t paying any attention to her. He’d moved into the kitchen and closed the curtains. After that, he moved around Olivia’s living room, shutting the curtains over the large window.
“What’s going on?”
“We need to talk,” he said.
Olivia followed Brian around the house, watching as he double-checked all the doors and windows, and pulled the curtains. After he had cocooned them in, they wound up back in the kitchen. Olivia poured them each a glass of wine. “It’s Leanne, isn’t it?”
“Rathman called. They have a tracking device on her car. She’s been watching you, watching us.”
“Which means she knows you’re staying here?”
“I can’t believe I didn’t think about that. I’ve put you in potential danger and made a tactical error that could have blown the entire operation.” Brian swallowed his wine.
“You don’t have to go through with this,” Olivia said. “Can’t the detectives from Minnesota just arrest Leanne now?”
“Rathman suggested that. But I want to sit across from that bitch and let her know that I know what she’s done. She murdered a man. I want – no, I need – to get her to confess and see her led away in handcuffs.” He looked at Olivia with tired eyes. “I called Leanne and told her you were being harassed by the husband of an old client, and that I agreed to stay with you until the restraining order is in place.”
“Did she buy that?”
“Think so.”
After spending decades as a homicide detective with the San Francisco Police Department, Olivia imagined how difficult it must be for Brian to admit he had been sucker punched by an experienced con woman. Even though he wasn’t an ego-driven man, his self-esteem surely had taken a hit. If Olivia were in Brian’s position, she would be beating herself with an emotional cudgel.
Olivia refilled their glasses and raised hers in a toast, “Better days.”
“Better days,” Brian said. “Whatever is in that pot smells delicious.”
“Can you tell me what the plan is for Leanne?”
“I’m taking Leanne on a romantic dinner, where I will charm her and get her to confess.”
“How are you going to do that?” Olivia stirred the butternut squash soup.
***
Later than evening, Brian and Olivia were sitting by the fire. Brian was reading the newspaper, while Olivia was continuing her search for a vacation rental in Tahoe. “How are you able to act normal when you’re around Leanne?”
“It’s a challenge,” Brian said. “She’s smart and probably a little suspicious.”
Olivia shook her head. “Does she try to kiss you and be intimate with you?”
Brian hesitated. “Yes. And the only way I can get through it is to pretend I’m with you.”
“Oh, Brian,” Olivia said.
“I know. It’s a mess.”
Olivia’s ringing cell phone interrupted their sweet intimacy.
“It’s Vonnie Wilson,” she said answering the phone and putting the call on speaker. “Hey, Vonnie. Are you still in Hong Kong?”
“I am. Won’t be home for another week or so. But I found something out that I thought you might find a bit interesting. Is this a good time?”
“It is. I’m here with my business partner, Brian Vickery. You’re on speaker.”
“Thanks. Hey, Brian. Nice to meet you,” Vonnie said.
“Hello,” Brian said.
“I was at a dinner last night and just happened to be seated next to a man named Cary Carlton. Very charming. Widowed. Has a son who plays for the Vienna Philharmonic. Cary has a rare coin shop in Palo Alto. Or he used to. He’s recently retired and his son has taken over the business. On a whim, I told him a little bit about your situation with the Engstroms. I didn’t go into detail, but I asked him if he had heard about the 1984 murder and alleged theft of a quantity of gold sovereigns. These stories tend to become legend among collectors. I call it the buried treasure syndrome. Once a collector gets wind of the theft of a cache of anything, they become obsessed with chasing it down.
The Witness Page 20
