A Treacherous Treasure

by Leighann Dobbs

  Jane’s cheeks turned crimson. “No one. I was here all night, though.”

  Claire didn’t want to ask who Jane had been about to refer to. Was it Zambuco? That would certainly be an airtight alibi. She could tell by the way Jane was fidgeting and her stiff body posture that she was hiding something, but was she hiding the fact that she’d lied about not being at Mary’s or merely nervous because she didn’t want Claire to know Zambuco had been at her house that night?

  But if Jane really had been here at home, then who had Alice seen at Mari’s door?

  Not wanting to press Jane on that further, Claire decided to change subjects. “Did you know that your dad was a part of the same treasure-hunting club that Elbert was in?”

  Jane’s eyes widened in surprise. Apparently she hadn’t known about the treasure-hunting club … or she was surprised that Claire had found out about it.

  “You know I don’t remember much about my dad.” Jane’s wistful eyes drifted to the window. “I was so young when he died. And you know how teens are so self-absorbed. I’m afraid I never really paid much attention to what was going on in his life.”

  Jane’s phone blared a staccato buzz ringtone, and she glanced down at the table to see the caller ID display. “Oh, it’s Greenbriar Manor. This could be about my mom. I need to take it.”

  “Of course,” Claire said.

  Jane picked up the phone and answered, walking down the hall to take the call in private. The work noises in the kitchen stopped, and Shane poked his head into the room, wiping his hands on a red cloth.

  “Hey, Claire, how’s it going?” he asked.

  “Very well, thanks. How’s the work coming?”

  “Great. Jane’s kept me busy over the winter, what with finishing the basement and redoing the bathroom.”

  Claire’s brows tugged together. “She has?”

  “Yes. In fact, I’m going to admire my handiwork now.” Shane smiled and turned toward the bathroom.

  Claire chewed on her bottom lip. The renovations were more extensive than she even imagined. She knew a good kitchen renovation could cost tens of thousands, and a bathroom couldn’t be far behind. Jane didn’t have the money to afford this … at least she didn’t used to have the money.

  But Claire was convinced there must be some other explanation for her friend coming into money. It didn’t make any sense that it was related to the treasure club of sixty years ago. Why would it just be showing up now? Maybe Jane had taken a second mortgage on the house. Her parents had lived here for long enough that it was certainly paid off by now.

  Claire glanced around the room. Were there any new expensive items? No. The sofa was the old one from Jane’s townhouse, and everything else looked to be either Jane’s or left over from her parents.

  Her eye fell on a box stuffed behind the armchair on the other side of the room, a cardboard box just like the one Jane had been holding at the storage facility.

  Unable to stop herself, Claire scurried over to the box and flipped open the top with her index finger, steeling herself for what she might find inside. She relaxed when she saw there were no old brooches in the box as she had feared. What was in there was paperwork. An old passport, plane ticket stubs, and a journal or ledger of some sort, written in a handwriting that was not Jane’s. The front read Property of Charlie Kuhn.

  Could this be Charlie’s inventory of the metal-detecting equipment? And if it was, would it give them any clues? She couldn’t take the journal. That would be like stealing from Jane.

  Claire leaned back to peer down the hall. Jane was still on the phone, her back turned, her head bowed. Claire whipped out her cell phone. Flipping through the pages quickly, she took as many pictures as she dared. Then she stuffed the ledger back into the box and hurried back to her spot on the sofa.

  Jane returned to the room. “Sorry that took so long. Apparently Mom was upset by some visitors today, and they wanted to know if they could give her a sedative.”

  Claire felt a new wave of guilt. Were she and Dom the visitors that had upset Lila? “Oh, that’s terrible. I hope your mom is okay.”

  “Yes, she’s fine now, thanks. So anyway, what have you been up to? I mean besides the investigation.”

  Claire’s eyes slid over to the box behind the sofa. She didn’t want to sit around making small talk now that she had this extra evidence to investigate.

  “Oh, not much. You know, experimenting with my healthy dessert recipes and all.” Claire looked at her watch. “Will you look at the time? I guess I better be going.”

  Jane’s face registered surprise. “Oh, so soon?”

  “Sorry. I promised Robby I’d make him an apple pie, and I have to get started.”

  Claire cringed at the look of disappointment on Jane’s face. She felt like a heel for lying to her but consoled herself with the fact that it was all to help her.

  “Well, it was nice to see you.” Jane rose and walked Claire to the door. “Let me know if you find anything more on Elbert’s case … or Mari’s.”

  “Right. Will do.” Claire hustled off, hoping that letting Jane know about her progress in the case wouldn’t involve telling her that her father had been a cold-blooded killer.

  16

  On the way to Dom’s, Claire almost drove off the road because she was so busy looking at the pictures of the journal she’d taken on her phone. She peeled into the parking space across from his condo and rushed up his walk, unsurprised at the look of concern that bloomed on his face when he opened the door. She was sure she looked as frazzled as she felt.

  “What’s happened?” Dom asked.

  Claire thrust her phone out toward him. “I found a box at Jane’s. The box she had in the storage unit. There was an old journal inside. I took these pictures.”

  Dom grabbed her elbow and pulled her inside, leading her to the living room and pushing her into an oversized chair. “What was in it?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think it looks like an inventory of some sort. The journal was old, the ink faded to a light blue.” Claire bit her bottom lip. “I’m afraid it’s the journal Charlie used for the detecting equipment, and it might hold information that could give us some insight as to what, exactly, they found in that treasure chest. There’s some entries in the back that look to be coded, and I don’t know how to decipher them.”

  “Let me take a look. I’ll have to get my glasses.” Dom went into the attached dining room and rummaged in the sideboard, pulling out a small pair of half-moon glasses, which he perched on his nose.

  “Tuclueee,” Romeo tweeted happily in his cage.

  “Yes, hopefully there is a clue,” Dom said as he returned to the living room. He sat on the couch opposite Claire and concentrated on the pictures, using his index finger to scroll through slowly.

  Claire took the time to notice her surroundings. Though she’d been in his kitchen many times, this was the first time she’d actually sat in Dom’s living room. She was surprised to find it was tastefully furnished with contemporary furniture in a muted gray microfiber. The coffee and end tables were a black-stained wood, the carpet a medium gray, the walls a lighter tone. The pillows on the couch were arranged perfectly, a fact that did not surprise Claire given Dom’s compulsion to have everything in perfect order.

  On the couch, Dom was now using his finger and thumb to zoom in on the photos. Claire studied his face as he flipped from photo to photo, his brow furrowing deeper with each passing second. Finally he set the phone down and fixed Claire with a serious look.

  “I’m afraid this leaves little doubt that Charlie Kuhn was the silent partner of the treasure-hunting club,” he said.

  “It says that?”

  “Not in so many words, but there are figures in some of the early pages pertaining to the cost of equipment and repair to said equipment.”

  “That’s all?” Claire relaxed into the chair. “That’s a relief. All that indicates is that Charlie Kuhn was the silent partner. Nothing in there proves that he stole
treasure or killed Elbert.”

  “True, but there is something here that makes him suspicious. Toward the end, it’s hard to make out, but there is the name and address of a high-profile collector and antique dealer on the mainland. Then there are expenses listed for a trip, presumably to see the collector.”

  “Then they did find something of value.”

  Dom nodded. “Judging by the figures scrawled on the next page, they found a lot of something. The figures are listed next to serial numbers.”

  “Serial numbers?”

  “I can’t be sure without verifying, but they look like treasury bonds to me.”

  “Wait. Bonds? That explains it! Charlie didn’t have a lot of money sixty years ago because those bonds could’ve taken thirty years to mature.” Claire pressed her lips together. “But they would have matured decades ago, so why is Jane just coming into money now?”

  “When did Charlie pass away?”

  “Oh gosh, it must’ve been fifty years or more …” Claire let her voice trail off as an idea niggled its way to the front of her brain. “What if he never told Jane or her mom about the treasure or the bonds? He may have hidden the bonds away, thinking he would cash them in thirty years later so as not to be associated with the treasure. But he died before he could cash them in. Jane and Lila may have never known he had them.”

  Dom nodded slowly. “That would make sense. Jane came into the money shortly before she put her mother in Greenbriar. Her mother was already failing then, and Jane was probably starting to clean out the house, go through old things. She might have come across the bonds then.”

  “But if this theory is true, it proves that someone was lying about finding treasure,” Claire said.

  “And that Charlie knew about it,” Dom added.

  “Maybe the treasury bonds were bought with some of the treasure money. It will be good to know how much those were worth. Can we look at the serial numbers?”

  “I suppose we could, but do we really need to? It’s evident that Jane has a large sum of extra money. The only question is, did Jane know that money came from the treasure-hunting club and, if she did, did she suspect her father’s involvement in Elbert’s death … and if so, did she take measures to keep that quiet by silencing Mari?”

  Claire’s spirits sank. Dom had a point. “But none of this proves that Charlie had anything to do with Elbert’s death.”

  “True, but if our theory holds true, then Charlie was hiding the fact that he had come into a lot of money. Why would he hide that?”

  “So you think he could’ve found the treasure, possibly with Elbert, and the two of them decided to cut the others out, and then Charlie killed Elbert to have it all to himself.”

  “Either that or they’re all lying about finding treasure. But they really would have no reason to lie unless they wanted to hide something like Elbert’s death.” Dom glanced down at the phone again. “All we can tell from here for sure is that Charlie brought something to the antique dealer over on the mainland. Whatever it was presumably came from the treasure chest. He knew about the treasure.”

  “And the others claimed there was no treasure.”

  “So either they’re lying, or Charlie had something to hide.”

  Claire shook her head. “I refuse to believe Charlie had anything to do with Elbert’s death. He was a gentle man. A good man.”

  “Money makes people do funny things.”

  “This is all theory. We need concrete evidence. We need to take it to the next level and find out more about what the police know. Robby asked for our help and said he’d share information with us, and I think it’s time I give him a call and have him make good on that promise.”

  Claire snatched her phone off the table just as a knock sounded on the door. Fingers poised above the phone screen, she leaned over the arm of her chair to see who it was.

  The side window that ran the length of Dom’s front door didn’t show much. All she could see was a large, bulky figure shuffling from one foot to another. “My word, is that Zambuco?”

  “Well, you did want to talk to the police…” Dom let his voice trail off as he got up to answer the door.

  “Detective Zambuco, what a pleasant surprise. Do come in.” Claire wondered if Zambuco noticed the sarcastic undertone in Dom’s voice.

  Zambuco tripped over the threshold and stumbled into the living room, his eyes narrowing as he noticed Claire. “Fancy seeing you here. You two wouldn’t happen to be investigating the recent murder, would you?”

  “We’re retired, remember?” Dom gestured for him to take a seat in the other chair.

  “You and I both know that doesn’t stop you.” Zambuco sat stiffly, and the room fell silent except for the soft tap-tap-tap of Zambuco’s fingers drumming on the arm of the chair.

  Claire wondered what, exactly, it was that he wanted, but she didn’t speak. She knew it would give her and Dom a psychological advantage to wait it out and let Zambuco speak first. She suppressed a smile when she realized Dom was doing the same. She’d taught him well.

  “I need your help.” Zambuco’s voice was soft, pleading instead of his usual gruff, abrasive tone.

  Claire exchanged a stunned glance with Dom. She’d assumed that Zambuco had discovered that Robby had let them into Mari’s house and was expecting him to read them the riot act. Instead he was here asking for their help. He’d never done that before. Things must be drastically wrong.

  “You’re asking us for help? After you warned us away from the case?” Claire asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” Dom asked.

  Zambuco’s face contorted into a painful-looking grimace. Part of Claire felt sorry for him. The other part found perverse enjoyment in the fact that he was obviously conflicted and in some sort of emotional pain.

  “Come on, you guys have been looking into this case. You must have discovered the same things I have. Things are pointing toward Jane’s father and possibly even Jane,” Zambuco said. “I know Jane would never do anything wrong, but as an officer of the law, I can’t ignore the clues. I have to put the case together based on those. My hands are tied because I can’t go outside the law to find the real truth. And furthermore, the brass is breathing down my neck. They want the suspect in custody today.”

  Claire studied Zambuco. He looked genuinely distraught over the thought of implicating Jane. “You really care for her, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do.”

  Claire hadn’t been a fan of Jane getting involved with Zambuco. Zambuco was annoying, abrasive, and irritating. She thought Jane could do better. And she had been very vocal about her dislike of the man. No wonder Jane hadn’t confided their relationship to her. Claire’s heart twisted. Some friend she was. Her own best friend couldn’t even confide in her because she was so closed minded.

  But now, seeing how upset Zambuco was and the fact that he’d risk his job to come and ask their help … well … it made her wonder if she’d misjudged him. If he cared for Jane this much, then he couldn’t be all bad. And Jane had seemed happier lately. Zambuco had, too. Jane must be having a positive effect on him, as he’d been less annoying. He’d even been dressing better. Perhaps it was time to bury the hatchet and make peace with the romance blossoming between Zambuco and Jane.

  Claire glanced at Dom, who nodded his head ever so slightly.

  “Will you help me? Please?” Zambuco pleaded.

  “Okay, we’ll get you that suspect, and it won’t be Jane. But we need access to what the police know. We’ve been running this blind so far.”

  Zambuco slowly let out a breath. “Thanks. I brought the folders on the case. Let me get them from my car.”

  17

  “Let’s move to the dining room.” Dom thrust his chin in that direction as he rose from his chair. “We’ll have more room to spread out on the table there.”

  Dom removed three of the place settings and stacked them on the sideboard, arranging the edges so they lined up perfectly.

/>   From his perch in the cage, Romeo watched him with bright eyes. “Twchiller!”

  “Yes, my friend, we’re going to catch the killer.” Dom hadn’t been surprised to find out that there was something going on with Zambuco and Jane. He didn’t really care much either way, although he wondered if Zambuco would eventually become part of their breakfast group. He wasn’t too sure he liked that idea, but he couldn’t complain that Zambuco’s relationship with Jane was the impetus in him wanting to share police information with them.

  A sharp knock on the door stole his attention, and he motioned Zambuco in. The detective fumbled noisily with the door latch. Then the door sprang open, and he lurched inside and made his way over to the dining table, where Claire was already seated.

  “I’ll make coffee.” Dom got busy in the kitchen, glancing out into the dining room, where he could see Zambuco lining up manila folders on the table.

  “Twarrogent!” Romeo tweeted.

  Zambuco’s head snapped up to the cage, his eyes narrowed. “Did that bird just say ‘arrogant’?”

  Claire snorted, using her napkin to cover her mouth, and pretend it was a sneeze.

  “Oh no, he’s just tweeting. Sometimes his tweets sound like words, but they’re really not.” Dom put three coffee mugs, sugar, and cream on the table then went back into the kitchen to retrieve a crystal dish with five cannolis placed symmetrically in a circle in the middle.

  They busied themselves with fixing their coffees. Dom and Zambuco each took a cannoli. Claire passed. Apparently the cannoli wasn’t part of her health regimen, Dom thought. Well, that was her bad fortune to miss out on the creamy, sweet pastry.

  “Let’s start with Elbert Daniels.” Claire broke the ice since Dom and Zambuco were busy chewing.

  “I’ve been working off the assumption that the two murders are connected. It’s too much of a coincidence for them not to be,” Zambuco said.

  “Agreed,” Dom mumbled around a mouthful of cannoli.

  Zambuco took another bite, crunching into the middle of the pastry shell. Crumbs dropped onto his tie. He didn’t bother to wipe them off, and Dom resisted the urge to brush them away. Zambuco swallowed loudly and said, “You go first. What have you found out about the murder?”