Jasmine and Jealousy

by London Lovett

  * * *

  Sincerely,

  Bertram J. Hawksworth

  I read the note three times, and by the end of the third read-through I was doing a little dance around the room. "I was right. I was right," I sang as I twirled around enough times to make myself dizzy. I carefully folded the parchment and slipped it into my pocket to make sure it didn't get wet. Up until now, I'd left everything, the love notes, the ledger, in the gardener's shed. After all, it belonged to the museum. But no one knew about the note. It surely would not be missed.

  The clouds hung low but the rain was still hesitant. A few heavy drops landed on my head as I energetically skipped to my car. (I couldn't remember the last time I'd indulged in a good skip. Why on earth did we women give up on such a joyful past time once we were grown?)

  I sat in the driver's seat and tapped out a happy tune on my steering wheel. I was beyond giddy. I'd been ferreting out clues and evidence almost since the first day I'd moved to Port Danby, and now I had my answer. Of course, there was no physical evidence or eyewitness accounts to prove that Harvard Price was the culprit. In fact, a man of his wealth and stature more than likely hired someone to do his dirty work. I couldn't imagine Harvard, himself, walking into the manor to shoot down an entire family. He probably had plenty of contacts in the underbelly of the crime world, people who would gladly commit murder for a lump sum of money. And money was not a problem for Harvard Price because he was stealing from the town coffers.

  I took a few breaths to tamp down the giddiness I was feeling but it didn't help. I was far too excited to make a reasonable phone call. It would be hard but I'd wait until I saw Briggs in person to tell him what I'd uncovered. That way I could show him Bertram's damning note.

  "Woo hoo!" I cheered as I started the car and headed down the hill.

  Chapter 26

  I was still floating on a cloud of euphoria as I walked inside the house. Even the animals knew something was up when I drifted around as if I was dancing in a ballroom. Nevermore, being a cat and, thus, incredibly clever, decided to try for a second dinner. He joined me in my impromptu dance by circling my heels. He added in a nice tail swish and purr for good measure. I didn't want to shatter his self-confidence (or was that possible with a cat?) and I was in a good enough mood that I walked energetically to the cupboard and pulled out his bag of kibble. He trotted to his bowl and waited patiently for his much earned second dinner.

  Not to be out-spoiled, Kingston did a noisy shuffle across his perch. I plucked another egg out of the refrigerator. "You two get an extra treat because your mommy is extra brilliant," I cooed to the pets as they busily indulged themselves.

  My phone beeped as I headed back to the kitchen for my own treat. I stopped and glanced at the text. It was from Lola. It seemed she had finally decided to break her silence.

  "So . . . this is happening in my front yard right now," she wrote. The image she sent was taking its time downloading. I considered what things could possibly be happening in her front yard as I grabbed a box of cookies from the cupboard. A squirrel fight? A pair of seagulls fighting over a discarded bag of chips? A neighbor's dog doing its business on Lola's front lawn?

  It would be just like Lola to finally break the ice with something silly.

  I glanced at the phone. The image had finished downloading, but after cataloguing the possibilities, I was in no hurry to see it. I plucked out a cookie and nibbled it, savoring the sweetness of the cookie and the whole afternoon in general. I plodded across to the counter and picked up my phone.

  It was absolutely not two squirrels in a tussle. The remainder of the cookie slipped from my fingers as I clutched the phone with two hands to make sure I was seeing the image clearly. Ryder was standing on Lola's front walkway holding a big sign, beautifully painted, with the words Marry Me. A second photo downloaded. Ryder had cast the sign aside, and he was down on one knee!

  For the third time that afternoon, I found myself in a solo dance. Although, this time it was more of a jump around in circles while waving my hands in the air. I added in a nice little chirpy scream, then caught my breath and dialed my friend.

  Lola answered breathlessly. "Get over here!"

  "On my way!" I grabbed my keys and raced out the door. My animals were now solidly thinking that I'd lost my mind.

  I was in such a state of delirium, I hardly remembered driving down Myrtle Place to Lola's house. Before I turned the corner to Lola's street, it occurred to me, in a flash of worry, that she turned him down, but I'd fretted for nothing. Lola and Ryder were standing on her front walkway in a deep embrace.

  My car had hardly settled to a full stop before I jumped out. My squealing was only outdone by Lola's. Her left hand was flopping in front of her. The sparkle of a diamond caught my eye, but I didn't have time to admire it. Ryder stood by as Lola and I hugged and jumped around in a circle, ushering shrieks of delight with each bounce. We released each other long enough for me to give Ryder a congratulatory hug, then Lola and I resumed our dance.

  By now, several neighbors had come to windows to find out what was happening in Lola's front yard. We decided to move the celebration inside.

  Late Bloomer looked up from his pillow but quickly realized it was just ridiculous humans making unnecessary noise. He dropped his big head back down with a sigh.

  Lola clapped once. "We need to drink some champagne."

  "Do you have any?" I asked.

  Lola's shoulders sank. "No. I've got some old stuff that my mom and dad were drinking on their last visit but it was yucky."

  "Your mom and dad," I said. "Have you told them?"

  Ryder laughed. "Uh, I don't think she's had time between creating a sequential photo essay of the proposal and screaming with you."

  Lola waved off the suggestion. "It's too late in Italy right now anyhow. It can wait till morning." She scurried into her kitchen. "I've got some lemon-lime soda. It's cold and bubbly and the best I can do on short notice."

  I gave Ryder another hug. "You sneaky devil, you. Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I almost did. Yesterday morning you came into the shop and I was putting the ring into my backpack. I'd just picked it up at the jewelers. But I thought Lola would be upset if you knew before her."

  "Good thinking."

  I could smell the soda before Lola walked into the room with a tray of glasses. "The great thing is I already know a very good florist," she chirped happily. Her mood change from the previous days was dramatic. "Parson's Florist over in Chesterton," she said glibly.

  "Very funny." I took the soda from her hand.

  We stood in a circle with our glasses. "To Lola and Ryder, may they be happy forever," I said.

  "Here, here." We clinked the glasses together for a toast.

  "Which rock 'n' roll t-shirt will you wear for the walk down the aisle?" I teased. (Apparently I'd forgotten she wasn't easy to tease.)

  She tapped her chin. "Maybe a dressmaker could incorporate my Guns N' Roses t-shirt into a bodice."

  We burst into laughter. It seemed like it was years ago, the sour moods and drama from the past few days. I was so happy for both of them, then it hit me—I might lose both of them when Ryder took off for another adventure.

  I lowered my glass. "Not to be a selfish party pooper." I turned to Ryder. "Does this mean you'll be stealing away my best friend when you go off gallivanting around the world on your horticulture expedition?"

  Lola and Ryder looked at each other and smiled.

  "After buying a car and then taking off to the Amazon, my savings account is depleted. It'll be a few years before I can even start thinking about that trip. So, it looks as if you're stuck with both of us for awhile."

  "Thank goodness." I threw an arm around each of them for a group hug. "Now, let's sit down and start planning this thing."

  "Already?" Ryder asked. "We're planning on next fall because that's our favorite season. That's a good year away."

  Lola and I looked at each other with alarmed exp
ressions. "Oh my gosh," she said. "You're right. I'll get a notebook. We need to start brainstorming ideas. We don't have much time." She stopped her progress toward a notebook and turned back around to me. "You'll be my maid of honor, right?"

  We both threw our arms up and around each other and performed another high-pitched circle dance. "Of course I will," I added in between the shrieks.

  Ryder stood outside the circle. "I'm starting to feel a little like a third wheel."

  We opened our arms and let him join in our circle. It had been quite the afternoon.

  Chapter 27

  I hummed happily as I trotted up the front steps to Briggs' house. He had texted that he was on his way with the pizza. I let myself in and was greeted by an exuberant Bear.

  We hugged and snuggled a second, then Bear stopped and looked pointedly up at the hook holding his leash.

  "You're so subtle." I plucked the leash off the hook. Bear did a sort of rocking horse dance back and forth on front and back legs for a few seconds. I waited for him to finish his routine before snapping on the leash.

  Just a few hours earlier (seemed like an eternity ago with all that had happened) the clouds hung low and angry over the town. A few bouts of rain and some good gusts of wind, and the stormy clouds had coasted out to sea. The rain had left behind that pungent smell, or at least pungent to my nose, of plants and grass, dusty from days of no rain. You could almost hear them all drinking up the rain from the soil.

  Bear jutted his head forward, stretching my arm to capacity, and trotted along the sidewalk turning his nose side to side to get whiffs of the moisture laden air. "I know how you feel, big guy. The rain makes everything smell ten times stronger." I'd always figured that my sense of smell was closer to that of a dog's than a human's. And it seemed we both smelled pizza because our heads snapped around in unison.

  The windows on Briggs' car were rolled down as he pulled into his driveway. Creedence Clearwater Revival blasted through the open window, followed closely by the delicious aromas of oregano and garlic.

  Bear turned on a dime and pounced on giant paws back to the house. My mood was still such that it called for another bout of skipping. Briggs stopped to watch with that crooked smile I loved.

  "You two are in a good mood." He reached into his passenger seat and emerged with a pizza box. "Did you track down a squirrel or something?"

  Bear's nose shot up in the air. It wriggled and scrunched and rotated to grasp every bit of the pizza smell.

  I laughed. "How funny. I just noticed that Bear does the same nose contortions as me when I'm trying to catch a scent."

  Briggs chuckled. "You look much cuter doing it."

  "Not too sure about that. He has cuteness down to an art."

  Bear and I led the way up the steps and Briggs followed with the pizza. "There is usually a lot of spring in your step," he said from behind. "But tonight that spring is springier than usual."

  I peered back over my shoulder at him. "That's because I have two huge, phenomenal, gigantic pieces of news." I faced forward and opened the door. I unhooked Bear's leash and hung it up. Bear went straight to his water bowl as if we'd journeyed for hours rather than just a few blocks.

  Briggs carried the pizza into his tiny kitchen and pulled two plates down from the cupboard. I grabbed two glasses. "I just had a glass of lemon-lime soda so I'm having water. What about you?"

  "Ice water too. I drank my cola quota today. Since when do you drink lemon-lime soda?"

  "It was a stand in for champagne."

  "Champagne? Did I miss a celebration?" Briggs reached in and carefully lifted a slice of pizza out of the box. Cheese stretched from the box to the plate.

  "Ooh yum. Stretchy cheese is a sign of good pizza." I carried the glasses to the table. "Yes, you did miss a celebration, but I'll tell you about it when we're both settled at the table."

  While Briggs carried the pizza to the table, I refilled Bear's food and water bowls.

  "Does this celebration have anything to do with the Rico Sanders case?" he asked.

  My face popped up from the task of pouring food in Bear's bowl. "Why would you ask that? I'm not on the case, remember?"

  His tongue rubbed against the inside of his cheek. "Right." He set the plate on the table. "You don't actually expect me to believe that you are staying clear of the case? Or have you forgotten the photo you sent me?"

  "Of course I haven't forgotten. In my defense, I just accidentally stumbled upon Angel Sanders and her friend. So I guess you could say the case is following me. Speaking of the case, what did Detective Fairchild say about the incriminating photo?"

  "Nothing yet." He was being short, which meant he was hiding something.

  "James, is she still focused on Franki?"

  "Can't say for sure. I'm trying not to step in the middle of it, but if she is still suspecting Franki, I'm going to talk to her. I agree. Franki doesn't deserve the stress or scrutiny. She works so hard. After raising all four of those kids by herself, she deserves a medal of honor and not suspicion."

  I blew him a kiss. "That's the most perfect thing you could have said to top off my highly perfect evening."

  His wry smile appeared. (Another wonderful look on him.) "Guess that's the first right thing I've said in a long time."

  "Nonsense. There's been other things." I shrugged. "Just can't think of them right now." I lifted the pizza slice from the plate. "And you did bring home this delicious pizza."

  We both worked our slices and our napkins for a few quiet moments, then he put his slice down. "Am I going to hear why you were celebrating with lemon-lime soda?"

  I put my pizza down, then wiped my hands and face with a flourish. "You're not going to believe it when I tell you—" The news was trying its hardest to burst from my lips. "Ryder proposed to Lola," I cheered. "Naturally, she said yes." I sat back with a grin that I was sure mimicked the Cheshire Cat, but my elation was instantly deflated by his sullen expression.

  "What's wrong? Isn't it wonderful?"

  "Yeah," he said "Yeah, it's wonderful."

  "Well, that was the most unconvincing performance in the history of the world. I thought you'd be as excited as me."

  Briggs stared down at his pizza, then looked up at me. "I guess I just expected that we would get to the altar before them."

  I smiled. "That's sweet, but, boy, are you men competitive, and if you try to retrospectively toss in a proposal right now over this pizza, I'm going to be thoroughly disillusioned with my amazing boyfriend."

  He left the last few bites of pizza on his plate and leaned back.

  "I'm sorry, James. I wasn't trying to make fun of you. We both decided that we would know when the time is right. We're just both so busy with our jobs—"

  "All right, all right, I promise I'm not going to toss out a proposal in the middle of pizza. I'd at least wait until we were eating cheeseburgers. I'm happy for Ryder and Lola." His mood had lightened and I was relieved. He lifted his glass of water for a toast. "May Ryder take lots of vitamins and spend a lot time with a therapist so he can stay strong in his marriage."

  I picked up a package of red pepper flakes and threw it at him. He stared down at the package that had stuck to his shirt. "Huh, that's what this pizza is missing." He proceeded to tear open the packet. "Tell me, how does one toss out a proposal, anyhow?"

  "Not entirely sure." I looked pointedly at him. "But I'll know it when I hear it so be warned."

  "Warning taken. Didn't you tell me you had two huge, phenomenal pieces of news to tell me?"

  I pressed my hand innocently to my chest. "Did I?" I waved that same hand. "It's no big deal. I just solved the Hawksworth murders, that's all."

  Briggs blinked at me for a few seconds, apparently waiting for me to laugh or blurt that I was kidding.

  "Seriously," I said. "I solved it. Mayor Harvard Price killed or hired someone to kill the Hawksworth family because Bertram threatened to reveal Harvard's scandalous secret."

  "You mean the illeg
itimate grandchild? Wouldn't that also hurt Bertram's reputation, considering his part in it all?"

  I coughed on a sip of water. I cleared my throat. "I almost forgot all about that part of the story. That was terrible, of course, mostly for poor Jane and her baby, but there was more. I caught an inkling of it all when I compared two front page photos of Harvard Price sitting pompously at his desk. The ledger Jane, his daughter and the town treasurer, was holding in the first picture looked different than the ledger on his desk in a later photo."

  Briggs sat forward with instant, detective-like comprehension. "Harvard was cooking the books. He was stealing from the town treasury."

  "Exactly. Bertram knew he was keeping two books, a real one where he was skimming off the top and a fake one that made everything seem balanced and right. I assume Jane told Bertram what was happening. She was probably upset with her father for sending her away."

  "Assume?" His brow arched. "So you don't have any actual proof except the two ledgers in two different photos? What if they ran out of room in the first ledger and had to buy a new one?"

  "I suppose that could have happened or . . . Harvard might have been stealing from the town." I pulled the brittle parchment out of my pocket. I started to hand it across, then stopped. "Wait, are your hands greasy? This is my key piece of evidence. I don't want it stained with cheese grease."

  Briggs looked amused as he wiped his hands on his napkin. He held them out and I touched them, checking for grease. "They seem suitable." I handed over the letter. "Here you go. After you read it, I'll tell you how I found it."