by Joanne Fluke
“A much better idea,” Mr. Dimitri agreed. “January third it is.”
The group broke into spontaneous applause, causing Elizabeth to turn quite pink with pleasure. Mr. Dimitri leaned close and lowered his voice. “You’ll be paid for the days you were on leave and you will find a generous bonus, too.”
“Thank you, thank you so much,” Elizabeth said.
And then, much to her surprise, Mr. Dimitri took her hand and kissed it, too. Over his sleek, oiled hair she caught sight of Toni, watching with an expression of shocked disbelief, and she smiled.
“À bientôt,” Mr. Dimitri said.
“À bientôt,” Elizabeth replied, taking Miss Tilley’s elbow and walking out the door. It didn’t feel like walking on stained and spotty concrete, she realized. She felt as if she were walking on a cloud.
* * *
Back at the apartment, they found Lucy putting the finishing touches on the Christmas tree. The origami cranes bobbed on their thread hangers and the little white lights twinkled and Christmas music was playing. “It’s about time you got here!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been frantic with worry.”
“We were stuck in a closet,” Elizabeth said.
“And then we were discovered and Lois locked us out on the terrace,” Miss Tilley added. “She locked Noelle out, too.”
“It was scary. Lois had a gun, and the weather was turning nasty. We could have been stuck out there for hours until somebody noticed us.”
“Chris Kennedy saved us,” Miss Tilley said, seating herself on the futon. “He was on the case all along. They caught Sammie Wong trying to get to Dubai with the jewels.”
“My goodness,” Lucy said, blinking. “That’s quite a tale.”
“It was quite an exciting afternoon,” Miss Tilley said, looking cool and collected with not a hair out of place. “I think I’d like a glass of that sherry now.”
“I got my job back.” Elizabeth reported the fact without any expression. “And a bonus, too.”
“You don’t sound very happy about it,” Lucy observed, opening the bottle.
“I should be, shouldn’t I?” she asked. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. Thanks to Miss T I even got my Christmas vacation.”
“That’s great!” Lucy exclaimed, filling three glasses.
“You’re probably feeling a bit let down after all the excitement,” Miss Tilley speculated, taking the sherry glass from Lucy and tossing back most of the contents in one gulp.
“It’s more than that.” Elizabeth leaned her elbow on the dining table and rested her chin on her hand. “I feel used. Chris Kennedy didn’t really like me, he just wanted to get information from me. And he got me in trouble at work. I was going crazy, worrying about paying the rent. And worse than that, wondering if I’d ever get another job with my reputation ruined.”
Lucy gave her daughter a hug. “Well, all’s well that ends well,” she said, kissing her on the cheek. “Now, it’s after six. What shall we do for dinner? There’s nothing in the house and I was too anxious to go shopping.”
Elizabeth knew that dinner was always at six in the Stone household; her father insisted on it.
Just then the doorbell rang.
“I bet it’s Toni, come to apologize.” Elizabeth opened the door and gasped, finding Chris standing there. He was holding a huge pizza box and an enormous bouquet of long-stemmed pink roses.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Will you forgive me?”
Elizabeth thought about the sleepless night she’d spent, and how she’d worried she would never be able to get another job, but that wasn’t what had really bothered her. It was the hurt she’d felt when Chris didn’t call, when he seemed to lose interest and dropped her. She didn’t want to go through that again, not with this guy, she decided, starting to shut the door in his face.
“Elizabeth,” her mother said, “he’s brought food.” Then Lucy was pushing her aside, taking the pizza and flowers. “I think I smell pepperoni, my favorite,” she said. “Do come in and have some with us. We’re dying to hear all about how you tracked down Sammie Wong.”
Chris didn’t hesitate. He was inside the apartment and casting sad eyes in Elizabeth’s direction. She wasn’t moved, however, despite his contrite expression. It reminded her of the looks Libby, the Labrador back home in Maine, would make when she knew she’d done something wrong, like chewing up a favorite pair of shoes. It didn’t mean she was actually sorry or that she wouldn’t do it again, it was simply a manipulative tactic she used to avoid punishment.
“Put these flowers in water,” her mother said, handing her the bouquet.
Elizabeth left Chris standing awkwardly in the living room with Lucy and Miss Tilley and went into the kitchen to get a vase for the roses. She supposed her mother was right and she shouldn’t let the flowers die of thirst even if she didn’t much like their giver.
When she returned with the vase of flowers she discovered her mother had found the place mats and set the table on the deck, and was opening the pizza box. The rich, spicy aroma filled the air. “Come on, everybody, sit down before it gets cold.”
“Elizabeth,” she instructed, in her bossy mother tone of voice, “I think there’s a bottle of soda in the fridge. Could you get it, please? And some glasses?”
When Elizabeth returned with the soda she discovered the only free seat was opposite Chris, who was waiting politely for the others to serve themselves. She sat down but made a point of not looking at him.
“I assume you were working for the insurance company all along?” Miss Tilley inquired, attacking her piece of pizza with a knife and fork.
“That’s right,” Chris said, finally taking a piece that was loaded with pepperoni. “When Gruber took out the policy I was assigned to keep tabs on the jewels. That’s company policy when somebody insures an exceptionally valuable item. If it’s a painting, we check out the security system, stuff like that. If they’re going to loan it to a museum or something, they have to inform us. It’s the same with jewelry. They have to agree to keep it in a safe that we’ve approved and they have to inform us whenever it’s taken out of the safe. So when Gruber announced this Blingle Bells Ball I went undercover here at the hotel.”
“So you’re not a conservation lawyer after all?” Elizabeth asked, narrowing her eyes.
“I lied to you,” he said, looking miserable. “I didn’t want to but I had to. I was undercover. I couldn’t risk being discovered.”
Elizabeth, expressionless, chewed her pizza.
“When did you begin to suspect Sammie Wong and Lois Feinstein?” Miss Tilley asked.
“Pretty much right away,” Chris replied. “We did background checks on everybody connected with the ball and they stood out like sore thumbs—both had criminal records.”
“You’d think Jonah Gruber would have checked, too,” Lucy said. “After all, he’s supposed to be some sort of computer genius.”
“We informed him and he was going to get rid of them but his wife put up a fuss. Noelle insisted on hiring Layla/Lois, said nobody else would do, and Lois insisted on Sammie Wong for the photos.”
“And the switch took place at the photo shoot,” Miss Tilley said.
“That’s right.” Chris was reaching for a second slice of pizza. “The jewels were stashed in the photo equipment and Elizabeth took an empty case back to the safe.”
“I can’t believe I was that stupid,” Elizabeth said, nibbling on the crust, her favorite part. “I should have checked the case. I just assumed they were inside when Layla locked it.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t question her,” Chris said. “They might have harmed you.” He looked into her eyes and reached across the table, covering her hand with his. “That’s when I was most worried, when you were alone with them in that suite after the photo shoot. I was terrified something would happen to you.”
Elizabeth snatched her hand away. “You could have told me. You played me for a fool. You even made it look like I was invo
lved in the theft.”
“That was for your safety,” Chris explained. “We wanted you out of the way, safe at home. But it had the advantage of creating a smoke screen. As long as Sammie and Lois believed the police thought you and I were the thieves, they figured they’d gotten away with it. Sammie was headed off to Dubai with the jewels, on a private jet to avoid screening, and the New Jersey cops were able to nab him. Case closed.”
“I guess you’re pretty proud of yourself,” Elizabeth said with a scowl.
Miss Tilley gave Lucy a significant look and stood up. “Lucy, dear, let me help you with the dishes.”
“Oh, right,” Lucy said, catching her drift. She picked up her plate and glass and followed Miss Tilley into the tiny kitchen, leaving Elizabeth alone with Chris.
It was warm on the balcony, the moon was rising and the air was fragrant with the sweet scent of Elizabeth’s night-blooming nicotiana.
“Please understand,” Chris pleaded. “I couldn’t risk telling you, telling anybody. I had enough trouble with that friend of yours, that Toni.”
“She was on to you right away,” Elizabeth said. “She knew you were a Kennedy imposter.”
“Imposter! I am a real Kennedy. My dad is Joe Kennedy from Dorchester, proud owner of Kennedy’s Transmission Service.”
For the first time since he’d arrived, Elizabeth smiled.
“Fake! That’s something. Do you know how many Kennedys there are in Massachusetts?” he asked, cracking a grin.
“Quite a lot?”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning across the table and taking her chin in his hand. “And I can’t wait for you to meet the whole family.” Then they were kissing, a hot, spicy, pepperoni-flavored kiss.
When it finally ended, Elizabeth came back for another. “I really, really like pizza,” she said.
“Me, too,” Chris said.
Dear Reader,
“I married him.” No, that was a different book, different author ( Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte). So far we’ve had no weddings in Lucy’s family, apart from Toby and Molly. Elizabeth does seem to have an active love life; her beau in A Christmas Thief, Chris, reappears in French Pastry Murder, when Lucy and Bill visit Elizabeth in Paris, where she works at the upscale Cavendish Hotel, but the sparks eventually fizzle out. Sorry.
It has been a great pleasure writing about Lucy Stone and her family, and I have to confess that Lucy’s story roughly parallels my own. When I wrote the first book in the series, Mistletoe Murder, Zoe hadn’t been born yet and the three older kids were very young, reflecting my own family. Now, more than twenty-five books later, my three kids are all grown and married, and I have five grandkids. Lucy is a bit behind, with only one grandchild, Toby, and Molly’s son, Patrick, but he does seem to keep showing up in the books. A very young Patrick appears in Easter Bunny Murder, and a few years later reappears in Yule Log Murder with his parents, and also his aunt Elizabeth, who has returned to Tinker’s Cove for Christmas. Now in second grade, Patrick has an extended visit with his grandparents in Haunted House Murder.
Lucy and Bill still have two daughters at home: Sara, who is a graduate student at Winchester College studying geology, and Zoe, the youngest, also at Winchester, where she keeps switching majors. The two girls can be difficult, they don’t always get along, and their fluctuating dietary requirements—vegetarian, clean food, vegan—are a trial for Lucy. Sara’s been focused on her degree, but I predict she will soon move to Boston and a job at the Museum of Science, so I think she may finally have time for romance. Zoe, on the other hand, becomes very involved with a computer gamester in Invitation Only Murder (coming out in fall, 2019) but you will have to read the book to find out whether they live happily ever after.
Lucy has also evolved in the series. She’s a lot more sophisticated these days than she was in the beginning. She’s been to Europe three times (French Pastry Murder, English Tea Murder, and British Manor Murder) and has also visited New York, most recently in Silver Anniversary Murder, when she investigates the suicide of the dear friend who was the maid-of-honor at her wedding. She explores the lifestyle of the top one-tenth of one percent when she’s invited to visit the island summer home of a hedge fund billionaire in Invitation Only Murder. But no matter where she is, or who she’s investigating, Lucy is still very much Lucy. She loves her husband, her kids, and her friends Pam, Sue, and Rachel; and she loves her job at the Pennysaver; and she happily attempts to balance home and career. And as long as she’s on the job in Tinker’s Cove, I promise you that no crime will go unsolved in the quaint Maine town where nobody locks their doors. Maybe they should....
I hope you enjoy reading more about my favorite sleuth and her family in the other books in the Lucy Stone Mystery Series.
Sincerely yours,
Leslie Meier
