It Started With A House: Lizzie. Book 1 (The Westport Mysteries)

by Beth Prentice

  “Hello Lizzie, this is Brenda speaking.” Brenda was Scott’s assistant-slash-secretary. With her short blonde hair, silicone implants and regular trips to the Botox clinic, she kept herself pretty well maintained for a woman of her age. Personally, I always thought she resembled a puffer fish after those treatments, but whatever floats your boat really. Each to their own.

  “Hi Brenda, what’s up?” I asked feeling a bit irritable and uneasy. I could feel Riley’s gaze on my back as I walked into the hallway to get a better phone signal.

  “Sorry Lizzie, Scott’s been tied up in a meeting. He’s going to be late and wondered if it was possible for you to meet him at the restaurant?”

  I felt Riley brush past me as he headed out to his car, never once looking back. The back of my throat had started to close and my eyes were stinging with tears. I really had to try and figure out what my emotions were all about.

  “Sure Brenda, whatever suits,” I said quietly. The storm outside had really started to blow. Lightning flashed across the sky and thunder shook the house. Now I had to drive in this…great.

  * * * *

  By the time I got to the restaurant, I was exhausted. The storm had raged the whole way, with lightening striking around me, thunder crashing and rain pelting my little car. I felt very relieved to hand the keys to the attendant in the valet parking at the restaurant and was looking forward to sitting down with Scott.

  This was the In place to be seen at the moment and I have to admit it was very nice, if a bit flashy. Personally, I preferred somewhere a bit quieter and more intimate, but I appreciated the effort he put into tonight. Walking up to the front desk, I announced who I was and was told that Scott had not arrived yet but I was welcome to wait in the bar. Crap, I really hated waiting in the bar on my own. You always got approached by single men on the prowl looking for easy prey. Never mind, nothing I could do about it now, so I walked in and found a quiet table in the corner.

  The crowd was mostly young professionals networking. The accounting firm I worked for was really upmarket, with very high profile clients, so I should really feel at home here and be networking myself, but it just wasn’t my scene.

  The waiter approached and I ordered a diet coke. A drink would have been quite nice. I was feeling a bit worked up and anxious after my drive in, but I remembered I had to drive home again. The five minutes I’d spent in the kitchen with Riley had me a bit confused, but that was something I’d have to analyze when I had more time. I sent Scott a text letting him know I was waiting and then sat back and crowd-watched until he arrived. Thankfully, only one sad soul approached me, eyes locked on my cleavage and offered to buy me a drink. When I politely refused, he actually asked me if I was only into women. I mean, he obviously thought the only way a girl would turn him down was if she was a lesbian! I told him, that no, I just wasn’t into him. With this, he left me alone. Thank God Scott arrived not long after.

  “Sorry I’m late, Elizabeth,” he said placing a kiss on my cheek. “I’m sure you can appreciate I had to finish my meeting. I couldn’t keep a client waiting.” No, only his girlfriend. On her birthday.

  “That’s okay. I understand.” Of course I didn’t bloody understand but what was I supposed to say?

  “What are you drinking?” he asked as he signaled the waiter to order me another. Telling him it was just a soft drink, he responded, “Of course, you’re driving aren’t you? You had better stick with the coke so you’ll be okay to drive home tonight. I know you’re not much of a drinker,” he laughed.

  Well, I guess I wasn’t staying at his place then.

  Scott had me pretty much up-to-date on the comings and goings at the office in no time. It didn’t sound like I was missing much. He always told me the boring stuff about which client was doing what and never the interesting stuff like who was doing who. Hey, bookkeeping was really boring. I at least needed the office gossip to keep me going. After receiving a very dirty look from Scott for asking this very question, we moved to the dining room and ordered our meal. I ordered the chicken salad as I remembered I was supposed to be losing some weight, and Scott ordered the steak. I figured I could sneak in a dessert seeing how it was my birthday and had my eye on the tiramisu when the waitress came to take our order. I watched as Scott looked at her, his eyes starting on her face and then slowly working their way down the length of her body and then all the way back up again, lingering longingly on her legs. He did this quite quickly and if I hadn’t have been watching his face, I would have missed it altogether. I didn’t miss the look of admiration in his eyes.

  Wow, my boyfriend was checking out another woman on my birthday. Classy. “Like what you saw, Scott?” I asked. I know I should have ignored it but I couldn’t help myself.

  “Whatever are you talking about?”

  “I saw you check her out,” I said.

  “You’re being ridiculous. I would not check out a waitress,” he scoffed.

  “Really? It certainly looked like you checked her out. You even took your time studying her legs,” I snarled.

  “Elizabeth, is that jealousy? You know how I feel about that.”

  “Scot, you’ve spent more time looking at her legs than you have at me all evening. You haven’t even commented on how I look and I put a lot of effort in for you tonight,” I sulked. I mean, I didn’t have much high ground to stand on here as I’d been perving on Riley all week, but at least I didn’t do it in front of Scott.

  “Yes, I’m sorry. Your hair does look lovely, not its usual unruly mess,” he stated. With this he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small square box all wrapped up in pretty pink paper with a silver bow.

  “Happy birthday, Elizabeth,” he smiled, handing me the box.

  Oh. My. God! Is that what I think it is? What am I going to do? Okay, I have to calm myself down and do the only thing I can do—sit here and stare and hope it goes away.

  “Well, are you going to take it?” Scott asked with a little laugh to cover his embarrassment. The people at the table next to us were watching, obviously intrigued with what was in the box and expecting to hear a proposal.

  “Um…thank you?” I said as I reached to accept the gift. I looked up and saw a look of relief cross Scott’s face. With shaking hands, I gently undid the bow. I was smiling like a demented idiot. A nervous giggle escaped my throat. A large dose of panic lurked beneath, but I bravely continued on my mission. Pulling back the wrapping, I saw a tiny black box. Dread sat heavily in my stomach. Did I really want to open this?

  The lady at the table next to us was looking excited, her hands tucked under her chin and a huge grin on her face. Pulling all my courage together, I opened the box. A giggle of relief escaped from my lips and I quickly covered it with my hand. Inside were the sweetest diamond earrings I had ever seen.

  “Oh, these are really lovely. Thank you.” My voice was shaking from a combination of relief and adrenalin pumping through my system.

  “You look relieved. What did you think was in there?” Scott asked curiously.

  “It doesn’t matter, these are perfect.” The lady at the next table looked away, obviously disappointed.

  “Please don’t lie to me, Elizabeth. Something was clearly bothering you before you opened the box,” Scott asked, now sounding a bit annoyed.

  “I thought it might have been a ring,” I replied, embarrassment now clearly burning on my cheeks. Damn my mother for putting stupid ideas into my head.

  “A ring? Like an engagement ring?” Scott asked, incredulously. He looked like it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

  “Well, it’s a small black jewelry box and we have been together for quite a long time now. Most girls would jump to that conclusion, you know,” I said a bit indignantly.

  Scott started to laugh. I huffed as I watched him sit back in his chair and laughed the hardest I’d seen him laugh in a very long time.

  “Well, that is ridiculous.” Tears were starting to pool in his eyes.

 
Humph.

  “Why are you laughing?” I asked. “Why is it ridiculous?”

  “Oh, Elizabeth,” Scott said, running his finger under his lashes to flick away the tears. “As if I would marry you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, his words stinging. I know I didn’t want a ring to be in the box, but it doesn’t mean I want to hear I’m not marriage material.

  Realizing his blunder, Scott sobered up very quickly. “It’s your birthday, Elizabeth, let’s not ruin it,” he said placing his hand over mine.

  Too late for that, I thought.

  Chapter Eleven

  When was this house ever going to be quiet in the morning?

  I really felt like a sleep in, but with all the banging and clattering going on upstairs, my chances were nil. My alarm hadn’t even gone off yet! What the hell had Riley up so early? My head was pounding and my stomach churned as I made my way to the bathroom to do the usual morning routine. I felt like I had a hangover.

  Oh, that’s right, I probably do. I remember getting home around eleven last night, and being uptight and irritable. Finding the wine left over from last Friday night, I’d gone into the lounge room and listened to Lionel Ritchie on my iPod singing about how he was stuck on you and cried for hours. I really wanted someone to be stuck on me and yet, there I was on my birthday, alone and drinking straight from the bottle. As I’m not much of a drinker, it didn’t take long until I was at the bottom of the pit of self-pity. God, I really needed to get a grip. It’s not like I have a bad life, you know. Feeling marginally better after my shower, I headed down stairs to get some coffee, hoping it would cure me.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here this morning. I thought you would have stayed in the city last night,” smiled Riley. He looked particularly happy about something.

  “Change of plans. Could you pour me a coffee too, please?” I asked, sitting down at the table and putting my head in my hands. Riley poured me a cup and handed it to me.

  “Did you get to see Wicked?”

  “No, Scott gave me two tickets to see it on Saturday. I might take Molly with me.”

  “It looks like you had a bit of a party when you got home. I found the empty bottles in the lounge this morning.”

  Bottles? There was more than one? God, no wonder my head hurt.

  “I had a bit of a pity party,” I said half embarrassed.

  “Yeah, I thought something must have happened. Lionel Ritchie was stuck on repeat when I walked in,” Riley smiled. His smile really did light up the room. It just couldn’t cure a hangover.

  “How come you’re here so early?” I asked.

  “I had a few things I needed to finish in the attic before the carpet gets laid tomorrow and seeing how we have the solicitor at ten, I thought I’d get a head start on them.”

  That’s right, I’d forgotten about the solicitor.

  “I think I’m going back to bed for a while. Would you wake me up in a couple of hours, please?” Shuffling back upstairs, I fell on the bed and immediately fell back to sleep.

  * * * *

  By the time I’d had a couple more hours sleep and some aspirin, I was almost human again and ready for another trip into the city. We were in Riley’s truck this time, which was a bit of a pity as I wasn’t able to touch him every time a gear needed to be changed. Oh well, probably for the best as I still hadn’t analyzed what had happened in the kitchen last night.

  Riley appeared to be deep in thought, so our trip was a quiet one. It’s funny how I feel so comfortable even when we’re not talking. I actually never feel like I have to prove myself to Riley. Probably because he has no romantic interest in me.

  Walking into Patrick John’s office I had a good look around. It didn’t take long as his office wasn’t very big. The reception was unpretentious in its decoration with just a mahogany desk for his secretary and a small two-seater lounge pushed against one wall for visitors. The beige walls were decorated with the many certificates and awards Mr. Johns had received over the years. One of these was a plaque presented to him by the Global Ministry. I knew of this ministry, as I passed it on my way to my parents. It wasn’t like the church I’d attended Sunday school at, which was very traditional. The Global Ministry held its service in what used to be the basketball stadium, and they sang a lot. Loudly. I knew it had a large, growing congregation, so large they’d knocked down the stadium and built a big new building—supposedly big enough to hold all 1200 of its followers. Looking at the plaque, I was distracted as the door to another office opened and a man I presumed was Mr. Johns stepped out. He looked about sixty with salt and pepper-colored hair and glasses perched on his hawk-like nose. His suit was just a little bit too big for him, but he seemed friendly enough as he introduced himself and invited us in.

  “What can I do for you lovely folk?” he asked with a smile, closing the door behind us. Sitting down, Riley quickly filled him in on our mission and asked if he could give us any information that might be useful to us.

  “Of course, I’m sure you are aware I can’t divulge any personal information about Ms. Miller, but what I can tell you is her estate was sold and the proceeds given to a local charity. It was the local cat shelter, if I’m not mistaken. I personally oversaw the clearing of the house. Any furniture and personal belongings were also donated, all except her photos. Because of the age of some of them, we felt it would be beneficial for those to go to the local library for their archives,” he mused.

  “Did Avis ever mention anyone named Will to you, Mr. Johns?” I asked. I watched as he started to fidget in his chair.

  “Not that I remember. If you don’t mind me asking, why does this interest you so much?” he asked.

  “We found some letters and a ring hidden under the floor and wanted to return them to their original owner,” Riley said.

  “I see. Unfortunately, my connection with Ms. Miller was purely professional and even then our meetings were brief. What information did the letters contain?” he asked. His eyes had got brighter and all of a sudden I could visualize him in a courtroom. Looking around his inner office, I don’t think he got that opportunity very often though.

  “Not much really. We just felt they were very personal and should be returned to the writer. Destroying them doesn’t feel right,” I said.

  “The writer may no longer be alive. Maybe you should bring them to me and I’ll take a look at them. See if I can do some digging for you,” suggested Mr. Johns with a smile.

  This sounded like a very nice offer but I didn’t think we’d be taking it up anytime soon. I had a weird feeling Mr. Johns was holding out on us.

  “Also, I know legally the ring belongs to you now,” he said turning to me, “but maybe you’d like to hand it to me to be sold and given to the charity as well. After all, I’m sure that’s what Ms. Miller would have wanted,” he said, giving me a very sweet, almost sickly smile.

  “Thank you Mr. Johns, we’ll keep that in mind if we can’t find who it belongs to.” Riley stood.

  Time to go by the looks of things. And not a moment too soon as I was feeling a quite uneasy.

  * * * *

  Walking back out into the street, we decided to grab some lunch and worked our way to a sandwich shop not far from my old office. This particular shop was a favourite of mine and was very retro, stuck between a sushi bar and a bookshop. After ordering my usual turkey and cranberry Panini, Riley and I found a booth and sat down to wait for our order.

  “Next stop the library,” said Riley. We’d decided we should take a look at Avis’s old photo’s to see if they held any clues.

  “Yes, I’m actually a bit excited to see the photos. I wonder if any of them were of the house.” I thought for a moment. “Did you feel Mr. Johns knew more than he was letting on?” I asked Riley.

  “Funny you should say that, but that’s exactly what I felt.”

  “But what? Do you think he knew who Will was?”

  “No idea, but whatever it was, he wasn’t
about to tell us.”

  Thinking about this, I nearly missed Brenda walking in with Scott. They walked straight to the back of the shop and sat in a booth in the far corner. I saw Riley notice them as well and he looked over at me, eyebrows arched. Brenda had obviously visited her cosmetic surgeon recently as her lips were looking awfully swollen but apart from that she was looking very nice with her designer suit and four inch heels, towering over Scott. Something about the way they looked at each other seemed a bit more intimate than a business lunch.

  “That’s weird. Scott told me he had a meeting on the other side of the city today. That’s why we left the restaurant early last night. He needed his rest to be ready for it,” I said. The feeling of unease that had been creeping around in my stomach ever since we’d visited the solicitor was now on its way to a being full-blown anxiety attack. Then again, it could just be the hangover causing the sick feeling in my stomach.

  “Why don’t you go over and say hello?” suggested Riley.

  I looked at him, deciding what to do. “Okay, I’ll just be a minute.” I got up and headed over to their booth.

  “Hi, Scott, Brenda,” I smiled tightly. Both of them jumped so high they physically lifted off their seats.

  “Elizabeth. What are you doing here?” asked Scott obviously annoyed I had interrupted…whatever I was interrupting.

  “I was visiting a solicitor here in the city. I told you about it last night, remember? I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone and go into the office to collect any files that were ready for me.”

  “Oh, yes of course, but don’t bother with the office, I’ll have everything couriered to you on Friday,” he said hurriedly.

  “I thought you had a big meeting today on the other side of the city?”

  “What?” A look of confusion crossed his face but he quickly recovered. “Oh yes, that’s right. It was cancelled,” he said, looking a bit flustered. I noticed the small bead of sweat sitting on his top lip.