Secret of the Painted Lady

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Secret of the Painted Lady Page 15

by Christina A. Burke


  "Not at all," he said with an appreciative grin. "Had you pegged for more of a sweats and tee girl. Not that the nightie isn't perfectly charming."

  I jerked the covers up to my chin. I expressed my feminine side in my nightgowns and undergarments. It was my secret indulgence, until now.

  "Turn around," I ordered. George complied, and I pulled on my discarded jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. "This is ridiculous. Luke is probably just taking a walk because he can't sleep."

  "Maybe so," George said, opening my door and hustling me through, "but he was headed to the beach after talking to someone on a phone."

  I stopped abruptly. "There's no phone in his room."

  "Exactly," George said, turning the flashlight on me again. "He has a cell phone, and more importantly, he has someone to call."

  At the kitchen door, we pulled on heavy overcoats against the blustery night. I wasn't sure this was the best plan ever hatched, but I was certainly curious about Luke's after-hours phone call on a secret cell phone. As much as I liked him, I couldn't forget that he was staying in my home and could be putting us all in danger.

  We hurried across the backyard and down the steep steps cut into the side of the cliff. The wind whipped at our faces, and a fine rain began to fall.

  "Great," George said. "Are you okay?"

  "I've only walked these stairs about a thousand times. I'm more worried about you," I said as I watched him stumble.

  "Look ahead," he said, pointing to two flashlights in the distance.

  "Well, we can't just walk up and say howdy at two a.m.," I said. "What's your plan?"

  George looked back at me. I pictured him frowning. "Hadn't really gotten that far."

  I laughed. "Good thing you brought Nora along. There's a grouping of caves that is accessible at low tide. It starts near the bottom of the stairs and runs about a half mile down the beach."

  "Caves?" George asked.

  "Yep. Wet, dark, and probably full of bats. You ready?" I asked, heading back toward the rocky opening. I'd never seen a bat or any other critter in the caves, but I was having too much fun to cut George a break.

  "How long until the tide comes back in?" George asked hesitantly as we stooped into the first cave.

  I took the flashlight from him and switched it on to reveal a four-foot-by-three-foot opening. I tilted the light to see the floor. A half a foot of water was swirling in the bottom. "I'd say we've got an hour before this fills up."

  George nodded and crawled in behind me. The caves could be dicey at high tide, but we had more than an hour, and it wouldn't take us ten minutes to get to the other side. The cave opened up, and we were able to stand for most of the way. Water dripped loudly all around us.

  "Don't see any bats," George said.

  "I was kidding about the bats."

  "Have you ever gotten stuck in here at high tide?" he asked.

  "Stuck? No. But I have the top time for Race the Tide." I wasn't bragging. I'd gotten a six-pack of beer and a crown at the senior bonfire. "Kind of a rite of passage around here. The high school seniors have a big bonfire on the beach and play stupid games. Race the Tide was the highlight."

  "Always the tomboy," George said with a chuckle.

  "Comes in handy at times like this…don't you think?" I asked, shining the flashlight in his face.

  The walls started to narrow, and we had to stoop down to continue forward. "Please tell me this means we're almost there," George huffed.

  "Just a little further. I need to cut the light so they don't see us coming out." My legs were soaked up to the knees. The tide was coming in faster than I'd anticipated. Getting back undetected might be tricky.

  We heard Luke and his companion before we saw them. "I don't remember!" Luke shouted. "You tell me."

  "Well, boy, you'd better start remembering. 'Cause you've got more to worry about than just me. Hey," said a voice I'd recognize anywhere—Jack Condor. "I'm just the messenger. I'm not part of this deal."

  "I don't know anything about the deal or where the diamonds are," Luke yelled.

  "So you say," Condor said loudly. "But my client is starting to get antsy. There's a dead jewel fence, missing diamonds, and you with amnesia. Not exactly how my client was hoping this whole thing would turn out. Wise guys aren't used to being told there's a problem, you know."

  "No, I don't know," Luke shouted again. "I can't remember anything about your client. Obviously, I'm some kind of criminal!"

  Condor looked around and waved his arms. "Calm down, man. All I need for you to do is look for the diamonds. I see the whole amnesia thing is probably real."

  Luke's voice seemed calmer when he answered. Maybe he found some solace in being taken seriously. "So I was delivering these diamonds when everything went wrong? I'm a stolen goods fence? What do you know about me?" Luke demanded.

  "I don't know nothing but what I'm told to know by my client, and I didn't say they're stolen. Could be you're just the delivery man, same as I'm the middle man. We're in charge of keepin' the parties apart." I wanted to spit at Condor's smooth manipulation. The man was actually trying to sugarcoat murder.

  "Yeah, right," George mumbled next to me.

  "So if I can find the diamonds, your client will back off?" Luke asked.

  Condor nodded. "That's all we want. Return the diamonds to the rightful owner without involving the police."

  "But the guy in the bathtub," Luke sputtered. "He's dead. Someone shot him. The police aren't just going to stop investigating that."

  Condor shrugged. "Yep, and that's gonna be the murderer's problem. Not ours. Our hands are clean, right?"

  Luke said nothing, but I thought I saw him cup his hands over his face. How could he be sure his hands were clean?

  "So we got a deal, Luke?" Condor asked, sticking out his hand.

  Luke stared at Condor's hand like he was about to shake hands with the devil. Don't do it, I wanted to scream. Luke shook his hand.

  "That a boy," Condor said with false warmth and clapped a hand on Luke's shoulder. "It'll be easy. You've got access to everything here and at Marlton House. You'll find them."

  Suddenly, Luke pulled Condor's hand hard into him, bringing his face close to Condor's. I strained to hear his words, but caught nothing but the howling wind.

  Condor tried to take his hand back, but Luke held firmly. Condor gave a cry of pain. Luke released Condor a moment later. Without a word, Condor turned and walked away, grasping his injured hand. Luke didn't give him a second look. He just turned and stared out at the dark water.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  I turned to George. "We need to hurry, or we'll have to stay out here all night." I jumped around him and headed back into the cave. The water was almost thigh high.

  "This is crazy," George hissed as he tramped after me. "Even if we manage to survive drowning in here, he's going to see us ahead of him at the stairs."

  "The cave cuts the time in half. We can be up the stairs before he has a chance to see us. Just move fast." My teeth were chattering with cold, and my confidence level was dropping. It'd been a few years since I'd played Race the Tide. And George didn't seem like he was catching on too quickly.

  As we reached the halfway point, the water was waist high. "We need to go back," George shouted.

  I reached out and grabbed his hand. "No time!" I slipped on a rock and went down to one knee.

  George grabbed me by the arm and hoisted me up. I gasped as the icy water took my breath away.

  "Are you okay?"

  I nodded. There came the rushing sound of the tide, louder and more ferocious now. "What's that?" he yelled over the noise.

  I pulled hard on his arm. "It's the tide. It gets louder as it comes in. Hurry!"

  As we reached the final cave, I realized we were too late. The water was rushing in at chest level. "Take a deep breath and don't let go," I yelled.

  There was panic in George's eyes, but he nodded and gasped for air.

  "Now!"

 
; We dove under and swam through the six-foot narrow opening that led to the beach. For a panicked moment, I lost George's hand. I started to turn, but his hand at my back urged me forward.

  Seconds later we both emerged from the ledge of the cave, gasping for air. We rolled onto our backs and coughed water from our lungs.

  George recovered first. "Okay, Nora. Only halfway there. Mr. X is headed this way." He offered me a sandy hand.

  I groaned. "Solving mysteries is way harder than it looks. I'll take a reno any day over this."

  We jogged up the beach, sticking close to the rocky cliffs. "What're you complaining about? You're the one who almost drowned us both in there. No way you ever won a crown for that performance."

  "Hey, you're still alive, aren't you?" I said, huffing next to him.

  "Barely," he grumbled as we started up the slippery cliff stairs. I looked down the beach and could make out Luke's shadowy, lone figure walking slowly up the beach.

  We ducked into the garage so we wouldn't drip all over the kitchen. "Strip," George ordered. "And make it fast."

  I had several pairs of old winter coveralls hung on pegs in the garage. I watched with interest as George went down to his tighty whities. The image of a lithe, sleek cat came to mind again. All sinewy lean muscle and bone. He caught me looking.

  "I'd have taken you for more of a silk boxer kinda guy," I said with a grin.

  "Cotton only for my boys. How about you?" he asked, peering over at me.

  "None of your business." I ducked behind a shelving unit and pulled on the coveralls. No way did I want him to see I was wearing a thong.

  We stashed our clothes behind some boxes and hurried inside. The warmth of the kitchen hit me like a summer day on the beach.

  "Hurry," George said. "Get up stairs."

  We reached my room on tiptoes. "Why don't I come in and warm you up? We can chat about all the new clues." His eyes were smoky and dark. My teeth were chattering, and I was frozen to the bone. So tempting…

  I started to giggle. "You look absolutely ridiculous." He was Huck Finn, all elbows and knees in my tiny coveralls.

  He looked down at me. "You look delectable. I'd love to see what's under that," he said, giving the suspender over my shoulder a tug.

  I brushed his hand away. "Not going to happen. Haven't you had enough fun for one night?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

  He started to lean toward me when we heard the kitchen door squeak open. I pushed him away. "Go to bed, George."

  "Yes, Mrs. Charles," he said with a long-suffering sigh.

  * * *

  Could it get anymore awkward than this? Sitting between Luke and George with Gram's sharp eyes taking in my every move. She'd made a comment when I was pouring myself a cup of coffee about nocturnal wanderings. I'd choked on my coffee and sat down at the table without a word.

  "So what's on your schedule today, Alexandra?" Gram asked.

  Umm, let me see. Find out if Luke was a murderer, a jewel thief, a fence, or all three. "We're working at Marlton House again all day."

  "Will you all be home for dinner? Dolly has a lovely pot roast." She looked hopefully at the three of us.

  George spoke first, "Well, I'll be here. Wouldn't miss Dolly's pot roast for the world."

  Gram gave him a big smile and turned her stare to Luke.

  "Well, ma'am, I'll be working with Alex at Marlton House all day. So I guess it's up to the boss lady." He gave me a little smile and patted my hand.

  George stiffened at the touch. "Maybe I could stop by and help out for a few hours."

  Luke glared at him. "Don't you have a flower shop to run?"

  George waved his hand dismissively. "Practically runs itself these days."

  I rolled my eyes. "I have enough help. Thanks anyway, George." I pushed back from the table. "We need to get going. Big Ron's putting those support beams in the attic today. I need to keep the rest of the crew productive."

  I put my plate into the sink and washed my hands. "What are you up to today, Gram?" I called over my shoulder.

  "Oh, Alice is coming by, and we're going to the gallery. I texted her a picture of some of the most darling quilts when I was in the other day. She wants to buy one of them. They have such beautiful things there, but a little pricey for my pocketbook."

  "That sounds nice," I replied offhandedly.

  "Will you have time for lunch, dear?" she asked.

  "I'm not sure, Gram. We're going to be pretty busy all day. Send me a text when you're going to lunch, and I'll let you know then."

  She nodded and sipped her tea.

  Luke was behind me as I grabbed my jacket off the hook. He handed me the keys to the truck.

  "Oh, don't worry about me," George said. "Suppose I'll just stroll into town."

  I sighed. "You've got five minutes."

  We didn't have two words to say on the way into town. The air was thick with unsaid accusations. Luke felt different to me today. More sinister or just more confused. I wasn't sure. I dropped George off in front of the flower shop and sped off to Marlton House.

  Big Ron was directing a crane over the curb and onto the side of the property.

  "That's no joke," Luke observed.

  I got out of the truck and raised a hand to Ron. "Will that upstairs window work? Those beams are huge."

  "We measured it up, but with the wind, I'm a little worried about banging into the house or breaking the frame."

  I nodded, noticing the swaying tree limbs for the first time. One big gust at the wrong moment could turn one of the heavy wooden beams into a dangerous projectile. "We're going up." Luke followed closely behind me.

  I practically ran the three flights of stairs to get to the attic. A couple of the guys were milling around watching one of the least experienced workers lean out the window and try to grab the beam with bare hands.

  "Stop!" I yelled. "Get away from that window before you fall out." Jeez, what a bunch of goobers.

  I stepped up to the window and checked the distance to the beam. I pulled out my cell phone and called Ron. "You've got to move the crane six inches closer. I know it's not an exact science, but it's too far out."

  I hung up and motioned to the crew. "Okay, we need to form two lines. The beam weighs nearly three hundred pounds. When it comes through the window, we need to lower it to the floor. Not drop it—got it?" I had a picture of the beam crashing through to the ground floor.

  "Safety first. Everyone glove up!" I handed Luke a pair of heavy work gloves. We faced each other as we waited for the crane to be moved.

  "You're good at this," he said.

  "Thanks. It's my job." To hide my embarrassment, I said, "When the beam comes toward us, we need to use the momentum and pull it through the window. Don't lean out." I glanced down at the windowsill.

  "Where's the heavy-duty cardboard? The beam's got to be able to slide over this sill." The worker who'd been leaning out the window when I came in raced over with the cardboard and positioned it over the sill. I gave him a thumbs-up, and then the beam was coming at us. Luke and I grasped it at the same moment and pulled, working with the forward momentum from the crane. The heavy beam slid smoothly across the cardboard and into the next pair of waiting hands.

  "Pull!" I ordered. The guys heaved, and the beam came further into the room. "Now lift!" We all lifted and waddled a few feet from the window. "Lower!" The beam came to rest on the floor with a heavy thud.

  Big Ron was at the top of the staircase and gave a loud whistle. "That right there's how ya get it done. Good job, Boss."

  A couple of guys on the crew high-fived me. "Not my first beam," I replied with a grin. "Think you guys can handle the other four on your own?"

  "Yes, ma'am," they all called back.

  The new crew for downstairs had arrived and were milling about, waiting for instructions. Argh! I hated to see able-bodied men just standing around on my dollar.

  "Okay, everyone, listen up," I began, drawing them into a tight circle. "
We need to finish demo-ing the two bathrooms upstairs today. Tubs are staying in both. Everything else goes. I'll need two guys in each bathroom. Who wants it?"

  "We'll take it," said one pair with matching headbands and tattoos all over their necks.

  "Upstairs on the left." I pointed to the stairs. "How about you and you?" I asked two guys next to me. "Ready to tackle a bathroom?"

  They both nodded. "Opposite end of the hallway. Thanks, guys!"

  I was down to two guys and Luke. "Okay, it's not glamorous, but we need to take down all window coverings in the house without messing up the trim. Not an easy job given how old this place is, and definitely a little tedious. Ready to go?" They nodded. "Ladder's on Big Ron's truck." They headed out the front door.

  "So what are we working on today?" Luke asked.

  "We are putting together the window order. That's why I have the guys taking down all the coverings. We need to see how many need replaced or just repaired." I was torn between keeping original design elements and making the house more efficient. "I also need to get an idea as to how inefficient the current windows are. Might be best to just replace them all." I could hear George's cha-ching in the back of my mind.

  "Sounds good," Luke said agreeably, but I could tell he was distracted.

  We started in the library, where I'd already pulled down the drapes. Luke carried a small stepladder. I had my yellow notepad and a measuring tape. As soon as we walked into the room, Luke seemed to fixate on the fireplace. I ignored him and went to the first window.

  "Just what I thought," I said to him, "single-pane glass, warped casings." I grunted as I tried to force the window open.

  Luke came up behind me. "Let me try." He banged on the frame a couple of times and then pushed upward. I could see the muscles in his forearms bulge and strain with his efforts. The window went up about a foot and a half and stopped.

  I put my head out the window to check the exterior casing. There was just bare wood with a few flecks of white paint. I could see some of the wood was crumbling in the corners. I made a note on my pad to have the exterminators in to check for termite damage.

 

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