Hemlock for the Holidays

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Hemlock for the Holidays Page 16

by Paula Darnell


  Officer Terry proceeded to take down our contact information and made some notes. He must have been on the scene the night Eric died, because he knew whose house had been burgled. We took him inside and walked around, but we weren't able to tell whether anything was missing. Then, we saw some papers strewn about, near Eric's desk, only a few feet from where he'd died. Other than that, nothing seemed to be amiss downstairs.

  Upstairs, we peeked into a couple of small, spartan bedrooms. The much-larger and well-furnished master bedroom at the end of the hallway featured an en suite bathroom and a walk-in closet. The covers on the king-size bed were rumpled, as though someone had just gotten out of bed. On the last day of his life, Eric would never have imagined he wouldn't be returning to sleep there.

  “Oh!” Rebecca exclaimed when she opened the closet door. “Natalie's clothes are still here. It doesn't look as though Eric ever got rid of any of them after she died.”

  She backed out of the closet and went to a carved wooden jewelry box that sat on the dresser in the master bedroom.

  “This is empty,” she told Terry after she'd checked it, “but Eric may have given away or sold his wife's jewelry after she died. She did have a couple of antique pieces, but mostly she wore costume jewelry, which wouldn't be valuable.”

  We trooped back downstairs, and Terry paused in the living room to answer a call from his partner.

  “You mentioned antique jewelry,” he said to Rebecca. “Can you describe it?”

  “There was a long rope necklace of real pearls and an art deco diamond and platinum ring. Natalie inherited them from her great-grandmother, along with this house.”

  “Did your partner find them?” I asked.

  “Our burglar did. They were stuffed in his jacket pocket. I don't think his lawyer's going to be able to get him out of this one, like he did yesterday.”

  “I can't believe Kevin stooped so low, and to think he and Eric used to be friends,” Rebecca said.

  “We'll be in touch,” Terry said. “Someone will need to identify the jewelry. Are you the executor of the estate?” he asked Rebecca.

  “No, just a relative. Eric's nephew, Josh Thompson, is the executor. I can give you his phone number.”

  Terry jotted it down with his other notes. “Does he drive a red sports car?”

  “Yes, he does,” I volunteered.

  “I remember him.”

  He left it at that. Since Terry had been one of the officers called out when Eric died, he'd probably witnessed how upset Josh had been that night.

  “Better get that back window repaired right away,” he suggested on his way out. “Somebody else might try to get in.”

  “I'll take care of it,” Rebecca assured him, and she called Greg the minute he left.

  “I know you didn't want to come over to Eric's,” Rebecca told her husband, “but I'm afraid we're going to need some help.”

  When she finished talking, she said, “He'll be right over with some plywood to board up the window until Josh can get it repaired. He certainly has his hands full with everything that's happened. And now this.”

  Chapter 35

  While we waited for Greg to arrive, Rebecca and I picked up the papers that Kevin had dumped on the floor in Eric's office. On glancing at them, we could see that they contained nothing of interest to him. Instead, most of them were unpaid bills. I speculated that he'd become frustrated and tossed them aside.

  We stacked the bills neatly on the corner of the desk for Josh to retrieve before the auction house personnel came to remove the furniture and other household goods.

  “I still haven't picked out a memento,” Rebecca said. Suddenly, she smiled. “I have it. I remember Natalie had that painting I liked—a desert scene with mountains in the background. It used to be above the sofa in the living room. I don't remember seeing it there today, though.”

  “Why don't we double check?”

  “Yes, let's. It would look nice in our den, I think.”

  In the living room, a framed print hung above the sofa.

  “Not there. Come to think of it, it's probably been a while since I've seen it. Oh, well. I'll settle for those brass bookends I saw in the office and call it a day.” She glanced out the front window. “Here comes Greg now.”

  We went outside, and Rebecca helped Greg carry the plywood while I grabbed the hammer and box of nails he'd brought and followed them around back.

  It didn't take Greg long to secure the plywood over the broken window.

  “That ought to do it,” he said, as he hammered the last nail in place. “Josh isn't going to be happy about this, especially when he hears who did it. Kevin's gone beyond a nuisance, breaking and entering and stealing Natalie's jewelry. I don't know what's wrong with that guy.”

  “He's certainly persistent, in a bad way,” I said.

  “Not much more we can do here,” Rebecca observed. “Are you sure you don't want to come in and look around?”

  “I'm sure.”

  “OK. I'll just grab those brass bookends and lock up. See you at home in a few minutes.”

  After Rebecca retrieved the bookends and locked the front door, I had an idea.

  “Rebecca, let's go next door for a minute and thank Sylvia for calling the police.”

  “All right.”

  Before we started up her steps, Sylvia came out, onto the front porch.

  “Hello, Amanda.”

  “Hi, Sylvia. This is my friend, Rebecca Winters. She's one of Eric's relatives. We just want to thank you for calling the police. We'll never know what Kevin would have done if he'd found us in the house.”

  “It was obvious the man was up to no good. You know him?”

  “I know who he is. He was Kevin's former partner.”

  “Ah. That explains it. He looked somewhat familiar. I must have seen him next door at one time or another, but not lately.”

  “You haven't noticed anybody else hanging around the house, have you?”

  “Only Jack, but he let himself in with the key.”

  “You mean the key Eric left under the flower pot?”

  “Right. I figure if he knew where to get it, he was probably checking on something for Josh.”

  “Come on, Amanda; we'd better get going,” Rebecca said, as she tugged at my sleeve.

  I nodded and waved goodbye to Sylvia. As we were walking to Rebecca's car, I asked, “What's wrong, Rebecca? You didn't say a word to Sylvia.”

  “I know. I was so dumbstruck by her brooch that I didn't know what to say.”

  “The huge red poinsettia pin?”

  “The last time I saw it, Natalie was wearing it. I'm sure it's the same brooch.”

  “You think Sylvia stole it?”

  “She knew where Eric kept the key.”

  “Could Natalie have given the brooch to Sylvia, perhaps as a Christmas present?”

  “I suppose it's possible, but it's also possible that she helped herself to it.”

  “Sylvia doesn't strike me as a thief, but I don't really know her all that well.”

  We hopped into the car, and Rebecca backed out of the driveway.

  “You're definitely right about returning the house key to Josh. I'll make sure he gets it today. It seems as though anybody in the neighborhood might know about it, not only Sylvia and Jack. The funny thing is that, when I told Greg about it, he acted as though he didn't even hear me. Normally, something like a house key being kept outside, where people can find it, would really set him off. You know how obsessed he is with personal safety and protecting property. Maybe Eric's death hit him harder than I realized, but he doesn't even seem that concerned with any news about the poisonings.”

  I had to admit Greg's attitude didn't sound like the Greg I knew. As Rebecca said, he'd always been security conscious.

  “Maybe you should ask him about it.”

  “You're right. I'm going to mention this key business when I get home and see how he reacts this time.”

  As soon as Rebecca
dropped me off, my pets scrambled to greet me. They were both ready for some playtime, so I obliged them before having my lunch and looking over the menu I'd made for this evening's meal.

  I'd invited Belle and Dennis to dinner this particular night because I wanted to give them their Christmas present before they left for their trip to Michigan on Saturday. Knowing I'd be busy picking Emma up the next day and occupied Friday with my studio tour in the evening, I'd decided this was the best time to do it.

  Glancing at the menu I'd jotted down, I decided not to make any changes. It was a hearty meal, appropriate for a cold winter day—stuffed pork chops, baked apples, garlic mashed potatoes, green beans, and pecan pie for dessert. The pie was the only menu item I could prepare ahead of time, so I made it before spending some time in my studio.

  As I painted, I thought about Eric's untimely demise. Because of his impending bankruptcy, all his creditors had reason to be angry with him, although his ex-partner certainly had been the most vocal. Bob Gibbs wouldn't have minded if Eric's lawsuit went away. Could he have thought that Eric's death would end it, only to find out later that Josh intended to continue to pursue litigation?

  Everything seemed to center around Eric, and his house had become a point of interest, too, not only to Kevin Frazer, but also to Eric's neighbors.

  There were more questions than answers. I wondered what had happened to Natalie's costume jewelry as well as the painting Rebecca had wanted and why Eric hadn't sold the valuable pearls and diamond ring, which, I felt certain, would bring several thousand dollars, if sold. I also wondered whether Josh had any idea of the value of the two pieces of antique jewelry, which surely would command a much higher price at a specialty auction, rather than a local auction featuring mainly furniture and household goods.

  I made a mental note to alert Josh, although I felt a bit awkward about doing so. He'd felt grateful that I'd clued him in about the bribe the mayor's husband had offered Josh's lawyer, yet I remembered an impression I'd had at the time that he'd thought of me as a busybody. Now, here I was again, poking my nose into his business. I decided to tell Chip, instead, and ask him to pass the information along to his friend. By now, the police would have informed Josh about the burglary at his uncle's house, but that didn't mean he knew how valuable the stolen necklace and ring were.

  As soon as I put my paints away and moved the canvas I'd been working on to the corner of the studio, I called Chip to ask him to tell Josh about the value of the stolen jewelry.

  “All right, Amanda, I'll wait until he brings up the burglary, and then I'll suggest he check into selling the antique pieces elsewhere. I won't even mention your name, if you don't want me to.”

  “Thanks, Chip. That would be fine.”

  “No problem.”

  With that task taken care of, I went to the studio closet and brought out my painting of Mr. Big. I placed it on an easel squarely in the center of the studio, facing the door to the living room.

  Then, I stood back and admired my work. The little dog looked absolutely adorable.

  I smiled as I turned off the lights and pulled the door closed so that Belle and Dennis wouldn't see their Christmas present until the big reveal after dinner.

  Chapter 36

  “Merry Christmas!” Belle said as she handed me a silver wrapped flat package with a huge red bow on top.

  “Merry Christmas to you, too!”

  Mr. Big strained at his leash, and Belle stooped to unsnap it from his collar while Dennis followed her into the kitchen, carrying their card table. I'd asked to borrow it for our dinner because my little two-seater table literally did not have room for more than two people.

  Laddie and Mr. Big jumped and ran around until I corralled them in a corner so that Dennis could set up the card table.

  “All set,” he said. “I'm going to take these two outside until you're ready.” He called the dogs and headed for the back door.

  “Thanks, Dennis.”

  With our canine companions happily occupied and out from underfoot, Belle set the table while I finished preparing the garlic mashed potatoes and warming the green beans. I'd timed the pork chops and the baked apples to be done in a few minutes.

  When all the food was ready to be served, Belle called Dennis. The dogs rushed back into the house and came straight to the kitchen. I set a bowl down for Mr. Big, next to Laddie's dish, and put a couple of treats in each, tiny ones for Mr. Big and larger ones for Laddie. It took only seconds for them to devour their snacks, but they were satisfied, and when we told them to lie down as soon as we began eating dinner, they complied. Mona Lisa had ducked into the bedroom as soon as Mr. Big made his appearance, and she wasn't about to come out any time soon.

  “Are you sure you wouldn't like to have your Christmas dinner at our house?” Belle asked. Of course, Belle and Dennis's spacious house had far more room than mine did, including a large kitchen and a separate dining room, so it was a practical suggestion as well as a generous one.

  “Thanks, Belle, but I think I'd rather have it here. You know, my first Christmas in my very own home. I know it's small, but—”

  “It's cozy.”

  I smiled. “Yes, exactly, and I do appreciate your inviting Dustin and my parents to stay at your house while they're visiting. It'll be so much handier than if they had to book motel rooms.”

  “We're happy to do it, Amanda,” Dennis said. “By the way, Emma texted me earlier today. She said she'd like to come in for work at the feed store, starting Friday.”

  “Really? I thought she'd want to wait until Monday.”

  “I think a certain young man who works at the feed store might have something to do with it.”

  “Hmm. Emma never mentioned anyone.”

  “Maybe I shouldn't have, either. I noticed last summer that they were friendly.”

  “It's news to me, but she hasn't been dating anyone at college. I can't wait to see her.”

  “Bring Laddie over as early as you need to in the morning. I know you'll be wanting to get to the airport a little early. Dennis will be up, won't you, honey?”

  “I sure will. I never could sleep in. Not like some people I know.” He grinned and rolled his eyes in Belle's direction.

  We cleared the dishes, and Dennis folded the card table.

  “Where would you like me to put the table?” he asked. It was staying until after my parents and Dustin went home. “How about the studio?”

  “Wait a second. Could you just leave it behind the sofa for now? I'd like to give you your Christmas present, and it's in the studio.” I opened the door and switched the light on.

  Belle rushed forward and gazed at Mr. Big's portrait. She drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, Amanda, it's wonderful! You've really captured Mr. Big's personality!” She hugged me. “Thank you so much!”

  “I don't know how you do it, Amanda,” Dennis said. “He looks exactly like the little scamp he is.”

  “I know just where I want to hang it,” Belle said. “I can't thank you enough. It's such a perfect gift.”

  “I'm glad you like it.”

  “We love it, and we have a gift for you, too. Why don't you open it now?” Belle urged, as she picked up my gift that I'd left sitting on an end table, next to the sofa, and gave it to me.

  I tore off the bow and the silver wrapping paper, revealing a flat white box. I lifted the cover and removed the contents—a paper with a schematic drawing on it. Confused, I looked at Belle and Dennis.

  “Turn it over,” Belle urged.

  On the back was written, “Your new garage.”

  “We're going to convert your carport into a garage,” Dennis explained, “complete with automatic door.”

  I felt so stunned by their gift, which was both thoughtful and practical, that I was almost speechless.

  “Well, what do you think?” Belle asked.

  “It's wonderful! I'm sorry I'm tongue-tied. It's such a surprise.”

  “Good; for a minute there, I was afraid you didn't li
ke it,” Belle said.

  “Oh, no. I love it. I'm just blown away; that's all,” I assured her.

  Dennis and Belle grinned at each other.

  “Now, there's just one more detail, and we're all set,” Dennis said. “We need to get a building permit from the city. All you have to do is sign the application, and, as soon as the city issues the permit, we're in business.”

  Belle pulled the document from her purse and handed it to me.

  I quickly scribbled my name on the dotted line and gave it back to her.

  “I'm still trying to wrap my mind around having a real garage. It'll be so much handier, and I'll actually be able to store stuff in there without worrying that it might disappear.”

  “It's not as big a project as it seems at first. You already have three walls and a roof, so all we have to build is the front and then install the door.”

  “That sounds like plenty to me.”

  “I think we can get it done in a day. Brian's volunteered to help with the construction.”

  “That's nice of him. He mentioned to me once that it would be a good idea to enclose my carport, but that was months ago. He never gave me a hint about what you were planning.”

  “I think he's a keeper, Amanda,” Belle said with a wink. “But no pressure.” She held up her hand as I started to reply.

  “All right, Mrs. Cupid. I'll keep that in mind.”

  We chatted for a while longer, and, when Belle and Dennis left, she assured me that Mr. Big's portrait would be in its place soon and I could see it there when I dropped off Laddie in the morning.

  After they left, I returned to the kitchen to load the dishwasher. I'd just turned it on when my phone rang. I half-expected to see Brian's name pop up on the caller ID, but the call came from Rebecca.

  “Hi, Amanda. I hope I'm not calling too late.”

  “Not at all. It's only nine o'clock. What's up?”

  “A couple of things. Remember when I said I was going to talk to Greg?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, I did, and he denied anything was wrong. He said he was just a little preoccupied.”

 

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