by Sharon Dunn
After they checked all of the doors and windows, the officer waited in the driveway until Annie had crossed the short distance to the carriage house and knocked on the door.
She appreciated his vigilance, but it would have been nice if he had believed her.
15
Alice opened the door and gathered Annie into a tight embrace. She held her friend for a long moment. “You had quite a scare.”
Annie sighed. “On top of everything, I think the police department is starting to think they are dealing with a crazy woman. I know I saw a light go on in that window. I didn’t lock that door. I’m pretty sure someone was in my house.”
Alice led Annie into her cozy living room. Bags of various sizes printed with the Princessa or Divine Décor logo were scattered on every flat surface. Alice had a fire burning in her fireplace.
“I tell you what.” Annie plopped down in one of Alice’s soft chairs. “I cannot get those stock certificates returned fast enough.” Her voice broke. “Grey Gables doesn’t even feel like the safe, wonderful home Gram intended it to be.”
“I don’t know about you, but after all this excitement, I’m not tired.” Alice poked at the fire. “What do you say I make us some cocoa, and we go over everything you know so far?”
“I suppose that is a good idea.” Annie fought off that sinking feeling of despair that threatened to overwhelm her. “I just didn’t think returning the stock would be that big a deal. I was trying to do the right thing.”
“Talking through everything might get us closer to accomplishing what you set out to do.”
Alice was right. Everything was jumbled in her head. “OK.”
Alice grabbed a notebook and pen from a desk drawer. “Write down everything you know so far—not speculations and guesses, just what you know for sure. I’ll go make the cocoa, and then we can talk this out.”
Annie flipped open the notebook. Where to begin? The pen hovered above the piece of paper for a moment. Then she wrote:
The stock is worth a great deal of money.
Joan Whitlock had intended to come back for the stock, but something kept her away.
The stock was issued to Therese Marie Gilkerson.
Because all the records are electronic, having actual physical stock certificates means they were intended to be presented as a gift.
Joan was trying to wipe out any paper trail that would make it possible for someone to find her.
A pregnant daughter stayed with her at the Maplehurst Inn.
The daughter came back into town a few years later, and probably died in a car accident.
Alice placed a steaming cup of cocoa on the coffee table beside Annie. “Have a breakthrough yet?”
“Not really.” The aroma of the cocoa made Annie’s mouth water. She pushed the list toward Alice. “One thing we need to verify: Was it Therese Marie who died in that accident? Plus, we don’t know for sure if Therese Marie is Joan’s daughter. Estelle thought the daughter’s last name was Gilkerson. She wasn’t sure.”
Alice tossed the list on the table. “You are forgetting a couple of things.”
“What?”
“Someone broke into your house at least twice, and someone left a threatening phone call.” Alice raised a finger as she counted off each item. “And someone looked through your purse when we were at the needlecraft fair.”
Annie smiled. At least Alice believed her. “And that someone must be watching me because they knew I had a stock certificate in my purse. But I don’t think they know I put the certificates in the bank, because the break-ins have continued.” She thought she had been followed that day, but the certificates had been concealed in the envelope. “I showed it to the Hook and Needle Club. I showed it to John at the bank. I may have taken it out at other times, too, all in very public places.”
“Once the infamous Stony Point rumor mill got started, it would have been all over town about you finding some stock certificates.”
“That first time I thought someone had been in my house was right after it was public knowledge about the certificates.” Annie took a sip of her cocoa. “So now we are into speculation. Maybe Joan did wipe out her identity, and she is living right here in Stony Point. She would have heard the rumors about the stock certificates. Something is keeping her from coming forward, but she could be the one breaking in, trying to get the stock.”
“The stock was issued to Therese.” Alice tucked her legs underneath her on the couch. “Therese is the one who could cash it in.”
“But Joan would be the one listed as the purchaser of the stock, unless she transferred it, in which case only Therese would have a claim on it. If that is the case, Joan’s name wouldn’t be on anything. It could be that Joan was going to transfer it after she presented it as a gift. The lady at Ocean Side Partners told me that information about who owned the stock was confidential,” Annie said.
Alice took another sip of cocoa. “What don’t we know?”
“We don’t know what happened to the baby that Joan’s daughter was about to have.” Annie ran her fingers through her wet hair. “We are assuming that the daughter is Therese Marie Gilkerson. She could be someone entirely different.”
“Are you saying it is a leap because they have different last names? But Estelle did say the daughter was married and that something happened to the husband. That would explain it.”
“I suppose you are right about that,” Annie said. “The other thing we don’t know is why they were in Stony Point in the first place. I think that is the key.” Annie leaned back, melting into the softness of the couch. “So where does that leave us?”
“You got me.” Alice shrugged and took a final swig of her cocoa. “Mike Malone has that collection of old Points. We can swing by there tomorrow and look through his newspapers to find out if it was Therese Marie Gilkerson who died in that accident. Mike is an encyclopedia about the local news. He might remember something.”
Annie rose to her feet and wandered toward a dark window. She crossed her arms over her body. “I do know one thing. I will welcome the day I can return those stock certificates to Joan or Therese or whoever has a claim on them.” In the distance, the huge silhouette of a dark Grey Gables loomed. “And I can have my house back.”
Clutching her empty cup, Alice came and stood beside Annie. “It’s still a beautiful house. Betsy made it a place of warmth and welcome, and you have done the same thing.”
Annie shook her head. “I don’t know about that. From little things like that silly mouse to big things like someone breaking in, it just doesn’t feel like it.”
Alice wrapped an arm around Annie’s back and gave her shoulder a squeeze.
Gratitude welled up in Annie. “Thanks for putting me up for the night.” She cast her gaze downward. No matter what, she had friends who were true treasures.
Alice gasped. The mug in her hand fell to the floor.
Annie’s head jerked up and followed the line of Alice’s gaze. “Oh dear.” Her hand fluttered to her neck. A single light in a high window of Grey Gables bounced across their field of vision. The intruder must have gone up to the attic to hide when the police officer searched the second floor. “If that is Joan, I’ve given her free rein to the whole house.”
“She won’t find any stock certificates there.” Alice bolted across the room. “We need to call the police.”
Annie grabbed her friend’s sleeve. “OK, but we need to get over there. By the time the police get here, the intruder could be gone.”
“What are you saying?”
“I want this settled. I’m tired of my house being Grand Central Station for a thief,” Annie insisted.
Alice shook her head.
“All we have to do is corner her. It’s two against one.” Annie glanced out the window. The light in the attic winked out and then appeared again. “We can call the police on the way over there. I don’t want her to get away.”
Alice’s eyes searched hers. Slowly, she nodded. “OK.”
She grabbed her coat and then raced to the kitchen drawer pulling something out. When she turned to face Annie, she was holding a hammer. “It’s the closest thing I have to a self-defense weapon.”
“Let’s go,” Annie said.
Alice handed Annie a jacket she had hung up in the hallway. The rain had abated, but the sun had set more than an hour ago. In the dark they dashed across the wet grass, slowing as they drew nearer the house. They stepped up on the porch, feet padding lightly. Annie pulled her key from her pocket and slid it into the doorknob “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Out of breath, Alice nodded and gripped her friend’s forearm. “I still need to call the police.”
Annie turned the key and twisted the doorknob.
Alice stepped back away from the door and looked up. “The light in the attic is gone. I can’t see anything.”
“Maybe she has moved back down to the second floor,” Annie whispered. She eased the front door open, wincing when it creaked.
Inside, they were greeted by near total darkness. She’d left a single lamp on in the living room, which allowed her to make out the outlines of furniture.
Alice pressed her hand against Annie’s back, her breathing audible in the silence.
Annie tilted her head. No noise came from the second floor. The pounding of her own heartbeat seemed louder than usual. She paced forward. One step. Two steps. Moonlight shone through the dining room window, washing the china cabinet in a warm light.
Alice hung close as they tiptoed toward the stairs.
A faint thud caused them both to stop. They tilted their heads. It had come from the second floor.
“She has to come down these stairs,” Annie whispered. Her mouth had gone completely dry. Her pulse drumming in ears clicked up to high volume. “All we have to do is wait here and grab her.”
“Hopefully, the police will get here before that.” In the darkness, the faint glow of Alice’s cell phone became visible.
An icy chill snaked down Annie’s back. What if they wouldn’t come? Two phone calls in one night claiming she had an intruder would at least make them move slower this time.
As Alice pressed the keypad, each number beeped like a hammer blow. Alice turned away and spoke in a low whisper. “This is Alice MacFarlane. I am at 1 Ocean Drive. And there is an intruder in this house.” Alice paused and then said, “No, I don’t want to stay on the line.” She clicked off her phone. “Now all we have to do is … wait.”
“Yes, wait.” Annie swallowed. She wiped her clammy hands on her jeans.
A scraping noise above them set both of them on high alert.
They’d assumed positions on opposite sides of the stairs. Annie probed her memory, trying to think of what was in the living room or dining room that would make it easier to catch and subdue the intruder. Alice still had her hammer. Where had she dropped the tennis racket? She didn’t want anyone to get hurt. All they had to do was detain the woman until the police arrived.
Above them, a door creaked open and a soft-soled shoe landed on the wooden stairs.
Annie’s breath hitched.
How long would it take the police to get here? If they came at all.
She couldn’t see Alice in the darkness. The faintest tap told her the intruder had stepped down another stair. Moving slowly. The intruder must have turned off her flashlight to avoid detection.
Annie held her breath. Every muscle in her body was tense. Each step of the intruder was like the beat in a funeral dirge as they waited at the bottom of the stairs. She gripped the wooden knob on the banister to steady herself.
The footsteps came a little faster.
A sudden flash of light. Annie raised her hands to her eyes.
They’d been spotted.
The intruder pushed past them. In the dark, Annie reached out, grasping fabric, sensing body heat. As quickly as she had located the intruder, she vaporized. Silence pressed on Annie’s ears, and then she detected soft footsteps moving quickly. She pivoted in the direction of the noise, crashing against another body.
Alice screamed. Something thudded against the floor. The hammer.
Annie collapsed to the floor. She scrambled across the carpet until she felt the leg of a table she knew had a lamp on it.
She clicked on the light just in time to hear the back door open and the intruder race out into the night.
“Alice.” Annie’s voice faltered.
“Yes.” Alice was out of breath.
Shock had spread through her, making her legs wobbly. “I couldn’t see real well, but I’m pretty sure our intruder was a man, not a woman.”
The flashing lights of the police siren appeared in the front window.
16
It was midmorning by the time Annie and Alice were finished giving their statements to Chief Edwards at the police station. With Alice to verify that someone had been in her house, the chief and Deputy Peters were taking the investigation very seriously. Cal Peters had stayed at her house to dust for fingerprints. Chief Edwards had assured her that it would take at least a week to process the prints they had found.
Alice and Annie walked out of the police station.
Despite a lack of sleep, Annie’s thoughts raced. “The more involved I become with this, the less sense it makes. Who was the man in my place last night?”
“Maybe Joan hired someone to get the stock certificates.” Alice pulled a compact out of her purse and reapplied her lipstick. “You did say she was trying to wipe out her identity. Maybe she was afraid of being recognized if she came back to Stony Point.”
Annie shook her head. “If the stock is still in Joan’s name, she doesn’t need the physical stock certificates to cash them in. Ocean Side Partners would have a record of her purchase. So even if she was in hiding, why would she hire someone to get them?”
“Something else is going on. Something we are missing.” Alice groaned and shook her head. “I can’t think straight on an empty stomach. Let’s go get some breakfast.”
As if on cue, Annie’s stomach growled. “Good idea. Malone’s will be open by the time we finish eating. We can see if Mike remembers that fatal car crash Estelle talked about.”
The Cup & Saucer was nearly empty when Alice and Annie stepped inside. The breakfast crowd had cleared out and the lunch crowd wouldn’t start to trickle in for another hour. The women settled into a booth.
Alice scooted her purse against the wall. “So tomorrow is the big day.”
So much had happened that Annie had completely forgotten about the ceremony at the hospital. “Yes, I still have some last-minute things to pull together, but it should be quite nice.” Tension knotted through her. If only the cloud of everything connected with those stock certificates weren’t hanging over her head.
Lisa set menus in front of them. “The cook is in the process of switching the grill over for lunch. I can do salad, sandwiches, or soup of the day, if you want a lunch item.”
Both of them ordered the chicken noodle soup and a ham and Swiss sandwich, which Lisa brought out right away. Over lunch, they divided up the calls that still needed to be made for the ceremony to come together.
Alice took a bite of her sandwich. “I will have a little time to swing by the hospital to see if my friend has any questions or needs anything.”
Annie sighed. Idly she picked up one of the saltshakers shaped like a cow and twirled it in her hand. “I was going to spend today finishing my contribution to the project and save the running around for tomorrow. But I can’t go home until Cal is done looking for fingerprints.”
“You can always go to A Stitch in Time to work.” Alice pushed her empty plate to one side.
“All my supplies are still at Grey Gables.” A heaviness, partly from fatigue and partly over the break-in, settled into Annie’s muscles.
Alice offered her friend a wink and pat on the hand. “Let’s go see if Mike has the copy of The Point we are looking for.”
Annie grabbed her purse. A problem always
seemed smaller when she did something about it. “Let’s go.”
They crossed Main Street and entered the hardware store. Mike Malone, perched halfway up a ladder, placed lightbulbs on a high shelf.
Annie approached him. “We need to look something up in your old editions of The Point, if that’s all right? Do you remember a fatal car crash that took place in the late 1990s?”
Mike stepped off the ladder and rubbed his forehead. “Sure, I think I do.” He crossed his arms and stared at the ceiling as though trying to pull the memory up. “That would have been 1998 or 1999 in the spring.”
The library had some copies of The Point, but they weren’t indexed, and they didn’t come with Mike’s wonderful memory.
Annie smiled. “Thanks, Mike. Let us know if you remember anything else.”
“Enjoy your search. Fiona’s been in there organizing.” He shook his head. “And now she’s talking about painting in there.”
Annie was heartened to hear that Mike’s wife had decided to organize his collection of old Points. While she was glad that Mike had taken it upon himself to archive a part of Stony Point history, his “system” wasn’t exactly something to write home about. “Follow me,” she said to Alice.
They stepped through a pine-paneled door. Though the room was still cluttered with boxes and equipment, it looked as though it had been dusted, and there were labels on the file cabinets.
Annie scanned the file cabinets until she found one that said 1995–1999. The Point was not a big paper, usually just one or two folded sheets or a little more if one of the stores was having a big sale or there was some special event in Stony Point. She opened the drawer, pulled out a stack, and handed half to Alice.
Annie found a wooden box to sit on.
Alice cautiously lowered herself into a lawn chair. “I hope this isn’t in here because it is broken.” She bounced slightly on it to check its stability.
“The accident would probably be front-page news, don’t you think?” Annie set the top newspaper, with a lead story about library renovations, to one side.
