by Suzi Weinert
“Then I gotta go.”
“Here, I’ll lock the door after you,” Jennifer offered, following him to the porch. When they were out of earshot of the others, she added, “You started to tell me about Venuti earlier.”
He looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, but this isn’t the place. How about next time I see you?” His phone rang. “Sorry, I gotta take this…. Yeah. Yeah…. When…? Who…? Birdsong? That’s a real name…? Okay, I’m on the way.”
“Wait a minute. I know a John Birdsong. He’s the link between William Early and me. Has…has something happened to him?”
“You say you know him? And he’s connected to this man you’re afraid of?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll come right back to see you as soon as I finish with…with this development.”
Back at home, they found Becca at her laptop. “Catching up on my job search,” she explained. “Peggy’s gone for the day. I double checked windows and doors and distributed wasp spray cans around the house so we have one in most rooms here and several for the hotel suite.”
“Good work, honey, since it’s our default weapon of choice,” Jennifer said.
“Any plans for dinner?” Becca wondered.
“How about BhaBha?” Grammy suggested. “Do you like Persian food?”
“Absolutely. What time?”
“Six o’clock sound good?” Jennifer suggested.
“I’ll make the reservation for two,” Becca offered.
“But we’re three, not two,” Grammy pointed out.
“You are the two. I’m having dinner with Tony.” She grinned. “He’ll be here in an hour. But you don’t have to wait for him if you want to go to the hotel sooner. Beautiful as your house is, Grammy, the hotel’s ocean view is even better.”
Grammy eyed her granddaughter. “But should we leave you two here alone?”
“Old fashioned rules, Gram. These are modern times.”
“That’s what the young always say, but some things never change.”
Jennifer picked up her keys. “Come on, Mom. Off to the hotel and dinner.”
Becca grinned and called after them, “Blessed are the mischief makers for they shall always wear smiles.”
CHAPTER 64
After a dreamless night, Wednesday dawned a perfect Naples day-pleasant summer temperature, warm gentle breezes skimming the placid Gulf of Mexico as wavelets lapped the hotel’s beach shoreline.
Jennifer let Peggy’s group into Grammy’s house at 9:00, reminding them to admit no one without specific permission. Moreover, the day unfolded peacefully, in sharp contrast to the recent chaotic fare they’d almost come to accept as “normal.”
“Let’s all go to the beach,” Becca suggested. Once ensconced in a cabana’s shade, she asked an agreeable passer-by, “Would you please take a picture of three generations having fun together?” Eyeing Becca, the beach-walker willingly agreed.
That night they dined at the hotel, sipped wine while watching the sunset, whooping at the shared sight of a green flash. Later in bed, they slept long and well.
But the next day unfolded very differently.
While Peggy’s people prepped on Thursday, the last day before the estate sale’s start, the three of them skipped off to Grammy’s regular weekly salon appointment with Chelsea, where they beautified and schmoozed.
“Chelsea, do you feel up to telling us what happened with Max Roderick?”
“The nasty story I’m trying to forget?”
“Well,” Grammy touched her arm gently, “don’t if you’re uncomfortable. But remember, we share your involvement with this scary man… and Jennifer played a role…”
“You’re right,” Chelsea acknowledged. “I still can hardly believe it really happened.”
“Could you just walk us through it, step by step?”
Chelsea nodded, protectively crossing her arms across her chest. She spoke in a small voice. “Goodwin told me Roderick slit the screen door, unlocked the handle and broke into my kitchen. I heard nothing until he appeared in the living room, where I sat watching television.
I recognized him immediately. On the inside, I panicked hysterically, but on the outside, I tried to act casual. I go, ‘Hi. Can I do something for you?’
“He goes, ‘Do you know who I am?’
“I say, ‘No, afraid I don’t, but beer is in the fridge.’ He didn’t expect this so he got a beer and sat down in front of the TV.
“I thought maybe I could bluff my way through this, but then he says, ‘You got a beauty shop customer named Frances Ryerson?’”
“I go, ‘I remember their appointments, not their names.’
“He goes, ‘You let her borrow your cellphone last time she was in?’ Now he’s sitting forward in the chair, but I stayed relaxed.
“Not likely. Way too many customers to do that.’
“Then he goes, ‘My girlfriend saw her take your phone to the ladies’ room where she made a call that ruined a deal I was running.’
“‘Oh,’ I said, trying to look surprised, ‘I don’t remember that. Sure your girlfriend gave you the right story?’ That surprised him. I pretended to look at TV but watched him out of the corner of my eye. He was getting agitated and I knew he meant trouble. I couldn't get to my pepper spray in the bedroom. The time would come very soon to run for my life. But then the phone rang and it was you, Jennifer. I tell you my hair color story, which really means I’m in serious danger. Thank God, you understood and called the cops.”
She grabbed a tissue, wiped away tears and blew her nose.
“And before the police arrived?” Grammy nudged gently.
“I asked him was he from around here, if he had a favorite watering hole or restaurant. He didn’t take the bait. I said I hadn’t seen him around but did he live nearby. I steeled myself to try anything to buy time for someone to save my life. I asked him to get me a beer. He did. When he handed it to me, he ran his fingers over my cheek.
“I invited him to sit down by me on the couch to watch TV. I asked what shows he liked. He didn’t answer but I knew he looked at me differently now than when he came in, sizing me up now for sex before he killed me. I asked him what kind of music he liked.
“To my surprise that got him talking but when that banter ended, he leaned over and kissed me. Now I’m praying Cliff will storm in and shoot him, but no, his hands went all over me. If I rejected him, I knew he’d kill me. So I…I let him do stuff to buy time.
“But then he kissed me again and this time his hands fastened around my neck and squeezed. Choking for breath, I kicked him you-know-where and when he doubled over, I ran for the door. But he recovered and grabbed me before I got outside. He looped something around my throat and pulled it tight from behind.
“I tried to fight but I couldn’t get at him behind me and—they told me later—I passed out. Next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital.”
Quiet permeated the beauty shop because everyone had strained to eavesdrop on this emotional story.
Jennifer jumped up to hug Chelsea, whose tears appeared again.
“It was the scariest thing in my whole life,” she cried into Jennifer’s shoulder.
“It’s over now and you helped capture a really dangerous criminal,” Becca reminded her.
Chelsea whispered in Jennifer’s ear. “Thanks also, Jen, for introducing me to Cliff Goodwin. He…he promised earlier to look out for me. Because he did and from what I learned in the self-defense class he suggested, I fought back instead of giving up. If I hadn’t, I’d be dead instead of here today.”
Jennifer whispered back, “My mother suffered too, Chelsea, but you both stood up to him. That’s why he’s in jail.”
When the three women returned home from the beauty shop, Goodwin sat in his cruiser at the curb. Putting down his phone, he asked them, “Got a few minutes?”
They welcomed him inside and went to the lanai to evade Peggy’s taggers.
“What can you tell me about John Birdso
ng?” he asked.
Grammy described her Civil War Study Group connection. Jennifer explained consulting him about the cloths she’d found in Virginia and his offer to put out feelers for more information.
“I don’t know him at all, but why are you asking us?” Becca wondered.
“He’s dead and I want to find out why,” Goodwin responded.
“He’s dead?” Jennifer gasped.
“Oh, no.” Grammy collapsed into a chair, visibly shaken. “His poor wife…”
Jennifer remembered, “John said his wife was visiting her mother for a week, so he was home alone.”
“Yeah, we reached the wife. His death looked like a bizarre accident but when you,” he nodded to Jennifer, “told me he’s connected to this man you’re afraid of, I did a re-take.”
Tears filled Grammy’s eyes. “I can’t believe it. John was such a nice person. He and his wife were our friends for years. My husband liked him, and he gave Jennifer information for her research.”
Touching her mother’s shoulder to comfort her, Jennifer added, “Early said his associates connected me to John by hacking his e-mails and phones. They even talked to my McLean neighbors to find out where I am. He offered to buy the map and riddle for $200,000, but I said I had nothing for sale. He gave me the creeps and I asked him to leave and not return.”
“So you didn’t tell this William Early guy you owned such items, never mind showing them to him?”
Jennifer licked her lips. “No, but what if Early thought John had seen them? Might he want to learn what John knew?”
Becca looked confused. “You called this death a bizarre accident, Deputy. What does that mean?”
“Looked like someone tried persuading him to talk first, though that’s not the cause of death.”
“What is?” Grammy asked.
“Venomous snake bite.”
“What?” Becca jerked her feet off the floor and tucked them protectively underneath her in the chair.
“Yeah, we found an eastern diamondback rattler closed up with him in a small bathroom at his house.”
“Murder by snake?” Becca wailed. Her wide-open eyes searched the floor for slithery movements.
“Becca’s terrified of snakes,” Jennifer explained. “But what did you mean by someone trying to persuade John to talk?”
“Besides four snake bites he had some body bruising and several smashed fingernails —maybe unrelated to his death, maybe not.”
Jennifer tried to put it together. “Do you think because I refused to give Early information, he tortured John Birdsong to learn what he knew about my map and riddle?”
Becca huddled back into her chair. “And part of that torture was shutting John in a small space with a…a poisonous snake?” She shivered.
Jennifer calculated. “Closing him in the room with a big snake could frighten him into talking. And when his tormenters finished with him, the scene implied accidental snakebite death instead of murder.”
Goodwin sighed. “I gotta consider every explanation for what we find at a crime scene. You’ve described one scenario.”
“Wait a minute,” Jennifer said. “A few days ago Becca got a bad scare from an eastern diamondback in our garage.” She fumbled in her purse for the “Florida Snakes” book she’d earlier hidden there. “This says diamondbacks are common in Florida, meaning two snake events related to us and people we know could be coincidence. Or could these two encounters mean someone interested in my relics has access to such snakes?”
Becca’s face contorted into a grimace of fear. Her voice rose two octaves and she cried out, “That was a rattlesnake in the garage with me?” She curled into a ball in her chair, whimpering. Jennifer rushed over to soothe her daughter as Goodwin rose to go.
“I don’t believe in coincidence,” he called over his shoulder as he left.
CHAPTER 65
Peggy’s group arrived at 8:00 to start the weekend estate sale. “We put a box of numbers on the front porch for buyers who’ll line up when the sale opens at 9 o’clock,” she explained to Jennifer and Becca. “Friday’s technically a weekday, but usually very popular because it’s the first day. And dealers will come today.”
As her associates fanned out into each room to assist customers and deter sticky-fingers, Peggy continued. “I notice Mrs. Ryerson isn’t here with you.”
“No, she’s not psyched up yet to watch her belongings go to strangers. Maybe tomorrow.”
“I understand. Will you and Becca stay?”
“Not the whole time, but we’ll drop back periodically. You and your team have arranged everything well and tagged every item. That’s a big job in a house this full.”
“We’ve had a lot of experience and enjoy what we do.”
Jennifer thought about Early and his minions. “You’ll use only the front door for traffic?”
“Yes, unless someone needs to load furniture in the driveway. Then we’d open the garage briefly for that purpose.”
Foolish for Jennifer to say they didn’t want strangers in the house, because everyone shopping the estate sale was a stranger. She sighed.
Peggy opened the door promptly at 9:00 and the first twenty buyers in line streamed inside. Some asked immediately about an item they’d seen in the online photos describing the sale while others roamed, picking up and carrying smaller items they fancied lest someone else get them. For large items, they quickly cornered a sales person to attach “sold” signs before they’d paid at the cashier table. Peggy greeted many by nod or name, including dealers she knew or regulars who followed her company’s sales each week.
Sales moved at a brisk pace indoors while cars on the street outside jockeyed for parking spaces.
Jennifer went upstairs to assure herself the low bookcase in the master bedroom remained in front of the wall-safe, clearly marked NFS.
One of Peggy’s helpers found Jennifer. “There’s a young man at the door who wants to see you.”
Jennifer hurried down where the boy waited. “Good morning, Georgie. What do you think of all this excitement?”
“Okay, I guess, but he was here last night.”
“Who was here?”
“A man in your yard, walking around to the back of the house.”
With Roderick in jail, Jennifer suspected he invented this for a chocolate reward. “Did you recognize him?”
“Yes and no.”
“What does that mean exactly, Georgie?”
“Yes, because I also saw him in your yard the day before and no, because he isn’t the bad man in the picture.”
What could explain this? Jennifer wondered. Maybe one of William Early’s so-called “associates,” casing the house for a way inside to steal her map and riddle?
“When was this, Georgie?”
“My bedtime’s nine o’clock on summer nights. My bedroom window faces your house. Sometimes I don’t fall asleep right away, so I look out the window. The last two nights were real dark by ten and the moon was out. There he was, both nights.”
“Come with me. Let’s see if he left any clues. Please show me exactly where he walked.”
“Hi, Georgie,” Becca called as he scampered ahead. He gave the come-along gesture as she and Jennifer hurried behind him. “What are we doing, Mom?”
“Georgie says he saw a man he didn’t recognize in our yard two nights in a row. Maybe we can figure out why.”
At the back door, they saw scratches on the lock as if someone tried opening it with wires or tools. Also, pry marks on several lower windows.
“The security alarm signs in the front probably deterred him from breaking a window to trip the signal.” Jennifer gave a dry laugh. “Little did he know that wouldn’t have triggered our particular system, which we learned only because of Georgie’s dad’s mistake.”
“We should tell Cliff Goodwin about this.” They started to go inside when Georgie cleared his throat meaningfully.
“Ah, thanks for reminding me.” Becca pulled a handful of choc
olates from her pocket. “You earned these, young man.”
He smiled broadly as the candies fell into his hand. ”Gee, thanks,” he beamed before trotting away.
They sat in the gazebo as Jennifer dialed. “Hello, Deputy. We have some news for you.” She described their discovery.
“I’ll get there soon, but a lot going on right now. Maybe an hour? Maybe more. Okay?”
“Just call my cell when you’re ready, and if we’re back at the hotel, we’ll meet you at the house. And thanks, Deputy.”
“Let’s take another walk around the sale and then rescue Grammy at the hotel,” Becca suggested and Jennifer agreed.
When Deputy Goodwin arrived at the house three hours later, they welcomed him inside. “Can I buy stuff at your sale, too?” he joked.
“Anything you can’t resist,” Jennifer laughed.
“First, how about showing me what you found.”
They did.
“Yeah, looks like an attempted B&E.”
“B&E?” Becca asked.
“Breaking and Entering. Roderick’s in the can so maybe somebody wants to shop your estate sale without paying for what he buys?”
“Or maybe William Early’s men are trying to find what he wants inside,” Jennifer suggested.
“You got something in there he wants?”
The women exchanged looks. “I made copies of the writing on the cloths, of the riddle and map. The copies are upstairs in the safe, but the original cloths are at my home in McLean.”
“I guess you got other valuable stuff here too, because you asked me how to travel safe with it. When do you clean out the safe and go north?”
“Monday morning we say goodbye for the last time.”
“This is Friday so you have three more days here.”
They nodded.
“What kind of safe?”
“Gosh, I don’t know the brand. A big one. Want to see it?”
“Yeah.”
“By the way,” Jennifer opened the door for them to go in, “any news about what happened to our friend, John Birdsong?”
