Miz Scarlet and the Vanishing Visitor (A Scarlet Wilson Mystery)

by Sara M. Barton

  Chapter Nine --

  “When it rains, it pours,” I responded. It was true. The way things were looking, we were going to need a really big umbrella.

  “Listen, I’m coming up there. In the meantime, keep Jenny home. Don’t let her out of your sight. Maybe you should give Larry a call.”

  “I might just do that,” I agreed. “Drive safely. Get here in one piece.”

  Larry was a homicide detective I met when a couple of inn guests were murdered a couple of months ago. They were only at the Four Acorns Inn as part of a plot to ruin Bur and me. I had no way of knowing that the secret affair I had with an eco-terrorist was less about love and all about hate for the Googins family history. It turned out the guy was a serious tree-hugger, who took exception to our family involvement in the forestry business. His own secret was well buried with the skeletons of his long-dead relatives. When Larry showed up with some of her colleagues to investigate, we ended up being friends. Named after her father, she was all business on the job and didn’t take any crap from anyone, male or female, but off the job, she was a hoot. She could also drink me under the table on our girls’ nights out.

  She picked up the phone on the second ring, and I heard that dry chuckle in my ear. “Well, well. What did the cat drag in this time? I haven’t heard from Miz Scarlet in some time. You must be in trouble, girl.”

  Larry can be very accurate, even when she isn’t trying. I heaved a great sigh.

  “Oh, come on! You can’t be serious. What did you do this time?” she demanded. I gave her the short version. “Damn. It sounds like you picked a kid just like you! Do you have any idea how many cases I’m working on right now?”

  “Yeah, but at least with this one, you don’t have a stiff yet,” I shot back. I heard a moment of silence, followed by a very loud belly laugh.

  “Give me half an hour. And you damn well better feed me something good for lunch, Miz Scarlet.”

  “Lobster? Filet mignon?” I offered.

  “Anything but tuna. That stuff is nasty!”

  Bur was relieved when I told him Larry was on her way. I think part of that was due to the fact that Larry really is gorgeous -- coal black ringlets that shine, skin the color of café au lait, and a very lean, well-shaped body that she hones at the local gym. My brother has a thing for good-looking women, but most of all he loves a challenge. Larry had his number the first time she met him, and she keeps him on his toes, totally immune to his charm. She earned his respect by the way she handled things on the case of the imposing imposter. Most of her fellow Connecticut state troopers call her a cop’s cop. When she digs in, and narrows down the list of possible suspects, she doesn’t stop until she corners the guilty guy. Grown men fear her, even the men on her team. She deliberately carries only hot pink Bics with her, not because she’s a girly girl. She says it’s the only way she can be sure they will keep their grubby paws off her pens.

  Bur and Laurel kept Jenny company in the living room, watching “The Price Is Right” while I made lunch. Lacey was off for the day with her latest conquest, Raphael Rodriguez, who insisted on taking her to an authentic meal at Cuba Libré, owned by one of his buddies. Two of our guests, Ms. Bagdadi and Mrs. Werther, had left early in the morning for the Connecticut Shore, to take in the exhibits at the Florence Griswold Museum in Old Lyme. They weren’t expected back until dinner time. Lucille Wymans, retired elementary school music teacher, was at a luncheon reception with former classmates from the Hartt School of Music. Eric Plouffe was at a meeting in Hartford. With the guests all safely out of the way, I was hoping we could wrap this case up quickly, before there was any more nonsense.

  Larry arrived just after the chicken came off the range top grill. I let the meat rest while I answered the door. Dressed in a pair of soft lime green slacks, a white linen jacket, a turquoise silk tank top, and sandals in turquoise snakeskin leather, she looked like the Caribbean equivalent of a hot female cop. I caught a whiff of “Romance” as I leaned in for a hug and a double-cheek air kiss. Ralph Lauren eau de parfum, recently applied.

  “New boyfriend,” I decided drolly. She slyly evaded eye contact, so I knew I hit pay dirt.

  “No time today, sister. Now, where’s the wild child?” she asked, quickly changing the subject. He must be a keeper if she wasn’t talking.

  “In the living room.”

  I made the introductions, explaining to Jenny that Larry was considered a family friend and was stopping by for lunch, and then I excused myself to head out to the kitchen, arriving just in time. Scrub Oak was pacing round and round in tight circles just below the grilled chicken. I shooed the cat away, only to find two hungry dogs under foot. Slicing the meat, I arranged it on top of baby field greens, added some shredded cheddar cheese, cherry tomatoes, shredded carrots, cucumber slices, and avocado. I pulled out some ciabatta bread, sliced it thinly with a serrated knife, buttered each piece, and plated the final result. When everything was on the table, I called the gang to the dining room.

  “Oh, my favorite,” said Larry, eyeing the meal with the enthusiasm of a dedicated foodie. “You have any of that Champagne vinaigrette?”

  “I do.”

  We chatted as we ate, avoiding the big subject. I watched Larry watch Jenny, and I knew she was trying to get a handle on the teenager. By the time I brought out the fruit salad and raspberry sherbet, the homicide investigator was rather quiet. That usually meant she had something on her mind and she was seeking an opening in the wall she wanted to bring tumbling down.

  Laurel and Bur excused themselves. Bur had work to do back in his office in the carriage house and my mother had calls to make as chairwoman of the White Oak Hill Park Conservation Society. Larry, Jenny and I stayed at the table, and I poured another round of coffee. That’s when Larry made her move, pouncing faster than a conniving jaguar on an unsuspecting gazelle.

  “How long are you going to keep lying to Miz Scarlet here?” Those dark eyes lit on the teenager and stayed put.

  “What?” For one moment, she looked rather stunned and the next, her face went white. Jenny looked like she was going to throw up. The state trooper moved in for the kill.

  “You’re keeping secrets from her.”

  “I...I....” She looked at me, then back at Larry, and once more at me. “Um....”

  “Jenny, we can’t help you if we don’t know the truth,” I said gently. Larry had no problem with me playing good cop. She slapped her hand on the table for emphasis.

  “I want the whole truth, girlie!”

  “I...I...but....”

  “Jenny,” I tried again, “we need to know. That man didn’t just happen to come here today. He was here because of you.”

  “Oh, you’re going to be so mad at me!” That started the waterworks. Larry wasn’t having any of it. She leaned in, her face just inches from Jenny’s, and practically spit out the words.

  “We can do this here, or we can go down to the station and get it done there. What’s it going to be?”

  “I’m so sorry, Scarlet,” she sobbed. “I didn’t mean to lie to you. It’s just that you said I shouldn’t hold anything back, but I did, and then you said you didn’t want me to do anything illegal, but I already had, so I just didn’t tell you because I knew you’d be mad.”

  “What the hell is she babbling about?” Larry snarled.

  “I don’t have a clue,” I admitted. As the investigator moved in again, I reached past her, grabbed Jenny by the hands, and pulled her towards me. And then, when I was sure I had her complete attention, I spoke as softly as I could. The sobbing girl stopped long enough to listen to me. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

  “You know that soap?”

  “Yes,” I nodded.

  “I have four more bars of it.”

  “Holy mother of pearl!” I howled. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  “What is she talking about?” said the irate woman sitting at my side. “This is about soap?”

&nbs
p; “There are uncut diamonds embedded in the soap, Larry, from an unsolved jewelry heist in New York City.”

  “Oh, looks like I’m really going to clean up on this case, if you’ll pardon the pun. Let’s go get that soap. It’s rub-a-dub-dub time.”

  “Um....”

  “Crap, are you going to tell me you lost it?” she growled, glaring at the teenager.

  “Oh, no. I’ve got the soap. I swear!”

  “Then what?” The state trooper’s patience with the teenager was wearing thin.

  “You know that laptop I told you about?” Even as Jenny asked the question, my heart was dropping into my stomach. Hello, heartburn. “I tossed it in the bushes back in Bay Head, but first I made a copy of the files on a USB stick.”

  “You copied Richie’s computer files?” My mind raced over the implications. She had the information. That, and the diamonds, might be what the masked man was after, and he was willing to kill to get them. Jenny’s eyes grew big, filled with tears, and she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, the teenage equivalent of thumb-sucking, no doubt.

  “Who’s Richie?” Larry wanted to know.

  “The dead guy who washed up on the Jersey Shore.”

  “I’m guessing someone whacked him.” That’s the trouble with homicide cops. They can usually smell a murder a mile away.

  “You’re guessing right,” I admitted. Jenny’s eyes never left my face. She was terrified. “Do you still have the USB stick?”

  “Yes.” Tiny voice, like she wanted to disappear under the table until the adults weren’t mad any more.

  “Jenny,” I said softly, kindly, “I’m not kicking you out.”

  “But you said....”

  “I understand why you did what you did. Is there anything else you haven’t told us?”

  “Um, no.” She made eye contact, but then looked away. I was pretty sure she was mostly telling the truth. As sure as you can be with teenage orphans who are afraid their lives are completely spinning out of control.

  “Let’s go get that stuff, so Larry can check it all out.”

  “Is she going to arrest me?”

  “Larry?” I chuckled softly and shook my head. “I didn’t invite her here to grill you, kiddo. I invited her here to keep us company until Kenny could get here, just in case that guy came back.”

  “But if you lie to me again,” Larry warned, “I might just throw you in a holding cell until you come to your senses.”

  Jenny quivered like a five-year-old who got caught taking an extra lollipop from the candy jar, and suddenly Larry reached over and patted her on the knees. “Buck up, kid. Take a breath. You’re going to be fine. Now, show Auntie Larry the goodies. I’m dying to see these diamonds of yours. Never seen uncut diamonds.”

  “Pretty rocks,” I assured her. “Worth a small fortune.”

  There were four more bars of organic soap, but they weren’t all purple. One was pink, one was green, and one was almost indigo.

  “Who ever heard of dark soap?” Larry asked. “I mean, I get the purple and the green. At least you can sort of see through them. But indigo? Most people will feel dirty washing with such a colorful bar.”

  She had a point, I thought to myself. It did seem unusual. We were up in my sitting room, the three of us. I grabbed that midnight blue soap and went to the window. Holding it up to the light, I thought I saw a glimmer of something shiny, a tiny flicker of sunlight through the bar.

  “Hold on,” I sighed. “I think these are cut stones.”

  “Let me see.” Larry took it from me to examine. Her eyes narrowed as she turned it back and forth in the light, and then they grew wide. “Well, slap my ass and call me Fanny! Who’d a thunk it?”

  “What?” Now Jenny was interested in having a peek. “Wow!”

  “Give me that green one,” the homicide investigator directed me. I placed it in her hand. “See here? Check this out, Miz Scarlet. Is that an emerald? Looks like about two carats, cut.”

  “It means they weren’t just embedding the uncut stones in the soap. Were there other robberies?”

  “Must have been. If I had to guess, I’d say these four bars of soap are easily worth more than forty grand.”

  “And Jenny had a full backpack of them.”

  “Richie said he and his friends were going to really clean up nicely.” That came from the peanut gallery, and Larry and I immediately turned our attention to the teen. “It would make the gift business a real success.”

  “What gift business?”

  “They were going to sell them in baskets with other items. You know, like lotions, hand creams....”

  “I thought you told Sarge everything,” I said with a voice that dripped disappointment all over the girl.

  “But I couldn’t, could I? If I had, I’d have had to tell him about these bars.” Excuses, excuses.

  “Sarge only thinks the uncut stones are in the purple bars,” I informed Larry. “He’s going to be royally pissed when he finds out.”

  “You know, Miz Scarlet, it’s pretty significant that the masked man tried to enter the Four Acorns Inn. That tells me these stones are worth a pretty penny. But he came in the daytime. Why?”

  “I don’t follow you.”

  “Why not sneak in at night, when everyone is sleeping? Most jewel thieves are not violent, and normally, they operate as lone wolves or with a single partner, and maybe a source of information.”

  “Okay. What’s your point?”

  “These guys are either not experienced jewel thieves or they’re up to some other game.”

  “I’d guess not experienced jewel thieves. Richie was the muscle. Jenny stole his laptop, trying to get him to pay her,” I explained. Larry turned and studied the teenager a moment before she leaned forward, balancing her fanny on the edge of the sofa.

  “Give me the blow-by-blow of what went down when you took that laptop.”

  “Richie said he’d kill me if I didn’t give it back.”

  “How did he even know you had it?” she shot back. Jenny’s eyes grew wide as she wracked her brain for an answer and came up with one that surprised her.

  “I don’t know, because he didn’t see me take it.”