Sweet Secrets (A Sweet Cove Mystery Book 3)

by J A Whiting

Jenna looked at one of the photographs. “This man is John Turner. Who is he with?”

  “Richard Wilson.” Courtney face lit up. “Could he be related to Paul Wilson, the historical society grouch?”

  Ellie looked confused. “Who?”

  Courtney filled Ellie in. “Paul Wilson worked his entire life at the town hall. He’s very wealthy. Tom told us that Wilson inherited money.”

  Angie added, “I wonder if Richard Wilson worked at the town hall too. If he did, then I bet he was paid by John Turner to get rid of the land records at the time the will was forged and the land was transferred to Sweet Cove in exchange for the land in Coveside. Richard Wilson was probably paid a pretty penny to get rid of land records and keep quiet about it. That could be the money that Paul Wilson inherited. We need to look up Richard Wilson and find out if he worked at the town hall.”

  “Where’s the other picture with names on the back?” Courtney pushed the pictures around on the table trying to find the one she wanted.

  Euclid nudged one of the photos towards Courtney. She picked it up. “Thanks, Euclid. Here it is. There are three men on a sailboat together. The back says, John, Richard, and William. So who’s William?”

  Jenna leaned forward. “I bet it’s the lawyer who helped John Turner create the forged will.”

  Courtney smiled. “You’re a genius. Now we need to find whatever Professor Linden discovered that indicated her father’s evil deeds. If Turner kept pictures to control the people in the photographs, then he must have kept important documents to use for blackmail.”

  “Like old land records?” Angie stood up. “The search begins.”

  Chapter 17

  “If the professor found some of her father’s documents, where would she have put them?” Angie tapped her chin.

  Jenna said, “When we first moved in here, I spent a lot of time going through the file cabinets in the upstairs den. I didn’t find anything I thought was odd or interesting. There were just things like tax documents, insurance papers, the usual things that people file away.”

  “Did you go through Professor Linden’s desk?” Ellie asked.

  “I went through everything in that room.” Jenna chuckled. “I didn’t check inside the walls though.”

  “Is there a safe anywhere in the house?” Ellie pondered. “We haven’t lived here long enough to have checked every inch of this house.”

  “I think we would have found a safe.” Jenna stood and stretched.

  Courtney scrambled out of her chair. “The attic. What’s up in the attic?”

  Euclid trilled and arched his back.

  “There’s a ton of stuff in the attic,” Angie said. “I just sort of glanced around up there when we first moved in.”

  “Let’s go up and see.” Courtney was already in the hallway before the others got out of their seats.

  “Just be quiet on the stairs,” Ellie called. “Don’t wake the guests.”

  When the girls reached the small landing at the top of the staircases, they stopped. Circe sat in front of the attic door, her tail moving slowly back and forth, her eyes alert, like she had been sitting there waiting for the sisters.

  “Have long have you been sitting here?” Courtney bent to scratch the black cat’s cheek. “You know, you could have just told us we should look in the attic.”

  Jenna shook her head. “She’s probably been timing us to see how long it took us to think of this.”

  “We need to pay more attention to what these cats are doing.” Angie smiled.

  Courtney opened the door and flicked the wall switch to light up the space. The attic was huge. There were pieces of furniture draped with cloths, framed paintings leaning against the walls, boxes, and old trunks scattered around the room. “So if you had something to hide, where would you put it?”

  “I’ll look for a safe.” Ellie walked gingerly about glancing from object to object. She lifted the cloth from one piece of furniture and peeked under it. She let the cloth fall back into place and wiped her fingers on her pajama leg. She continued to amble around.

  “I’ll see if there’s a desk somewhere.” Jenna proceeded to investigate the room.

  Courtney sidled up next to Angie. Her eyes flicked about. “Do you feel anything?”

  “Not yet. Do you?”

  Courtney gave her head a slight shake. “Should we just wander around? Try to pick up on anything?”

  Angie nodded.

  “You go that way.” Courtney gave her sister a nudge. “I’ll head this way.”

  After ten minutes of the girls moving around trying to find something the professor might have used to hide things in, Euclid gave a powerful shriek that caused everyone to jump.

  Ellie gave a cry. She clutched her arms about herself. “Why does he have to do that? Why?”

  “Where is he?” Angie looked all about.

  “Here.” Courtney called from a corner of the attic. “He’s over here.”

  They hurried to where Courtney stood. Euclid and Circe sat on the top of a huge, old, oak desk. There was an oil lamp on one corner. Several books were piled in the center of the desk and next to it was an old hand-held telescope.

  “Look, a spyglass.” Courtney lifted the object to her eye and turned it on her sisters and the cats. She giggled. “Can I keep this? It’s cool.”

  Jenna started to look through the drawers and cubby-holes of the desk. The last drawer she tried was locked. “Is there a key anywhere on the desk?”

  Ellie said, “I don’t see one. Why don’t we ask Tom to open it tomorrow?” She rubbed her eyes and yawned.

  “Let’s head to bed. We’ve all been up since before dawn,” Angie said.

  “Everyone except Jenna, you mean.” Courtney pointed the spyglass at her brunette sister. “Her face shows no signs of fatigue.”

  Jenna gave the small telescope a gentle nudge away from her face. “Go away.”

  “Enough sleuthing for today.” Angie led the group out of the attic.

  They headed to their bedrooms. Courtney carried her new possession under her arm.

  ***

  Angie and Jenna slept until after 10am. Ellie was up bright and early as usual to prepare breakfast for the B and B guests and Courtney left the house with Mr. Finch before 7am to head to the candy store. They wanted to make several batches of a new kind of fudge and then decide if they would add it to their repertoire of treats. The Finch and Roseland Confectioners would be officially open for business in just three days.

  The two sleepyheads stumbled downstairs and huddled in the kitchen for coffee, tea, and bowls of cereal. Because of the kitchen renovations, if they wanted something hot for breakfast, they had to go to one of the carriage house apartments to make it. Feeling lazy, the sisters opted for cereal and fruit.

  Jenna’s phone buzzed. “It’s Tom. He says he’s sick.”

  Angie poured milk into her cereal bowl. “That must be why he felt so hot and tired yesterday at the festival and at dinner. He was coming down with something.”

  “He wants to know if we can wait until he’s feeling better for him to open the attic desk drawer.”

  “Of course. We have plenty to do today. It can wait. Tell him I hope he feels better soon.” She dipped her spoon into her cereal bowl.

  Jenna tapped at her phone. She set it on the kitchen table and made a pouty face. “Tom won’t be able to come to the parade and beach clambake with us tonight.”

  “Then I’ll be your date.” Angie smiled and drops of milk slipped from her mouth and plopped onto the table top. “Oops.”

  Jenna set down her coffee cup. “Sorry, Angie. You’re too gross to be my date.”

  After breakfast, the girls showered and dressed and met in Jenna’s jewelry shop. Her inventory was severely limited now, since she’d sold so many pieces at the street festival the previous day. Angie had volunteered to assemble earrings and bracelets from Jenna’s designs to assist her in replenishing the stock. The girls worked at desks by the window and had gl
ass and sterling beads, silver findings, and small tools spread out in front of them.

  Circe’s compact body was scrunched up into a ball as she slept peacefully on Jenna’s desk. Euclid was curled on the corner of Angie’s work space. His huge raccoon-like orange and white tail practically covered the top of the desk. Angie had to push it gently to the side to have a bit of room to spread out the beads.

  Without lifting her head from her work, Angie asked, “I was thinking last night in bed. Do you think we should drop all this stuff about John Turner and the Robin’s Point land?”

  Jenna’s head popped up. “Why on earth would we do that?”

  Angie slid a silver clasp onto the end of the jewelry wire. “No matter the outcome of our investigating, it won’t help Nana. She won’t know about it. It won’t bring her back, and it won’t bring her any peace.”

  Jenna squeezed her pliers to crimp a bead onto the necklace she was making. She put the tool down on her desk and looked over at her sister. “Are you sure it won’t bring her any peace?”

  Angie met her sister’s gaze and then followed it when Jenna shifted her glance to the windowsill next to her desk. The glass jar that had been in the box of Nana’s things sat on the sill. Inside the jar, the pieces of sea glass shimmered in the sunlight.

  The corners of Angie’s mouth turned up. “You put Nana’s sea glass jar next to your desk.”

  “Watch the jar.”

  Angie gave her twin sister a questioning look.

  Jenna nodded her head at the jar. “Watch the sea glass.”

  Angie turned her eyes to the jar. The shapes and colors were striking. There were brown, dark green, and pale green pieces mixed inside the container. There were even some of the rarer colors, light blue, dark blue, and red. The light danced over the pieces that had been made smooth from tumbling in the ocean currents.

  Angie could feel her muscles warming and relaxing, she was so mesmerized by the play of light against the colors. Suddenly, the light seemed to separate into different colored bands like the arcs of a rainbow or long strands of different hued ribbons. The ribbons began to swirl inside the jar, slowly at first, and then picking up speed until the colors were lifting, dipping and twirling in arcs of light.

  A tiny gasp escaped from Angie’s mouth. As the colored ribbons of light slowed and returned to sparkling individual pieces of glass within the jar, she felt a flood of benevolence and well-being that warmed every fiber of her body. It was the way she felt when she was little and her Nana held her in her arms.

  “Nana,” she whispered. Angie stared at the jar for several more seconds, and then she blinked and turned to Jenna. Both cats sat on Jenna’s desk, their eyes glued to Angie. They trilled.

  “If we keep investigating, are you sure Nana won’t know?” Jenna gave her twin sister a soft smile. “Are you sure it won’t bring her any peace?”

  Chapter 18

  After working with Jenna in the jewelry room for several hours, Angie had to get some baking completed and delivered to some of the town restaurants before the parade started in the early evening. She headed to the carriage house kitchen to work. The cats went with her to keep her company. Angie put on music and sang along while she mixed the ingredients together. Sitting atop the refrigerator in their usual spots, the cats trilled now and then to accompany the beat.

  The door to the apartment opened and Courtney and Mr. Finch came into the kitchen area. “Hey, Sis. What’s cookin’?” She looked up at the cats. “Nice singing, you two.”

  Mr. Finch carried a small white candy box. “Hello, Miss Angie. What are you making this afternoon? It smells wonderful.”

  “I’m making three different kinds of cupcakes. The red velvets are baking right now. What’s in the box?”

  “We brought you some fudge samples to try. We think these are the best flavors.” Mr. Finch opened the box and Angie leaned down to sniff.

  “We want your opinion.” Courtney hopped up to sit on the countertop. “If you like them, then we’ll add them to our bag of tricks.”

  “She means,” Mr. Finch translated, “that we will sell them in the candy store.”

  Angie winked at Finch. “Somehow I understand her.”

  Mr. Finch placed two fudge squares on a plate. “Help yourself. Your honest opinion, please.”

  The first square was cream-colored fudge with caramel swirl on top. Angie lifted the piece, gave it a sniff, and bit into it. She moaned with pleasure. “Delicious. So creamy.”

  “It’s crème brulee fudge.” Courtney was pleased with her sister’s reaction.

  “It will be a big seller.” Angie licked her fingers. “What’s this kind?” She eyed the second square.

  Mr. Finch answered. “Cappuccino fudge with cinnamon sprinkled on top.”

  Angie took a bite and the creamy consistency rolled over her tongue like velvet. “Oohh.” She closed her eyes and took another bite of the square. “Wonderful. Two huge successes.”

  Courtney jumped down from her seat on the counter and high-fived Mr. Finch.

  “I must have these recipes.” Angie ran her forefinger over the plate in order to scoop up the last smudges of fudge. She licked her fingertip.

  Courtney narrowed her eyes. “You know these are secret recipes.”

  “I’m your sister.”

  “Ignore her,” Courtney told Mr. Finch. She went to the stove and made two cups of tea. She brought one to her candymaking partner who sat at the small table watching Angie finish her baking tasks.

  “Did Tom open that desk drawer in the attic?” Courtney placed sugar and milk on the table.

  “Tom’s sick.” Angie removed a tray of cupcakes from the oven and placed them on the counter to cool. “He’ll do it as soon as he feels better.”

  “I brought Mr. Finch up to speed on what’s been going on with the land records and John Turner’s dealings.” Courtney took a sip from her mug. “I told him about the historical society grouch and how he worked at the town hall for years and might be related to someone who was an associate of Turner. And that we’re suspicious of how he ended up being such a wealthy man.”

  “Some people are capable of terrible things.” Finch thought of his own brother and his awful deeds. He looked at the two girls in the kitchen. “And other people are as good as gold. Better than gold.”

  Angie smiled at Finch and gave his arm a squeeze as she walked past him to the refrigerator.

  “Would you like me to take a look at that locked desk drawer, Miss Angie?”

  “Do you think you can open it?” Angie used her pastry bag to swirl frosting on the cupcakes. She placed them in her carrying cases for delivery. “I’ll be done in here in a few minutes. I just need to clean up and then we can go to the attic and have a look at the desk.”

  Courtney had already filled the sink with soapy water and was beginning to wash the bowls and muffin tins.

  When Angie realized that Courtney had started the cleanup she said, “You are a wonderful sister.”

  Courtney rubbed the tins clean. “Sweet talking me will not get you those fudge recipes.”

  ***

  Angie said, “There are an awful lot of steps to get up to the attic, Mr. Finch. Maybe we should just wait for Tom to feel better.”

  “If we go up slowly, I’ll be able to manage.” Mr. Finch grasped the banister and started up the stairs to the second floor of the Victorian.

  “If you get tired, we’ll rest on the steps.” Courtney followed behind the older man. She carried a small toolbox.

  At the landing, they walked down the hallway to the next flight of stairs that would take them to the attic. “Do you need to rest, Mr. Finch?”

  “I’m managing quite well. Onward and upward.”

  When they reached the top, Angie opened the attic door, and the three stepped in.

  “That was invigorating,” Finch said. “Where is this desk with the locked drawer?”

  Courtney led the man to where the desk stood. “Here it is. It’s th
e bottom drawer.” She looked about the space. “Maybe I can find you a box or something to sit on so you won’t need to bend so far over.” She found a small footstool, carried it to where Mr. Finch stood, and helped him ease down to sitting position.

  Angie placed the toolbox next to Finch. He rummaged around and removed a tiny screwdriver which he inserted into the lock. As he twisted the tool with one hand, he pulled gently on the handle.

  Angie glanced around. “The cats didn’t come up.”

  “Hmmm.” Courtney watched Mr. Finch’s manipulations of the lock. “If the cats aren’t interested, then this might not lead to anything.”

  “Ah. Here we are.” Mr. Finch opened the drawer. It was empty. “Oh.” The tone of his voice revealed his disappointment.

  “Well, we tried.” Courtney slipped her hand under Finch’s arm and hoisted him to his feet. “Nice lock picking skills.”

  “I’ve picked up some useful knowledge in my many years.” He looked down at the drawer. “Too bad there wasn’t anything helpful in there.”

  “It’s okay. It was worth a try anyway.” Angie lifted the toolbox and they made their way slowly down the steps. Mr. Finch went off to his room on the second floor. Angie headed to pack up the baked goods and make her deliveries, and Courtney walked down the hall to Jenna’s jewelry shop to see if she needed any help putting her designs together.

  ***

  After making her deliveries, Angie pulled her car into the parking area of the Sweet Cove Public Library. She hurried up the stone steps and into the lobby hoping she would have time to access some old records before the building closed for the day. She wanted to take a look at some prior years’ town reports. Among other information, each annual report listed the names of all town employees. She hoped to discover if the man named Richard Wilson, who stood next to John Turner in the old photograph, had happened to work in the town hall during the time Turner was manipulating land records.

  She approached the information desk and the librarian escorted her to the section of the room that housed the records. Angie removed several years worth of reports that corresponded to the dates when John Turner stole the Robin’s Point land right out from under his sister, Forsythia. She turned the yellowed pages, and there it was. Richard Wilson was listed as the town clerk during the years that Turner swapped land with the town, trading the property on Robin’s Point for the area that was now Coveside.