Gypped

by Carol Higgins Clark

  “They cleared out,” Regan said, “except for the cups.”

  “I bet we wouldn’t find any trace of a sedative in those,” Norman sniffed.

  “OKAY, THAT’S A WRAP!”

  “That’s the director, Frank,” Maggie told them. “He’s really nice. I feel sorry for him.”

  “Would you introduce us?” Regan asked.

  “Sure.”

  Frank Bird was tall and attractive, with dark hair and a boyish face. He was wearing jeans, a black T-shirt, and a baseball cap. When Maggie made the introduction he was friendly, but preoccupied, and seemed stressed out. When he heard Rich and Heather had been arrested, he became even more so. “I knew it!” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m afraid that all these people won’t get paid.”

  “One way or the other we’ll make sure they do,” Zelda told him.

  Frank turned to her and suddenly took notice. There’s something about her, he thought. And she’s so pretty.

  “I want to have a wrap party at my house tomorrow night,” Zelda continued. “Anyone who survived working with Rich and Heather should help celebrate their downfall.”

  Frank gently touched her arm. “I’ll be there.”

  “Great. Let’s get everyone’s attention.”

  When they got back in the car, Zelda looked at her watch. “My father must have gotten to the house a while ago. I wonder how he’s doing.”

  “We’ll be there soon,” Jack told her.

  In the back seat, Norman was in heaven, looking out the window and envisioning Rich in a cold dank cell.

  Jack had just turned off the 405 when his phone rang. It was his office. The phone wasn’t programmed to Zelda’s car so he pulled over to take the call.

  “Hello.”

  “Jack, it’s Tom.”

  “Hey, Tom. What have you got?”

  “We didn’t find any criminal record for either Rich Willowwood or—”

  “You will soon,” Jack interrupted.

  “Okay,” Tom said with a slight laugh. “We didn’t find a criminal record on Bobby Jo Bartinger but we do have other information about her.”

  “Just a second, Tom.” Jack turned to the others and told them. “Okay, Tom, do you mind if I put you on speaker?”

  “Not at all.”

  Zelda held her breath.

  “After you called before, I phoned my wife at home. She loves to go on the Internet and search for information that wouldn’t come up easily in a background check.”

  “What did she find?”

  “Apparently Bobby Jo’s grandfather was a notorious criminal in New Mexico, who did time for armed robbery. Time and time again I should say. He’d get out of jail and then rob another bank in six months. The family tried to distance themselves from him. They didn’t want people to discover their connection to such a morally corrupt individual. It’s understandable. People make snap judgments and think behavior like that is in the genes. The article my wife found was written thirty years ago for a small town paper in northern California. Bobby Jo’s mother, also named Bobby Jo, was interviewed on her deathbed. She talked about her father and how hard he’d made life for the family. Young Bobby Jo was at her bedside. Her husband had just died in a tragic accident. She was quoted as saying she’d never love again.”

  “Wow,” Jack said quietly.

  “When people gave those local interviews thirty years ago, I’m sure they never expected their story would be accessible to the whole world three decades later. My wife claims that the kind of background check she does helps you understand what’s really going on in a person’s life.”

  “It’s true,” Jack said. “Thanks Tom. And thank your wife for us.”

  “Yes, definitely thank your wife,” Zelda said.

  When they pulled up the driveway of the Scrumps estate, Zelda’s father’s car came into view. Inside, they found Bobby Jo and Roger standing at the kitchen table, surrounded by food. They were laughing as they unpacked grocery bags. Bobby Jo looked up when the door opened.

  “Zelda, hello!” she said with a big smile. “There was nothing in the refrigerator so I told your father we should go out grocery shopping. You people must be hungry. Let me fix you something. I hope you don’t mind—”

  “I don’t mind at all.” Zelda walked toward Bobby Jo and gave her a hug.

  Saturday, October 6th

  47

  After a restful day, Regan and Jack got in the car and headed toward the Scrumps estate for Zelda’s party. They were driving down Sunset Boulevard when Regan gasped and pointed at a billboard.

  “What?” Jack asked quickly, glancing at the ad for the latest luxury car. A hip young guy with a scruffy beard and a smug expression was sitting at the wheel. “Is that Griff?”

  “Yes. That ad will be coming down soon.”

  Earlier in the day they learned from the police that Griff confessed he had stolen cars and brought them to an illegal chop shop when he needed extra money. After his run-in with Regan at the garage, Griff watched her go to security and then followed her. He panicked when he realized that his face would soon be in a national ad campaign and Regan might identify him. He was worried that an investigation would expose him and his tough guy cohorts at the chop shop, who would surely retaliate.

  At the Scrumps estate, preparations for the party were in full swing. The caterers were preparing hors d’oeuvres, except this time Maggie wasn’t among them. She would be a guest tonight. Bobby Jo was helping Zelda and Norman with other last-minute details.

  Zelda had asked Regan and Jack to arrive early. She’d gotten a call from the police. Investigators had already been looking through the documents that they’d taken out of Petunia’s basement. There were a few important items they wanted her to see.

  The detectives arrived shortly after Regan and Jack.

  “Bobby Jo, would you get my father? I want him to hear the latest developments.”

  “Of course. I think he’s about ready now.”

  Officers Cal Spiedel and Donald Oppelt walked into the living room with Jack and Regan, noticing a karaoke machine in the corner.

  “Looks like it’ll be a fun party,” Cal commented.

  “Here we all are,” Zelda said, as she and Norman, her father, and Bobby Jo all sat down.

  “We didn’t want to take up too much of your time,” Officer Spiedel began. “But we were sure that you’d be interested in what we have to tell you.”

  “We are,” Zelda said.

  “First off, it seems that Rich Willowwood and Heather Hedges were quite a pair of schemers. They really went to great lengths to make a buck off other people.” He opened a binder. “Florence Natalie left letters with her estate papers that Rich and Heather, as her co-executors, should have given you. There’s one here for you, Zelda, and one for Norman.”

  “Me?” Norman cried. “Me? I’m afraid to read it.”

  Cal smiled. “You don’t have to be. Believe me.” He handed them both the letters.

  “Can we read them now?” Zelda asked.

  “Sure.”

  “You go first, Norman.”

  “Okay.” He pulled an old piece of stationery out of a plain envelope and unfolded it. Engraved on the top of the letter was a sketch of a house. “Look at this drawing,” Norman said quickly. “It looks like this house.”

  “What does it say?” Zelda asked impatiently.

  Norman cleared his throat.

  Dear Norman,

  I’m sorry we didn’t become friends, but I’m not one for socializing anyway. After my husband died, I wanted to stay to myself. I had such a wonderful life with him and I’m happy to live with my memories.

  We lived in a lovely old house on a hill where we hosted so many parties during our fifty years there. Such fun we had! We’d sing and dance and stay up until the sun rose behind the woods near our home. Then we’d have a champagne breakfast.

  After my husband died I didn’t want to stay there. I couldn’t. It was too painful. Befo
re I moved I kept hoping my husband would walk through the door. But I couldn’t bear to sell the house, either. Sometimes I’d take my dog (I’m sorry about your groceries!) and walk up into the Hollywood Hills to my home. I’d walk through those rooms, then sit in the living room and remember all the wonderful times.

  We never had children so I have to decide what to do with my earthly possessions. When I walk by your door, I sometimes hear you singing. Once I passed your door when it was open. Your apartment is so inviting and attractive.

  Norman, I am happy to bequeath you my home, The Scrumps Estate . . .

  Norman jumped up and screamed. “Is she kidding?”

  “Keep reading!” Zelda ordered.

  Norman adjusted his glasses.

  and I hope you restore it to its former glory. I own all the land on the block. One or two more houses could be built without destroying the natural beauty of the surroundings. Sell a piece of land so you can afford to live there. Then put your efforts into becoming a singer. You’re quite good!

  Most sincerely,

  Florence Natalie

  P.S. You really should learn to like dogs. They’re wonderful companions.

  “I love dogs!” Norman screamed. “I LOVE DOGS! He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. “This is my house. Isn’t it gorgeous? I love it here!”

  They all laughed.

  “Norman, that’s great!” Zelda said.

  “Truly great, fabulous, terrific . . .” the others echoed.

  Regan looked at the detectives. “How were Rich and Heather going to pull this off?”

  “They’d forged a new will that didn’t include the house, then transferred the title of the house into an LLC they created called The Scrumps Estate. But Florence’s legal will was in that closet, along with these letters. Both wills were dated at the beginning of last year. Because Natalie didn’t have an heir, Rich and Heather assumed that the will wouldn’t be scrutinized.”

  Norman was mumbling to himself. “I hope they rot in prison.”

  “Do you know how they met Florence Natalie?” Zelda asked. “Or how long they knew her?”

  “Yes, we do. Heather was very organized and kept a diary and detailed notes. Apparently Florence Natalie had made out a will after her husband died eleven years ago. She planned to leave her money to a charity that got a lot of negative publicity at the beginning of last year when a reporter discovered the executives were paying themselves huge salaries and bonuses. Florence decided she needed to change her will, but her lawyer had died. She looked in the Yellow Pages, found the name of a law firm that handled wills, and gave them a call. She was put through to Heather, who apparently decided to handle Florence’s estate without involving her firm. All she needed was a little help from her boyfriend Rich. I’m sure they presented themselves as invaluable legal and financial advisors, with Florence’s best interests at heart. When Natalie died six months later, Rich and Heather were the co-executors of her estate.”

  “She didn’t have a financial adviser when she met Rich?” Jack asked.

  “No. Her husband had handled their money. Before he died he had liquidated their investments. She never changed anything after that. She just paid her bills.”

  “What about Gladys?” Zelda asked. “Wasn’t she Florence’s bookkeeper?”

  Spiedel shook his head. “No. Gladys had been fired by Heather’s law firm for mismanagement of the books. Heather got in touch with her after she and Rich met Florence. They paid Gladys to be a witness to both versions of the will. Then they brought her in on Zelda’s business dealings.

  “No wonder she never wanted to talk about Florence!” Zelda said. “Whenever I brought up her name, Gladys would say it was too upsetting to talk about her dear friend. Oh! It’s just unbelievable!”

  “I wonder how Heather and Rich got together,” Regan said.

  Oppelt smiled. “According to Heather’s diary, they met at a networking party two years ago.”

  “There you go,” Regan said. “These days it’s all about making connections.”

  “Those two must have really hit it off,” Spiedel said. “It didn’t take long for them to become partners in crime. With Rich’s financial background and Heather’s legal knowledge, they were a perfect combination. They were just getting started, but they’d already marketed several products online, including a night mask that will not only block out the light but also will remove wrinkles while you sleep. That’s a good one, huh?”

  Zelda was shaking her head. “Wait, this means that Rich and Heather must have donated this house for the charity auction. Why?”

  “That charity, Healthy, Healthier, Healthiest, is run by a friend of Heather’s. A former friend I should say. Heather bragged to this woman that she and her boyfriend were the executors of an estate that included a mansion in the Hollywood Hills. It was going to be sold, but Heather offered it as an auction item. She said it needed sprucing up, but she would take care of it before anyone stayed there. She never did. I spoke to the woman from the charity today, and she seemed uncomfortable about the whole thing.”

  “They didn’t bother to freshen it up because it was me who would be staying here!” Zelda exclaimed. “And now I know for sure why no one from the charity wanted to show their face.” She turned to Regan. “Can you believe this?”

  Regan nodded. “Yes, I can. Zelda, why don’t you read your letter?”

  “I already have the money Florence left me so I don’t think there will be any big surprises.” Zelda looked up at the detectives. “I wonder why Rich and Heather paid me.”

  “They thought Florence Natalie had told you about the bequest you were receiving.”

  “That’s a stroke of luck.”

  “Read your letter,” Norman urged.

  “Okay.” Zelda pulled out the letter, written on the same stationery.

  Dear Zelda,

  You don’t know how much it means to me that you offered to walk my dog. Anyone who’s a friend of Porgie’s is a friend of mine.

  I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed seeing you on that game show. I was so sorry you lost. It was so unfair. That actor you were playing with gave you terrible clues! You were so gracious to him after you lost out on that money. I was very impressed. I’ll never forget it. The girl who was on before you looked none too pleased.

  Regan raised her hand. “That’s me!”

  They all laughed.

  Jack squeezed Regan’s arm and smiled. “I wish I’d been there.”

  Zelda continued reading the letter.

  but I must say I would have reacted the same way.

  “You see!” Regan crowed. “Did she leave me any money?” Zelda laughed. “I don’t think so.”

  “Read the rest,” Norman urged.

  I’d like to leave you a gift that should add up to eight million dollars after taxes. I hope you enjoy the freedom it gives you to follow your dreams. I know you’ll make a difference in this world.

  Sincerely,

  Florence Natalie

  P.S. If you want to hear about my life, ask Norman. I wrote his letter first. Now my hand is tired.

  Zelda looked up. “Wow. Who would have ever thought?”

  The doorbell rang.

  “We have a lot more to discover about those two,” Officer Spiedel said. “But we knew that you’d want to hear what we’ve learned so far. Your party is starting. I have a feeling it’s going to be a good one. We’ll be in touch.”

  “It’s going to be the best party ever!” Norman cried.

  Frank Bird came around the corner, dressed in black, looking handsome, and decidedly less stressed than he did the night before. When he saw Zelda he smiled. “Did I arrive too early?”

  Zelda’s eyes shone as she got up to greet him. “Not at all. This is the perfect time.”

  Jack turned to Regan. “Well, my dear, we can still take off tomorrow for a couple days of vacation. We’ll just have to decide whether we want to go north or south.”

  “With us it n
ever matters,” Regan said. “We’re already there.”

  About the Author

  New York Times bestselling author Carol Higgins Clark has written fourteen previous Regan Reilly mysteries. She is also co-author, with her mother, Mary Higgins Clark, of a bestselling holiday suspense series. Carol’s first mystery, Decked, was published in 1992 and was nominated for both the Anthony and the Agatha Awards.

  Also an actress, Carol studied at the Beverly Hills Playhouse after receiving her B.A, from Mount Holyoke College. She appeared in Wendy Wasserstein’s Uncommon Women and Others at Carnegie Hall, a play set at Mount Holyoke. Recently she played twins who own a bar together in the TNT production of Deck the Halls, the first book Carol wrote with her mother. It’s also the book in which Regan meets Jack.

  Using one word titles ending in “ED” came about by accident. After Decked, Carol wrote a book about a murder at a pantyhose convention. She joked that it should be called Snagged. Snagged it was! The rest is history! Carol has a long list of titles to come.

  We hope you enjoyed reading this Scribner eBook.

  Sign up for our newsletter and receive special offers, access to bonus content, and info on the latest new releases and other great eBooks from Scribner and Simon & Schuster.

  or visit us online to sign up at

  eBookNews.SimonandSchuster.com