Summer In Iron Springs

by Margie Broschinsky

  Darlene shot Jenna a nasty look, but it was clear that she didn’t dare challenge her. After a long irritated pause, the woman picked up the phone and struck the numbers with angry force.

  “Mr. Anderson?” Her voice changed from snide to sugary sweet in an instant. “This is Darlene, at the front desk . . . Yes, I know you’re busy but, you have visitors who say it is urgent they see you immediately . . . Uh huh . . . I see.”

  Nadine put her hand over the mouthpiece and went back to her surly voice. “Mr. Anderson is busy. He says he cannot be bothered right now.”

  “Tell him that it’s regarding some business dealings he had with Penny Parker.” Phoebe spoke with more conviction than she actually felt.

  Billy glanced at Jenna—who’s confused look matched his own—and shrugged. Then they both turned their attention to Phoebe.

  “Limo, remember?” Phoebe mouthed the words.

  “They say it has something to do with a Ms. Penny Parker, sir.” Darlene nodded her head as she listened to Ted’s response.

  “Uh-huh . . . okee dokee sir.”

  Her voiced became more high-pitched with every word.

  “Alrightee, then. Right away sir.”

  Darlene hung up the phone and walked around to the front of the counter.

  “Follow me.” She waddled through the lobby as fast as her short, chubby legs would allow.

  Phoebe wondered what Mr. Anderson had said to Darlene that got her moving so quickly.

  When they got to the elevator, Darlene ran her plastic badge through the card reader. The elevator arrived and within seconds, they were on their way to Mr. Anderson’s office.

  “This isn’t where we saw him the other day,” Phoebe whispered. Billy gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as they exited the elevator on the top floor of the sky rise hotel.

  “Right this way,” Darlene said, sounding as nasty as ever. She led them into a large office where Ted was seated.

  “Come right in!” The man stood up, strutted over to them and offered his hand. Billy shook Ted’s hand and introduced Phoebe and Jenna. If he recognized them as the “reporters” that had visited him previously, he didn’t let on.

  Darlene stayed put in the doorway until Mr. Anderson’s eyes moved from them to her.

  “You’re excused, Darlene.”

  The chubby lady quickly hurried away.

  As she studied the interaction, Phoebe guessed that Darlene had never been on the receiving end of one of Ted’s advances.

  They all took a seat on a large leather sofa as Mr. Anderson returned to his chair.

  “Now, what can I do for you three today?” Ted put both hands under his chin and glanced from Billy, to Jenna, to Phoebe. He seemed unconcerned, but Phoebe was certain he would never have agreed to meet with them if he hadn’t been at least somewhat worried about the information they’d relayed through Darlene. She took a long look at the man. There was coldness in his eyes that she didn’t trust.

  “We are here for a couple reasons, Mr. Anderson.” Billy returned Ted’s stare. “We need information about a cameo brooch; the one you gave to Gracie Brunson.”

  Ted smirked and pursed his lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He leaned forward and locked eyes with Billy.

  Billy was undeterred; he continued as though he hadn’t heard Ted’s comment. “Thirteen years ago, that cameo was stolen from Phoebe’s home, and the intruder who burglarized the home also killed Phoebe’s mother.” Billy leaned forward to equal Mr. Anderson’s posture and added, “This is a very serious matter Mr. Anderson, and we know you have the answers we need.”

  “I’m very sorry for your loss,” Ted said, glancing at Phoebe. His words were without feeling, and Phoebe didn’t even try to force herself to acknowledge them. “But, I know nothing about a cameo necklace.” The man stood up from his chair. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a very busy day.”

  “How did you know it was a necklace?” Billy asked. He stood up and met Mr. Anderson’s eyes. Billy’s well-built frame combined with the fact that he had at least three inches on the man caused Ted to shudder. “I asked about a brooch, not a necklace. But, when the cameo was stolen, it was attached to a gold chain.”

  Ted smiled an icy smile. “You asked about a necklace.”

  “Uh, well, actually . . .” Jenna held up a finger. “. . . He didn’t. He asked about a cameo brooch. He never mentioned a necklace at all.” She beamed at Ted in a way that caused a vein to throb in his temple. “I have a very good memory,” she added, with a sly smile and then tapping her temple with her finger, she added, “Very good.”

  “We have a list of names and some pretty racy photos of a certain hotel administrator in a stretch limousine. Now, we don’t want to get nasty, but we have a problem, and we need your help.” Billy opened the envelope and slowly removed the contents. One by one, he laid the pictures, cards, letters and other contents on the table in front of him. Mr. Anderson glanced at the items before falling to his chair. Leaning forward, he inspected the items until—after a long irritated silence, he spoke. This time, his tone was not quite so confident. “Suppose I just keep all this stuff and have security throw your sorry butts out of here.”

  “Mr. Anderson, we are not idiots.” Billy smiled and returned to his seat. “We would not be so foolish as to bring original copies of any of this stuff. Look closely and you will see that these are all photocopies.” Billy motioned his hand over the table to illustrate his point. Ted winced as he scanned the items and realized that Billy was telling the truth.

  Phoebe’s heart raced as she watched the interaction between the two men. She was impressed by Billy’s cool demeanor. She glanced at Jenna who was on the edge of her seat, evidently eager to get her chance to speak. Phoebe was content allowing Billy to handle Ted.

  Ted gave them a beady stare. “Where are the originals?” He demanded, his mouth twitching.

  “Safe.” Billy answered. “Do we have a deal, or do we take these public?”

  “Do you know who you are messing with, young man?” Mr. Anderson demanded through gritted teeth.

  “Do you?” Billy countered; he intensified his glare at Mr. Anderson and continued. “None of this needs to go any further than this room; and we assure you it won’t—as long as you aren’t the one who killed Mrs. Levick. All you have to do is give us the information we need; the name of the person who sold you the cameo.” Billy sat back in his seat and folded his arms in front of his chest.

  “First of all, I did not break into anyone’s house, and I definitely didn’t kill anyone!” Ted barked. His face was scarlet, and a large vein threatened to jump right out of his forehead.

  “Actually, I believe you.” Billy gave a smug grin. “You don’t strike me as a cat burglar. You are a scumbag who cheats on his wife and uses women as sex objects. You’re a terrible boss who fires hard working women when they don’t respond to your inappropriate advances.” Billy paused and glanced around the plush office. “You’re a real piece of work, Ted. But, I can’t see you breaking into houses and looting jewelry boxes. And as for the death of Phoebe’s mother—if you want to show your innocence, all you have to do is give us the information we need.”

  The man was fuming. His lips twitched as he glared at Billy. Ordinarily, he would probably have jumped over the table and strangled anyone who spoke to him the way Billy had, but he didn’t move. Phoebe now fully understood why Gracie decided not to pursue him for improper termination. She was scared of him and with good reason.

  “How do I know you won’t go back on your word?” Ted asked, straining to keep a civilized tone.

  “You’re just going to have to trust us.” Billy said boldly. “I give you my word that you will never have to worry about any of this . . .” He motioned his arm over the items on the table. “As long as you give us the name of the person who sold you the cameo.”

  For a long moment there was silence in the room. Billy stared at Ted, and Ted scowled back at Billy. His arms we
re in his lap, his fingers interlaced.

  As Phoebe watched the interaction, she thought it looked like some kind of odd staring contest. But, Billy had already won this contest. Everyone in the room knew it. The only thing left for the three teenagers to do was wait. Ted pursed his lips, sat forward, and glanced briefly at the items on the table.

  “I bought the cameo at a silent auction that was put on by Iron Springs High School.”

  “When?” Billy gathered up the items on the table.

  “Bout three years ago.” Ted sounded defeated.

  “Who put on the auction?” Jenna asked.

  “I don’t know, some hyperactive drama teacher. She asked me to go to the event as a publicity stunt. She said that news channels would be there and that it would look good for the inn. My boss thought it was a good idea.” Ted scoffed at the thought. “So I went. Once I got there, a reporter interviewed me, she threw in the name of the inn, and I bought the cameo; mostly because it was the first thing I saw; I just wanted to get out of there.”

  “Who donated the cameo to the auction?” Jenna asked.

  “I don’t know.” Mr. Anderson glared at Jenna. “It was a silent auction.” Ted was undoubtedly of the opinion that women were to be seen and not heard.

  Jenna wasn’t distracted by Ted’s rudeness. “What did the drama teacher look like?”

  Ted’s jaw tightened. “I don’t remember. All I remember is that she was an overexcited woman and she had this out-of-control curly brown hair. That’s all I recall about her.”

  She must not have been worthy of one of your scandalous liaisons. Phoebe’s stomach turned as she thought of all the women Ted took advantage of. How many more women got fired after refusing his advances?

  Billy finished putting the items in the envelope. “As long as that’s the truth, you won’t ever hear from us again.” Billy stood up. With that, the three of them left the office and hurried to the parking garage.

  Once they were safely away from the inn, Phoebe breathed a sigh of relief. “Boy am I glad to be away from that guy. I don’t think I could stand being there another—

  “I know exactly who the hyperactive drama teacher is!” Jenna cried.

  Phoebe turned to face her and Billy stopped the truck in the middle of the road—lucky there were no cars behind them. If Jenna could give her the name of the drama teacher, it would save a lot of time—and time was something Phoebe was running out of.

  Phoebe’s racing thoughts skidded to a halt as she and Billy focused their attention on Jenna. Watching her friend’s excitement, Phoebe wondered if Jenna could utter a single word if she wasn’t able to flail her hands wildly about. “You do? Who is it?”

  “It’s my drama teacher; of course! Ms. Cox.—she’s been teaching theater at Iron Springs High forever. It has to be her!”

  “Are you sure?” In Phoebe’s experience—which was limited—most drama teachers were pretty ‘manic’. Aside from the curly hair, her energy was the only thing Ted remembered about the person who’d invited him to the auction.

  “Yes, I’m positive! She’s way hyper. And, we have the same hair; except hers is brown.” Jenna tossed a lock of her thick hair over her shoulder.

  Phoebe glanced at Jenna’s unruly red curls. “That’s gotta be her.” She raised a hand and gave Jenna a high-five. “How do we get a hold of her? School’s out ‘til fall.”

  “One second.” Jenna dug her hand in her purse and fished out her phone. She searched her contacts and entered the number before going on. “Ms. Cox is amazing. You’ll love her.” She put the phone to her ear. “She’s won national awards for the performances she directs.” She held up a finger to signal that her call had been answered. “Hello, I’m calling to find out about your summer theatre schedule. Is there a performance on the calendar right now?” Jenna nodded as her smile grew wide. “Thank you. And, just one more thing please . . . Is Ms. Cox directing Fiddler on the Roof?” Jenna glanced at her friends and nodded wildly while motioning for Billy to turn around.

  Billy made a U-turn and headed toward Iron Springs High School. Jenna finished the call and related what she had learned.

  “The summer theatre group is preparing for their performance of Fiddler on the Roof! They’re in rehearsals right now!” She took a breath. “And the best part is that Ms. Cox is the director!”

  Phoebe’s face lit up. “That’s great! Can we go see her?”

  Jenna nodded. “She’s there right now. Mrs. Avery, the secretary, said to come right over.”

  “Awesome! I owe you big time.”

  “No you don’t, Phoebe. What do you think friends are for? By the way . . .” Jenna leaned forward so she could see Billy. “That stuff you said to Ted was awesome! You’ve got some pretty impressive skills.”

  Billy blushed. “Well, as much as I tried not to, I guess I learned a thing or two from my dad.”

  Eighteen

  When they entered the auditorium, they could hear Ms. Cox talking above the entire group of noisy students. The drama teacher was zipping from one side of the stage to the other, giving instructions and making adjustments. As soon as she realized Jenna was there, she jumped off the stage and ran like an excited child to meet her—the scarf that covered her head fell off, and her curls bobbed about.

  Phoebe smiled as she thought again about Ted’s description of Ms. Cox. Yep, she’s our drama teacher.

  Ms. Cox threw her arms around Jenna, and Jenna returned the gesture in kind. “It’s so nice to see you,” Ms. Cox said, after releasing Jenna from the embrace. “You know I’m still mad at you for not auditioning for my summer production.”

  “I know,” Jenna said, shaking her head. “I wish I could, but I’m working too much to commit. Gotta pay for college—it’s coming right up.” Jenna smiled as she gave Ms. Cox the once over. “Love the costume!” Ms. Cox was wearing a floor length brown skirt, long-sleeved button up shirt, matching apron and black boots. “Which one are you; Hodel, Chava, or Tzeitel?

  “Whichever.” Ms. Cox laughed as she waved a hand through the air. “Tevye’s daughters all look alike.” She glanced at Billy and Phoebe before returning her attention to Jenna. “So, what are you doing here?” She folded the scarf she’d been holding and put it in the pocket of her apron.

  “We need to talk to you,” Jenna turned to face Phoebe. “This is Phoebe Levick. She lives in Seattle—she’s spending the summer in Iron Springs. And you know Billy, don’t you?”

  “I certainly do.” Ms. Cox smiled at Billy. “Billy Hall; transferred in senior year and refused to take drama despite my nagging.” She gave Billy a playful grin and hugged him briefly before turning to Phoebe.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said, hugging her as well. As Phoebe returned the embrace, she imagined that she probably would have taken drama if the teachers at her school were anything like Ms. Cox.

  “Fifteen minute break everyone!” Ms. Cox shouted in the direction of the stage. A refrain of whoops and howls followed as the students raced off stage. Ms. Cox invited Jenna, Phoebe and Billy to have a seat in the soft auditorium chairs and she sat down facing them.

  “So, what’s up?” Ms. Cox asked.

  “Well, it’s kind of a long story.” Jenna glanced at Phoebe who nodded, giving her the go ahead to tell Ms. Cox the details.

  “Thirteen years ago, Phoebe’s house was burglarized and, among other things, an opal cameo brooch was stolen.”

  Ms. Cox listened spellbound at Jenna told the astonishing story. An expression of profound sadness came over her face when Jenna told her about Phoebe’s mother’s death.

  Her mouth fell open and she placed a hand over her heart. “Oh, my goodness! I . . . I just don’t know what to say.” She glanced at Phoebe who tried to communicate the words she felt obligated to say but just couldn’t: I’m okay, thanks for caring.

  “Well, the person has never been caught and recently Phoebe spotted the cameo in a gallery in town—

  “The same cameo?” Ms. Cox’s eyes grew w
ide. “Are you sure it was the same one?” She glanced at Phoebe.

  Phoebe nodded. “We’ve been able to verify that it is my mother’s cameo for sure. It’s a locket and there are two small photographs inside; one of me and one of my parents.”

  Ms. Cox nodded slowly as she listened, speechless; to Jenna relate the events that led to the cameo making its way to the Iron Springs Art Gallery.

  “We’ve been able to trace it to a silent auction held here at the school three years ago. Now, we need to know who donated it.”

  “So, the person who donated the cameo is the same person who killed your mother?” She looked at Phoebe.

  “Maybe,” Phoebe leaned forward in her chair, let out a breath, and continued with the story. “We don’t know for sure. But, we need to find out who donated the cameo—if it’s not the person we’re looking for— at least they can tell us where they got it.”

  “We hold a silent auction every year. That’s how we pay for these productions.” Ms. Cox directed her eyes toward the stage. “Putting on an event like this one is not cheap.”

  Phoebe glanced at the enormous backdrop of a small Jewish village that was set up on the stage. It was impressive—way more extravagant than any high school production Phoebe had ever attended.

  “Do you keep a record of the donors?” Phoebe asked, holding her breath. If there was a record, it would most likely lead them to the killer. But, if not, they would be at a dead end.

  Ms. Cox bit the inside of her cheek as she thought about Phoebe’s request. “Well . . . let’s see.” She used the palm of her hand to rub the tip of her nose. “There might be a record—somewhere. Come with me.” She stood up and walked along the downward slanting isle that separated the rows of cushioned seats. When she got to the stage, she turned right and led them into a large wardrobe closet.

  Eventually, they arrived at a small office way in the back of the auditorium. “This is where I keep everything.” She opened the door and stood to the side to allow them to enter. “If I saved it, it would be in there.” She glanced at the three teenagers. “It’s all yours ‘til five.” She started to walk away but stopped and returned to talk to Phoebe. “I wish I had something better to say. I can’t imagine how you must feel. I just want to tell you that if you need anything—anything at all . . . I’m willing to help. And, good luck in your search.”