by Jan Fields
Annie pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment, and then said, “I hate to even suggest this, but that young woman Harry was with did ask if she could borrow the hair comb. I thought that was a little bold for a perfect stranger.”
“Vanessa would be delighted if she turned out to be a jewel thief,” Kate said. “She kept an eagle eye on them all evening and said they left early. In fact, she said, ‘Dad must have had to get her home before her curfew.’”
Again Alice laughed. “She wasn’t that young.”
“Honestly, I don’t know which of us is going to have more trouble adjusting to Harry dating—Vanessa or me.”
“So we have two suspects!” Gwen said, pulling everyone’s attention back to the mystery. “This is very exciting.”
“Three,” Stella added. “Annie said that young biologist was close by as well. I don’t trust that young woman. She is entirely too nosy about Stony Point business. And visiting biologists would be an excellent cover for a pair of professional jewel thieves.”
Annie smiled slightly. “You’d think professional jewel thieves could tell costume jewelry from real. There were many women in that room with jewelry worth a great deal more than that hair comb.”
Stella sniffed. “I still think she’s a viable suspect.”
“What if we break up in teams and track down clues?” Peggy asked excitedly. “We could each pick our favorite suspect. I think Alice’s ex is the prime suspect. Plus, he’s a terrible tipper.” When everyone turned to look at her, she shrugged sheepishly. “I’m just adding information.”
“So we’re a team,” Alice said to Peggy. “I may have a plan for a bit of sleuthing.”
“Oh, do be careful,” Annie said. “I don’t want to be the cause of any trouble.”
Gwen reached out and patted Annie on the hand. “Don’t worry, we’re going to get to the bottom of this. I have to agree with Stella that those scientists are very suspicious,” Gwen said. “I don’t mean to be unkind, but you have to admit that all those questions are not normal behavior for two researchers whose minds should be on lobsters.”
“I suppose I could get Jason to make some inquiries about the two of them,” Stella said. “I really would prefer not to interact with that young woman more than I have to. She was entirely too familiar at that ball.”
Annie couldn’t imagine what Jason would think of being dragged into her sleuthing. She was surprised to hear that Stella wanted to take part at all. Stella usually considered Annie’s mysteries a bit silly.
“I can’t ask questions about Harry’s girlfriend,” Kate said quietly. “It just wouldn’t look good. Though, honestly, part of me wouldn’t mind her being a suspect.”
Mary Beth patted her assistant on the arm. “No problem,” she said. “I’ll take point on that investigation. Though it would help if we knew more about her so I knew where to start.”
“Well,” Kate said, “Vanessa did drill her father for information, so I might be able to give you some ideas of where to start. But then I have to stay out of it.”
“We seem to have cut Annie out of her own mystery,” Peggy said. “Who do you want to investigate?”
“I think I’ll investigate the jewelry,” Annie said. “Maybe if we knew more about them, we’d know who might be interested in them.”
“What’s your plan?” Alice asked.
“I’m thinking I might get them appraised,” she said. “Does anyone know who to see?”
“I have used a jeweler in Storm Harbor,” Stella said, rummaging in her bag and pulling out a pen and small pad of paper. “I can give you the name and directions to get there.”
“If there’s a single real stone in any of those pieces,” Alice said, “I’ll eat my Princessa Jewelry catalog.”
“I’m terribly curious about this jewelry,” Mary Beth said. “What does it look like?”
“Actually, I have it here,” Annie pulled out the small jewelry box from her needlepoint bag. She opened the box to show off the remaining pieces.
“It’s certainly pretty,” Gwen said as Annie passed the jewelry box around. “But I agree with Alice; this is definitely costume jewelry.”
When the box reached Stella, the old woman stared at the jewelry with her brows furrowed. “These pieces look familiar somehow,” she said finally. “I don’t know where, but I’m almost certain I’ve seen them before.”
“Maybe you saw them on Betsy?” Mary Beth suggested.
“Oh no,” Stella said with a slight smile. “These aren’t Betsy’s style at all. Betsy always preferred the simple and the classic.”
“That’s what I thought,” Annie said. “But it’s interesting that they look familiar to you. Could Gram have showed them to you?”
“I don’t think so.” The elderly woman lifted the necklace gently from the box and let it dangle from her hand. “I think I’ve seen them on someone.” She laid the necklace back in the box and handed it to Annie. “I’ll let you know if it comes to me.”
The meeting began to break up soon after that, though each mystery-hunting team whispered plans for seeking out clues. Annie looked ruefully at her project bag; she hadn’t even pulled her sweater out of the bag.
As Annie headed out to the street, she blinked a bit as a boisterous autumn breeze tossed a lock of hair into her face. Absently, she tucked it behind her ear and decided to grab a cup of coffee and a snack at The Cup & Saucer and plan her trip to Storm Harbor on Wednesday. She wanted to be certain she had thought through questions to ask the jeweler, though most of the questions that filled her head wouldn’t be answered by an appraisal.
Why did the jewelry look familiar to Stella? Annie knew Stella had spent many years away from Stony Point, living in New York City. So, if she dimly remembered the jewelry, that suggested they must have belonged to an older person in either Stony Point or New York. But it certainly wasn’t an old lady who climbed my oak tree, Annie thought.
“You look deep in thought.”
Annie turned sharply to see Ian stepping up on the sidewalk. She’d not noticed him crossing the street. “Pondering my new mystery,” she said.
“Speaking of which,” he said, “did you sleep all right after I left Saturday night? I saw you in church on Sunday, but you left so quickly.”
“I’m sleeping OK. Of course, I’ve been spending the nights with a guard cat beside me.”
“Boots is formidable,” Ian agreed. “But I’ll feel better when we know who broke into your house.”
“I have found myself watching out the windows more than usual,” Annie admitted with a sigh. “Do you think Chief Edwards will figure it out?”
“I’d never underestimate him.”
Suddenly a thought struck Annie, and she groaned. “With all the talk about the mystery, I never got an answer from Peggy about whether Wally knew a tree trimmer. I really hoped to get the oak cut back right away. I think I’ll feel safer when I know there can’t possibly be a repeat of the Saturday night break-in.”
“We locked the window, so it will be harder to get in,” Ian said. “But you do need that tree trimmed. When I get back to my office, I’ll call and send someone over to do it.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to have to do it. I can call if you’ll give me the name.”
“I’d like to do it. So, are you heading to the diner? Maybe we could share a table. I haven’t had lunch yet.”
“That would be nice,” Annie said.
Peggy actually followed them in as she’d practically run from the needlework shop to the diner, a bit late as usual after a Hook and Needle Club meeting. “Can I get you both a table?” she asked.
“Wow, it’s not every day that my waitress runs to serve me,” Ian answered.
“I can’t let someone else steal two of my favorite customers,” Peggy answered, grinning as she led them to a table near the window. Ian ordered a Reuben sandwich and soup, and Annie asked for a light salad.
“Got it,” Peggy said. “Just let me clock in, and I
’ll bring your coffee.” She turned and wove her way back to the kitchen.
Ian folded his hands on the table and smiled. “So, are the ladies of the Hook and Needle Club on the case yet?”
“Funny you should mention that,” Annie said. She explained how they had already known about the mystery when she got to the meeting.
“Sorry about that,” Ian said. “I think Charlotte missed her calling when she became an office manager. Clearly she was meant to be a reporter. I’ll speak to her.”
Annie raised her hands in mock surrender. “Not on my behalf, I hope. She scares me enough as it is. I can’t imagine what she’d be like if she were actually mad at me.”
“I’ll keep you out of it.”
Peggy appeared with a coffeepot to fill the mugs on the table, and then she leaned over and whispered almost loud enough to be heard around the room. “Alice and I are working on a plan,” she said. “It’s going to be just like a movie!”
“Just make sure you don’t do anything crazy.”
Peggy just winked at her and hurried on to the next table.
“A plan?” Ian asked.
“The club divvied up the suspects,” Annie said. “I’m not sure if they think we’re in an Agatha Christie novel or an episode of Scooby Doo.”
Ian laughed. “So who are your suspects?”
Annie told him what had gone on at the meeting and why each team chose their suspect.
“Well, my vote would go to John MacFarlane,” Ian said. “And I wouldn’t mind having an excuse to encourage him to finish his business and leave Stony Point.”
“Oh?”
Ian sighed. “You know, I knew Alice when we were teenagers. She’s a few years younger than me, but everyone knew and liked Alice. Her adventures were legendary. She always had a plan, and she always seemed to be able to get a half dozen of the kids from school to go along with it.” He paused and chuckled in remembrance.
“Yeah, she was like that when I used to spend summers with my grandparents,” Annie said.
He nodded. “But she wasn’t like that at all when she came back to Stony Point after her divorce. If Betsy hadn’t dragged her out of the carriage house now and then, no one would have ever seen her. It’s only since you came back to Stony Point that Alice has begun to be Alice again. I don’t want to see John MacFarlane change that.”
Annie nodded, not knowing what else to say. She didn’t want to see that either.
11
With the bulk of the summer tourists gone, the drive to Storm Harbor on Wednesday was unexpectedly pleasant. Anne’s thoughts rolled over and over through her list of suspects. None of it really made sense, and the mental exercise left Annie feeling uncomfortable, as if she were missing something that she ought to see.
Stella had written excellent directions, and Annie soon pulled up in front of Koenig’s Jewelry, a small store squished between two others in the cramped style that Annie had begun to think of as “New England-tight” architecture.
Inside, a young man with friendly brown eyes and an prominently large nose greeted her. “Welcome to Koenig’s. May I help you?”
“I’m looking for Milton Koenig,” Annie said.
“That would be me,” the young man said. “Or my dad or my grandfather. But since I’m the only Milt Koenig here at the moment, I claim the title. How can I help you?”
“I was hoping to get some costume jewelry appraised.” Annie pulled the flat wooden box from her project bag. “Stella Brickson recommended I come here.”
“Ah, Mrs. Brickson has been a valued customer of Koenig’s for many, many years.” Milt suddenly broke into a sheepish grin. “Maybe you shouldn’t tell her I added that second ‘many.’”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Annie said. She placed the jewelry box on the counter. “So, do you think you can tell me about these?”
Milt Koenig opened the box and Annie saw a faint ghost of surprise pass over his face. He gently picked up the necklace and then the brooch, looking at each gem with a jeweler’s glass. “You do know this is costume jewelry?” he said. “None of these gems are real.”
“I thought that was the case.”
“Are you interested in selling these pieces?” Milt said. “I’d be interested in buying if you are.”
“I’m mostly looking for information,” Annie said. “But I’m curious—why would you be interested in a partial set of costume jewelry?”
“Sentiment, mostly,” he said. “My grandfather made these, and he’s gone now, so I wouldn’t mind owning them for sentimental reasons.”
Annie felt a wash of excitement. “How do you know your grandfather made them? Have you seen them before?”
Milt Koenig shook his head. “No, not these pieces. But my grandfather designed a lot of jewelry for wealthy families around here. It became quite the ‘thing’ for a while for women to own Koenig originals.” He tapped the necklace. “My grandfather often used nature to inspire his designs, especially trees. But it was always a bit abstract and always asymmetrical in really subtle ways. On first glance, you just see the glitz, but then when you live with the piece a while, you can see the tree, or vine, or flower.”
“Is there any way I could find out who commissioned this set?” Annie asked. “Does your family keep records?”
“My grandfather kept a portfolio of photographs of every piece he ever designed,” Milt said. “He would sit in his battered old wing chair every evening and leaf through the pages. He said every piece told him a story, and remembering their stories always inspired him to create new ones. You wouldn’t believe how many times my dad found the old man asleep in his chair with the book in his lap.”
“Do you have that portfolio?” Annie asked.
Milt shook his head sadly. “My grandfather had another habit as he sat in that chair. He smoked. And one night, I guess he fell sleep with a cigarette burning. I was away in college at the time, and my folks were out for the evening to some fund-raiser. My grandfather died in the fire, and that portfolio went with him.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Annie said.
“Thank you.” Then Milt seemed to think of something. “I know my dad has a kind of scrapbook of his own too. It’s almost all photos from newspapers and such—pictures of rich folks in Pop’s jewelry. It’s kind of a long shot, but this set could be in that. I don’t remember seeing it, but it’s not impossible. The photos are grainy and old; I don’t spend a lot of time looking at them.”
“Oh, could you check? And let me know if you find it?”
“Sure,” Milt said. “The scrapbook’s not in the store, but I can check it out for you and give you a call. You didn’t say, would you consider selling me the jewelry?”
“I’d like to find out a little more about it first,” Annie said. “But I promise not to sell it to anyone else without discussing it with you first. How’s that?”
“I’ll take it,” Milt said. “Hey, would you mind if I took a snapshot of these pieces? That way I can compare them against the scrapbook and maybe show them to my dad. He might have seen them before.”
“That would be very nice.”
Annie was excited to have gotten even an inch closer to solving the mystery of who owned the jewelry. Somehow, she felt the break-in was tied to the jewelry whether it made sense or not. Once she knew who had owned the jewels, she knew some of the other pieces would fall into place.
Milt quickly snapped his photos and took Annie’s name and phone number. “I’ll let you know whatever I find out,” he promised.
When Annie left the little shop, she paused on the street a moment, taking deep breaths of the cool fall air. Storm Harbor wasn’t quite as neat or charming as Stony Point. The style of the buildings was similar, but they looked more worn and tired.
Across the street and up a few storefronts, she saw a small restaurant and tavern. She had no interest in the tavern part, but considered grabbing a cup of coffee or a nice bowl of chowder before heading back to Stony Point. Something warm
ing sounded really good, and the small salad she’d had for lunch didn’t seem to be sticking with her.
She strode across the street and slipped inside the dark restaurant. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, Annie wondered if she’d made a poor choice. She never really liked eating in dark places and tended to wonder if the shadows could be hiding poor hygiene. But before she could turn around, a lanky young man in a white shirt and low-hanging black pants asked her to follow him.
He led Annie to a tiny booth in an especially dark spot where a candle flickered. Annie wondered if it would give enough light to read a menu.
“Your server will be Sunny.”
Annie looked up, startled, but the man had already turned and was headed briskly back to the front podium. She had certainly not come here looking for Harry’s new girlfriend, but Sunny wasn’t an extremely common name.
As she expected, she recognized the blonde right away as she headed for the table. Sunny wore the black and white that seemed to be the waitstaff uniform, though Sunny had added a silky white scarf tied around her neck that helped only slightly in obscuring the fact that half the buttons on the waitress’s tight shirt were unbuttoned. “Didn’t I just see you at that fancy party?” Sunny asked. “You were babysitting Harry’s kid or something, right?”
“Vanessa doesn’t need a sitter,” Annie said mildly. “She’s a teenager.”
“If she’s like I was as a teenager, she needs more than a babysitter.” Sunny snorted laughter. “What can I get you?”
Annie opened the menu and tried to read the print by the candlelight. Eventually, she gave up. “What kind of soups do you have?”
“Tomato, chicken noodle, clam chowder,” Sunny said as she ticked them off on her fingers. “Chili and beef with vegetable.” Then she leaned over the table, displaying a disquieting amount of cleavage. “They’re all out of a can though. You could get them cheaper at the grocery.”
“Maybe just a hot cup of coffee,” Annie said finally.
“Coming right up!” When Sunny reached out for the menu, Annie looked over her hands and forearms. She saw no sign of scratches. But who knows what might lie under that scarf?
