by Jan Fields
“That’s why we’re letting you join our group,” Annie said.
“Well, you sound determined, and I know better than to try to talk you out of it,” he said. “I’ll be there. How do you suggest we go about this?”
“You could hide out at Alice’s,” Annie said. “Then we could all sneak back through Alice’s backyard. There’s an overgrown strip of brush back there that connects to my yard. Then we’ll just sneak in the back door and wait.”
Ian still did not look convinced, but he nodded. “OK, we’ll do this. But I’m telling Chief Edwards just in case we need him.”
Annie nodded. “There’s one more thing. I was hoping we could talk about the plan to sell the jewels, and my plan to go to the dance performance in front of Charlotte.” Her face warmed slightly as she spoke. She didn’t like to criticize people, but she knew Charlotte would definitely help get the word out about their “plans.”
Ian leaned back in his chair and smiled slightly. “That shouldn’t be too hard,” he said. “Charlotte’s not going to be able to stand us being alone in here too much longer. We can wait until she comes in with some reason for interrupting and just be sure to go over your cover story while she’s here.”
“Sounds like you know your secretary well,” Annie said.
“Well enough.”
Just then, there was a light knock and the door to Ian’s office opened, and Charlotte hurried in with a small pile of papers. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Mayor,” she said primly, “but you didn’t sign these forms yet for the budget meeting.”
Ian smiled. “Of course.” Then he turned to Annie as he held his hands out for the papers. “I think it’s a good idea for you to do something fun for a change. I’ve heard good things about that dance performance. When are you going?”
“We’re riding with Stella,” Annie said, noticing Charlotte’s eagle eyes turning sharply to her as she spoke. “She’s picking us up tomorrow evening around seven.”
“I hope you have a good time,” he said, his head down to glance over the papers. “But don’t stay out too late if you’re driving to Storm Harbor on Thursday.”
“Well, that’s when Milt Koenig said he’d like to meet,” she said. “I’ll be glad to have that jewelry off my hands. They’ve caused me nothing but headaches. And they belong back with his family since his grandfather made the pieces.”
Ian held the pen over the paper, but looked up suddenly at Annie. “Would you like me to put the jewelry in my safe until then?”
“No, they’re fine. I’m keeping them in the freezer. I just wrapped the whole box in aluminum foil. I saw that on a television show.”
“I saw that show,” Charlotte said. “I thought that was a great idea, but I haven’t tried it yet.”
Ian scrawled his signature and handed the papers back to Charlotte. “Thank you, Charlotte.”
“Will you be leaving for lunch soon?” she asked Ian.
He turned to look at Annie. “Good idea. Want to join me for lunch?”
Annie smiled. “Maybe a quick one. Then I have to pick up some groceries at Magruder’s.”
As Annie followed Ian out the door of his office, she noticed Charlotte scurrying back to her desk. Something told Annie it wouldn’t be long before Charlotte thought of someone who would like to hear a bit of gossip. She just hoped her plan wasn’t lost in Charlotte ranting about the mayor spending too much time with a certain widow.
Lunch was pleasant, and Annie thought again about how much nicer it was to eat in the well-lit diner than at that dreadful place in Storm Harbor. Peggy slipped over to their table once to whisper, “I’m spreading the word.”
Between Peggy and Charlotte, Annie was sure everyone in Stony Point would know that Grey Gables would be empty on Wednesday night.
18
After lunch, Annie crossed the street and walked down to Magruder’s Groceries. As she drifted through the aisles, plucking something off the shelf whenever it caught her eye, she thought again of her grandmother. Betsy Holden never shopped without a list, but sometimes Annie liked to be inspired by what she saw. Her husband used to tease her about “inspiration shopping,” but he always seemed to enjoy the meal variety that it produced.
As she picked up a small tin of English tea, she shook her head ruefully. It was hard to believe that inspiration shopping used to be about the most adventurous thing in her life. She’d liked the steadiness of her life in Texas. There was something comforting in the familiarity of each day, but even though her life in Stony Point could be a little too exciting sometimes, she found it went a long way toward waking her up from the fog of loss she’d been in when she’d first returned.
“Mrs. Dawson?”
Annie turned to face Jenna Paige. The young woman held a shopping basket and looked at Annie anxiously. “Yes?” Annie said. “Are you all right?”
Jenna nodded, but then her eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“What’s the matter?” Annie asked.
“Do you like me?” Jenna asked quietly.
“I hardly know you,” Annie replied gently, “but you seem like a very friendly person.”
“I try to be,” Jenna said. “And I hoped people here would like me, but I don’t think they do.” She wrapped an arm around herself, as if she were cold.
“Why would it matter? You will be done with your research soon, won’t you?”
Jenna nodded, then she stepped closer to Annie. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“If you want.”
“Simon and I are getting married,” she said softly. “And we thought we might like to live here. It’s such a pretty town, and it’s close to the water. I love the water. I even thought I might teach. Simon was offered a position at the University of Maine, and I thought I might … ”
Annie looked at her quizzically.
“Don’t laugh,” Jenna said.
“I won’t,” Annie promised.
“I thought I might write a children’s book,” Jenna said. “About ocean life and what we can do to protect it. I even know who the main character will be—Lolly the Lobster.” She sighed. “Anyway, it seemed like a wonderful idea, but some of the people here can really be so mean.”
Annie felt of pang of guilt as she looked at the tearful young woman, since she was certain Stella’s scolding must have upset her terribly. Stella wouldn’t have let her temper build up so much if she wasn’t trying to solve Annie’s mystery. As far as Annie was concerned, that laid the blame squarely at Annie’s door.
“I’m sorry Stella was short with you,” she said. “I’ll tell you a secret. She didn’t like me very much when I first moved here. She thought I was nosy.”
Jenna’s eyes opened wide. “She did? Did she say that?”
“More than once,” Annie said, “though maybe not as forcefully as she told you. But really, she’s just not comfortable with new people. Once she gets used to you, it will be different.”
Jenna looked thoughtful for a moment, and then she shook her head. “She’s not the only one. Some people just glared at us when we went to the ball.”
At least Annie knew that wasn’t related to her over-zealous mystery hunters. “Well,” she said gently, “lobster fishing is very important around here. I think having researchers here to count lobsters and such makes people afraid that new regulations could appear that would make it harder to make a living.”
“Really?” she said with a sniff. “You think that’s it?”
“Could be.”
“So they don’t just … not like me?”
Annie patted the girl’s arm. “I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t like you.” Then she paused before she continued. “May I offer you some advice?”
Jenna nodded eagerly, looking a bit more like herself.
“When I first moved here,” Annie said. “It took a long time for me to feel like I was fitting in. Stella wasn’t the only person who wasn’t exactly nice to me then, and I felt terribl
e about it.”
“What did you do?” Jenna asked.
“I tried to give them space, and maybe not be quite so eager,” Annie said. “I tried to be patient. And you know? Some of the people who were coldest to me are among my best friends now, and we’re all in that needlework group you met at Mary Beth’s shop.”
A smile brightened Jenna’s face. “They’re very nice. I don’t think I’d join a needlework group, though. I finally gave up on that cross-stitch when Simon told me the back side of the cloth looked like it had a fuzzy animal stuck to it.
“May I ask you something?” Annie said, remembering that Simon had scratches that could be from Boots. “It might seem like a strange one.”
“Sure, anything,” Jenna said.
“Is Simon’s family from around here?”
Jenna smiled and shook her head. “No, Simon’s from Louisiana. That’s where all his family lives. Simon’s the first member of the family to ever get an advanced degree. They’re very proud of him, and they’re all really nice people—” she giggled a little, “—even if I can’t always understand everything they say. Have you ever been to Louisiana? The accent is amazing.” She leaned closer to Annie again for another whisper. “That’s the other place we’re considering moving to. Simon got an offer down there too.”
Annie admitted she’d never been there. As Jenna continued to spill out all kinds of details of different relatives and exciting things about Louisiana, Annie decided they really could safely mark another suspect off the list. It didn’t seem like Simon or Jenna could be connected with the scandal or the jewelry. Still, just to be sure, Annie worked in a remark about selling the jewelry on Thursday.
“Oh, you mean that pretty hair comb you wore to the ball?” Jenna asked. “That was beautiful. I don’t think you should sell it. It looked really nice on you.”
“Thank you,” Annie said, “but I lost the comb at the ball. I’m just going to sell the rest of the pieces. The grandson of the man who designed them would like to have them. I’m going to sell them on Thursday.”
“Oh, that would be nice,” Jenna said. “I always wished I came from a close family.” This launched another gush of information about how many children Jenna hoped to have, and her hopes they’d all be very close. Annie let the girl’s chatter pour over her for a bit, and then she asked her if she knew about the dance performance at the Cultural Center.
“No, is it ballet?” Jenna asked. “I’ve always thought I’d like to see a ballet.”
“I think it’s historical somehow,” Annie said. “A bunch of us are planning to go Wednesday night. It’ll be good to get out of the house.”
Jenna giggled. “I’m looking forward to having a nice house to get out of someday.”
Eventually, even Jenna ran out of things to talk about, and Annie was able to ease away. She paid for her groceries and headed home, feeling a little like she could use a nap after the deluge of chatter from the young scientist.
Afternoon shadows were slanting across the lawn as Annie pulled up in front of Grey Gables. Annie scooped up her two cloth grocery bags and carried them to the house, managing to hook a last finger through one handle on her project bag.
The groceries seemed to get heavier with each step, and she suddenly wished she’d made two trips. That’s the trouble with impulse shopping, she thought. Your impulses can get really heavy! When she got to the porch, she tried to shift the load so she could set one of the heavy bags down in the seat of the nearest white wicker porch chair.
As she struggled with the groceries, her project bag slipped off her finger, spilling its contents before hitting the porch. “That’s what I get for being in a hurry,” she moaned, looking at the mess. She lugged her bags into the kitchen before returning to the porch.
She bent down and began scooping balls of yarn and hooks into the bag. She saw that the flat wooden jewelry box had sprung open and the velvet-covered form where the jewelry nestled had fallen out, along with the brooch and necklace.
She picked up the brooch, and then spent a moment picking the necklace out of the crack in the porch planks where it had fallen. She tilted the box back right-side up. That’s when she saw the folded paper wedged under the molded velvet box lining.
She picked out the folded sheet, stuck it in her pocket, and placed the liner and jewelry back in the box. The mysterious paper seemed to call out to her from her pocket; she sank into one of the living-room chairs and opened the paper. It was a note.
Dear Betsy,
I know we don’t know each other well. I’ve not always returned your friendly kindness in a way that reflects well on me. I’m sorry for that. But when I think of people I can trust with a secret, your name is the only one that comes to mind.
I should dispose of this jewelry, but somehow I cannot. When my husband gave me these for our anniversary last year, I still believed in him. I remember the joy I felt, and how I looked forward to our future. I can’t simply throw that away, even if I can’t stand to look at them, knowing he’d taken them and handed them over to that cheap woman.
I assure you, these are evidence of no crime. What the newspapers are saying is not true. I never hurt that strumpet beyond ripping my personal belongings from her ears. And I certainly gave her enough money to make up for any discomfort. I paid for a new name and for her to relocate to a new country. She deserved neither. I only took what was rightfully mine. I refuse to see that as a crime!
I must live with the shame of buying my husband back from a diner waitress, but I will not have the world knowing. I firmly believe this scandal will blow over since I am not guilty, but at least my real secret can remain mine. I guess that says something about my pride. I would rather be thought a murderess than a weakling.
Someday, I may want these back. I don’t know. But I can’t have them near me. Not now. I must focus on my family. Nothing else matters. You now have my jewelry—and my most hideous secret—in your hands. I trust you to keep them safe.
Annie stared at the letter in amazement. It was signed with initials only: M.W. Annie knew they must stand for Millicent Winters. As she stared at the paper, Annie shook her head sadly. What a terrible price this woman must have paid for the sake of pride.
With shaking hands, Annie slipped the paper back into her pocket. Was someone willing to steal to keep this secret from the past? If so, who was doing it? Who wanted to keep Millicent Winters’s story buried?
With a sigh, Annie decided to fire up her laptop and see if she could find anything about the murder or about Millicent Winters. She carried the laptop to the kitchen again. If she was going to tackle the search on her own, she preferred to do it in the room she felt most comfortable in.
Annie tapped her fingers on the worn wooden table as she waited for her computer to boot up. Millicent Winters was desperate to keep a secret that was tied to the jewelry. But she would have to be an old woman today. So who was still interested in this secret?
Annie clicked on her Internet icon, and then waited for her homepage to load. She used a search engine for her homepage since she figured the only time she would consider turning on the computer, she’d have to be desperate to know something.
She typed “Millicent Winters” into the search box and clicked the button to start the search. She quickly learned there was a town named Millicent that booked tourists in the winter. She discovered a couple of profiles for women named “Millicent Winters,” but they were all quite young. Then she found a link to “Unsolved Mysteries of the Past.”
That sounded promising. Annie clicked on it and soon was looking at a Web page that featured graphics made to look like wanted posters. She scanned the links and found the one labeled “Death of a Diner Waitress.” The brief write-up covered mostly just what Annie already knew with the addition of a few names.
A young waitress named Tracey Williams had vanished. The police found trace amounts of her blood on the carpet in her apartment but not enough to suggest the woman was killed there.
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During the investigation, they discovered the waitress had a wealthy lover, Jackson Winters. And a witness claimed the lover’s wife had been at the waitress’s apartment on the last night anyone had seen the girl. The write-up did mention that the witness only saw Mrs. Winters because he was sitting in the alley beside the apartment building, drinking.
There was no follow-up on the case and no resolution. The police only had one suspect, but they never had a body, so eventually the investigation simply stalled. Annie returned to the search engine and clicked through more links, but nothing else turned up even distantly related to the case. As she shut down the computer, Annie wondered if she should visit the library. There might be more information, maybe even newspaper reports.
Annie yawned and noticed that night had fallen while she’d read through the links. She decided to spend some time working on her sweater and unwind before bed. Tomorrow she might see the end of this mystery at last. As Annie glanced at the note on the table beside her, she wondered if this mystery could possibly have a happy ending for anyone.
Annie slept unusually late the next morning after having had some trouble falling asleep the night before. She might have stayed in bed even longer if Boots hadn’t pushed her nose into Annie’s and meowed. The sound and ticklish whiskers woke Annie at once, and she gently pushed the chubby cat toward the edge of the bed.
“OK, Miss Boots,” she said. “I get it. Breakfast is unacceptably late.”
Despite the cat’s complaints, Annie decided to shower and dress before heading to the kitchen. By the time she gave in, Boots was nearly yowling with complaints about the slow service.
“Goodness,” Annie said as she poured the dry food in the small ceramic cat dish. “You’d think you were an alley cat teetering on the brink of starvation.”
Boots shoved her head into the bowl, not even bothering to go through her usual routine of scornful sniffing. As Annie carried the box of cat food back to the cupboard, she realized she hadn’t yet put the “bait” in the freezer. She’d need to wrap something in foil—something that clearly would look like a jewelry box.
