“Well, that’s one advantage.”
“It may not be Phillip. It could be someone who knows what the jewelry means and hates suffragettes. Or it could be someone else feeling envy.”
“I don’t envy anyone. I know how quickly life can reverse,” Grace said quietly.
“But you look like you have everything, Grace. People envy you.”
“I’m quiet. Reserved. You know that. I’m like a blank canvas. People paint what they want on me.”
“I want you to start cooking and cleaning. Let me paint that.”
“Oh, please.” She threw a napkin at him.
“I never know when you or Tatania might slap,” Jack said, ducking.
“She’s teaching me to keep my claws sharp,” Grace said.
“Let me check something out. If you have Jake Leg, you may go to the bath house to treat it.”
Jack walked quickly into the Men’s Bath House.
He came out again quickly.
“Didn’t get enough of me?” Grace teased.
“Grace, I will never, ever, get enough of you.”
Grace knew to enjoy this moment in time, and stayed rooted, savoring the sight of him, strong, handsome and in love with her, to store in her memory forever, for retrieval if he wasn’t there later.
Chapter Eight
“And we also have stationery,” The Jessop and Son’s jewelry salesclerk said.
Grace thought about mentioning that they were still on a Central Drug Store budget, when Jack said, “Great. Our letterhead is Wentworth & Brewster, Coronado. Telephone Number is Wenster 3423 and we’ll take gold engraving on your best white bond.”
“How did you get that number for us?”
“I combined our names. And then added your bust and waist measurements. I wanted it to be easy to remember. And the phone company was most accommodating when I explained.” Jack looked at Grace appreciatively.
“The Jessops are waiting for you at home,” The salesclerk said.
The Jessops replicated their English Manor on the island of Coronado. In Colonial Revival style, the house celebrated a perfect symmetry of matched windows and doors. When Grace rang to say they wanted to talk about the party at the Spreckels Mansion, Mrs. Jessop seemed particularly accommodating.
Grace thought of her best friends from Finishing School, Emily and Ruth, again. Their days would be filled with afternoon teas, ladies’ calling cards and Balls now. She didn’t miss that life. It felt like someone else had lived it. She missed the friendship and easy confidences that she didn’t think would ever come again. She knew enough to appreciate every moment with Jack, jealously guarding each moment of happiness like a rare, gleaming jewel far too easily snatched away.
“Haven’t I seen you at the Dance Pavilion?”
“I think I have too. You’re a lovely dancer, Grace,” Mr. Jessop said.
“Well, at Madame Petit’s Finishing School, learning to dance wasn’t optional. It was mandatory.”
“We want to send our daughters to Madame Petit’s.”
“I’ve seen you both walking by the trout pond by the Del too.”
“Yes. She’s my catch of the day,” Jack said.
He caught her hand before she could slap. He had the lightening fast reflexes of an athletically trained West Point graduate who triumphed in the Great War.
Jack held out the jewelry notebook. Mr. Jessop flipped through the pages.
“Most exquisite,” he said.
“Yes. A Suffragette Jewelry collection.” Mrs. Jessop peered over his shoulder.
“Did you ever see anything like it here?” Grace asked.
“Not that I remember. I believe this is from a jewelry catalogue put out by an English Jeweler. Mappin & Webb. They’re jewelers to the Crown.”
“Lovely. Thank you for your time.” Grace and Jack stood together.
Chapter Nine
“I need to show you how to shoot,” Jack said, walking back towards Tent City.
“For when I meet your friends in low places?”
“Absolutely.”
“Should I try the Rifle Range?” Grace asked.
“I’ll meet you there,” Jack said.
Tent City’s bathing pool enthusiasts splashed water around their deck. Grace gingerly walked around the bathing pools to the arcade and Rifle Range. She thought of getting a new bathing suit. She spent the Finder’s Fee several times in her mind everyday. All she was missing was the money.
“Little lady, are you sure you’re comfortable shooting?”
“I’m a natural,” Grace said.
She reached for the rifle he handed her. And hit every target. It felt satisfying.
“You’re a good shot.” Jack complimented her when he returned.
“Thank you. I may not be able to give Wyatt Earp a run for his money—”
“—Old Wyatt is getting on in years. You might be able to give him a run for his money.”
“Should I get you a rifle?” Jack asked, as she hit each target again.
“It wouldn’t fit in my garter.” Grace put the rifle down,
“I have something better.” He gave her an unmistakably Tiffany’s blue box with a white bow.
Grace pulled the bow and opened the box. Her heart pounded quickly. What if it was a ring?
Inside, there was a pearl inlaid pistol.
“It will fit in your garter.” Jack smiled.
Grace pulled out the pistol. It felt right. She pointed it sideways, away from Jack and saw Emily running up the path.
“I’m here. Surprise!”
Grace’s smile froze.
Emily bounded up to them.
“Shooting! What a popping good time you’re having Grace!”
“I can’t stop laughing,” Grace said.
“We’re going to a speakeasy,” Jack said.
“Isn’t it a little early? In Manhattan, the speakeasies don’t even get interesting until midnight.” Emily looked befuddled.
“I’m working, Emily. I’m a detective. This is Jack, my partner,” Grace said, suddenly feeling tired.
“Working too! What a hoot Grace!” Emily’s jaw dropped.
The wind resonated with the ocean. Two powerful forces of nature. Yet together, the sound they made was not a cacophony, but a harmony.
Grace stood next to her own force of nature, Jack. For a long time, as a child, she’d felt afraid of the night air. Hated the darkness. Hated New York winter and felt Coronado’s sun was a gift from God. She’d cried every year when her parents took her back to the East Coast.
She thought of the contrast between Jack, in his tent cottage, with his books, one table, one bed, and one cat. And the luxury hotel room at the Del to which she’d become accustomed. She could give up the Hotel del Coronado and choose Jack and sleeping out under the stars on the beach and still be happy.
Jack watched Grace touch her Mother’s pearl necklace.
“I’m going to get you emeralds, diamonds, and amethysts to go with that,” Jack said
“We won. We have the vote. And look what’s happened. President Coolidge says the business of America is business,” Grace said.
“Everyone is predicting permanent prosperity,” Emily said.
Grace thought that not finding the missing jewelry wasn’t an option for her. She couldn’t keep surviving on the dwindling money she’d kept from winning the Bathing Beauty Contest. Part of it went to keep her horse, General, at the Hotel del Coronado’s stables. She wouldn’t part with General. She knew Jack understood. He saved animals. You could tell a lot about people from the way they treat animals. Good and bad.
A Great War Aviator, West Point Class of 1915, forever known as the class the stars fell on, Jack would never forget his soldiers, those who had lived and those who had made the greatest and most noble of all sacrifices in the Great War.
“Who would have known that Helen and Pauline were at the benefit for the Lishner Sanatorium? Besides Phillip? Who would have known that it was the perfec
t time to rob them?” Grace asked Jack.
“Lishner Sanatorium? I saw an ad for that on the Street Car here. Odd advertisement. For nervous children. Or for children whose parents need a break,” Emily said.
“Some people say that boarding school or Finishing School is a way for parents to dispose of children,” Grace said.
“Darling, the only people who say boarding school or Finishing School are horrible cannot afford it,” Jack said.
“It’s like they’re answering a question no one would ever ask,” Emily replied.
“Saying you wouldn’t want an opportunity you’ve never had,” Jack agreed.
“The San Diego Union reported that Doris Duke inherited one hundred million today. And she looks like money agrees with her,” Emily said.
“Her father advised her to trust no one,” Grace said.
“Good advice. Since her father never met me.” Jack touched a strand of Grace’s dark, bobbed hair, pulling it back from the face he adored. During the summer on Coronado, streaks of auburn and blonde appeared in it.
“We’re looking for suffragette jewelry, Emily. It was created by a British jeweler for suffragettes. A British jeweler patronized by the crown. Some people think that royalists were secret sympathizers to the suffragette movement and wanted to announce it silently. What does a well bred woman do? She says it with her jewelry.”
“Do you want to go look at jewelry?” Emily asked.
“We’re on our way to a speakeasy first. There should be a pawnshop nearby where we can look for jewelry,” Jack said.
Chapter Ten
“Bottoms up.” Jack whispered at the speakeasy’s door in downtown San Diego.
“I swear, everyone’s drinking more since Prohibition than before. Some of the veterans can use a drink when war memories come. It’s not right that it isn’t legal,” Jack said.
“Well it supports an argument to go to church. Altar wine is still legal. And comes with a cracker,” Grace replied.
“As long as you don’t drink coffee and then drink alcohol. Or vice versa. I always tell the other bartenders not to give coffee to drunks. Nothing worse than being wide awake and drunk. If you’re going to drink a lot, you must drink in the afternoon or evening, when you’ll fall asleep.” The bartender winked at Grace.
“When you’re drinking the way God intended,” Grace said.
“We’ll learn to drink religiously.” Emily waited at the bar to be served.
The patrons, mainly men, stood in groups like clusters of gin blossoms. A fight broke out and one cluster of gin blossoms broke open, revealing a woman in the center with her dress slightly torn. Jack pulled her out. A piece of glass flew past Jack’s shoulder, cutting him.
“Sit down Jack.” Grace felt faint.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Let me look at your wound.” Grace wrapped her silk scarf around her wrist and applied it to Jack’s shoulder.
“I really don’t mind the sight of blood. As long as it’s not my own. In Manhattan, they just have jazz bands. Here you have speakeasy fights instead,” Emily said.
“I’m going to need some whiskey,” Grace said.
The bartender put a bottle and a shot glass in front of her. She poured herself a glass and took a sip.
“Are you going to ask for Coca Cola to go with that too? While I bleed to death? I thought it was to sterilize my wound,” Jack said.
“I must fortify myself first. I’m no Florence Nightingale.” Grace took another sip of whiskey. She never did get the hang of drinking a shot all at once. Maybe she’d always been too afraid of burning.
“Are you going to order a soda or help me?’
“Both. You were in the trenches in the Great War. Don’t go soft on me, Jack.”
“Do you know what your problem is?”
“You. My problem is you.”
“It wouldn’t kill you to be nicer to me,” Jack said.
“With the scrapes you get into Jack, it might.”
Jack winced and Grace felt badly for him.
“You’re not bleeding to death. I stopped the blood with my scarf.”
“And that’s a lovely scarf. I remember when she bought it in Paris,” Emily said.
Grace carefully cleaned the wound. Then she pressed the scarf against his shoulder again. “Expensive,” Jack said, looking at the scarf.
“Yes, but you are so worth it.”
“You okay?” The bartender asked. Nothing seemed to faze him.
“I’m good. How’s the girl?” Jack asked.
“The bartender stays calm through everything.” Emily remarked.
“I never knew he drank until I saw him sober,” Jack said.
“Prohibition has reinforced the country’s belief that alcohol is absolutely necessary.” Grace sipped her whiskey.
The girl, looking haggard but grateful, approached Jack.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“It was the least I could do. Don’t ever say I didn’t do the least I could do,” Jack said.
“I say that all the time,” Grace said, moving closer to Jack.
“I don’t think these jerks will bother you again. They’re probably about to sleep for a very long time.”
“He heals quickly. Don’t worry,” Grace said.
“Don’t pamper me too much.”
“Jack, except for you getting wounded, I love this speakeasy. It doesn’t have a separate women’s entrance. Inferior to the men’s. Like they do at the U.S. Grant’s dining room. And I don’t want to go to a sordid saloon. At a speakeasy, if you can speak the password, you can be male or female, and walk through the same entrance.”
“I thought some of the speakeasy people would have no class,” Emily said.
“Some of the speakeasy people have a lot of class. And it’s all low,” Jack said.
“Jack has been a big influence on me,” Grace said.
“All bad,” Jack said.
Chapter Eleven
“You’ll be fine, Jack. They can’t keep a good man down. And it looks like they can’t keep you down either,” Grace said.
They went to the Pawn Shop next to the speakeasy. The Pawn Shop clerk looked nervous. His hands sweated on top of the glass. Grace saw mainly pistols and watches in his glass case.
“These are hard times for pawn shops. People don’t need to hock valuables. They can buy stock on credit. Sell the stock immediately. The market keeps going up.”
Jack held the notebook with pictures of Helen’s jewelry towards the Pawn Shop clerk.
“Seen anything like this?”
“Never.”
They believed him.
Grace didn’t see any loose stones. She didn’t see any jewelry at the Pawn Shop. Really, it looked like the Pawn Shop was just trading with some hard core, hard drinking speakeasy customers.
“Beautiful pieces. So distinct,” Emily said, twirling her long diamond necklace, and looking at the notebook. She strung her diamond necklace once around her neck like a choker, and then round her head again, so it hung down past her low neckline. She felt liberated by California. The East Coast dictated behaviors from birth in her family. In the West, she could be anyone.
“Where is Tatania?” Grace asked.
“Probably still in Coronado. She’s doesn’t like to leave her island.”
“Lets go back,” Grace said.
Chapter Twelve
Just for the novelty of it, feeling emboldened by the speakeasy’s whiskey, Grace walked in the Men’s entrance at the Hotel del Coronado. She prided herself on picking her own entrances. The white parlor was just around the corner. And there, acting like she owned it, lay Tatania on a settee, hand fed some kind of delicacy by a matron.
The white cat blended perfectly with the furniture. With her luxurious white tail, curled around her, she seemed to have an instinctive sense of how to present herself. She looked like a work of art. She’d slip easily into a painting of a Renaissance Master.
“The small
est feline is a masterpiece.” The woman feeding Tatania quoted Leonardo da Vinci.
“Could this little angel be a stray?”
“She’s very well taken care of,” Grace assured her.
“I saw her with a jackrabbit. I thought she might have to hunt for food.”
“No she just catches jackrabbits to show off. She’d never have to hunt. She always knows how to find someone to serve her food and take care of her.”
“A very smart cat.”
Tatania looked up when Jack entered the room.
“She can’t hear. How does she know? She couldn’t have felt vibrations. She’s not even on the floor.”
“It’s my magnetic personality,” Jack said confidently.
Tatania jumped down and wound through Jack’s legs.
“Do you have a horse and a cat?” A little boy asked from the doorway.
“I’ve seen you at the stables, Miss.” He explained.
“Yes, I do. I’m going to the stables to check on him. If it’s alright with your parents, you can come with me.”
“They won’t mind.” He sprinted ahead of Grace.
“My name’s Edward,” he said, looking back over his shoulder, and narrowly missing a collision with an elderly couple shuffling by.
“I want to be a jockey,” Edward said earnestly at the stables.
Grace watched General reach down and nuzzle the little boy’s head. He patted General.
“My parents say it’s not practical. I should give it up.”
“Never, ever give up on what you want to do.”
“They won’t buy me a horse,” Edward said.
“If your parents give you permission, you can ride General anytime you want.” Grace promised.
He smiled brightly. And hugged General. And then, Grace.
“Thank you.” He shouted, jumping up and down.
“Let me show you where I keep the saddles. And introduce you to the stable manager and boys who will help you saddle General. And remember, just because he’s called General, doesn’t mean he gets to lead all the time. You’re in charge.”
General neighed twice. Grace rubbed his nose.
Magical Cool Cats Mysteries Boxed Set Vol 1 (Books 1, 2 & 3 & A Christmas Feral) Page 10
