by Irene Brand
George shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“It’s pretty obvious that you and your father set me up for the wedding—you knew Virginia had problems and you handed them over to me.”
“She was crazy about you,” Stephanie said, speaking at last. “Everyone thought she’d straighten up when you were married.”
George threw an angry glance in her direction, and Stephanie said no more.
A dainty little girl came into the room and stared at them through vivid green eyes. She scrambled up on her mother’s lap, and Connie saw a resemblance to Virginia’s pictures.
“Heather,” Stephanie said, “you remember your uncle Joseph, don’t you?”
“Hello, Heather,” Joseph said, and the child stuck out her tongue and ran from the room.
Joseph laughed. “Nobody in the family seems to welcome me.” He took the clipping out of his pocket again. “But back to this picture. The informant who gave it to me thinks that one of these people is Virginia, and I’m almost convinced that it is her picture. If so, she was involved in a robbery during the year she bummed around the country. I also think that someone who knew about that holdup blackmailed her after your father died. The bank records show that she withdrew large sums of money, starting shortly after your father’s death. George, are you going to help me prove that, or do you want to spend the rest of your life suspecting me and let the real criminal go free?”
“I don’t know anything about that paper, I tell you,” George said angrily. “I don’t know where her money went. I didn’t get any of it, either.” He stood again. “So, if you’ve said all you came to say, I’ll ask you to leave.”
Joseph stood, and reached out his hand to Connie.
“And I don’t appreciate you bringing another woman in here so soon after my sister’s death.” George said angrily. “You could have mourned Virginia for a decent time.”
“Connie isn’t ‘another woman.’ She’s my physical therapist, friend and fellow detective,” Joseph said. “She’s helping me solve this crime.”
Showing more spunk than Connie thought she had, Stephanie walked with them to the door, and she shook hands with both Connie and Joseph. “This is my home, too,” she said, “and you’re welcome to come here whenever you want. I apologize for George—he hasn’t been the same since Virginia’s death. He was very fond of his sister.”
“Yes, I know that,” Joseph said.
“Thanks also for bringing the jewelry for Heather. My father made his money himself. His ancestors were poor, so we have no family heirlooms. I’ll keep these safe for my daughter.”
Connie waved to Stephanie as they backed out of the driveway. “She certainly surprised me. I thought, at first, that she was under George’s thumb.”
Joseph laughed lightly, and drawled, “George thought she was, too, but he learned after he married her that Stephanie isn’t a doormat. She can be pushed only so far before she balks.”
They drove a few blocks, and Joseph pulled into a park and stopped under a shade tree.
“What are your impressions of the visit?” he asked.
“George lied about the picture, and I think he knows more than he’s telling. He’s also afraid for you to investigate this further.”
“I expected the latter, because if the news about a blackmailer leaks out, it will smear the reputation of a family that has been prominent in Colorado since the territorial period. I hope I can learn the truth and divert suspicion from myself without hurting George, but when he won’t be honest with me, I have to protect myself. He knows very well what Virginia did while she was away from home, but he won’t tell me.”
“You thought there was some tension between George and Virginia last Christmas. Could they have had trouble over the estate?”
“It’s possible that when Virginia’s money was all gone, she wanted him to divide the funds they held jointly, and they quarreled over that. And it surprised me that Virginia’s portrait has been removed from that room. Her parents had her portrait painted when she was sixteen, and it’s hung over the mantel as long as I’ve been in the family. I’d like to know why it’s been taken down, but the whole room has been redecorated, so perhaps I’m imagining things.”
“I thought that was a Monet hanging over the mantel, so they must have spent a lot of money redoing the room. Perhaps Stephanie wants the house to reflect her personality rather than the Perrys. Or it might be that, after Virginia was killed, George found it too painful to see her face every day.”
Connie believed God had heard and answered her prayer, for it seemed easier to speak dispassionately of Virginia.
“I guess our next move is to find Debbie Smith. Are you free to go with me tomorrow?” Joseph asked.
“Yes, but not until after church. I’m going to worship with my parents in the morning. Would you like to come with us?”
“I’d enjoy that very much.”
Since they held chapel services at NLC on Sunday morning, Connie didn’t often attend church with her parents, and she welcomed the opportunity to worship with Joseph—it would be the first time they’d gone to church together. The congregation was a new fellowship, one her parents had helped organize three years ago. While they raised funds to erect a building, the congregation had purchased a Quonset hut for their meetings, which would be used as a gymnasium when they could afford a new sanctuary.
Connie was very conscious of Joseph as he sat between her and Beverly. They had refrained from touching for so many weeks that when she rubbed shoulders with him on the crowded pews, her heart overflowed with love for him. Were his senses responding to her in the same way? She thought it must be so, for with his arms crossed in front of him, he gently pinched her forearm. Startled, she glanced at him, and he smiled warmly, and the look in his eyes spoke loudly of his love for her. For a precious moment, they were secluded on an imaginary island, but the enchantment dissipated when the minister announced the number of the first hymn.
The simplicity of the building and its furnishings didn’t detract from the warmth of the worship. The preacher—a senior citizen who’d come out of retirement to help organize the new fellowship—took his text from the book of Philippians: “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
How unusual that the minister used the same text that Connie had read a few nights ago! She hoped that the words would also bring assurance to Joseph’s heart, as it had to hers.
Joseph focused on the words transcends all understanding. In spite of his uncertain future, it amazed him that the peace of God flooded his soul this morning. During the closing hymn, at the invitation of the preacher, Joseph went forward to pray.
As he knelt on the concrete floor, Connie appeared beside him and slipped her hand into his. Speaking lowly, so that no one could hear except Connie, he prayed, “God, thank you for the peace of mind that I have this morning. I can’t understand why You love me enough to be concerned about my affairs, but I believe You are. The next few days may be crucial for my happiness, and Connie’s. Please help me to focus on You and Your promise, ‘if You’re for me, who can be against me.’ Amen.”
As soon as Joseph started heading his pickup northeast out of Denver, Connie said, “I finally hit pay dirt on that clipping. I had an e-mail message last night from a newspaper in a small southern California town. Two people were involved in the holdup, and although they both wore ski masks, the clerk thought one of them was a woman because of her petite body, slender, well-formed hands and the turquoise necklace she was wearing. It’s possible there was a third person driving the getaway car.”
“Then it could have been Virginia, the necklace implicates her and she did have shapely hands and she took care of them. I’d hoped she’d want to have a flower garden at the ranch, for I’ve never had time for that, and I like flowers, but she wasn’t about to dirty her hands in the soil.” He smiled wryly. “It’s obvious I didn’t know much about the woman
I married. What else did you learn?”
“The robbers didn’t get much money, but they cleaned out the drug department.”
“It’s inconceivable that a lethargic, shy woman like Virginia could ever be involved in a holdup, but if she had an addiction, she might have done most anything. No doubt that’s why she was kept in close confinement in her home for several months.” Joseph hit the steering wheel with his hand. “I still find it hard to forgive George and his parents for not telling me that. If I’d known she had a history of addiction, I would have tried to stop her alcohol consumption.”
Connie laid a hand on his shoulder. “The past few months, I’ve often repeated the words of the Apostle Paul, ‘Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on.’ Don’t allow the past to blight your future. You’ll be able to put it behind you when you sort out what happened to your wife.” Connie forced herself to acknowledge the fact that Virginia had been his wife. As much as it hurt, she would have to live with that knowledge the rest of her life. She couldn’t be jealous of what had happened before she met Joseph.
He squeezed her hand. “I know. It hurts much more when a friend betrays you.”
“Jesus was betrayed by one of His closest friends, and He forgave.”
“And I will, too, eventually.” He slowed for the exit to Brighton. “Did you find out anything else?”
“That one of the robbers was apprehended two months ago and charged with the crime, but he won’t give any information about the second party.”
He took his eyes off the road for a minute. “Well, that is a breakthrough! Maybe we can prove something after all.”
Joseph pulled a card from his pocket. “These are the directions I got. Check and see if I’m going in the right direction. I’m not familiar with Brighton.”
“I believe you turn right on the next street,” Connie said after she scanned the directions.
They were in a housing development of elaborate homes on large lots, most of them surrounded by stone walls. “It looks as if Debbie has done pretty well for herself. She was a friend Virginia picked up at college, and if I remember, her family had a medium income. Mrs. Perry wasn’t pleased with the friendship.”
“If you’ll excuse me for saying so, you must not have been on Virginia’s social scale either.”
“No, not at all, and I wondered why they would favor our marriage. Now that I’m beginning to understand why, I’m not sure it’s any credit to me.”
“Oh, I think you should be flattered. They wanted Virginia to marry an upstanding, clean-cut guy who’d take her away from her former friends, preferably out of the city, and guide her in a different direction.”
“Perhaps you’re right. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
“The problem lay in her past—it had nothing to do with you.”
He paused in front of a three-story stone house. “This must be it.”
A woman in her midthirties with bleached hair, a terrific tan and hard brown eyes opened the door soon after Joseph rang the bell. If she was disturbed by their presence, she hid it well.
“Well, Joseph Caldwell! What a surprise,” the woman said, her words tumbling out rapidly.
“Hello, Debbie. This is my friend, Connie Harmon. May we come in?”
“Certainly, Joseph. It’s been a long time since we’ve met.”
She invited them to sit in a small living room to the left of the entrance hall. “May I get you something to eat? A cola or lime crush?”
Connie shook her head, and Joseph said, “No, thank you. We had a large dinner not long ago.”
“I haven’t heard anything about you lately,” Debbie said. “I didn’t know if you were in jail or still in the hospital. The newspapers indicated you’d suffered a serious injury.”
“My injury was serious, but thanks to Connie, who operates a therapy center near Idaho Springs, I’m walking again.”
“Glad to hear it. Now what can I do for you?”
“From your comment, you obviously know that I’m a suspect in Virginia’s death. I know I’m innocent, and now that I’m well again, I intend to prove it by investigating the circumstances leading up to her death. I believe you have information that can help me find a solution to the mystery.”
“I’m certainly willing to help you, but I don’t know how I can. I haven’t seen Virginia for over three years, and except for a Christmas card or two, I’ve had no contact with her since I moved to California.”
“I don’t want information about her after we were married—it’s the years before I knew her that I’m investigating. As her closest friend, you should know quite a lot, especially the year the two of you traveled together.”
Debbie offered them a cigarette. When they declined, she took one from the package and tapped it on the table. Connie detected a slight tremor in her hand as she flicked a lighter and held it to the cigarette. Her hard brown eyes didn’t reveal anything, but she drew deeply on the cigarette and exhaled smoke through her nostrils before she answered.
“Really, Joseph! You don’t expect me to tell you everything we did. We did the usual things anyone does when they’re bumming around the country. What Virginia did before you were married isn’t any of your business.”
“It is if it had anything to do with her death, and I believe that her death, if it wasn’t accidental, was triggered by her past.” He took the newspaper clipping and beach photo from his pocket. “What can you tell me about either of these?”
She glanced at the two items, and carelessly dropped the clipping on the table. “I’ve never seen that before. But obviously that’s me in the picture. We were on a beach somewhere.”
“Who’s the man with you and Virginia?”
“A cousin of mine. He traveled with us part of the time.”
“What’s his name?”
“Stan Jarvis.” Debbie threw down the photo angrily. “What difference does it make? I can assure you that Stan wasn’t around here when Virginia was killed, and although this might wound your male ego, Stan knew Virginia long before you did. He used to visit her when her parents were away.”
That cleared up the identity of Virginia’s unknown visitor that Rose had mentioned, Joseph decided.
Connie nudged Joseph’s foot with the toe of her shoe, and he looked at her quickly. “According to my e-mail message, Stan Jarvis is the suspect apprehended in that pharmacy holdup.”
Debbie’s face flamed with anger, and she turned on Connie. “Who are you anyway? A detective?”
“I’m Joseph’s friend and physical therapist, and I’m interested in proving his innocence. Our Center is dedicated to the healing of the whole body. Joseph won’t heal completely until he’s no longer suspected of a crime.”
“All the pieces are beginning to fall into place,” Joseph said, and his gray eyes glinted with anger. “Jarvis was your husband’s name. Are you sure this guy is your cousin?”
“I might as well tell you, to save you the trouble of finding out what’s common knowledge. Stan and I are distant cousins, but I married him four years ago, and divorced him last year.”
“So the three of you held up that pharmacy. Virginia and Stan went inside, and you drove the getaway car. It all fits into place.”
Debbie bounded out of her chair, and her voice shook until her words were almost unintelligible. “I don’t like your insinuations. None of us were near that pharmacy the day of the holdup.”
“The police must think that Stan was, or they wouldn’t have arrested him.”
“Police have been known to make mistakes. But if you think you can manufacture an alibi for yourself by pinning Virginia’s death on Stan, think again. He was in a San Francisco hospital the whole month of January this year, and if I remember right, Virginia was killed in January. I learned about it when I got back from Hawaii, where I was vacationing in January, so both Stan and I have airtight alibis for the day Virginia died.” She motioned them toward the door. “Get out of here, and don�
��t bother me again. I hope they put you in prison and throw away the key.”
Connie felt like a dog must feel when it had been whipped, as she crawled back into the truck with Joseph. His eyes were wretched, and he said, as he backed out of the driveway, “I’m sorry you had to experience that, Connie. I don’t know why you put up with me—I’ve given you nothing but trouble.”
She managed a light laugh. “This is the second time in so many days we’ve been asked to leave a house, so I’m getting used to it. But, Joseph, I’m getting scared. I’m not sure we should be doing this ourselves. Like George Perry, Debbie knows more than she’s telling, and if she was involved in that robbery, she’ll try to stop you from learning anything else. Why don’t you take the facts you have and turn them over to the authorities? Stan Jarvis’s trial is scheduled for next month, and the information you have might secure his conviction.”
“I don’t know enough to interest the police yet, but I agree there could be some danger, and I don’t want you involved. I’ll continue the investigation on my own.”
“I’m already involved, and I’ll keep searching as long as you do.”
He pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store. “Let’s stop here and consolidate what information we have. If Stan was in the hospital when Virginia was killed, and I believe Debbie was telling the truth, then Virginia’s fall was an accident, or another person was involved.”
“Are we overlooking something important?”
“Possibly. I still think Virginia’s problems are connected to that holdup. Although Stan can’t be implicated in Virginia’s death, he could have blackmailed her, for her last cash withdrawal was in November. And except for some joint securities she held with George that she couldn’t touch, she had nothing left.”
“Perhaps Debbie is the one who did the blackmailing. I couldn’t help wondering where she’d gotten the money to buy that house. You said her family wasn’t wealthy.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind that it was built with Virginia’s inheritance. I think the reason Stan won’t tell the authorities about Virginia’s involvement is that he doesn’t want his name connected with hers because that could also lead to a blackmail charge. It may be that both Debbie and Stan conspired to blackmail Virginia, and probably got married so they wouldn’t have to testify against each other. The thing that galls me is why Virginia didn’t tell me. I was naive enough to believe we didn’t keep any secrets from each other. How wrong I was!”
