Jewel Hiest

by Keller, J. J.

  Water boiled, sending off a piercing whistle. She dropped the half-eaten banana in the waste basket, turned off the burner and moved the kettle to a cool one. Ready to tear the packet, she halted. Cocoa equaled caffeine. Instant beverage forgotten, she grabbed a bottled water from the counter top. Walking through the living area, she snatched her sketchbook from the floor and entered the bedroom to collapse on the bed. Exhausted from that insignificant jaunt, she mentally added vitamins to her purchase list.

  Covering her bent legs with the white cotton blanket, she propped the sketchpad on her lap. She reached for a pencil on the bedside table, clicked the switch on the lamp, and flipped open the hard cardboard surface. Busy fingers meant she wouldn’t be reaching to touch the wound to feel the contours, the threads, the reminder about life and how quickly one could be ended.

  Her hand worked the pencil on its own, without clear thought, sketching an intricate angel. Beautiful in its simple glory of gossamer wings, tiny touches of ice to the pointed ends of the wings would be a nice touch. The face was heart-shaped without detailed features. A bell skirt lay in waves around her ankles. Mary drew a rod extending from the underskirt. She drafted an equally striking male angel with mesh wings formed by thick scrolls, a strong face with a firm jaw, and attached a pole to his outstretched hand. They would be quite attractive in a floral arrangement, vase or planter.

  Chilled air alerted her. She must have fallen asleep, as over more than an hour had passed. Chatter from her friends, one new and one old drew closer.

  “Hey, how are you doing?” Phoenix, poised at the end of the bed, had flaming cheeks and equally scarlet lips.

  Mary glanced into the living area, where Devon placed bags and a beverage carry tray on the coffee table. His entire face was red. Hmm. Something was amiss.

  A flash of romance tickled her heart. Mary smiled, calculating rendezvous in her mind. “Great. I’m starving. What have you been doing?”

  “We stopped by Devon’s office to get you vitamins and antibiotics.” Phoenix dropped her black overcoat onto the barrel chair. “You’ll need to eat first.”

  Mary followed Phoenix’s glance into the living room. Devon must have taken the bags and moved to the kitchen. “Devon?”

  Phoenix tilted her head as if the question wasn’t one at all.

  “He got pregnancy vitamins. Did get your groove on after two nights?” Her voice rose at the end, indicating an unlikely possibility.

  “Don’t know if I am. I’d love to be.”

  Dishes rattled as Devon came into the room. “Here you go, semi-hot breakfast. Scrambled eggs, toast and yogurt.”

  “They didn’t have a small container of milk, but I did get green tea. I’ll get it for you.” Cheeks pink, Phoenix rushed from the room.

  Mary slipped the sketchbook to the side and took the tray from Devon. The pungent odor of eggs and slight burnt aroma from the toast made her stomach churn and nauseous at the same time. “Thanks, Devon, for everything.”

  “You’re welcome.” His face wasn’t as red as earlier. He dug into his pockets and withdrew two plastic containers. “We went to my office and then to a drugstore. I got antibiotics and vitamins. I obtained the prenatal ones. Pregnant or not, the iron will aid in carrying oxygen to help rebuild the skin. The folic acid and calcium are excellent also. There’s only a month’s worth here, so if you are pregnant, we need to find an OB for you. I’ll see if any of my friends are in the region. If not–”

  “Here you go.” Phoenix stopped short. “Am I interrupting anything?”

  Her face lost all color. She carefully placed the cup on the side table and dropped to the edge of the bed. “You’re not pregnant by him, are you?”

  “No.” Mary’s response was echoed by Devon’s.

  Ah, hah. There was a spark of tenderness in the air between Devon and Phoenix.

  In order to keep quiet, Mary shoved food into her mouth. She didn’t want to discuss John in this forum and didn’t plan to talk about pregnancy until she found out if she was positive or negative. The crunch of toast as she bit off a piece could probably be heard by Dane in the main house.

  “Devon, will you help me bring in the boxes from the car?” Phoenix asked.

  “Sure.”

  Coats in place, they left in a wave of silence. Mary took a taste of the egg. Tasty, but she preferred no yolk. She opened the sealed plastic container and sniffed. Blueberry yogurt. She took a hearty spoonful, to find it was homemade. The cool, smooth fruit embedded in cream slid down her throat. Perfect. Soon the treat was gone, but the fresh scent of blueberries remained in the air.

  Mary took the tray to the kitchen, dumped the remains down the disposal and got rid of the trash. Her teeth felt fuzzy. Back in the bathroom, she brushed away the slimy covering, adding mint to the blueberry. Red and swollen, the black Xs of the stitches stood out on her skin. She glanced at the pill bottles on the side table. Deciding to take a vitamin and one of the antibiotics, she struggled with the caps and then downed the tablets with a significant amount of lukewarm honey-sweetened green tea.

  Under the covers again, she brought her sketchbook onto her lap. What was taking Phoenix and Devon so long? As she flipped to the angel drawing, the door opened.

  A suitcase landed on the bottom of her bed, and a large box on the floor at the end. “Here is a large box of band aids, so you won’t have any reason to use duct tape again.” He smiled.

  Mary shoved the sketch to the side and leaned forward. “Thanks. What else did you bring me?”

  “Winter clothes. Thought they’d be important. A lightweight jacket. We’ll have to purchase a winter coat for you. There was a country store in the next county. They had a nice selection. I’ll unpack the stuff. Probably what you’ll be most interested in is in here.”

  “I’m sorry, but I need to leave. I have patients to see. I’ll return this evening. Mary, I took the liberty of calling Frank and telling him you wouldn’t be in today.” Devon held his stained white shirt in his hand and the black bag in his other.

  Mary leaned on her heels. “Thank you. Did you reassure him I’d go to Mrs. Landware’s tomorrow?”

  A low rumble, somewhere in his chest, fought to get out. “Yes. I told him I’d take you myself.”

  She plopped her rear onto the mattress. “That’s not necessary. You’ve done enough.”

  Phoenix removed her coat and tossed it onto the blue chair in the corner. “Who is Mrs. Landware?”

  “A client of the floral shop. I’m going to decorate her house for the holidays.” Mary smiled. She liked working with the plants and flowers, maybe more than jewelry design. Again, the thought of settling in Cage cemented.

  “I’ll take her,” Phoenix announced.

  “Why don’t we all go together? I’ll be here tomorrow at eight sharp.” He pivoted and walked out the door.

  “Is he always like that?” Teeth clicking on the zipper of the suitcase followed her question.

  “I don’t know him very well, but if I were to guess, yes, he is like that. Why don’t you know these people? You’ve been to visit Dane before.” Mary clawed a thin, long sleeved t-shirt from the suitcase.

  Phoenix removed a blouse and carried it to the closet, slipped it on a hanger and repeated the action with another clothing piece. “They’ve only lived here for three years and I haven’t been introduced to a lot of the neighbors. No, they’ve been here for three or four. I was supposed to attend a dinner party last night and meet everyone, but I couldn’t get through some construction zones. Detours took me a long way off course.” She piled a few athletic items on the side of the bed.

  “While you’re telling me about your attraction to Devon, will you hand me the surprises in the box?” For the first time in three weeks, hope and excitement thrilled her. She was going to be all right, and Phoenix was here.

  Phoenix gaped at her. “I’m not attracted to Devon.” She bent and scooted the container to the side of the bed. “This was heavy. I’m glad he dragged the bo
x in for me.”

  As cardboard flaps rubbed together, Mary whispered, “But you kissed him.”

  Phoenix’s head popped up, then she fell onto her rear. “How did you know?”

  Mary chuckled and slid a t-shirt over her tank top. “Written all over both of your faces.” She glanced into the box. “So you might be coming to visit me quite a bit?”

  “Yes, of course I’ll visit. Should I be interested in him? I don’t know anything about him. Other than he’s a sweet and gorgeous doctor.” She hauled a metal tool chest from inside.

  “Yes, you’re a good match with Devon. Oh, Phoenix, you’re the best friend ever. Thank you for my kit.” Mary slipped her legs from the side of the bed and sat on the floor in front of the toolbox. Latches flicked and she opened the top. A touch to a button on the front released two sets of drawers. Her tools, pliers, tweezers, shears, saws and wax gleamed in the overhead light. In the bottom were her flex shaft machine, soldering devices, scales, blades and wire wrapping tools. Ring stretchers, stone grading and gem instruments as well as hammers, glues and solvents were layered. Burs, drill bits, gauges and measuring devices were in the crate on top. Missing from the valuable stash were her small screwdrivers. To confirm, she sorted through the items again.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Not really, just a couple of things missing. Files and small screwdrivers. I only have a couple inches of twenty-two gauge yellow gold wire and a small jump ring of white gold. I have a project and could have used a five-point-three millimeter, twenty gauge ring.”

  “You think Conrad took your bits and pieces.”

  “Maybe, or his partner.” She jerked her neck to look at Phoenix, regretting the quick motion as the stitches pulled and fresh pain rippled through her neck. “Have you heard from the police? Did they get Conrad? Do you know who helped him?”

  Too fast and too much agony came to her mind and affected her stomach. Mary closed the case, choked back the bile lodged in her throat and took a deep breath.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m a little dizzy. Guess I moved my neck too far. Please help me climb into bed.” Mary held out her arm.

  Phoenix latched onto Mary’s bicep and threw back the cover that had been dragged to the edge with her earlier. “Here you go.”

  Mary fell onto the mattress and moved her legs under the sheet and blanket. “Whew. I guess that little bit of activity took some energy.”

  “Devon told you to rest today.” Phoenix frowned and then moved the toolbox to the side and finished unloading the first carton.

  “Oh, Phoenix, shoes. I wanted shoes. Thank you so much.”

  Phoenix touched Mary’s forehead. “Your fever has reduced, despite all of your moving around. I’m going to stow this luggage in the closet and take the box out to the trash can. Then I’m going to raid Dane’s fridge for some supplies and make soup for you. While I’m doing that, you are to sleep. Got it?”

  “Yes, Mommy Dearest.” Mary shut her eyes. She didn’t want her heartbreak to affect Phoenix, who, from the blushes appearing every time Devon’s name came into play, was at the edge of falling in love.

  “Who is this?”

  Mary pried open her eyelids and glanced toward Phoenix, who held the sketchpad.

  “The donor.”

  Chapter 15

  John knew Bushard’s Vermont destination, so he didn’t follow her immediately, instead chose to sleep for the first time in weeks. The next day, he contacted Debbie to verify her status and investigated Phoenix’s brother.

  John’s tires bumped and squeaked as he navigated over the cobbled streets of the quaint hamlet of Cage. Twenty minutes later, he parked in the lot of a New England style house with a squeaking shingle on a metal chain identifying the building as Molly’s Place. He positioned his car across the street and walked inside. A sign indicating Find a seat and I’ll be right with you had been propped at the entrance.

  None of the tables were open, so he took a stool at the counter. An overweight woman wearing a turban, green dress and ruffled crisp apron plopped a glass of less-than-crystal water in front of him. “What’ll ya have?

  “The special.” He moved the glass of water. “And an Evian, if you have one.”

  “Liver and onions and coffee right up.”

  She had to be kidding. What had happened to Vermont’s promotion of maple syrup? He watched her sway. Her large hips skimmed a rushing boy carrying a tray of dirty dishes. She opened the fridge and removed a clear glass bottle.

  The container banged against the ceramic bar top and immediately after, she handed him a menu. He appreciated a saucy waitress, and he imagined she was quite snappy.

  “We only carry local bottled water, Clear Springs. The meatloaf is good, the chicken soup is fresh, but I recommend the Swiss steak.” Her narrow face didn’t budge from its dour expression. She dropped her hands on her hips and tapped her fingers against the stained cloth.

  “Thank you for the review, ah…”

  “Princess.”

  “Princess.” Very difficult to say with a straight face. He handed the menu back. “Steak and sides of your choice.”

  Princess strutted away, grabbing a coffee carafe along the way.

  A glance around the crowded, steamy room didn’t expose Waterman or Mary, although the likelihood of her being there was nil. Locals occupied the chairs, as indicated by the head nods and shouting across tables. One cop wearing a chocolate striped brown uniform chatted with a curvy blonde wearing a third of the uniform Princess sported.

  A plate of food was shoved onto the silver shelf. A few clicks to his cellphone, and he brought up Mary’s photo as his waitress grabbed the platter from the hot source.

  “Here you go,” she said, setting his order before him. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “I do. Have you seen this woman?” He held out his phone, moving the face so the light wouldn’t blind her.

  Her eyes widened and then she lowered them to the memo pad. “No.”

  She wrote on the slip of paper, ripped the ticket and weighted it down with a salt shaker. Princess meandered to the end of the counter, chased the blonde away and whispered into the cop’s ear. A moment later, the tree swaggered toward John.

  John’s attention focused on the meal in front of him. The aromas from gravy, fresh whipped potatoes and sweet corn tantalized his nostrils. A taste proved the food to be as delicious as the scents.

  “Hello. I’m Sheriff Todd.” He extended a hand, the fingers resembling franks.

  John sighed, put down his fork, reached around his wool overcoat and into his suit jacket pocket. Handing the credentials to the cop, he waited as the man evaluated them. He believed his old police detective badge held more weight than the ACI ID.

  Sheriff Todd returned the holder and took the next seat. “Okay. Who are you looking for, detective?”

  John removed a twenty from his pants pocket and placed it under the salt shaker. He replaced the ID into his jacket and brought Mary’s photo onto his cell.

  Todd nodded, glanced around and leaned in. “Why are you looking for her?”

  “She was a witness to a robbery and is in danger.” John went on to explain the theft and that Andee Waterman, an armed and dangerous criminal, would be coming or was currently in the area.

  Todd dropped from the stool and hiked his pants. “We’ll watch out for the little lady.”

  John stood. “I’ll take care of Keefe. You keep a look-out for Waterman. I’ll have his photo emailed to your station. Confidentiality is imperative, Sheriff Todd. We don’t want to spook him. I want him to return to jail.”

  “She works at the Garden and Floral Design Center over on Route Three. She’s staying in Bushard’s onWinding Way.” Sheriff Todd sniffed and placed a palm on the butt of his pistol. “But you can leave. We take care of our own.”

  “I’m staying.”

  Todd nodded.

  John left the cafe, surprised and pleased his plan was unfolding with
out little effort. He popped a stick of gum in his mouth, enjoying the fresh spearmint flavor as he entered Winding Way into his GPS. A few moments later, his stomach roiled in anxiety. He turned onto the lane leading to Three Rivers Estate. What if she…didn’t want him?

  Bushard’s concrete drive was wide and wrapped around in a full circle. The place resembled Wuthering Heights, at least the one in the movie, complete with a brick path winding around the side. He smiled, remembering how he surprised his sister by agreeing to watch the extremely boring movie with her.

  A white SUV was parked in a separate lane leading to the guest house. Outdoor lights lit the stones, directing him from the secondary structure to the seemingly empty main house. He parked behind a row of bushes at least two stories in height, got out of the car and took a run around the property, looking for exit points.

  Stake-outs were his least favorite activity, and not having performed the mundane task in over five years, he’d forgotten how much he disliked the job. He crossed the rear portico and traipsed through a stack of pungent decaying leaves until he came in sight of the rear of the guest house. The lights clicked on, but he didn’t see a shadowed outline inside. Was she at home, or had a timer been set? When he scouted the perimeter, all the windows had shades drawn, shielding the interior. John reentered his car and waited.

  Time crept by. John could be wasting precious moments if Phoenix was actually here to visit her brother. No, Mary had to be here. The cop had confirmed the fact. Why else would California-born Waterman travel to Vermont, the East Coast, instead of the familiar ground of the sunny West Coast?