Boxed Set: Darling Valley Cozy Mystery Series featuring amateur female sleuth Olivia M. Granville

by Cassie Page

  “Tuesday thought it was a cat. I went searching in the neighborhood for it.”

  “Well that was silly of you. Who ever would confuse a baby with a cat?”

  Olivia let that one go, too. “Is that why you let Tuesday read your tea leaves?”

  “Of course. Why else would I put up with that nonsense.”

  Olivia patted Tuesday’s arm consolingly.

  Mrs. Harmon continued. “Vittorio has been a dear, shopping for baby food and finding toys and things to amuse her.”

  Olivia jerked up, wincing at the pain. “Vittorio? Vittorio’s been helping you? How does Vittorio know Victoria?”

  “Why you sent him over here to check on the lighting. As soon as he looked at her, I knew we had a match. Of course, she has to recover from all this, get over Jed. But in time. You should see them together. Mark my word. A match made in heaven if you ask me.”

  Well, there goes my own matchmaking career, Olivia thought. Poor Carrie.

  14:2

  In the end, Olivia accepted the ride in Marguerite Fredericks’ new Bentley, an anniversary gift from her husband. Tuesday and Matt would ride with her as well. Charles preferred to drive his own 1929 Cord L-29, but even Matt was star struck about riding in the Fredericks’ posh car. Cody preferred Charles’ quarter of million-dollar ride and they planned to meet up at the party.

  Tuesday wore her purple faux monkey fur shrug, flipping it over her shoulder as if it were a white fox stole a la Jean Harlow in the 1930’s. Olivia had grabbed a bottle of peroxide out of her hands earlier in the day. “You’ll regret it tomorrow when you turn back into a pumpkin and the Bentley becomes my battered pick up truck.”

  Tuesday said, “Or the Bentley becomes a pumpkin and I turn into a pickup truck?”

  “Something like that,” Olivia said returning the peroxide to the bathroom cabinet.

  Cody texted that they would be a little late. They were waiting for Charles’ date to finish getting ready. “Probably Mrs. Harmon,” Olivia explained to Tuesday. She thought she heard Charles say he would give her a ride.

  Once they had nestled into the plush back seat of the car, Johnson in the front seat with the chauffeur--Olivia had finagled an invitation for him as the head of security--Matt filled Olivia and Tuesday in on Alistair’s confession.

  He started out with a warning, “You won’t find anything this crazy on a TV reality show.” He started counting off the plots on his fingers. “It all started with Hamish Walsh.”

  Tuesday said, “There goes his Nobel Peace Prize.”

  Matt explained that Hamish met Ruth Marsh on a dating site.

  “They Skyped for a while then met up in Phoenix only to discover that they had a distinct lack of chemistry. However, what they did have in common was a taste for larceny. Ruth Marsh was a kind of savant. She never went to art school but she just had to look at a painting and she could copy it practically with her eyes closed. She had a photographic memory for brush strokes.”

  Olivia said, “So she’s an artist. I’ve never heard of her.”

  Matt stretched his long legs in the roomy car. “I wonder if I could get the Police Department to sign off on one of these. It’s way more comfortable than a squad car.”

  Johnson joked over his shoulders, “And I get to drive.”

  Matt said, “You get us one of these and you can drive it all you want. But no, Olivia, you wouldn’t have heard of Ruth Marsh. She can only copy the work of others. Apparently she has no artistic vision of her own. However, she did get a degree in art history and earned her living teaching art in high school.”

  Olivia struggled to find a position that didn’t irritate the stitches in her side. Matt moved over to give her more room, but it still didn’t help. “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “Tell us more about the loving couple.”

  “I’m piecing together some of this because, of course, Alistair wasn’t in on their conversations. But it seems Hamish floated the idea of Ruth copying famous art works and he’d sell them to his clients. He had a readymade market. When he became aware that Charles Bacon was right under his nose, a man with very deep pockets, no knowledge of art, and a museum that needed to be filled with art, he came up with his grand scheme.”

  “Okay,” Olivia said, “but where does Alistair come in?”

  “Pierre Ballard had been named the curator for the museum and they decided to put someone in his shop to finagle the acquisitions for the museum. The acquisitions would be Ruth’s phony paintings. Pierre’s gallery would get a commission, but the big money would go to Hamish and Ruth. They’d already set up a website to pass themselves off as art dealers.”

  Olivia was incredulous. “Alistair? They picked him? How did he get past Rocky? I’m sure Pierre’s assistant would have seen through him.”

  Again, Matt had the answer. “He had a rather thin background with only a certificate in art history. I guess he was following in his sister’s shoes. But they groomed him for his interview. Hamish wrote a glowing recommendation and he got hired. Once they had pulled the wool over the eyes of the aging Pierre, and with Rocky, his assistant, far away in New York, they figured they could pass Ruth’s copies off on a country bumpkin like Charles for hundreds of thousands of dollars. Then Ruth figured, why wait for the museum. It was her idea to sell that phony Sutcliffe picture to Marguerite Fredericks. Apparently, Ruth came out here to deliver the painting.”

  Tuesday snapped her fingers. “That’s why I bumped into Alistair at Paymoor’s. He was buying the tea for Ruth to put the finishing touches on it.”

  Olivia laughed. “I’d like to have seen Hamish’s face when he found out I had sent a photo to Pierre who instantly declared it a fake.”

  Matt nodded. “He never dreamed you would see it, and then report it to Pierre.”

  Matt checked with Olivia again to see that she was comfortable. She noticed he was hovering, unusually attentive. She liked it.

  When he was sure she was okay, he said, “Like his sister, Alistair’s a natural born schemer. He weaseled his way onto the project and got himself invited to the groundbreaking. He was just checking out the site the night Jed was killed. He found a petrified finger and an arrowhead. From his childhood in Snowflake, Arizona, Native American country if there ever was any, he quickly realized they were on a burial site and what it would mean to the museum.

  “He told me he never intended to kill Jed. He said the guy just appeared out of nowhere, asking him to give up what he had found, the finger and so on. Alistair couldn’t let that happen. He knew he had to keep his finds a secret. So they scuffled. He was as surprised as Jed was when he pushed him with his logging tool, the hookaroon, and the young man went down.”

  Olivia and Tuesday blurted out, “The what?” in unison. Tuesday said, “Hookaroon? You’re making that up. What is it, a toy?”

  Matt chuckled. “That’s what I thought when it was identified. It’s a tool that loggers use and people who stack wood for their fireplaces or wood stoves. It’s like a bat or a club with a spike at the end for moving logs around. Jed was holding it and Alistair grabbed it out of his hands. He claims he just pushed him with it, but I don’t trust a lot of what he says. It’s the weapon that ties him to Jed’s death.”

  Olivia said, “That’s what punctured my neck and my side? Oh, gross. So then what?”

  “He couldn’t rouse him and he panicked, so he called his sister and Hamish. They told him to hide the body. He had no idea he was burying him in the groundbreaking site. Little did he know had he placed him right where the TV cameras would have a perfect shot.”

  They were turning a corner to head up into the hills and Olivia fell sideways. Matt put a protective arm around her to steady her. Olivia smiled at him and he left it there. She asked, “But why did he come after Sonia and me? We had nothing to do with his plans.”

  Matt said, “Our friend Alistair has a short fuse. Both of you embarrassed him in public and it was retribution. He still had the hookaroon and decided to use i
t.”

  Matt finished up his story just as they were pulling into the Fredericks’ driveway.

  “Alistair has a very little patience for anyone insulting him. He went after Sonia because she had embarrassed him at some meeting at Charles’ house, and Olivia, you had been a target from the beginning because of, as he put it, your continual insults.”

  “Were all those death threats to warn me to shut up?”

  Matt shrugged. “We don’t know yet. We still have a lot of questions to ask him. But it seems Ruth, as the older sister, ragged on him one two many times. In a fit of anger he killed her and threw her in the lake. He’s not a sailor. The knots he used to weigh her down with some concrete blocks didn’t hold and she floated to the surface.”

  Tuesday said, “That poor guy just can’t catch a break. And on that cheery note, let’s party.”

  As Olivia and Tuesday gathered up their evening bags, Matt told them that Alistair and Hamish were being arraigned on charges of murder, conspiracy to commit murder, art fraud and wire fraud.

  They exited the car in the parking lot. Johnson was out first and he helped Olivia. The chauffeur drove around to the garage, the four of them looking back at it wistfully.

  14:3

  The threesome made their way back to the pool house. Olivia had to stop and take it all in. It was more beautiful than she had imagined. Lights everywhere gave the enormous garden and lawn a warm glow, from pastel lanterns floating on the pool to strings of tiny bulbs hanging from the shrubbery and trees glittering like diamonds. The show stopper was an arch made of flowers with a neon sign over it that spelled Love, under which Marguerite and Richard had decided at the last minute to renew their vows. Flower arrangements gave the look of a tropical paradise, fragrant and lush. The soft music had guests swaying and laughing as Carrie’s servers moved quietly among them with trays of champagne and Hugo’s masterful hors d’oeuvres. Marguerite had ordered spotlights to shine on the new addition to her mansion, the pool house.

  Tuesday clapped her hands in delight. “It’s like the premiere of Gone With The Wind.”

  Olivia found Carrie and Cody and complimented them on their efforts in her absence. Carrie had spent almost the entire day there. “Carrie, you’re proving yourself to be quite the event coordinator.”

  Carrie batted her long, luxurious eyelashes. “One does what one can.”

  Olivia looked at Cody to see if he registered her humor and charm. He was picking a speck of something out of his glass. Olivia felt like hitting him over the head to wake him up to the treasure in front of him.

  Vittorio came up to Olivia escorting Victoria Fisher and Mrs. Harmon. Olivia almost didn’t recognize the electrician, one of the few men in black tie, no doubt his mother’s doing.

  Victoria was dressed very plainly and smiled bleakly as she was introduced to the rest of Olivia’s friends. She helped herself to a cheese puff from the server making the rounds, Vittorio taking advantage to whisper in Olivia’s ear, “Maybe too soon for her to be out, do you think? I just thought it would cheer her up.”

  Olivia said, “It’s a very nice gesture, but you know she has a painful road ahead.”

  He nodded. “Anything I can do for her. I’m a very patient guy.”

  Olivia patted his arm and smiled. If anyone deserved a stroke of good fortune, it was Jed Fisher’s widow. She suspected Victoria would find it in Vittorio.

  Carrie called a server over with a tray of drinks. Tuesday and Matt accepted a glass, but Olivia said no to champagne as she was still relying on her pain pills to help her move around without too much discomfort. But she said yes to imported mineral water, taking a sip as Charles and a young woman she didn’t recognize came up to them. Olivia was stunned when Charles introduced his date. “Olivia, you remember Franny. Dr. Lauren?”

  Someone or something had transformed the environmentalist. She had blond highlights where the gray in her hair had been, flattering makeup set off excellent bone structure and her huge expressive eyes. Olivia guessed that Charles’ dresser had had a hand in choosing her lovely, formfitting gown.

  As Olivia regained her composure after that surprise, she realized it made perfect sense. Franny’s life was deeply connected to the earth, while Charles was, more than anyone she could recall, a man who was completely down to earth.

  When Charles extended his hand for the handshake they usually exchanged, Olivia held on and pulled him to her. She whispered in his ear, “You old sly fox. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He beamed and whispered back, “She’s a doll, isn’t she? You don’t think it’s too soon, after Ellie and all?”

  Olivia grinned and said, “I couldn’t be more pleased. And it’s absolutely time.”

  Olivia spotted Sonia and her husband walking down the path to the party and waved them over. Sonia air kissed Olivia, careful now of her injuries. She introduced her husband, a workers’ compensation lawyer who clearly doted on his wife, immediately excusing himself to find her a drink. Olivia observed that Sonia, as at the bank, ruled the roost in their home. They arrived just in time to hear Francesca in her lecture mode explaining her findings to Matt and the others.

  “It is believed that the Clovis people came over a land bridge from Asia and eventually populated North America. They are considered by many archeologists to be the first people in North America. The oldest Clovis settlement was found in Oregon. It is thirteen thousand years old, but in this case we think the remains are older by two thousand years, which is an extraordinary find. It confirms what some people in the field believe, that there were humans here before the Clovis.”

  Franny raised her glass to toast the discovery. “Here’s to those old souls.”

  The group didn’t have a response other than to smile and return the toast. Franny continued.

  “We found a total of four bones and some shards that were probably tools, but there is no evidence of a settlement. I suspect they came from an individual who somehow got separated from his clan and wandered down from the north west. He was carrying those relics. They were his tools and implements. Was he ostracized from his community, an advance scout for people on the move or a lone survivor of a cataclysmic event? We just don’t know. At any rate, he met his end on that hillside. We’ll never know his history, but if you were looking for Native Americans, notably Miwok, we didn’t find them. What we did find was something better, one of the First Americans.”

  Olivia heard someone whistle behind her. It was Russ who had just arrived with a new assistant on his arm.

  “So you’re telling us there is no way those protestors can hold up construction? Man that calls for a toast.”

  He raised his glass, then looked around. “Where’s Scott? Anybody seen him yet?”

  Matt had the answer. “He skipped town. He saw his company going down the drain and panicked. His wife found him in a hotel in San Francisco, ashamed to face us. He had nothing to do with the murders, but he did know Jed had found something important. He was trying to hide the discovery by telling Jed they were nothing.”

  Olivia asked, “So does this mean he will resume his role of general contractor?”

  Matt said, “Beats me. That’s for you all to work out. Right now, we’re having a party.”

  Finally, Marguerite found them and greeted Olivia with open arms. Olivia winced in pain, then introduced Charles and Franny, Matt and Russ. Johnson, Sonia and her husband had wandered over to Jesse’s oyster bar. As a result of the success of the museum finally getting off the ground, Marguerite had invited Charles and the rest of Olivia’s friends.

  She took Charles by the arm. “I just don’t know enough about your museum, my dear. I’m thinking that perhaps I can head a fundraising committee. Have you selected your board yet?”

  Charles winked at Olivia, setting off a chain reaction. Perhaps it was the pain pills but a sense of well being flooded her, as she looked around at her friends. She’d had a hard time finding acceptance in Darling Valley, but here she was a guest
of the Fredricks with her new family around her. Cody, Carrie, Matt, and above all, Charles Bacon. And yes, she’d even include Russ and Johnson in that number. And Jesse, shucking oysters. Johnson had showed real concern when he greeted her tonight and had been instrumental in tracking down Alistair. Yes, she thought. I’ve left Los Angeles and Brooks Baker behind. I’m finally home.

  After they renewed their vows, Richard Fredericks gave a speech congratulating his wife for putting up with him for twenty-five years and thanking Olivia for the wonderful job on the pool house. “Skinny dipping anyone?” he joked. “Olivia’s put plenty of towels in the bathroom.”

  Everybody laughed and why not? The balmy evening, the wonderful food and champagne, the good fortune of the hosts all led to a feeling of felicitousness shared by all, except all of a sudden, Olivia. She began to feel a growing unease. There had been no mention of the carrot, the remodel of the main house she believed she was promised.

  She began grousing to herself about all that she had done for Marguerite, including saving her from the clutches of Hamish Walsh.

  The festivities were taking a toll. She began to feel weary and whispered to Matt that she was ready to go home. As if hearing of her departure, Marguerite appeared at her arm.

  “Olivia, darling. There’s someone I want you to meet. He’s this brilliant architect from Los Angeles and we have discovered we are absolute soul mates. I must do a project with him. Perhaps you can come on board as his assistant. He’s going to be around here quite a bit in the future. I want to introduce him to you. You’ll keep bumping into each other, anyway, I’m sure.”

  She looked around. “Now where is he, oh yes, there he is.” She waved her guest over.

  Olivia felt a chill. Surely not. No, losing the big house job was one thing. She’d get over that. But this? She’d leave Darling Valley. She’d take a new identity where he could never find her. Yet there he was.

  “Olivia, meet my newest friend and colleague, Brooks Baker.”