As he waited, a woman stepped up beside him and cleared her throat.
“Excuse me, did I see you come in with Miss Sylvia?”
Bill nodded. He didn’t know the woman, but he didn’t necessarily know all of Sylvia’s acquaintances.
“I’d love to speak with her, but I can see she’s busy with the group in there. You see, Miss Sylvia was supposed to contact me the next time she discovered a historic diary in the area. I’m writing a book about the local history.”
The word diary made Bill stiffen.
“You don’t know if she has located one, do you?”
“No. I’m only the taxi driver.”
The woman laughed. “Oh, come now. Everyone knows you and Sylvia are best friends. I’m sure she would confide in you.”
Just then the Maître d’ stepped up and offered to take Bill to his table.
“I’m sure if Miss Sylvia told you she would contact you, she will... when she has something to show you.” Bill huffed as he walked away.
When he looked back, the woman had turned and was glaring across the room at Miss Sylvia. The look on her face made Bill uncomfortable.
An hour later, when Bill took the final bite of his tiramisu, Sylvia appeared next to the table. She seemed relaxed and happy.
“Bill, did you enjoy your dinner?”
Bill tossed down the napkin and stood. “Yes, Ma’am. It was delicious.”
“Oh, I’m so glad. Well, it’s official. The ladies have voted me in as president of the group. Of course, that’s only because I’m the oldest one in the room.”
“You don’t act half as old as some of them.”
Sylvia nodded. “Did I see you talking to someone earlier? An old friend? She could have joined you.”
Bill’s eyebrows drew together.
“Not my friend. She said she was a friend of yours. Wanted to know if you’d found any local diaries lately because she was writing a book.”
Sylvia looked surprised. “Hmm, well, I have a friend named Eileen who is writing a book about local history. I did promise if I found a diary, I’d let her know. But since I found the Pendecot diary, I haven’t had time to contact her. But I don’t think that looked like Eileen.”
On the drive home, Sylvia nibbled her bottom lip. “I think I’ll call Eileen tomorrow. Ask if that was her you met.”
“Good idea. If it was, I’m sorry to say I was a bit cold to her. The thought of that diary got my shackles up. I wish you would give it to the police.”
“But Bill, I tried. Officer McClan is sure the diary has nothing to do with Hubert’s death. He is positive that the whole thing is about those coins. I’ll tell you what. I’ll finish reading the diary tonight, and tomorrow I’ll take it Officer McClan and insist he keep it until Hubert’s death is completely solved.”
Bill was silent, but inside he wished Miss Sylvia would just get rid of the diary right away.
Sylvia closed the diary, unsatisfied. Most boring thing I’ve ever read, but as far as I can see there is no reference to where she may have hidden her jewels, if that’s what she did with them at all. The only significant thing I can find is that Mary Pendecot was a bitter woman. She resented Alice’s childish interest in the jewels.
“Today I put my jewels away so that Alice cannot touch them or play with them. She has no interest in me, only the bright shiny jewelry. I wish she loved me as a granddaughter should. Am I really so unlovable?”
Throughout the diary were sketches of different rooms in the Pendecot house, it seemed the woman had hoped to be an artist but was never allowed to indulge her desires so she was content with drawing in her diary.
There was one sketch of the library, one of the dining room, a sketch of the desk Sylvia had purchased and finally a sketch of the wall of small mirrors Sylvia had noticed in the mansion.
Sylvia squinted, searching the drawings, hoping to find some kind of clue on them; but nothing came to light.
There was one thing that bothered her. It was something about the sketch of the wall of mirrors, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Miss Sylvia, customer out here. He’s asking about the books. I don’t know enough to answer his questions.” Jason had poked his head into the back room with a look of desperation on his face.
Sylvia laughed. “Okay, Jason. I’ll be right out.” Sylvia made her way to the front. However, when she saw the customer standing by the bookshelves, she stopped. It was the short blonde man who had casually looked at the desk at the estate sale.
She hesitated before moving forward but finally glided across the room.
“Jason says you have some questions about books?” She stopped beside the man. He looked up, slightly startled.
“Oh, yes. I was wondering about your first editions. Do you have a special section where you keep them?”
Sylvia glared at him suspiciously. “Are you sure it’s first editions you want, or is it diaries?”
The man shook his head. “No, I’m a book collector. Not really interested in diaries.”
“What about coins? Collect old coins, do you?”
The man seemed confused and murmured, “No, just books.”
Sylvia scolded herself. The man was obviously not after the diary or coins. She led him to the first edition bookshelf and left him happily perusing them.
What is wrong with me? she asked herself. I can’t go around assuming everyone who walks in the door is after that stupid diary.
Later that day, Sylvia sat at Cup N Cake, drinking a cup of coffee. She watched as all the locals came and went. Almost everyone stopped and asked how she was doing or wanted to discuss Hubert’s murder.
At one point, the door opened, and her friend Eileen entered the shop. She didn’t notice Sylvia but headed straight to the counter and ordered.
Sylvia wanted to speak with her to find out if she was the woman who approached Bill. She assumed once Eileen turned and noticed her, she would come over and talk to her.
Just then, a man entered and moved in line behind Eileen. Her friend turned around and started speaking to him in an animated way. Sylvia sat staring at them, her heart palpitating from the shock. She was surprised. The man was the blonde gentleman who had been looking for books in her shop.
Now Sylvia was suspicious. First, Eileen asking about the diary, and then the man searching her bookshelves. Was it actually a subterfuge? Had he been watching, searching, hoping to find information about the diary? And what could Eileen have to do with it?
Eileen and the man left Cup N Cake together, never even speaking to Sylvia.
Chapter 12
“Bill, I’m concerned about Eileen.” Sylvia said to Bill as they sat in her parlor sipping a cup of tea. Most taxi drivers wouldn’t be invited into a person’s house, but Sylvia and Bill had formed such a bond of friendship over the years, Sylvia often asked him in for tea.
Bill set his cup down on the small end table. “Why?”
“Well, first it seems she approached you with questions about a diary, then I see her talking to the man who was in my shop the other day.”
Bill cocked his head. “Did he ask about the diary?”
Sylvia sat back with a huff. “That’s just it; he didn’t. He only wanted to look at my first edition books. At first, I thought he was looking for information on the diary or the coins, but I had finally convinced myself he wasn’t interested in the diary.”
“But now?”
“Now that I’ve seen him with Eileen, both so friendly, it has stirred up all my questions again.”
Bill reached over and patted his friend’s hand in a gentle manner. “Now, Sylvia. Don’t get all riled up. There’s sure to be some kind of explanation. Why not ring up Eileen on the phone?”
Sylvia set her teacup down. “Do you think I should, really?”
“Yes, really.” He assured her. “I’m sure you will find there is something quite innocent in it all.”
Sylvia stood and placed the teacups on the tea tray and
lifted it to carry it to the kitchen.
Bill stood. “I better get going. You make that call as soon as you can. Call me at six tonight, let me know what you found out.”
Sylvia laughed as she walked from the room. “I promise to call you.”
Bill slipped on his jacket and walked out the front door, got in his taxi and drove away.
Sylvia had just finished eating a small casserole. The aroma filled the air.
Mmm, I love New England Shepard Pie. It’s always been my favorite.
She was sitting at the table, pen in hand, with the diary opened. She had decided to go through it again, and make notes, to see if she had missed any type of cryptic, hidden message, which would lead to the answer of the missing jewels.
Suddenly, she heard a sound, and her head popped up. Her eyes opened wide.
“What are you doing here? How did you get into my house?” Her eyes scanned the person and landed on the small gun, pointed straight at her.
“I’ve come to get that diary. I’ve tried several times but failed. Now, you’ve had it long enough to read the whole thing. You must know where the Pendecot jewels are.”
Sylvia’s lip trembled. “I assure you, I don’t.”
The person waved the gun slightly. “We are going to the Pendecot mansion. You will show me where the jewels are.”
Sylvia shook her head. “I…I really don’t know.”
Sylvia watched as a crazed expression crossed the person’s face. She swallowed and nodded. “I’ll come along with you; perhaps we can figure it out together.”
A strange laugh gurgled across the room, making Sylvia cringe. The pen in her hand moved quickly across the paper, then she set it down, picked up the diary and began to walk out of the room.
“I’m positive something has happened to Miss Sylvia.” Bill’s voice trembled as he spoke into his cell phone. “I’m standing right here in her kitchen. She’s not here, but she wrote across her note pad in large letters PENDECOT MANSION.”
Officer McClan ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to rush over if Miss Sylvia had just gone out with some friends. However, he knew as well as anyone else, she never went anywhere unless Bill drove her.
“I’ll head over to the Pendecot mansion. You stay there in case she returns.” Bill barely mumbled an answer. He knew Bill would probably beat him to the mansion.
“Now look, I don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt anyone, but you know what I’m capable of so just tell me where the jewels are hidden.”
Sylvia’s knees felt weak. Her stomach cramped, and she thought she might faint. She held onto the railing on the front porch.
“How will we get in?”
“Oh, you know old people. They always hide a key around. I found it a few days ago.”
Sylvia’s captor slipped the key in the lock, turned it and opened the door.
“We won’t be able to see anything,” Sylvia pulled back.
“The electricity hasn’t been turned off yet. Probably will be tomorrow. I’ll just turn the hall light on.”
Sylvia moved toward the door and stepped inside. She realized, if she were younger, she could have made a run for it, gotten away. But at her age, she decided going along was her best chance. She only hoped Bill would miss her and find her hurriedly scratched note.
They were both in the hall, and the front door was closed and locked behind them. “Now, show me where the jewels are!”
“I honestly don’t know. I read the entire diary, I took notes, I tried to figure it out, but I didn’t find any clues.”
A hard hand grabbed her wrist and twisted. Sylvia gasped in pain. “Then I suggest you start looking around. See if anything comes to mind. I’m not leaving until I have those jewels, and you’re not leaving alive if I don’t get them.”
Sylvia rubbed her wrist and nodded. “So, you killed Hubert?”
“Yes. That other fool hit him in the head and got to the coins in the desk before I could. But I still thought the diary was in the desk so when he started to roust around, I killed him.”
Sylvia swallowed and stared at the gun pointed at her. Lord, help me.
Sylvia began to walk through each room, trying to recall anything in the diary that might give her some indication of where the jewels were hidden, but after a half hour she was no closer to finding them.
Just as she was about to collapse from the fear and excitement, she stepped into the hallway and glanced up at the wall of mirrors. She stood for some time staring at them.
What is it about these mirrors that continue to bother me?
Suddenly, she opened the diary and began to flip through the pages, until she found the page with the sketch of the mirrored wall.
“That’s it.” She almost shouted.
“What’s it?”
“The mirrored wall. There is one mirror, right in the middle that isn’t set in as far and is a bit crooked. That mirror is circled in the diary sketch.”
The murderer’s eyes searched the wall then an evil grin spread across her face.
“So that’s where she hid them. I should have known; she was always singing that strange song about endless reflections. She was taunting me with it.”
“Alice, may I please sit down?” Sylvia asked the woman. It was obvious she planned to begin ripping the mirror from the wall.
Alice barely acknowledged her with a curt nod. “Just don’t move.”
“Why don’t you think Mary Pendecot left her money and jewels to you?” Sylvia asked. She hoped Bill had contacted the police by now and would show up soon. If Alice found the jewels behind the mirror, she would probably kill Sylvia and leave her body behind.
“She hated me. She caught me a few times trying on the jewels, and she hid them away. She told me that I was naughty to get into her jewelry box, and now that they were hidden, I would never see them again. But I vowed to find them and keep them.”
Sylvia sank onto a hard chair against the wall.
“I came to visit her every year. Pretended to love her. I was good to her, but she would never show me the jewels again. I searched this house over and over again, but I could never find them. She also hid her diary somewhere in the desk, but I was never able to get to it.”
“And are you the one who broke into my store?”
“Yes. I thought you found the diary and added it to your book collection. Then I thought you had it in your purse…”
Sylvia sat quietly, watching as Alice reached out and touched the mirror. She began to twist, and Sylvia heard the clicking sound.
“It wasn’t even locked.” Alice cried out in surprise.
The small mirror swung forward, revealing an opening behind it.
“This was clever,” Alice started to reach her hand into the opening, but suddenly her wrist was caught, and the gun was yanked from her other hand.
She’d been so busy with the mirrors; she hadn’t noticed Bill and Officer McClan enter the room. Officer McClan grabbed the gun, while Bill stopped her from touching the jewels.
Alice turned crazed eyes on the men and screamed, “No, no… you must let me have my jewels. You must…” The woman whimpered.
But Officer McClan placed the handcuffs on her and was already steering her out the door. Over his shoulder, he called out, “Bill, find those jewels, then you and Miss Sylvia come to the station. We are going to need statements from you both.”
Bill reached in and pulled out a large velvet bag. He slipped it open and gave a long whistle.
Sylvia pushed herself to a standing position, moved across the room and looked into the bag. She gave her head a shake.
“It’s sad to think some pretty rocks could make a woman lose her mind. You know, I really think Alice Pendecot is crazy. But, perhaps, Mary was too. So much of her diary was filled with her strange phobias and fears about people trying to steal her jewels.”
“Must run in the bloodline.”
“Yes, and Mary hated Alice because Alice loved the jewels an
d not her.”
Bill turned, and Sylvia placed her hand in the crook of his arm. They walked out of the mansion together.
“Shall I write about all this in my blog?” Sylvia asked Bill.
“Hmm, maybe you should write a book about it. Sounds more like a mystery to me.”
“But I wasn’t able to solve it. I didn’t even suspect Alice until she showed up with a gun. I was sure Eileen and the blonde-haired man were guilty.”
Bill laughed. “Well, that’s a whole other mystery to solve.”
Bill opened the taxi door, and Sylvia slid in. Before he could close the door, she looked up at him and said,
“Bill, there’s going to be an estate sale in New Hampshire a few days before the Coast Drive Mile Long Yard Sale. Gathe, Jennifer and Jason are working it together. Gathe assures me there are rooms full of books and several old desks. I’m sure I’ll find a diary there.”
Bill groaned and closed the door; but as he walked around to the front, a deep chuckle tumbled out of him.
teresa ives lilly
Teresa Ives Lilly loves to write Christian Fiction. In general, she writes novella length romance, but has been known to write a mystery or two and full-length novels. Her novel, “Orphan Train Bride” quickly went to number one on Amazon’s best seller list and stayed in the top ten for two weeks when first published. She has participated in many novella collections which have also been on the Amazon’s best seller list. She is published by Winged Publications and Barbour Books
Teresa would love to hear from her readers at [email protected]
Readers can follow Teresa at www.teresalilly.wordpress.com
Teresa is always thankful for positive reviews left on Amazon for her books.
Here is a sample chapter from Teresa’s next Harbor Inn mystery
Donations and Demise
CHAPTER ONE
“She’s been at it again,” Patty Silver shouted from the back room of the thrift store. Katie was glad there were no customers shopping yet. Patty was a great employee and friend, but she didn’t quite understand the meaning of a quaint and quiet shop.
Diary and Death Page 7
