“But we don’t want the criminal to get away,” Calla said.
“Then why…” He stopped, heaving a deep sigh. “Damn. The gang is on the loose again.”
“We’re not a gang,” they said together.
“Practice that line for when the judge adds a conspiracy charge,” he retorted.
“What did you mean, ‘the players involved’?” Victoria asked, preferring not to imagine that courtroom scenario.
“Public officials, teachers and government employees are held to a higher standard than the general public when it comes to concealing crimes. They can be charged with obstruction of justice, which is much more serious than being an accessory after the fact.”
“How could a judge charge us with conspiracy?” Victoria asked, since that was exactly what was going on in this crazy house.
“Are you complicit? Did you help the perpetrator get away with the crime—before or after the act itself?”
They didn’t intend to let the thief get away, but if they compromised the evidence and scene of the crime—which, given her and Mrs. K’s poking around, they’d already done—that could ultimately happen. The whole business was growing more complicated and dangerous by the hour.
Still, “accessory after the fact” didn’t sound so bad. At least not bad enough to land them in prison.
“Ms. Holmes,” the detective said, breaking into her thoughts, “have you committed a crime?”
“No.”
“Has anyone in the room with you right now committed a crime?”
“No.” Victoria paused, but forged ahead after a frantic nod by Calla. “We’re playing a trivia game. All purely innocent.”
“Would you say I’m the least gullible person you know?” the detective asked.
Victoria felt no satisfaction in admitting she’d been right about this plan having no chance of working. “You’re certainly in the top three. But we’d like to ask you about a personal matter.”
Calla’s eyes widened. This time she gave Victoria a vigorous head shake. Good grief, not that personal.
Ignoring Calla’s panic attack, Victoria asked Devin, “Could you do a financial background investigation of a friend? Her name is Rose Rutherford.”
“I know that name.”
“She owns the house we’re staying in.”
“Then I’d say her financial background is pretty solid. Have a nice day.”
“Don’t hang up,” Calla begged. “We need help.”
“Sure thing,” he replied, his tone biting. “I can spend my morning working for you guys. We’re just skipping through the meadow around here at the NYPD. Not a single piece of paper on anyone’s desk. Not a phone has rung all morning. Criminals seem to have taken the day off.” He paused meaningfully. “Except for your gang, of course.”
“We’re not a gang,” they all said automatically.
“Glad to hear it. Let me know who wins the game.”
They exchanged frustrated glances. It seemed undeniably arrogant and selfish of them to expect the detective to do their research. That was Richard’s way. But Victoria had hung her promotion hopes around his neck.
“Please, Devin,” Calla finally said, her voice soft.
If that didn’t do it…
Antonio sighed. “Okay, fine. Whatever. I’ll see what I can find out. But I think you’re wasting your time. The Rutherfords are loaded.”
“While you’re looking into her, would you check out a few more people?” Calla asked sweetly, then listed the names of everyone at the house party, including Jared and Mrs. Keegan.
Though Victoria instinctively doubted either of the last two on Calla’s list was guilty, she guessed it couldn’t hurt to be thorough. Maybe if they presented all their findings to the sheriff, he wouldn’t be so quick to arrest them for accessory, conspiracy or in general being stupid enough to think they could be better cops than the cops.
“Anything else?” the detective asked. “I live to serve.”
“We really appreciate this,” Shelby said. “Next week I’ll bring by some of those chocolate peanut butter cookies you like so much.”
He grunted, apparently his idea of gratitude.
“Drink lots of water and orange juice,” Calla advised.
“Or a Bloody Mary,” Shelby added. “Though if you’re on duty, a Virgin Mary. And get some rest.”
“Yeah, sure,” Antonio said. “I’ve had hangovers before.”
Victoria made a mental note to make a donation to the Law Enforcement Memorial Fund. Cookies were a comfort, but she didn’t cook, and she did have plenty of money.
Just before Calla pressed the button to disconnect the call, his voice rose from the speaker. “You three didn’t kill anybody, did you?”
“No,” they said in unison.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
* * *
PLAYING BARTENDER AT RICHARD’S urging, Jared glanced toward the living-room doorway for what had to be the twentieth time.
Where is she?
Everyone else had already arrived for cocktail hour and were happily sipping drinks. After his and Victoria’s afternoon at the beach, his need to be with her had multiplied a hundredfold. Even during his cold shower, he hadn’t been able to block the vision of her toned body in that yellow bikini. Or the desire-filled smile on her face as she’d leaned toward him for a kiss.
After again noticing the empty doorway, he reached into the minifridge for a beer. He’d bet his prize heifer her lateness had something to do with that damn necklace and Richard’s burden of making her promise to find it.
He sipped and watched the guests gather by the bar. Shelby was passing around a tray of appetizers, while the others had conversations in duos and trios.
Peter, as usual, was rambling on to Richard. “The atmosphere at Coleman PR is competitive, of course, but most of us thrive on pressure. It’s just who we are.”
Rose was telling David about spending the afternoon fielding calls from neighbors, excited about the party planned for the following night.
“I was a high school science teacher before I met Peter,” he heard Emily say to Calla. “Now all I seem to do is throw dinner parties for his clients.”
Speaking of dinner…tonight’s menu was something to look forward to. He was starving, so veal medallions, twice-baked potatoes and grilled asparagus sounded like—
He halted as Victoria strode into the room.
She wore a body-hugging white dress and sky-high gold shoes with needlelike heels that made Jared break out in a cold sweat. She looked left, then right, hesitating when she saw Peter and Richard. Ultimately, though, she headed straight toward Jared. “You’re working hard today.”
Predictably, thanks to her nearness, his heart thrummed wildly in his chest. “I sort of volunteered.”
She raised her eyebrows, perfectly arched over her crystal blue eyes.
“After Richard suggested I volunteer.”
She let out a delighted laugh that made every muscle in Jared’s body come to attention. “Seems I’m not the only one vulnerable to suggestion.”
“I’m up for anything you’ve got.”
“Same goes.”
He leaned over the bar. “How about a boat ride after dinner?” he whispered.
“We did that last night.”
“Nobody but you and me are invited tonight.”
“Sounds…private.”
“That’s the idea.” He pulled a fro
sted glass from the icebox, then flipped it. “Very cold vodka martini, straight up, two olives?” When she looked surprised, he added, “Shelby told me.”
“Nice,” Victoria said after her first sip.
He noted a sparkling ring on her middle finger that hadn’t been there the night before. It was delicate, unlike Rose’s over-the-top necklace, and suited Victoria flawlessly.
“What did I miss this afternoon after I went inside?” she asked. “Anybody confess to taking the necklace?”
“Sorry, no. What were you and your friends doing closed up in your room?”
She gave him a long study. “Girl talk.”
“About me or the thief?”
“Some of both. You’re curious.”
“You’re vague. And they came down long before you did. Are you one of those women who take forever to get ready for everything?”
She paused with her glass halfway to her mouth. “One of those women?”
“Yeah, you know, ones who’re primping and changing clothes all the time. I like to know what I’m getting into.”
“Right now, you’re putting your private boat ride in serious jeopardy.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Kidding. I’m only kidding.”
“Well, cut it out. I’m one of those women who aren’t the butt of jokes very often.”
“Really? Why?”
“I know you may find this hard to believe, but I intimidate a lot of people.”
He stroked the back of her hand. “Not to worry. Us adventurers are a tough lot.”
“Good to know.” She sipped her drink. “Did Emily ever get up on the skis?”
He’d been expecting Victoria to turn around and frown over Peter monopolizing Richard, so it took him a second to process her question. “No, but neither did Richard.” He retrieved his beer from under the counter. “The surf was rough.”
“So I noticed.”
“You did pretty well.” He paused, but couldn’t resist needling her again. “For a city girl.”
She nudged his arm. “A city girl who spends her fair share of time at the gym.”
“I could tell you didn’t get your body by sitting in a boardroom.”
“You, too. Though with your job, I imagine staying in shape is a requirement.”
“It helps. But my job’s not the only thing—”
“Victoria,” Richard said as he approached, “I was wondering where you were. Peter seems to be everywhere.”
Jared squeezed his beer bottle so tightly he was surprised it didn’t shatter.
Victoria showed no such emotion, though Jared imagined she felt the same way. Her gaze flicked to her rival. “I’ve always thought Peter was amazingly agile.”
He was slippery, all right. Victoria was running around solving Richard’s problems, while he let Peter fawn over him and think he had a chance at the contract. Which he didn’t. As long as Victoria found that cursed necklace…
Jared resented the whole damn situation, and didn’t like Richard compromising everybody’s ethics in order to save his reputation. Jared didn’t care a whit whether those gems were in somebody’s suitcase or at the bottom of the sea. But he was going to do everything in his power to make sure Victoria found the thief and got her precious contract.
Even though he’d much rather see Richard fall on his pampered ass.
Peter captured Victoria’s hand and brushed his lips over the back of it, while Jared clenched his jaw. “We have to use the talents given to us,” Peter said. “Not everyone has Victoria’s looks and designer wardrobe to fall back on.”
A flicker of resentment darted through Victoria’s eyes.
And for good reason. With Peter implying her beauty and family money were the reason for her success, it was no wonder she wanted to beat him so badly.
“Those classes in grooming and fashion at Harvard have really come in handy,” she said, her tone packed with sarcasm.
Richard, possibly sensing Victoria was on the verge of crushing Peter beneath her stiletto, handed Jared his empty tumbler. “How about a refill? I can’t imagine what’s holding up dinner.”
Jared would be happy to play bartender for hours. Maybe tipsy guests would lead to a confession.
But he’d just handed Richard the fresh drink when Mrs. K appeared in the doorway and announced the meal.
As everyone wandered into the dining room, Jared made sure he walked next to Victoria. “I take it Peter doesn’t have an Ivy League diploma?” he said close to her ear.
“If he has a degree at all, it’s probably mail order.”
But was he clever or desperate enough to snatch a valuable necklace from right under their noses?
And if so, why?
10
AS DESSERT WAS BEING SERVED, Rose stood and tapped her spoon against her wineglass. “I have an exciting announcement.”
You found that stupid, ostentatious necklace that’s keeping Victoria from fully enjoying the important things this weekend. Such as me.
Jared’s selfish thought was doomed to remain unfulfilled, he realized when Rose declared, “We’re adding costumes to the party tomorrow night!”
Seated across from him, Victoria gave her hostess a strained smile before her gaze locked with his. What’s this bunch of bull? he could imagine her saying.
And he doubted anybody at the table besides Rose thought costumes were a good idea.
“That’s a marvelous suggestion, Mother,” Richard said, clearly amused. “But I left my superhero cape back in the city.”
“Not to worry.” Rose was practically bouncing with delight. “I have all the costumes in the attic. They’re premier fashions from the 1920s. I’ve been saving them forever, and there are plenty to choose from for men and women. It’s going to be such fun.”
Only Ruthie was brave enough to say what everybody else was no doubt thinking. “You want us all to wear a bunch of old clothes that have been sitting in the dusty attic for ninety years?”
Rose let out a huff. “They may be vintage, but they’re not dusty. They’ve been pristinely preserved in airtight bags and a cedar trunk. Our lovely dinner party tomorrow night will be dedicated to the memory of my necklace, the stones of which were mined during those jovial years.” She gave a dramatic sniff. “I might never get it back, you know.”
“How are all the neighbors going to come up with costumes on such short notice?” Richard asked.
For once, Jared was grateful to hear his opinion.
“They won’t be wearing them,” Rose explained. “I have only enough for us. We’re the hosts.”
As she beamed, Jared mentally reviewed his contract. He was pretty positive costume-wearing wasn’t mentioned anywhere.
Unfortunately, before anybody could voice another objection, Rose turned to Shelby. “Do you think you can make a historically inspired meal?”
Shelby looked a bit startled to be put on the spot, and was probably wondering how she was going to change the menu with less than a day’s notice, but she nodded. “I’m sure I can come up with something.”
“Great.” Rose beamed. “It’s settled. Remember, cocktails and hors d’oeuvres start at six.” She turned to Sal. “Would you mind helping me and Mrs. Keegan bring down the costumes from the attic?”
“I need to check my email,” Richard said, surging to his feet. “I’ll see all of you in the morning.”
The other guests also suddenly professed vi
tal plans. Obviously, no one wanted to spend the rest of the night sorting through old clothes, no matter how well preserved. Jared could hardly blame them. The next pile of clothes he wanted to see were his and Victoria’s, tossed on the floor.
Peter stretched dramatically. “I’m beat. Come on, Emily. Let’s turn in.”
His wife looked as if she was going to argue. It was barely ten o’clock after all. Throwing her husband a resentful glare, she pushed herself to her feet and followed him from the room.
Shelby, Calla and Ruthie headed off toward the kitchen, chattering about wanting to see the pictures Calla had taken during the day, which she’d copied to her laptop. David was recruited to help Sal and Rose.
In a few miraculous minutes, Jared and Victoria were alone. He rocked back on his heels. “So, Ms. Holmes, what would you like to do?”
Victoria made a show of considering her options. “How about a boat ride?” she finally suggested.
He offered his arm. “I’m at your service.”
The landscape lighting illuminated the sidewalk, dock and pool area, casting an ethereal glow on the trees swaying in the ocean breeze. As mood setter, it was perfect.
She slipped off her heels when they reached the dock. “Using costumes at a dinner party as a coping mechanism for losing a priceless necklace is pretty strange, don’t you think?”
“Better than sitting in a dark corner with a bottle of whiskey.”
“True. So we all get to look ridiculous instead.”
“Everybody but you and me.”
She cast a sideways glance at him. “How are we going to get out of it?”
“I doubt any of the clothes will be large enough to fit me.” He jumped onto the boat, then extended his hand to help her aboard. “And you could never look ridiculous no matter what you’re wearing.”
“Sometimes you say the nicest things.”
“Sometimes?”
“A lot of the time.”
Breathless on the Beach Page 12
