by Sonia Parin
“Yes ma’am.”
“And then I think we should head over to the antique jewelry store and introduce ourselves to Joel Ellison. I still believe he’s a player.”
“Will you come straight out and accuse him?” Jill asked. “That’s always worked for you in the past.”
Only when she’d been cornered… “Anyone hearing you would think I plan ahead.” When in fact she always made it up as she went.
“You think well on your feet, Eve. I think it might have something to do with your background and experience as a chef. I’ve watched you in the kitchen and you’re always making decisions on the spot.”
Eve tilted her head in thought. “Is this your version of giving me a pep talk?”
“I guess it is. I’m all the way here where it’s safe and you’re putting your neck on the line. Again. You’re to be commended. Your courage and determination haven’t dwindled once.”
Eve slowed down and turned into the alleyway leading to the back of Florence’s store. The crime scene tape remained in place as did the glass from her broken car window. She parked the car and went straight to the corner to retrieve the crate.
“The key is gone. That means the killer had been in a hurry to get away.” Eve frowned. “Does that count as an assumption?”
“Yes, I think it does,” Jill said. “But I think it’s a safe assumption.”
Needing to double-check, Eve stretched and reached further along the guttering. She found the nail, but no key. “I think the killer must still have the key. Although, this is still a guessing game. For all we know, Jamie used the key to gain access into the store and the killer followed him in. After he killed Jamie, he took possession of the key.”
“It’s a solid theory and I’m willing to bet you’ve hit the proverbial nail on the head. Although… Why would the killer take the key after he’d killed Jamie?”
Eve had to admit Jill had a point. “The only way we’ll ever know for sure is if the killer is caught and confesses.”
Back in the SUV, Eve clamped her fingers around the steering wheel and looked into space. “What do we know so far?”
“Let me see… We know you should go with your gut instinct and the general rule of thumb.”
Eve frowned. “Which one?”
“Possession is nine tenths of the law. You had the cameras in your possession, Eve. All that time, you had actual proof of dubious activities going on at Florence’s house.”
“Something tells me the argument wouldn’t stand up in court, not when it comes down to tampering with possible evidence. I’d be skating on thin ice and taunting the police to take drastic measures.” Eve shook her head. “No, I couldn’t be so deliberately negligent. The cameras had to be handed over. Anyway, that’s not what I was referring to.”
Jill yelped.
“Jill? Do I have to rush to your rescue?”
“Jack just startled me.”
Jack’s face filled the screen. “Hey, there. I hear you’re up to no good.”
“You’ve been talking to David. That’s twice he’s snitched on me.”
“Someone has to keep tabs on you and I hear he’s not the only one. Are you okay?”
“Yes, perfectly fine. Thank you for asking.” She heard Jill explain what they’d discovered the night before.
“What? What is the world coming to? Eve Lloyd doesn’t have a line-up of suspects? It must be driving you nuts,” Jack said.
“I keep telling the detective to look into that man we spotted in the store, but he refuses to take me seriously.”
“Jack just rolled up his sleeves. I think he’s going to work the case with us,” Jill said.
Eve saw Jack grin.
“What do you know about this man you saw in the store, Eve?” Jack asked.
“Only that he’s younger than everyone who’s ever attended the diners at Florence’s house and that he purchased a tool that could have been used to break a window… and… well, that’s about it. Oh, we also strongly believe this is all about blackmail.”
Jack smiled. “Yes, I heard about the little birds.”
Eve leaned back and sighed. “What if the blackmailers demanded wine as the currency?”
“Blackmailers? There’s more than one?” Jack asked.
“Yes, we’ve been playing around with the idea of a blackmailing ring.”
Jack laughed. “I can see why Mira has been suggesting you take up writing.”
Eve straightened. “Let’s forget about birds and wine and think about age. It’s a common denominator. All the guests in the photo are over sixty and one of them is coughing up a lot of money to pay the blackmailer. That money is coming from somewhere.”
“Someone’s inheritance,” Jill said.
“Exactly.”
Jack cleared his throat. “I… I have to agree. I think you might be onto something worth looking into.”
“You don’t have to sound so astonished.”
“Sorry,” Jack apologized. “I just had a rare glimpse of how you bounce ideas around.”
“It’s only worth anything if someone can actually tie it all in with concrete proof.” Eve rolled up her sleeves.
“Here she goes,” Jill said.
“Let’s put ourselves in the killer’s shoes. He’s annoyed. He can’t keep watching his inheritance dwindling. He has to put a stop to it. How does he do that?”
Jill gasped. “You’ve brought us back full circle to the reason for blackmail.”
Eve gave a firm nod. Yes. There were two people affected by blackmail. The person being blackmailed and the person who would otherwise stand to eventually inherit money. Tilting her head, Eve thought to add the spouse. If a wife found out about money disappearing, she too would be none too pleased.
“Jack, we need your help. Jill and I haven’t been able to find any worthwhile background information on the guests appearing in that photo. You have more tools at your disposal. Would you mind stepping on someone else’s toes?”
“Whatever it takes to get you back home safely. Can you promise me you’ll stick to theory and not stray away from the house?”
“Sure, I can promise to try.”
Jack laughed. “Okay. I’ll take what I can get.”
Eve waited until Jill gave her the all clear. “He’s gone.”
“Okay. Now to confront Joel Ellison.” Eve bit the edge of her lip. She had no idea what she’d say to the man but she had to somehow get him to admit to something. Surely, he had to be on tenterhooks, counting down the minutes until the police found something on him…
Chapter Thirty
“I’m sorry. Mr. Ellison is not available.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Eve asked. “He’s in the office but he’s busy or he’s just not available to see me?”
“Yes.”
“Yes to which one?” Eve’s voice hitched up. A customer wearing an expensive twin set and pearls gasped and took a step away from her.
The young woman behind the counter offered her a brisk smile. “I’ll be happy to help you.”
“I doubt you can since it’s Joel Ellison I wish to speak with.” This time, Eve made sure her voice rose more than a notch. “I’m not budging until he agrees to speak with me.” Eve looked down at her cell phone and saw Jill giving her a nod of approval and encouragement.
The sales person pursed her lips and disappeared into the backroom.
Jill grinned. “That’s telling ‘em, Eve.”
Eve whispered, “Do you realize what this means?” She didn’t wait for Jill to answer. “He must have peeked around the corner and recognized me, which means he’s seen me around Florence’s house.”
“Yes, a sure sign of guilt, and he might actually be looking at you right now through the security camera,” Jill said.
“I hadn’t noticed it.” Eve looked up into the corner. The little black orb had a red light blinking. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin as if to convey her intention to stay put.
Momen
ts later, a man wearing a gray three-piece suit emerged from the backroom. Eve recognized him from the photo David had taken of him when he’d sold him her cameras.
“I’ll take it from here, Miriam.”
“Yes, sir.”
Eve smiled warmly. “Joel Ellison?”
He nodded and gestured for her to follow. “My office is through here.”
Eve expected to be shown through to a small room. Instead, she stepped inside a sumptuous office with a large desk that looked like an antique. Joel Ellison sat down and steepled his fingers.
Eve opened with, “I understand you knew Bertie Buchanan.”
He gave a small, cautious nod.
“Did you have a long-standing association with him?”
After a few moments, Joel Ellison leaned forward. “Are you with the police? I don’t recall seeing your badge.”
Eve lifted her chin. “I’m here on behalf of Florence Buchanan. I believe you know her.” Eve didn’t wait for him to answer. “You were a guest at the Buchanan house, but you were more than that.”
His eyebrows moved slightly. “What exactly are you implying?”
Eve shot straight from the hip. “I’m saying that you, Bertie Buchanan and Stew Woodridge were involved in a scheme to extort money from other guests.” There might have been others involved, but these three men were the only ones whose names had jumped out and raised questions in Eve’s mind.
Joel Ellison’s expression froze.
Eve continued, “I’m thinking Bertie Buchanan was in charge of organizing the guest list. In other words, he set everyone up for you.” Had there been more than one blackmail victim?
“What an odd accusation to make,” he finally said. “What exactly is your interest in all this? Who are you?”
Eve leaned forward and looked him square in the eye. “I’m the woman who asks the tough questions.” She heard Jill snicker. “And I’ve been asked to look into the death of Jamie Woodridge. You’re familiar with the name.”
He visibly swallowed.
“I thought so. It must have annoyed you when his grandfather left him the cameras.” Eve smiled and decided to hit him with all her suspicions. “Yes, I know that’s where you hid the photo you used for blackmail. What happened? Did Stew Woodridge die before he could organize to hand over the incriminating photograph?”
He didn’t blink. His mouth set into a grim line. His nostrils flared.
Eve held his gaze. “You approached Jamie.” Eve shrugged. “Perhaps not directly. I’m thinking you got someone to do the dirty work for you. Jamie said someone was following him. He panicked and dumped the cameras at a friend’s house.”
“Intriguing,” he said smoothly.
“Is that what you’ll say when you face a murder rap?” Eve saw his eyes harden.
“What are you talking about?”
She leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice. “Things got out of hand. Jamie Woodridge wouldn’t play ball. You were prepared to do whatever it took to get the cameras back. So, you killed him.” She shrugged. “Or, you had him killed.”
“You have an active imagination and a lot of pluck to come here and make these groundless accusations.”
“I’m here because there is enough circumstantial evidence pointing the finger at you. Long story short, the cameras ended up in my possession and that’s when you snatched them. Perhaps not you directly, but you had a hand in it.”
His hands dropped to his lap.
Eve shifted back in her seat. “I should warn you, we’re not alone so don’t try anything shifty.”
His eyebrows drew downwards. He looked around him. “Not alone?”
Eve waved her cell phone and judging by Joel Ellison’s expression of surprise she assumed Jill had waved to him.
“Yes, there’s a witness. So, don’t even think about bumping me off.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Eve leaned forward. “You are implicated by association.” Eve wasn’t sure what that meant, but she decided it sounded convincing.
When his left cheek twitched, Eve knew she’d hit some sort of raw nerve so she went for broke. “There’s a fourth person involved in your scheme and that person is talking. Singing like a canary.” Seeing Joel Ellison relaxing and smiling suggested she’d missed the nail by a mile. Eve nearly floundered but then, she got a second wind. This time, she went for a Hail Mary. “She’s more of a witness.” She didn’t stop to think about putting Florence in danger, but she didn’t think Joel Ellison would take steps to harm Florence. Surely, he wouldn’t be so foolish.
“It’s all coming out into the open now,” Eve continued. “You can’t possibly think you can carry on your side business on your own. The game is up, Mr. Ellison, and you’ve been caught red-handed.”
He smiled and raised his hands. “This has all been very amusing. I can assure you the police have done their job and I am in the clear. I am, after all, innocent of any wrongdoing.”
“Of course, you’d say that.” Eve slid to the edge of the chair. “Just so we’re clear, this is what I think is happening here. Two of the main players are no longer around. You wanted to resume your blackmailing activities but you realize the game is up. Now you’re trying to cover your tracks. You think you’re in the clear because there’s no paper trail leading to you, but there is a trail and it reeks of Montrachet wine.”
* * *
“I wish I’d taken notes, Eve. You were magnificent. We could use it all for the mystery books you just have to write.”
Eve climbed into her SUV and slumped back. “I’m getting the hang of it. Did you pick up on anything unusual?”
Jill took a moment to think about it. “I noticed the photos on a table behind him. I couldn’t see the ones on his desk but they’re probably of his family too. He has a wife and a son. I didn’t see any other pictures of him with friends, nothing to actually connect him to Bertie Buchanan or Stew Woodridge.”
A wife and a son. “Did you get a close look at his son?”
“He has dark hair and he’s only as tall as Joel Ellison.”
Eve huffed out a breath. That put him in the clear. The man they’d seen in the store had been quite tall. “The police won’t find a paper trail or a money trail. That’s my guess. This isn’t about extorting money.”
“So why do you think Joel Ellison would have wanted to get his hands on that photo hidden in your camera?”
“He must have realized it’s too late now. He needs to destroy the evidence. He’s definitely not off the hook. After all, he implicated himself with those ads for the cameras. As you said, extortion money wouldn’t necessarily appear in someone’s bank statement.” What if she’d been right and the blackmailing ring used wine as currency? If the police found the evidence in the hands of the blackmailer, he could simply say the wine had been a gift. Shaking her head, Eve decided the only way to know for sure would be for the person being blackmailed to come forward and admit to being a victim.
Jill whooped. “Jack just walked in and, while he doesn’t look too pleased about it, he’s just given me a piece of paper.”
“Jack, hello.”
“Eve. What have you been up to?”
“Oh… nothing much. What about you?”
Jack sighed. “I’ve been running around doing research for you. You should know I’ve shared the information with Ken McLain.”
That meant he’d found something worth sharing! Eve straightened and smiled. Before she could ask Jack for more information, Jill whooped again.
“You’ll never guess what Jack found, Eve, so I’ll tell you. Does the Preservation of Endangered Species Association ring a bell?”
“Yes, but not specifically. I’m sure there are lots of such associations. Everyone wants to save something or other.” Eve screeched. “The missing link!”
“Yes.”
“Are you about to tell me one of the guests belongs to that association?”
“Yes. Mitcham R. Bryson.”
“The guest who purchased the expensive wine?”
“Yes.”
Eve stretched her arms out and shook her head. “That’s it. The photo found inside the camera shows him eating ortolans.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Eve, please don’t do anything rash,” Jill warned.
“Did Jack put you up to saying that?”
Jill nodded. “He made me promise to make sure you didn’t do anything that would land you in a tight spot. You’ve done your part, now it’s up to the police to use the information and look into it.”
According to David, the police had already interviewed Mitcham R. Bryson. Without a search warrant, they’d had to rely on courtesy and request to look around his home. While insisting he had nothing to hide, Mitcham R. Bryson had turned them down.
“He’s obviously hiding the fact he no longer has the bottles of wine. But why would he? If he admitted he’d been blackmailed, the blackmailers would be rounded up and he’d eventually get his wine back. Two hundred thousand dollars is not exactly a drop in the ocean, even for a wealthy man.”
“If the police couldn’t talk him into letting them have a look around his house, what chance do you think you’ll have?” Jill asked.
“Next to none, but I can at least rattle him.”
Jill laughed. “Right, because you’re the woman who asks the tough questions.”
Eve tapped her finger on the steering wheel. “I guess he just doesn’t want the truth to come out. If this goes to trial, as it’s likely to do, everyone will know he has double standards. His reputation will be ruined. The head of the preservation society caught eating ortolans, the birds he had promised to protect.” Would that be enough reason for Mitcham R. Bryson to cover up the fact he’d been blackmailed?
At least he’d been easy to find. The local resident lived in a massive house overlooking the bay. Eve parked her car and leaned forward to admire the house with its pretty turrets.
“It looks similar to Florence’s house,” Jill mused. “If you ever decide to expand, you could add some turret rooms to the inn.”
