“Hiya, Margot,” Bentley said, standing and pulling her into a tight embrace. “Glad to see you this fine Monday.”
“You’re in a good mood,” she said, taking a seat and refusing his offer to get her a beverage from the snack area.
“I will admit that I am.”
“Does this have anything to do with seeing Ben this weekend?” she asked, her eyes narrowed to take in his response.
“You know, it does.” He nodded and took a sip from his lemonade. “Now, grant me that I realize he’s got a lot of explaining to do, not to mention I know he’s not telling me everything, but it’s so good to see him. To spend time with him and not be worried that the FBI are going to show up and haul him off.”
Margot nodded. She could imagine he’d be happy for that, but she also had so many questions about Ben’s appearance and she wasn’t sure she could put them aside to see only the happy side of things.
“I know that look,” Bentley said with a slow smile. “You’ve got questions.”
“As do you,” she said, shrugging.
“Is this just about Ben popping back up, or does it have something to do with that young man who was murdered at the festival?” She looked at Bentley and his eyebrows rose. “It’s both? But… Wait a minute. You don’t think Ben was involved with the murder, do you? He’s working with—” Bentley leaned forward, his gaze traveling around the noisy pool area. “He’s working for the good guys,” he finished cryptically.
“I know that. I just…” She didn’t want to put her suspicions into words. There was no evidence that Jacqui’s suspicions about Lindsay had anything to do with Ben. It was just the fact that Jacqui had said something about thefts and then Ben had suddenly shown up. Margot could admit coincidences happened, but this seemed to be stretching it.
“Margot.” Bentley’s tone held a warning. “My son has nothing to do with murder. Yes, he’s got a checkered past—” Margot wanted to remind Bentley just how checkered, but she didn’t want to be cruel. “—but he’s on the straight and narrow now.”
Margot also wanted to remind Bentley that being on the straight and narrow for Ben meant that he was still doing what he was good at—theft—but under the guidance of the government. There could be a lot he was involved in without being truly involved. Even murder.
She hated that thought. She liked Ben and wanted to believe the best about him, especially his reason for being in the area, but she couldn’t ignore that he was here and that something terrible had happened.
“I know that, Bentley, I do.” She covered his veiny hand with hers. “I’m just thinking through a lot of things right now. They are holding Jacqui for this and I know that she had nothing to do with it.”
“The girl they caught with the knife in her hand?” Bentley said, looking dubious.
“I know it sounds so…cut and dry.” Margot’s gaze wandered to the few seniors in the water then back to Bentley. “It’s not. The man who was killed had lied about his affiliation with Jacqui to get the job, or at least that’s what the hiring manager said. It doesn’t add up. Jacqui said she didn’t even know who he was, and I believe her.”
“No witnesses? Security cameras? Anything?” he asked.
“Not that I know of. I haven’t asked Adam yet.”
Bentley nodded, taking another sip of his drink, the cup dripping condensation to the glass table top. “It is quite a coincidence,” he muttered, half to himself.
Margot felt the stab of guilt. She didn’t want Bentley second-guessing his confidence in his son’s innocence. She only wanted to understand if there was a link.
“Maybe I can talk to Ben,” she said, seeking out Bentley’s gaze.
“He probably won’t like that. He’s got to keep a low profile and all.”
“By attending the fall festival?” she asked, doubtful.
“Bring that up with him,” Bentley said, tossing his hand in the air to signal he had no idea what his son was up to. “Here.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a professional-looking business card.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“You can contact him that way. He’s going by the name Washington.”
“You’re kidding,” she said, giving him an incredulous look.
“Nope. I asked him why, and he said it wasn’t about the city but the poetry.”
“Washington Irving?”
“Must be. I stopped trying to figure it out and am just going with it.”
“Do you need this?” she asked, flicking the card his way.
“You keep it for now, all right? I have faith in my boy.” He met her gaze. “I know I haven’t known him long, and I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I did communicate with him before he was cleared. He’s my son,” he said, shrugging, “I couldn’t ignore him once I knew who he was.”
“I understand,” she said, knowing that by Bentley admitting he had talked with his son was tantamount to him admitting he’d withheld evidence from the FBI. Thankfully, that wouldn’t matter now, but she was surprised he’d told her anyway.
“He’s a good man, and he’s trying to right his wrongs. If Adam hadn’t— ”
Margot looked up when Bentley stopped mid-sentence. “If Adam hadn’t what?”
“I shouldn’t have said anything.” He looked guilty and Margot pressed.
“What do you mean? What did Adam do?”
Bentley gave her a painful look and she knew he wouldn’t answer. It likely had something to do with Adam’s past that he had never admitted to her. Something she desperately wanted to know about but had tried to come to peace with not knowing.
She was about to tell Bentley as much when her phone rang. “Speak of the devil…”
She gave Bentley an apologetic look and he waved her away. “Go on, I’ll talk to you later.”
She nodded and answered the phone. “Hey, Adam,” she said.
“Margot, I’m going to need you to come to my office.”
“All right,” she said, not liking the serious tone had had. “What is it?”
“There may be something to what Jacqui told you after all.”
7
“What’s going on?” she asked the minute she’d been ushered into Adam’s office and the door was closed.
Rather than take his chair on the other side of his desk, Adam slid into the chair next to Margot’s. His expression was serious, but she knew him well enough to tell that it was one of intense concentration. There was a puzzle to be untangled and he was trying to do just that.
“I’ve been mulling over what you said Jacqui told you—especially after she was arrested on charges of murder. It didn’t add up. Why would she come to you for help, fingering someone her father trusted, and then suddenly it turns out she’s murdered someone? It seems drastic and confusing.”
Margot nodded, knowing better than to add anything yet. He wasn’t done explaining his thinking.
“So then I thought, what if she were right? What if there have been robberies but we haven’t heard of them yet?”
“How is that possible?”
“I asked the same thing. But then I looked through recent reports, and there is one robbery that is still under investigation but Les had to put it to the side because he had no leads.”
“What is it?”
“Fake jewelry.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither did the victim at first. You see, it turns out Missus Ann Gardner, of Gardner Electric, reported a jeweler for exchanging her gems for fakes the last time she took her necklace in to be cleaned. Les looked into it but can’t find anything on the jeweler, who swears he only cleaned the necklace. He even had video footage to prove that the necklace was only in his possession for as long as it took to clean and then it was returned to the safe.”
“So the switch didn’t occur there.”
“Exactly.” Adam jumped to his feet and began pacing the office. “It appears there was no crime, but it’s obvious that t
his woman’s jewels were switched and she never even noticed it.”
“They could have been switched months ago.”
“Years even.”
“How did she notice now then? They must have been good fakes.”
“They were,” he said, nodding, “but diamonds don’t tend to shatter when they are dropped.”
“No,” Margot said, raising her hand to cover her mouth in surprise.
“Yes. She took them out for a fancy party she was attending, they slipped from her neck, and the largest stone shattered. That’s when she discovered it was not her necklace.”
Margot’s mind whirred through the possibilities. “So, this could mean that there are more people out there who are in possession of fake gems in ‘their’ prized jewelry.”
“That’s my working theory. We wondered how a thieving ring could be running under our noses and this is definitely one of those ways. But the ingenuity to pull something like this off is unprecedented. It would take—”
“A ring of thieves.”
“At least,” Adam agreed. “But, until we get more evidence—or, really, any evidence—we can’t do anything. There’s no leads to go off of.”
“There is one thing,” she said, a smile slipping onto her features.
“What’s that?”
“I know Ann Gardner, and I’m pretty sure she’ll talk to me.”
Margot looked up at the vast estate as she walked the paved pathway toward the front door. When she’d called Ann up out of the blue, the woman had insisted she come over for tea and hadn’t even bothered to ask for details. Margot knew that Ann’s husband was often gone on business working with a company in Asia and she had a feeling that Ann was aching for some company.
Straightening the hem of her blouse, Margot stepped up to the front door and rang the bell. A few moments later, Ann opened the door herself, wearing a long, light and flowing dress with a floral print bright enough to match her smile.
“Margot, it is so good to see you. Please, come in.”
Margot stepped into the cool interior, remembering the last time she’d been in the home for a consult on a luncheon she was going to make pastries for. The exotic wood flooring stretched out ahead of them like a pathway through the house that led straight to the back yard.
“I was thinking we could take our tea—iced, this time—by the pool. Would that be all right with you?”
“That sounds wonderful,” she said, and meant it. The sound of iced tea poolside would be a relaxing setting—maybe too relaxing for the news that Margot would need to bring up to the woman.
“I was so surprised to get your call,” the woman said, leading them down the hall, “but so happy too. Todd has been gone for the last few weeks and I’m going out of my mind with boredom.” She gave a light laugh and tossed her hand out to the side as if to enhance her humor. “I mean, there are only so many days a person can lay poolside before they have to do something.”
Must be nice, Margot thought. “I’m sure,” she said out loud.
“We’ll have the tea now,” Ann said, popping her head through a door that Margot knew led to a luxurious kitchen. “Let’s go.”
The elegant French doors opened onto a shaded balcony surrounded by exotic plants and ferns that covered the area in shadow and created a secluded oasis. Above the patio, misters sent out a refreshingly chilling mist that kept the area feeling cool and pleasant despite the day’s warmth.
“This is lovely,” Margot said, observing the patio furniture done in blues and whites along with rope accents and other nautical items.
“It’s my private oasis,” Ann said with a smile. “Please, have a seat.” She indicated a loveseat and two chairs on one end of the patio and Margot chose the chair.
Soon after they’d both sat, a maid came out carrying a silver tray with two chilled glasses, a pitcher of iced tea with lemons floating in it, and a plate of lemon bars.
“I’ll apologize now that these won’t taste anything like your wonderful confections,” she said when the woman had left, “but there is just something about lemon desserts in the summer—they are my favorite. Maria is a wonderful cook but doesn’t bake as often as I’d like, though as often as my waistline needs.”
Margot laughed. “I’m sure they are wonderful. Thank you for this. I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble.”
“Nonsense, it’s easy for an old friend like you!”
Margot offered a tightlipped smile. She wasn’t sure that they would be considered old friends, but she had a feeling the loneliness was talking. Either way, she did consider Ann a friend and was happy to spend this time with her.
“Now, Margot dear, why is it that you came to see me?” Ann’s sweet smile gave nothing away, but Margot hoped she wasn’t about to step out of line.
“I’ll start off by saying that you don’t have to answer me.”
“Oh my, this sounds ominous.” Ann’s smile turned sly and she took a sip of her iced tea through a glass straw. “Go on.”
“I wanted to talk to you about the missing jewelry.”
Now Ann’s eyebrows rose in surprise and she observed Margot over a bite of a lemon bar.
“I hope you don’t find it insensitive of me to ask, I just…” She turned her gaze to the azure pool just beyond the greens surrounding the pool.
“You’re hooked on another mystery,” Ann finished for her.
Margot shrugged sheepishly. “I am.”
“It’s all right,” Ann relented, setting her glass of tea down. “I had a feeling that might be why you came to visit—one can only talk about dessert so long. What would you like to know?” she asked matter-of-factly.
“I heard, through a reliable source,” Margot said with a wink, knowing that Ann would know it was Adam, “that you discovered that one of your necklaces is made of fake jewels.”
“Yes,” Ann agreed. “It was very tragic. “One moment, I was being admired by many ladies on the stunning nature of the necklace itself, then the next, I received the shock of my life when the clasp broke and the supposed diamond shattered. Humiliating.”
“I’m sure it was. I’m so sorry. Was it only this necklace or had others had their jewels replaced?”
“Replaced?” Ann looked surprised. “Is that what happened?”
“I’m not sure,” Margot was quick to reply, “but it’s a working theory. My theory, to be clear. Not the police’s.”
“Yes, yes, I understand.” Ann fingered the delicate gold necklace at her neck as if remembering the jewels that used to take up the same place. “As far as we can tell, it was only that one necklace, and I wouldn’t say they were replaced. I’m not even sure the setting was the same, though it was an excellent reproduction if it wasn’t. All the gems—diamonds, most of them—were fake. Every last one. It was a really good fake.”
“When you say good, do you mean good quality or good in the sense that you couldn’t tell that they were fake?”
“Both, actually. While the stones weren’t of the highest quality for fakes, they are still good quality. But also, from just looking at them with the naked eye, I couldn’t tell the difference.”
“And you say your jeweler found the discrepancy in the stones?”
“Yes. Mister Frazier was very upset about it. He’s been my jeweler for many years and when I brought him the necklace, after the incident, mind you, he told me they were all fake.”
“But you can trust him.”
“Implicitly.” Ann looked out across the pool. “It was a gift from my husband.”
“The necklace?” Margot asked, softening her voice.
“Yes.” Ann let out a deep sigh. “What are you looking for Margot? I mean, of course the answer to all of this, but is there some type of information I can give you that will help?”
Margot considered the woman’s question. A memory of Jacqui mentioning her thoughts about the waitstaff being involved came back to her.
“Did you host any parties before this?”
“Do you mean parties where I wore the necklace?”
“Yes.”
Ann’s eyes rose in concentration. “No, not that I can think of. My next party isn’t until the fall. Most of the parties I host in the summer are informal get-togethers. I find them to be much more enjoyable than stuffy, dress-up—” She stopped, her hand going up to cover her mouth. “Actually, I didn’t host a party, but I did attend one.”
Margot’s focus sharpened. “Really?”
“Yes. The Prestons hosted a back-yard soirée. It was fancy, I knew that from the invitation alone—embossed gold means dress up, you know.”
Margot offered a noncommittal smile. She didn’t know from experience, but she could imagine.
“Anyway, I knew that necklace would work perfectly with a new white dress I’d gotten a few months before. White is so lovely in the summertime,” she said, taking a sip of her iced tea. “Anyway, it was a fun party and we had an enjoyable time. Do you think that something happened at that party? I’d never think to check my gems after wearing them.”
“No,” Margot admitted, “I doubt it would be possible for anyone to have done anything at the party.” Except for maybe case them, she added to herself.
“Then what?”
“I’m not sure, but I promise you I will do everything I can to find out.”
“I know you will,” Ann said, leaning forward and briefly resting her hand on Margot’s. “I appreciate you looking into this, no matter what the reasoning. You’ll let me know what you find out?”
“I will,” she promised. The woman deserved to know that much. “Before I go, can you tell me anything else about the party? Did you meet anyone that seemed out of place? Did you interact with the waitstaff perhaps?”
“Oh no,” Ann said. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’m opposed to that. It’s just that they are so well trained that they tend stay out of the way. But let me think…” She looked up again. “There was a couple that comes to mind when I think of interesting people I met.”
Margot ignored the fact that this wasn’t exactly what she’d meant. Any information could be of use.
Catering and Crime Page 5
