Memory flashed a close-up. The tenuous shadow she had seen in the hall, the man with the turned-down hat brim? Could be. He wouldn’t leave them here indefinitely. He would come back. Should she hide them or —
“Cin — dy!” Sarah Ann Parker’s voice, Sarah Ann Parker opening the door at the foot of the stairs.
“Cindy, why don’t you come down? Want I should come up and help you find things?”
“No, no, Sary.” She scrambled the jewels back into the bag. “I’m coming. I’m just closing the — the trunk.” She had almost said chest, which might reveal later where she had found the bag.
“Did you find what you wanted, Cindy?”
“I did. Everything. I’m bringing the things down to my room. Wait till you see me tonight — I’ll knock your eyes out. Run along and serve lunch. I’m starving.”
“Want to know somethin’, Cinderella Clinton? You’re always starving. I don’t know how you keep thin as a willer wand. You come along now, quick.”
Cindy twisted the twine round the neck of the bag and considered. Should she leave it here and set a trap for the person who had hidden it or take it to her room and hide it? Better take it and make sure it wasn’t retrieved by the thief.
She closed the chest and with the bag gripped in her left hand stood up. Oooch, her knees were stiff. What had rolled across the floor and under the spool bed? Her heart stopped, thundered on. One of the jewels from her lap?
Can’t stop to hunt for it. If I stay here longer Sary will be on my trail. How shall I get this hefty thing down? I might meet her in the hall. My wardrobe case. I’ll tuck the jewels under Pocahontas.
She opened the blue leather case marked C.C.S. and filled it. She looked back before she left the turret room in the hope of seeing the glitter of the missing jewel. With the sustaining thought that if it wasn't visible to her no one else would see it she went down the stairs with the blue wardrobe case bumping against every step.
Now what, she asked herself when she reached her room. I’ll leave this just as it is until after lunch. No one can possibly get in while Sary and I are downstairs.
Some one had come in, she discovered as she opened the door to the patio. Bill Damon laughed as he rose. Had Sary expected him? There was an extra place set.
“I dropped in to return the enlarged snapshot I borrowed. I’ve been on and off long distance to Washington the entire morning,” he explained. “Miss Parker invited me to stay for lobster salad — plus apple pie. I might have resisted the first, but not the last. I don’t like your attitude of incredulous surprise, Miss Clinton. You make me feel like an intruder.”
“Intruder. I would rather see you at this moment than any other person in the world.” The fervor of her declaration startled her and sent a dark wave of color under his bronze.
“That’s a greeting one doesn’t get every day.” He cleared his husky voice. “I’d like an explanation of it after lunch. I can’t believe I owe it to my fatal charm.”
“You’ll get the explanation if I can wait that long.”
“Sit here.” He drew out her chair. “Stop shivering. What an excitable child you are.”
“Are you referring to the dynamics of my emotional conflicts? I cribbed that from a psychiatrist’s report.” Her light voice was a triumph of will over seething excitement.
“I am glad to hear the laughter in your voice. You frightened me for a moment.”
“How did you come out at contract with the fascinating Sally Drew last evening?” she asked in the hope of quieting her tingling nerves by switching her thoughts from the jewels. “Did she call you ‘sugar’?”
“No. I heard her call you sugar. You said that Harding used that endearing word instead of your name several times. I wonder if he picked it up from her?”
“No, because that morning in the patio he declared he never had met the woman, didn’t want to, objected when I said I planned to call on her. Tell me about the game.”
“She was absorbed in her hand. Every few minutes her lips would move as if she were repeating rules recently learned. I hadn’t supposed that an intelligent woman — and something tells me she is intelligent — could be so dumb.”
“I heard you tell her you weren’t good. I don’t believe that.”
“Goodness, like happiness, is a relative term, Cinderella. I was trying to give the lady courage, also to help my host and hostess. They are experts. Ally planned that we were to play with them. If Mrs. Drew were as new at the game as she claimed, no card sense, she said — I thought that the Armstrongs’ evening would be ruined if one of them drew her as a partner. Miss Parker approaches with rolls that look light enough to have snowed down.”
It seemed to Cindy that aeons passed before Sarah Ann Parker, who talked volubly while she served luncheon, mainly about the casualties of her favorite ball team, closed the patio door behind her.
“What’s on your mind, Cindy? You’ve been so tense I was afraid Miss Parker would begin to cross-examine you.”
“Can what I say be overheard here?” She looked behind her at the house, then across the putting green to the vast expanse of ocean.
“Let’s go to the seat on the point. No one can overhear there.”
“No. No, I don’t dare be so far away for fear —”
“Suppose we talk in your workroom? With the door closed —”
“No, I couldn’t see the front stairs. Don’t look at me as if you suspected I am losing my mind. Wait till you hear —”
“Take it easy, darling.”
“Don’t call me darling as if you thought me an invalid or an incompetent.”
“That wasn’t the idea back of the word but we’ll take up that also some other time. I’ll sit at the table, smoke and keep my eyes on the house. You face me and watch that no one approaches from the garage or putting green. Let’s go.”
To the accompaniment of the hum of bees dipping into the hearts of the colorful blossoms in the flower borders and the tinkle of the fountain spray dropping back into the pool, she told of her reason for the trip to the turret room, started to tell of taking out the Pocahontas costume, stopped abruptly.
“Why the period?”
“I almost told what I plan to wear to the masquerade tonight. It would have spoiled the fun. I’m sure no one will recognize me till we unmask.”
“Want to bet on that?”
“I would be willing to. Let’s go back to my STORY in capital letters.”
She talked in a low voice without interruption from him. When she finished she clasped her hands tightly on the table and leaned forward.
“What shall I do?” she whispered.
“You left the bag of jewels in your room?”
“Yes.”
He paced back and forth across the patio, smoking, thinking. He stopped beside her chair. She rose and laid her hand on his arm.
“What shall I do?” she repeated.
“Put the bag back where you found it.”
“Put it back? Suppose — suppose the person from whom it was stolen — it must have been stolen, there’s no other explanation — were to trace it to the turret room? I would be accused of stealing it.”
“I’ll look out for that. Go up now, quickly, and put the salt bag — if it is a salt bag — of jewels exactly where you found it and replace every article as it was when you opened the chest.”
“If I do that I won’t have anything to wear at the masquerade. What difference does that make? I shan’t go. I won’t leave the house until the mystery of that bag has been solved.”
“You must go. You may give away the whole shootin’- match if you don’t. You can think up something. There must be other clothes in the turret room you can wear. Repack the chest as it was, that’s vital. Step on it, Cindy. While you are upstairs I’ll engage Miss Parker in a baseball argument that will keep her occupied, I promise.”
“I don’t understand why you want the jewels hidden again. I haven’t had much experience in crime, but I think we
should turn them over to the police.”
“Then eight chances out of ten we’d never find out who put them in that chest.”
“Do you think we will now?” She came close to whisper.
“I'm sure we will.” He bent his head and lightly kissed her parted lips. Straightened quickly.
“You shouldn’t tempt me, Miss Clinton. Hustle. Get the jewels back where you found them before anyone comes. Trust me, will you?”
“Trust you? Didn’t I tell you I’d rather see you than anyone else in the world? That’s my exit line. I’m going.”
“I’m sure we will,” Cindy repeated his words as she ran up the turret stairs. I have a feeling that Bill Damon suspects who hid them. How could he? He doesn’t know anyone in this place. He appeared cool as a glacier, but — she brushed her right hand across her lips — I’ll bet underneath he was so excited he didn’t realize he kissed me.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
HE WAITED till Cindy had had time to reach the turret room, then entered the kitchen. Sarah Ann Parker was at the open icebox.
“That Colonel Damon is an awful nice person, Cindy. Kind of exciting like a movie actor,” she said without turning. “He has Hal Harding licked to a finish. I wish he was Ken Stewart.”
“He is, Sary.”
She whirled at the low assurance. The plate she held fell with a crash. She adjusted her spectacles hanging by the band and peered at him through the thick lenses.
“If that’s the truth what’s the idea comin’ here under a false name?” she demanded caustically. “Surprised you didn’t wear a fake beard.”
He gave her a tabloid version of his explanation to Alida Barclay. As she listened she became intent on collecting the casualty at her feet.
“You wrote that letter to me, didn’t you, Sarah Ann Parker, alias P.A.S.?” he accused.
She deposited the pieces of broken plate and its contents in the sink, pulled out a chair at a white enamel table which held a basket overflowing with green peas, and sank into it with a sigh.
“You’ve kinder taken the stiffenin’ out of my knees. I did write that letter. I sneaked the address from the envelope of one to you Cindy left to be mailed. Want to know somethin’, I’d do it again if I thought it would help keep her safe from that Hal Harding. This is the second summer he’s been courtin’ her. Besides havin’ two wives already he’s supportin’, folks think he’s sidin’ with those men bein’ tried for treason. I laid awake lots of nights before I sent it wonderin’ if I was takin’ a chance at upsetting her life by doing it.”
“It’s a ticklish business to play Fate, Sary.”
“That’s what I kept tellin’ myself, I’d think, suppose Kenniston Stewart came back because I sent that letter; suppose he turned out to be a no-gooder who would pester her by remindin’ her she was married to him. I was scared for fear I’d be like the woman Cindy told me ’bout one time, Pan someone, who opened a box she found on the seashore and let a whole flock of troubles out on the world. I sweat blood over that letter before I posted it. You’ve been playin’ possum so long how come you’re out with the truth now?”
“Out with it only to you. I need your help.”
“Not consid’rin’ moving in here, are you? Haven’t forgotten that that marriage don’t exist any more, have you?”
“No. No. Sit down again. Where did you pick up that crazy idea? I need someone in this house whom I can trust.”
“What’s goin’ on in this house?” Her eyes were startled, her voice was shrill.
“Ssh-sh. Not so loud. Can you keep a secret?”
“I’m not Ella Crane who blabs everything she knows and a lot she doesn’t. You’d be surprised if you knew the suspicions she’s started about you an’ why you’re here.”
“What has she said?”
“Now I’ve heard your story, what she’s been broadcasting’s nothing like the truth. I think Lyd Fane’s been connivin’ with her. She said when you were in her shop you spoke of a Sally an’ she’s kinder tying you up with the blonde who’s leased Rockledge at Pirate’s Cove.”
“Now I’ve heard everything. I met the woman for the first time at the Armstrong dinner last evening.”
“Ella don’t need facts to go on. She’s got imagination. Lots of folks like that. Want to know somethin’? I suspected who you were the day you phoned an’ said Bill Damon wanted to speak to Mrs. Stewart. Can’t say I’d been so smart if I hadn’t written that letter. The mornin’ you came to take Cindy to Trader Armstrong’s office I was sure — then I was all at sea again when you let that annulment go through. Didn’t seem as if a man after seeing Cindy would let her go. I’m sorry, I guess the way your jaw set I’ve blundered past a ‘Keep Off’ sign.”
“Let’s get back to open road. You’re not such a gay deceiver as you think, I’ve had my suspicions that you knew who I am.”
“Aren’t you goin’ to tell Cindy?”
“I had planned to tell her last evening, but the right moment didn’t come. She’s bound to resent the deception at first. I’ll make an opportunity after we unmask tonight. You won’t betray me?”
“Not me. I interfered in her life and yours for the last time when I wrote that letter.”
“Your promise takes a weight from my mind. We must talk and talk fast. Watch the garden and garage and I’ll keep my eyes on the hall door. I don’t want Cindy to hear.”
“Terrible in love with her, aren’t you?”
He ignored the emotional unsteadiness of her voice.
“That road is posted ‘No thoroughfare’ too.”
“You’re right. I don’t mean to be nosy, but I’ve been so scared she’d take up with that Hal Harding. She never let on but I could see she was dreadful hurt that Kenniston Stewart wasn’t interested enough in the girl he’d married to at least come and take a look at her, an’ when a girl’s pride is hurt there’s no accountin’ for what silly thing she’ll do. Hal has had most every woman in town in love with him off an’ on. I don’t mean anything sinful, but they kinder lost their heads ’bout him. I’ll admit that when he smiles at me an’ says, ‘How are you, Sary Ann Parker, how’s the light of my life today?’ I know perfectly well it’s just his foolin’, but I feel a kinder glow.”
“Thanks for the tip, Sary.” He laughed. “Now I know how to win friends and make love to a woman. Listen carefully, Cindy’s safety and yours are threatened.”
“Sakes alive, your voice gives me the merry-pranks up an’ down my spine. What’s threatenin’ us?”
He told of the jewels Cindy had found in the chest in which her fancy dress costumes were stored. Sarah Ann Parker listened breathlessly. When he finished her eyes bulged with unbelief, her cheeks burned red as her cotton dress.
“I went through each trunk and chest in the turret room this spring when I opened The Castle. That bag wasn’t there then. How could a person get in an’ hide somethin’ in this house without me knowin’ it?”
“You don’t spend every moment of your life here, do you?”
“’Course not, but I lock up tight as a drum when I go out.”
He remembered the patio door which had opened so easily into the kitchen the day he had brought Cindy home, started to refer to it, abandoned the reminder as not being germane to the subject under discussion.
“Do many strangers come to the house?”
“My sakes alive, there are always folks drivin’ up an’ askin’ to see the secret staircase —”
“I’ve heard of the secret staircase. Where is it?”
“The cupboard side of the fireplace in the old kitchen swings out an’ there’s a long flight of steps.”
“Where do they lead?”
“To the turret room. Story is that when smugglers owned this place they hid up there. There was no other way to get there then. The first Clinton who owned the place had the present stairs built.”
“Do many people know about the secret staircase? That’s a senseless question. Ella Crane told me about it.”
“An’ what Ella Crane knows, the whole world knows. That maid, Rena Foster, who works for Mrs. Sally Drew, come over to see it soon after the family moved in, said she’d heard of it all her life — she’s a village girl — I let her go up the secret stairs, her eyes were big as saucers —” Sarah Ann Parker’s face paled. She gasped.
“You saw her, she’s the one who sneaked into this kitchen askin’ for eggs, the day Cindy fell asleep. She’s always runnin’ across for recipes or crochet patterns. You don’t suppose —”
“We won’t suppose anything, we must plan, before Cindy comes.”
“She won’t be along yet. You told her to repack the chest as she found it. That will take time. Aren’t you goin’ to tell her what you’re plannin’ to do?”
“Later. You’re breathless. Don’t be frightened, Sary.”
“Frightened? Me? I’m not frightened, I’m tickled pink. It’s exciting. Always wished I could go to Hollywood an’ act in one of those mystery movies, think I’d be good. Now I’ve got a chance at the real thing. A bag of jewels hidden in the turret. Can you beat that for a whodunit? What do we do next?”
“Listen carefully. If anyone comes to the patio begin to shell those peas.”
With his eyes on the door which opened on the hall he told of a tentative plan which would afford present protection against the person or persons who were responsible for hiding the jewels. Sarah Ann Parker’s nods of understanding, her muted “Yes” — “Yes” — “Yes” — in answer to his questions accompanied his low voice.
“You can see, can’t you, Sary, that if the bag is removed from the chest the news is bound to leak and there wouldn’t be five chances in ten that the person who hid it there would be caught.”
“Sure, I see.” She drew a long breath. “That eases the strain. I’ve been tense as a fiddlestring while I listened to what sounds more like a mellerdrama than anything that could happen in this village. Course the bag should be left where ’twas hid. I guess between us we’re smart enough to catch the fella.”
To Love and to Honour Page 14
