Catastrophe in a Cloister

by Fiona Grace

  Finnbar frowned. “Why is it secret?”

  “Just part of the conditions,” Lacey said. “The head abbot asked me to keep it secret. Only Brother Benedict and myself, and a trusted scholar know what’s inside.” Then her chest dropped. “And a con man…” She looked at Brother Benedict. “I really think it was that treasure hunter from before. The one who pretended to be Professor Noble. He saw me open the safe. He knows what we have inside. Do you think it was him too?”

  Brother Benedict regarded her with consideration. His eyes registered interest but ultimately he seemed unwilling to cast the first stone. Lacey had a gut feeling but maybe Brother Benedict was right not to rush to judgment.

  Finnbar looked back and forth from Lacey to the monk and back again. “Is he…telepathic or something?”

  Gina groaned. “They’ve been doing this all day. Talking with their eyes.”

  “Sorry,” Lacey said, snapping back to the moment.

  “Why don’t we check the cameras?” Finnbar suggested. “The ones Frank installed? If someone was here, they’ll have been picked up on them.”

  Everyone paused. It was a very pragmatic suggestion.

  They all headed to the main shop floor to check the surveillance footage. Only once there, Lacey spotted the time. She was late for her lunch date with her family at the Lodge!

  “Oh no!” she cried, knowing just how seriously her mom took time keeping. “I have to go!”

  The others looked at her with surprise.

  “Now?” Gina asked.

  “Lunch. With my family, remember?”

  This was about the worst interruption Lacey could’ve wanted. Not only was she dreading the lunch because she knew her mom and sister had a lot to get off their chests about Frank, but she’d also missed her one opportunity to buy a second pregnancy test. Add to that the very real possibility a thief had been in her store, and it was a melting pot of stress for Lacey.

  “I’m going to have to trust you guys to check the footage,” Lacey said, swiping up her keys. “And to mind the store and Brother Benedict. Do you think between the three of you, you can do that? Or do I need to leave Chester in case?”

  “We can do it,” Gina said, testily.

  Though the events of the morning had left Lacey doubtful, she really had no other choice. Surely between the pensioner, the PhD student, the silent monk, and the arthritic dog they could keep her store safe?

  “Okay,” she relented. She hurried for the door, Chester coming along after her. When she reached it, she paused and looked back. “I almost forgot. I’m expecting a call from Professor Crispin Noble. If he calls, transfer him to me, please.”

  In all the drama, she’d forgotten just how excited she was to find out what Crispin Noble had discovered about the scepter.

  “We’ll transfer him straight to your cell,” Finnbar replied with a nod.

  “Thank you,” Lacey said. “And when you find something on the cameras, text it to me.”

  “If,” Gina interjected.

  “When,” Lacey replied. She was utterly convinced someone had tried to steal the scepter, and she was confident who the surveillance footage would show doing it. The treasure hunter.

  But for now she had to put all of that out of her mind, because there was a huge hurdle to overcome first…

  Lunch with her family!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Lacey pulled into the parking lot at the Lodge, her mind ticking over her myriad woes: Family arguments. Pregnancy worries. A possible thief. There was so much on her plate at the moment, she could feel herself becoming increasingly stressed and wound up. She really didn’t want to be on edge at her wedding.

  She killed her car’s engine and headed inside the inn with Chester, waving a hurried hello to Lucia, who was manning the reception desk. When she reached the dining room door, she took a moment, a deep breath to steady herself, then went inside.

  The dining room at the Lodge was very large, a beautiful old room with polished wooden floors that Lacey had unearthed during her interior design contract. The vast space was decorated with lots of vintage wooden tables and candelabras, and natural light poured in through the glass doors at the end. The view through it stretched out across the lawns, to the cliffs and to the ocean beyond. Even on a gray, drizzly winter’s day there was no denying it was a gorgeous view.

  Though the room appeared to be fully booked with diners, and bustling with noise and activity, the Lodge’s dining room was a lovely, tranquil place for lunch. Lacey thought it was a shame she was too on edge to actually enjoy it.

  She spotted her family over by the windows and was about to head in that direction when her attention was caught by a single diner sitting at one of the tables smaller tables near the swing-door entrance the servers used to go in and out of the kitchen. It was none other than the fake Crispin Noble, the so-called treasure hunter!

  Lacey’s temper immediately flared. Though she hadn’t yet received confirmation from Finnbar and Gina that the man was her culprit, instinct told her he was.

  She instantly changed direction and marched toward him, ready to give him a piece of her mind.

  As she got closer, she saw that the treasure hunter was leaning to the side and conversing with another diner on the next table over.

  “I found Jacobite gold at Loch Arkaig,” he was saying, bragging to the other diner, a smug look on his face. “Treasure lost since 1745! It’s going to earn me a fortune!”

  Lacey drew up to the table and folded her arms. She glared down at him. “You!” she cried. “You thief!”

  The diner on the table over cast a wary glance at Lacey, before leaning back from the treasure hunter and averting his eyes.

  The treasure hunter looked up at her and smiled. “We meet again. I don’t think I had a chance to introduce myself properly. My name is Greg Ford and—”

  “I don’t care who you are,” Lacey snapped, cutting him off. “I want to know what you’re still doing in Wilfordshire. I already told you the scepter’s not for sale. Are you hanging around so you can steal it?”

  “It’s a free country,” Greg replied simply. He gave her a smug look. “And I’ve no need to try and steal the scepter, since I have something you need. Knowledge. I’m hanging around because I know at some point you’ll change your mind and come crawling to me for help.”

  The arrogance! Lacey thought as her hands involuntarily clenched into fists. “I don’t need you. I have actual scholars working on the scepter. So why don’t you buzz off back to wherever you came from and leave me alone?”

  Greg Ford looked completely unaffected by her outburst. “No, I think I’ll stay here, at this fine inn. I’ve nowhere to be in a hurry, and it’s best I’m nearby when you change your mind and realize my terms are worth it. Wisdom for a small percentage of the fee is a very reasonable exchange.”

  “It’s not for sale!” Lacey cried. “I told you that already!”

  She was getting increasingly riled, and now people all over the dining room were starting to look. Great, another public spat. Just what she needed.

  Suddenly, Naomi was there beside her. “What’s going on?” she asked, looking confused.

  Greg the treasure hunter just smirked. “I was trying to have a quiet lunch when I was accosted by this woman.”

  Naomi tugged on Lacey’s arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Stay away from the scepter,” Lacey warned the treasure hunter one last time. “And stay away from my store.”

  As Naomi dragged her away, the man just smirked.

  They reached the table and Lacey sat heavily down in her dining chair. She couldn’t help but keep glancing angrily at the treasure hunter on the other side of the room.

  Meanwhile, Shirley, Frankie, and Naomi seemed unable to stop staring at her. Same for what seemed like every single diner in the restaurant. Lacey’s altercation with the treasure hunter had been seen by many, and she slunk down in her seat with embarrassment.

  “What was tha
t all about?” Shirley asked, looking perplexed.

  Lacey huffed. She was still fuming. “That awful man is trying to trick me. He pretended to be a scholar to get close to an antique I’m valuing at the moment. And now he’s hanging around town. I don’t trust him. I think he’s trying to steal it from me.”

  She checked her phone to see if Finnbar and Gina had found any surveillance footage. Still no message. Then she spotted the signal bar was empty. Typical the Lodge would be a cell phone black spot just when she needed it!

  “Ugh, hold on a minute,” she said, standing. “I just need to check something.”

  But before she could leave, Naomi thunked a hand down on top of hers, pinning her to the table and stopping her in her tracks.

  “Will you sit down!” she commanded. “You’ve come in here all guns a-blazing like a madwoman.”

  “Oh, have I?” Lacey shot back, thudding down into her seat.

  “What is going on with you?” Naomi asked.

  She looked astonished. In fact, they all did. Lacey was usually the calm one of the bunch; it was very rare for her to have public outbursts like this. And it wasn’t just the treasure hunter who was contributing to her stress, it was everything. Her pregnancy fears. Her parents’ altercation. It was all just too much.

  “Have some wine,” Shirley said. “You look like you need it.”

  Lacey thought of the possibility she might be pregnant. She shook her head. “No.

  “How about some bread, Aunty Lacey?” Frankie said, offering her the basket of rolls.

  It was a very sweet gesture.

  “Thank you,” Lacey said, picking one up and taking a big, furious bite. She recognized the taste right away as Tom’s bread roll recipe—light and delicate with a hint of sugar. The taste comforted her. Her anger started to fade.

  “Okay, I think I’ve calmed down now,” she said.

  “Good,” Shirley said. “That was all a bit embarrassing.”

  As fast as it had gone, Lacey’s anger came back in a sudden rush. “I’m embarrassing?” she exclaimed. “Me? You were the one standing in the middle of my high street screaming at your ex-husband!”

  “Well, what do you expect?” Shirley retorted. “I haven’t breathed the same air as him for over thirty years. And honestly, Lacey, I don’t think I ever want to again. I’ll be civil for your wedding but that’s it. I never want to be in the same room as him again. I think we should cancel the dinner tonight.”

  Lacey gritted her teeth. “The dinner is happening.”

  “Why?” Shirley demanded. “So your father can ignore my questions again?”

  “Well, that depends on how you ask them,” Lacey replied. “Are you planning on screaming them into his face, or do you think you can use an appropriate indoor voice?”

  “Indoor voice!” Frankie said with a giggle. “That’s what my old kindergarten teacher used to call it.”

  Shirley narrowed her eyes at Lacey. “I don’t appreciate that tone, young lady, nor you implying I’m acting like a child. That man called me silly.”

  “’That man,’” Lacey said, air-quoting her mother, “is my father. Whether you like it or not, you and he procreated, and made this happen!” She pointed at herself and Naomi, who was now burying her face in her hands again. “Which means traditionally speaking, he gets to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day. That’s just the way it works. Your dad walked you down the aisle, and now my dad is walking me down the aisle, and you don’t get to take that away from me.”

  Shirley huffed. “He can walk you anywhere you want, that’s no concern of mine. I just don’t want to have dinner with the man.”

  “The man,” Frankie echoed, with a giggle. “He sounds like the bad guy from a comic book.”

  “He is,” Shirley said. “That’s exactly what he is.”

  “Mom!” Naomi hissed, peeping out through her fingers. “Don’t turn Frankie against his grandad.”

  “Me?” Shirley exclaimed. “You’re the one who pretended he didn’t even have one!”

  Lacey felt her anger rising and rising through her. If this bickering went on much longer she’d blow.

  “Stop,” she said. “Please. Just stop. I really want to have a nice wedding. Is that too much to ask? And in order to have a nice wedding, I really need you guys to all meet up with each other first and let out a bit of this steam. The dinner is going ahead.”

  She stood, discarded the piece of bread she’d barely picked at on the table. Her frayed nerves could take no more. Enough was enough.

  “Where are you going?” Shirley asked, looking at her eldest daughter with a stunned expression.

  “I’m leaving,” Lacey replied. “Before I say something I regret. I hope you enjoy your lunch.”

  She quickly marched away before Shirley got a chance to say anything else. Lacey knew her limits, and knew when she was close to blowing. If she shouted at her mom, Shirley would hold a grudge for at least a week, and being given the silent treatment by her mother on her wedding day would be a disaster.

  Lacey made it out into the parking lot of the Lodge, the cold night air cooling her hot, angry cheeks. As soon as she made it down the steps and to the gravel lot, her phone pinged. She had signal again, and a message had come in.

  She checked her screen. The message was from Finnbar.

  You were right! Someone tried to get into the safe. But we couldn’t see their face. They were wearing a mask.

  A mask, eh? Lacey thought, glancing back at the Lodge, where Greg Ford was still sitting inside smugly enjoying his lunch. Sneaky.

  She quickly texted back, feeling vindicated that there was now irrefutable evidence to back up what she knew to be true. Good work. On my way. I’ll call the cops.

  Greg might have tried to hide his identity, but it would take more than a mask to fool Lacey.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Lacey arrived back at her store at the same time the cop cruiser pulled up.

  “Someone called about an attempted robbery?” the male officer said as he emerged out of the front seat onto the sidewalk.

  “That was me,” Lacey replied. “This way.”

  She led the male officer and his female partner inside the store. Finnbar and Gina were at the counter, eyes glued to the TV screen as they watched the surveillance footage on playback.

  “Oh, Lacey,” Finnbar said when he spotted her. “Here. Come and look.”

  Lacey went behind the counter, the officers following. They were like sardines packed in behind there, and they all craned their heads to look up at the screen.

  Finnbar hit play, and the screen filled with the image of the shop floor. There was Lacey, hurrying to the door with Chester in tow. She exited, and barely a minute later, Gina left the shop floor herself, heading to the back room.

  Lacey couldn’t help but narrow her eyes and glare at the woman. Sixty seconds was all it had taken for her to go against Lacey’s command to mind the store while she ran a quick errand. Couldn’t she have just waited for Finnbar to arrive?

  But there was no chance to give her a piece of her mind, because almost as soon as Gina was out of sight, a figure crept in through the door. He’d clearly been lying in wait, watching, spying, and waiting for his moment. He was wearing a mask, and his features were entirely obscured.

  Lacey shuddered. The footage was very chilling.

  She watched as Boudica raised her head. The figure threw something to her. A dog treat? That’s all it had taken to get Boo not to raise the alarm?

  “He’s familiar with the store,” Lacey commented. “If he knows we have guard dogs.”

  That was one check mark in the Greg Ford box. The other was the fact the figure was clearly male—his height and movements gave him away. The other tell-tale clue was the fact he beelined straight for the back room where the safe was.

  Finnbar clicked a button to change the view, tracking the treasure hunter as he went into the storeroom and over to the safe. He produced a crow bar, laying it on
top of the safe as he crouched down and started fiddling with the lock.

  “That bastard!” Lacey cried, bringing her hands into fists. “I knew it!”

  The male cop looked at her. “You recognize this person?” he asked, sounding skeptical that someone in a mask could be identified.

  “Yes,” Lacey said. “It’s Greg Ford.”

  Gina and Finnbar exchanged a glance.

  “Who’s Greg Ford?” Finnbar asked.

  “The treasure hunter,” Lacey replied. “I’m sure it’s him. He came in here this morning impersonating a scholar, and he saw where my safe was. He probably only came to get the lay of the land in the first place. I was the one who asked him if he was Crispin Noble, and he must’ve just gone along with it to get a closer look at the scepter. Maybe even to spy over my shoulder to get the combination for the lock.”

  She felt furious and foolish that the man had hoodwinked her so thoroughly.

  She looked at the cops. “He has a room at the Lodge. You should arrest him.”

  The male cop frowned. His female partner raised an eyebrow.

  “We don’t arrest people without evidence,” she said, condescendingly.

  Lacey gestured to the surveillance screen, where Greg Ford had abandoned his attempts to crack the combination and was now attempting to prize open the door with his crowbar. “What’s that, if not evidence?”

  “Well,” the male cop began, “what we have here is a figure walking into an open and unmanned store. So no break-in. He then leaves with nothing. So no robbery. The most criminal thing that’s happened here is an attempt to damage property.”

  Lacey narrowed her eyes. “Are you actually kidding right now? I know exactly who that is and exactly what he’s doing and you’re going to let him go scot-free?”

  The cop shook his head. “No. We’ll investigate. But we can’t just take your word at it and arrest a man because you think you recognize him. That could be anyone. Could even be a woman. A chancer who came off the street when they noticed the store was empty.”

  Lacey was furious. “A chancer doesn’t walk in off the street with a crowbar and mask, head straight for the safe, and leave behind everything else of value!”