by Beth Byers
There, in the corner of the toolbox, wrapped in a white bar towel, was a little bundle.
Desmond looked at her as she hesitated. “Go on. Open it,” he urged, and Edwina carefully pulled out the wad of material. Setting it in her left hand, she used her right to start peeling back the fabric.
Something heavy and hard shifted in her hand as she pulled away the last layer.
The Torch.
It was glorious. The size of a quail’s egg, the perfect canary diamond shimmered with a golden inner fire that seemed to pick up every bit of light from the air around it. Edwina didn’t realize that she’d gasped involuntarily as soon as she saw the stone. It was stunning, and she could easily imagine it on a royal tiara or as a pendant on the neck of one of the world’s wealthiest women.
Officer Desmond gave a low whistle of appreciation. “Holy cow! Now I see what all the fuss is about!” He put out his hand slowly, palm up. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep this as evidence, miss,” he said, his voice almost sorrowful. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure it gets to the rightful owner after all this mess gets sorted out.”
“I’m sure you will,” Edwina said, then gave him a tremulous smile. “But can’t I just hold it for a few more minutes?”
Desmond laughed. “Sure. After all you’ve been through and what you did to solve this case, you deserve it.”
To say Mr. Tenamen was displeased that the specifics about crimes in the hotel would be reported in the morning papers was a vast understatement. The fact that the Torch was recovered from Benny’s toolbox was nice, but it wouldn’t repair the Exeter’s reputation.
Sitting with Tenamen and Mrs. Maddenstone in the entryway to the restaurant, Edwina gave a great sigh. “Well, that didn’t turn out like we expected, did it?”
Mrs. Maddenstone glared daggers at Mr. Tenamen. “No, it didn’t. Why didn’t you tell me you’d hired a private investigator, or that there was a theft like that in the hotel? I’ve been an employee here for twenty-two years and I deserve to know what’s going on! And why in the world didn’t you tell me this girl was Edwina Winterwood?”
Tenamen pulled out a cigar and a cutter. “Didn’t know myself,” he admitted, “but I am sorry about the rest of it. I probably should’ve told you, Mrs. Maddenstone. I truly apologize.” He looked at Edwina. “What did your father say when you told him?”
Edwina gave a soft laugh and looked down at her hands. “You’re not going to believe this, but he said maybe owning a hotel that’s got its reputation dinged a bit might be a really good investment. I’m sure I’ll get an earful when he gets here, but I also wouldn’t be surprised if he winds up talking to the current owners and seeing if he can buy the Exeter for a rock bottom price.” She shrugged. “It’s what he does. Buy things.”
Mrs. Maddenstone’s eyes widened. “You mean I might be working for your father, which means I’d be working for you?” She sat back in her chair, stunned. “Well, doesn’t that beat all. Maybe I’ll finally get a raise.”
Chapter 8
“And that’s how it all happened,” Edwina Grace Winterwood said with a happy sigh. “And I got to be part of the whole thing.” She stretched out on the brocade-covered sofa, reveling in the fact that she was home in the plush game room downstairs, and that her short career as an undercover hotel maid had come to a sudden end.
Preston’s mouth hung open, the gin and tonic front of him on the card table forgotten. “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re damn lucky you didn’t get shot, Eddie, and you know it! Admit it. What were you thinking, telling the manager to call a detective you knew wouldn’t even be at work for the next half an hour. You thought Hastings killed Spinosa, and since most of the staff had already left, you didn’t think enough about your own safety enough. I’m right, aren’t it?”
Edwina’s best friend, Agnes Scapelli, normally so bubbly and flirtatious, was apparently in complete agreement. “Absolutely! And what all that danger and running around for?” She smacked a hand on the table, making Preston’s glass jump a bit. “Sure, you caught a killer, but did you even get to keep the big diamond?”
Laughing, Edwina kicked off her high-heeled shoes. “Of course I didn’t get to keep the diamond! The Torch never belonged to me, or to Benny, or to Hastings. It belonged to Spinosa, and when he died it became part of his estate. I’d imagine it will go back to his family.” She paused, considering. “Maybe they’ll give it to his fiancée. From what I hear, it was going to be his wedding gift to her.”
Unconvinced, Preston shook his head. “I don’t care about the damn diamond, Eddie. I care about you. This whole private investigator idea is completely screwball, if you ask me. I know you’ve got a bent for adventure and maybe a bit of danger, but why can’t you just stick to racecars and speakeasys? I heard about how upset your folks were when they found out what you’d been doing in your spare time. Please tell me you’re going to close your detective agency.” His voice was near-pleading, and Amanda gave a little sigh.
“My parents would love that, and you’re right. It is a bit dangerous.” Slowly, her bee-stung lips stretched into a happy smile. “The problem is, my friend, that I think I’m hooked. Here I am, a pampered female who most folks just consider to be something to look at or marry off, and it turns out I can be so much more! I can help people, Preston!” She sat up, her eyebrows pulled together in determination. “I can change people’s lives for the better, and I can do it by using my God-given talents. My brain. My reasoning skills.”
The friends sat in silence for a moment, considering, until finally Agnes took a sip of her drink and looked at Edwina. “Just do me one favor, kid, okay?”
“What favor?” Edwina asked, and her friend smiled.
“Next time, be sure to put a gun in your handbag.”
The END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR – Carolyn L. Dean
Thank you for reading the second story in the new Jazz and Gin cozy mystery series! I had a wonderful time writing it, and Edwina Grace Winterwood is quickly becoming one of my favorite characters to write about. Her life and the time she lived in are fascinating, when so much of the world was changing, and women were at the forefront of that.
A bit about me: I’m a USA Today Bestselling author, and I've been writing and making stories in my head as early as I can remember. In third grade, I came home, set my lunchbox down, and told my mother I wanted to be a writer. Luckily, Mom was supportive.
I've been a published author for a few years now, under different names and genres, and I love telling stories about small town loves and mysteries and holidays and people! To be honest, I am always a bit scared to dump those ideas onto the written page, but hope you'll enjoy getting to meet the people who inhabit my imagination.
In real life, I'm married with kids, live on the West Coast of the US, and own a hobby farm just outside of my favorite small town. I’m a full-time author. I love to travel and can often be found strolling down a windy beach, holding onto the string of a high-sailing dragon kite.
www.carolyndeanbooks.com
Author’s Note
The next two short stories are the introduction to a new series by Bettie Jane and Beth Byers which will be released in August.
Honeymoon Madness
A Ro Lavender Adventure
Bettie Jane
Chapter 1
Two weeks of honeymooning on her yacht with her new husband, Leonard Ripley, was everything Ro could have expected, at least it was if she didn’t think for too long about their utter lack of physical contact during the last two weeks. Their wedding night began promising with a romantic first dance and vows of a lifetime of happiness, but once they set out towards their destination in the Mediterranean, her very high hopes crashed to rubble under her feet.
Leonard, upon boarding, insisted they retire to different cabins.
“My apologies, darling. I need to rest, only for a brief time. All the dancing, mixed with bourbon, I’m afraid has gotten the best of me.”
&nb
sp; He’d kissed her on the lips, a kiss that was void of passion and heavy on the smell of booze, laced with the promise that he’d join her in their honeymoon suite as soon as he’d recovered. Despite her disappointment, she offered him the benefit of the doubt given that their courtship, however brief, was full of romance and promise.
“Hurry and recuperate, darling. I’ll be waiting.” She watched him move away from her down the narrow hall to the back end of the yacht and tried to ignore the worry that was settling into her belly. She walked down the narrow hall, still clad in all white, tiny flowers braided into her nearly black hair, toward the servant’s quarters.
She tapped lightly on the cabin door where her lady-in-waiting, Elizabeth, would be in residence for the duration of their honeymoon. She was a young girl, younger than Ro, who was barely nineteen, and although there was a strict class difference, Ro felt a kinship with her and thought of Elizabeth as more of friend than a member of the staff.
Elizabeth’s brown eyes were large in her pale face when she opened the door, but her smile was friendly and genuine.
“Ms. Lavender. Oh, goodness. I’m sorry. Mrs. Ripley, I suppose it’s now. Did you ring for me?”
“I felt like taking a walk. Mr. Ripley is feeling under the weather. Would you be a dear friend and help me get out of this dress?”
Elizabeth’s face fell and her eyes held a bit of pity. “Oh, Ms.—Mrs. Ripley, of course I’ll help you. Would you like to go back to your stateroom?”
“Oh, no, that’s not necessary. In your room is just fine.”
Ro sat in front of a mirror and watched her reflection as Elizabeth carefully removed each flower and then combed out her thick locks.
“You must be so disappointed,” Elizabeth said as she combed.
“What do you mean?”
“Only that every girl dreams of her wedding night. This can’t be how you imagined it would go.”
Ro laughed with a shrug of her shoulders. “That’s true, but we have a lifetime together. One night won’t make or break us, I’m certain. Maybe that’s the best part of being married. Knowing that we have an entire lifetime to get it right. Childhood fantasies rarely survive adolescence.”
A familiar gnawing in her belly returned but she ignored it.
“Happily-ever-after seemed to survive your adolescence.” She ducked her head. “No offense meant.”
She set the comb on the vanity and began gathering the pins from Ro’s hair. Ro noticed a blush on her cheeks.
Ro spent a moment looking at the reflection of her gorgeous lace-covered wedding dress and smiled warmly.
“No offense taken, Elizabeth. In fact, it’s a wonderful reminder. You are quite right. Some fairy tales do come true.” She stood and kissed Elizabeth on the cheek. “Thank you for helping me with my hair.”
She returned to her room once she’d finished talking to Elizabeth. Leonard would sleep off his bourbon and in a few hours, they’d pick up where the wedding reception left off and she could get going on the rest of her own personal fairytale.
Chapter 2
Two weeks passed and they’d spent beautiful days and nights on the Mediterranean, swimming in the bright blue sea and sunning under the clearest skies. Leonard was wonderful company in the light of day, whether they lunched on the shore, shopped in quaint boutiques, or napped on the deck of the yacht.
If every day was near to perfect, every night was Ro’s own personal nightmare. After dinner each night, Leonard would excuse himself to his suites and she wouldn’t see him again until morning. The very first morning, Ro had pretended everything was fine. Hoped, rather, that everything was fine.
By the third day, she couldn’t hide her irritation or her growing desperation. She’d asked him directly when he planned on sharing her bed. Rather than answer her directly, he’d replied with accusation.
“Don’t be so demanding, Mrs. Ripley.” He laughed as though he’d just made the most amusing joke. “Affection is earned, my darling. We’ll consummate this marriage in due time. What’s the rush?”
“Leonard, I don’t understand. You seem so happy during the day. Why don’t you—”
“Give it a rest, Ro.”
The hardness in his eyes and the abrupt change in his tone startled her into silence.
She’d hidden her reactions during the day, hoping to see a change in the evening, but that night and each night since, she went to bed alone and cried herself to sleep.
When the end of the first week drew to a close, Ro’s spirits were deflated, and Elizabeth began waiting for her in what she now considered her rooms, not the master suite. Leonard hadn’t so much as crossed the threshold of what was supposed to be the marriage bed.
“Elizabeth,” Ro said once she was ready for bed, “will you stay here until I fall asleep. Please? I simply cannot bear falling asleep alone again.”
“Of course, Mrs. Ripley.”
One week in and she didn’t feel like anything at all resembling the Mrs. in her new name. How had things gone so badly? Why wouldn’t Leonard touch her, save during the day when there were other people around? She’d delighted at first in the public displays of affection, enjoying the modern daringness of it, but for him to keep away when they were alone was confusing. Conversation hadn’t worked. Pretending everything was normal wasn’t working either. She drifted off to sleep under the tender care of Elizabeth instead of her new husband and slept a restless sleep plagued with dreams of her being widowed.
She dreamed more than a dozen versions of the same fate. In the first, he’d fallen off the boat, drunk, and drowned. In another, the yacht sank and Leonard with it. In a third, she’d killed him herself after one too many rejections in the bedroom. In another, he’d run off with another woman and divorced her. On and on the dreams went, all night, each one ending in the death of either him, her, both, or just their marriage.
When she woke the next morning truly scarred from her nocturnal terrors and the feelings from her nightmares still fresh in her mind, Ro made a decision. No more polite conversations, no more waiting and hoping that Leonard would suddenly behave like she thought a husband should. No, today she was done being gentle, meek, indirect, and essentially helpless. Enough was quite enough.
“Elizabeth, I’ve come up with the most wonderful idea.” Ro ran through her idea while Elizabeth combed and pinned her hair. “I need to get his attention. Maybe he’s nervous about consummating our marriage. That would be a perfectly normal thing to feel, don't you suppose? I’ve been behaving as though there is something wrong with me and that if only I was more attractive or more what he sought in a new wife, he would want me. What if he does want me, but the poor dear is terrified of the actual act?” It was bold to speak it aloud, but Elizabeth didn’t seem to the least bit shocked.
“I suppose that it’s possible, Mrs. Ripley.”
“Oh, that’s another thing. Please don’t call me Mrs. Ripley anymore. No, we are friends, even though you work for me. Call me Ro.”
Elizabeth stammered in reply. “Oh dear. I don’t think that would be at all proper.”
“Isn’t it proper for you to do as I ask?”
“Yes, of course, but—”
“But nothing. You’ll call me Ro. Now, back to my plan.” She was giddy with the newfound power of the idea. “I’ll seduce him every day until he is so captivated by me that he won’t even have a chance to be nervous. Then on the last night, I’ll surprise him with an exquisitely romantic candlelight dinner on the deck of the yacht. We’ll watch the sunset together and then when the moon is hanging in the sun’s place, we’ll stargaze, drink wine by candlelight and he can finally overcome whatever is bothering him. Come to think of it, maybe this is exactly why people take lengthy honeymoon trips. Perhaps it is completely normal for it to take time to warm up to each other.”
“That’s a fair reason to me, Mrs. R—Ro. Very sound.”
Chapter 3
Ro took a moment to peek in the mirror one last time before she wen
t to join Leonard on the deck. Her plan seemed to be working well. Over the last several days, Leonard responded to her advances and her flirtatious ways with an eagerness that helped assuage her fears from the first week.
Her eyes sparkled as she thought of all the swimming and sunbathing they’d done. He seemed to be growing more comfortable with her all the time and although he still hadn’t spent a night in her bed, his touches were becoming more familiar and he lingered whenever they touched or embraced where he hadn’t previously. Her stomach roiled with nervousness, much like it had on her wedding day just two weeks before. Tonight would be the night she’d finally become Mrs. Ripley in every way.
The white lace sundress she wore complimented her now-bronzed skin. Two weeks of the Mediterranean sun was a welcome change to her normally pale English skin and she looked and felt as beautiful as she ever had. She felt confident in her appearance. There was simply no way he wouldn’t respond to her low-cut dress, especially once he realized she’d opted to wear nothing underneath the dress with a determination that bordered on recklessness. The time had come for Ro to take her place as Leonard’s wife and become a proper woman.
“You look so beautiful, Ro.”
Elizabeth finally seemed comfortable with calling her by her first name.
“Thank you, Elizabeth.”
“If it’s all the same to you, when we are back in England, I’d very much like to call you Mrs. Ripley in front of the other staff. They’ll give me endless grief if they think you’re favoring me in any way.”