by Eve Calder
“Of course. Do you have a picture of it?”
“Not exactly. That’s the secret part. I brought it with me.”
Rosie’s face lit up. “Well, it certainly doesn’t belong to Lord Stewart Lord. And it’s not like he’s going to return it. I say this falls under a little legal code called finders keepers.”
“Ben Abrams would probably disagree. Peter Buchanan, too. And sooner or later, I’m either going to have to tell them or return it to its rightful owner. Probably both.”
“In the meantime,” Rosie said, sitting up in her chair, “let’s see this beauty.”
Chapter 57
Kate gently laid a white linen handkerchief on the table in front of Rosie and slowly unfolded it. It had seemed thoughtless to keep the bracelet jammed in her pocket, so she’d stored it carefully in one of the drawers beneath her new bed.
Rosie’s eyes opened wide as she reached for the bracelet. “Where exactly did you find this?”
“Stewart Lord’s private office bathroom. He had a closet where he kept a half-dozen suits, shoes, that kind of stuff. This was in an upper niche alone. Except for the dregs of a bottle of rum.”
“This was Muriel’s,” Rosie said in a hushed voice. She picked up the bracelet and laid it over one palm. “She bought it on her last trip out here. That was about two weeks before she died. What was he doing with it?”
“No idea. I don’t suppose Muriel drank rum?”
“Muriel didn’t drink anything. She was even careful about her coffee intake. Decaf only.” Rosie shook her head. “This is weird.”
“What?” Kate asked.
“This bracelet came with charms. See these?” she said, running her finger lightly over the silver form. “Also in sterling, also original to the period.” She pointed to three gaudy plastic discs, each the size of a quarter. “But not these. I’ve never seen them before.”
“I wondered about those,” Kate said. “They’re colorful. But they don’t exactly match the style.”
“Hot-pink, orange, and blue plastic charms on a fine piece of Edwardian jewelry? I’ll say they don’t match the style. Muriel never would have done this. She appreciated beautiful things.”
“Maybe they meant something to her personally. You know, sentimental value.”
“Maybe he did it,” Rosie countered. “The funny thing is, that last visit? She was spitting mad at Stewart Lord. But she was happy, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’d been pricing homes out here,” Rosie recalled. “Actually shopping them, I mean. Before, it was always more of a daydream. You know how people say ‘oh, someday’?”
Kate nodded. She’d done way too much of that in her own life.
“Well, this was different,” Rosie continued. “She was different. Angry. At Lord anyway. But proactive and happy, too. Does that make any sense?”
Kate nodded. “More than you know.”
“It was like she’d had some sort of a wake-up call. She was done idling in neutral. Muriel Hopkins was moving forward with her life.”
Chapter 58
Kate was baking cookies for three different birthday parties. Luckily, two customers wanted chocolate chip. But while one woman wanted actual cookies—four dozen for a kids’ party—the other wanted one giant cookie.
“Like a pizza,” the woman explained. “But with ‘Happy Birthday, Mike’ written on it. In red icing. He likes red. He also really likes golf. Can you draw a golf course on it?”
Kate talked the woman down from an entire golf course to just the putting green with a jaunty red flag.
She grinned as she hung up the phone. Culinary school had prepared her to work in a kitchen. But dealing directly with the public? That was a whole different skill set. She needed to be part baker, part psychiatrist, and part mind reader.
In between making cookies and breads, she created a color palette of pink royal icings. Another part of the job that was truly fun. She decided on a delicate shell pink for the gender reveal.
When the phone rang, Kate grabbed it—smearing several shades of icing on the handset and her apron. “The Cookie House, this is Kate.”
“I’ve got some news,” Maxi said rapid-fire. “Not good or bad. Just news.”
“Me too. I’ve been dying to talk, but the cookie orders are backing up. Head over before you go home. I have a little surprise. My way of saying ‘thank you.’”
“I know I said I’d miss having my very own cookie elf, but you don’t have to do that.”
“This isn’t cookies,” Kate said. “It’s dinner. Something I learned from a very talented Greek chef. Kreatopita. A meat pie. It’s got garlic and fresh herbs and a really flaky crust. And if you ever want a midnight snack, it’s just as good cold.”
“OK, now that I will take. Mi mami is out with her friends tonight. She tells everybody they play bridge. But I know they really play poker. Sometimes, even dominoes. But don’t tell her I told you. Good Cuban ladies don’t play dominoes.”
“However will you live down the shame?” Kate teased.
“That all depends on how much dinero she wins.”
Chapter 59
When Maxi walked into the bakery kitchen, four meat pies were cooling on a rack.
“Oh, this smells delicious! But how come this one has a little hole punched in the middle? And what’s with the little baby one on the end?”
“That’s a single serving for Sam. And the one with the hole is for Oliver and me. No garlic or onions because they’re bad for dogs. Instead, I substituted grated carrots and added extra rosemary, thyme, and basil. I made it look a little different so I wouldn’t get them mixed up.”
“If you want, I can take Sam his dinner on my way home. The news I mentioned? I finally counted the donations from Saturday and got the money to Sam’s bank. His lawyer had to stop by and sign off so they could drop the money into Sam’s account.”
“I never understood that. I mean, signing off to take money out, sure,” Kate said, vigorously washing her hands to remove all traces of icing. “But if any stranger wants to put a few dollars in my account, I say let them.”
“Ay, but this was more than just a few dollars. Between the checks and the cash, nine thousand, six hundred, and fifty-three dollars.”
“Oh my gosh! What did Sam say?” Kate asked.
“I haven’t told him yet. But I think he’ll be pleased. Even if he doesn’t admit it. It means people believe in him”
“In a big way. That’s fantastic.”
“And that’s not all,” Maxi said, bouncing in her chair. “While we were waiting on the bank manager to get everything signed, his lawyer—Bob Gifford—told me the assistant state attorney is having trouble linking Sam to the drug that killed Muriel Hopkins and Stewart Lord. So he wants to play Let’s Make a Deal again. If Sam pleads guilty to two counts of involuntary manslaughter, he’ll recommend ten to fifteen years in prison. And this time, he’s not asking for any of the details. Just sign the paper and say he did it. Bob said that Sam could be out in seven years. Or maybe even less.”
“What did Sam say?” Kate asked, tensing.
“Sam said ‘no way!’ Mi padrino won’t confess to something he didn’t do.”
“Thank goodness.”
“But the assistant state attorney making another offer?” Maxi said. “That’s a very good sign.”
“It is. It really is. What did Bob Gifford say?”
“They still have a long way to go to clear Sam. But it’s looking better.”
“Wow, that is good news.”
“So what’s your gossip? Or am I s’posed to take my meat pies and go home?”
“The bracelet was Muriel’s.”
“No! Who told you that?”
“Rosie. Muriel bought it from their shop the last time she visited Coral Cay. About two weeks before she died.”
“How did that slimy toad Lord get it?”
“That’s the puzzle. I guess he could have found it in the office
after she died. Or when they were clearing out her desk someone might have discovered it and turned it over to him. But none of that explains the rum. Oh, and there’s one other weird thing. The bracelet and most of the charms are sterling silver and old. Edwardian, Rosie said. But the bright-colored plastic charms? They weren’t on the bracelet when Muriel bought it. Someone added them later. And Rosie is convinced it wasn’t Muriel.”
“That is super strange.”
“I know, right? A lot of little, nagging details that don’t seem important. Like the bits of stray dough trimmed from a piecrust. So why can’t I shake the feeling that they actually mean something?”
Chapter 60
The next morning, Kate padded down the stairs, opened the back door for Oliver, and plugged in Sam’s coffeemaker. It was an old-fashioned model from the nineties that the baker had probably bought new. Black plastic, with a glass carafe, it made up to twelve cups at a time. And she was grateful for every single caffeinated drop.
As Oliver galloped down the stairs and slipped quietly out the door, she pulled Muriel’s bracelet out of her robe pocket and placed it carefully on the kitchen table.
As the coffeemaker burbled and gurgled, she stared at the bracelet, finally picking it up and feeling its weight in her hand. She turned it, fingering each of the charms. The plastic discs were modern and cheery. But next to the antique silver they looked cheap and awkward.
Muriel purchased the bracelet. But Stewart Lord ended up with it. So which one added the new charms? And why?
Kate recalled the antique dealer’s anger when she noticed the colorful baubles. She half-expected Rosie to rip them from the bracelet on the spot.
Oliver trotted through the back door and made a quick circle of the kitchen. He disappeared into the shop and came back with his bright red Kong. The toy had been a gift from Barb Showalter, and the puppy loved it.
Kate filled her coffee cup and splashed in some cream. As she sat down, Oliver dropped the conical toy gently next to her chair and gazed up into her eyes.
Before presenting it to Oliver, Barb had revealed that the Kong wasn’t just a toy. It was also a game. “A smart dog like Oliver needs mental stimulation,” the bookseller had explained.
And this rubber toy concealed a secret: a little niche inside to place a dollop of peanut butter, cheese, or liverwurst. It was a puzzle, treat, and toy all in one.
Unfortunately, Oliver was good at puzzles. He located and consumed the hidden treats in no time flat. Kate suspected he felt the same way about peanut butter as she did about chocolate.
“Time for a refill?” she asked the eager pup. “Already? I’m going to put a stopwatch on you one of these days,” she said softly, petting his silky head. “I think you’re setting a new record.”
She reached into the fridge and pulled out a jar of peanut butter. She smeared some onto a paper towel and then worked it into the hollow space in the toy. Then she offered the toy to Oliver.
“OK, this should keep that crafty brain of yours occupied for a few minutes. Seriously, I think it takes longer for me to put the peanut butter in than for you to get it out, you know that?”
Oliver dropped to the floor, rolled onto his back, and held the Kong with his two front paws, wrestling it energetically.
Too bad he couldn’t solve the puzzle in front of her. The puzzle of the mismatched charm bracelet. Maybe if she smeared peanut butter on it—
Suddenly Kate snatched the bracelet off the table. She carefully turned it to the dark blue plastic charm and tried to remove it from the bracelet. When that didn’t work, she grabbed a small fork from the cutlery drawer. She slid one tine gently through the charm’s metal connecting loop. When she’d pried it far enough open, she lifted it gently off of the bracelet.
The charm was heavy. Heavier than she expected, considering that it was made of plastic and chrome. She flipped it in her hand. Perfectly round, slightly larger than a quarter, and about half an inch thick. Edged all the way around with a shiny chrome band.
She grabbed the top and tugged. Nothing. She put her thumb and forefinger on the front and back of the charm, squeezed hard, and gave the link on top a quick yank. It came apart in her hand.
The two parts fit together so seamlessly, they’d looked like one. The first piece was most of the charm. Two thin round plastic discs along with almost all of the chrome band. It was hollow. The second piece was smaller. Just the metal connecting link that had fastened the charm to the bracelet, the remaining bit of the chrome band, and—protruding from that—a short USB stick.
Chapter 61
Kate sat at the computer in the flower shop as Maxi hovered behind her.
“I can’t believe you found these things in a piece of jewelry,” Maxi said quietly. “Who do you think put them there?”
“Off the top of my head, I’d say Muriel. She bought the bracelet. And from what Rosie and Andre said, she was fed up with Lord. Apparently, the last time Muriel visited Coral Cay she’d had some sort of epiphany. I think she’d finally made a decision. I think she’d decided to expose Stewart Lord.”
“Not a very safe thing to do,” Maxi said, shaking her head. “But why the charm bracelet? And the secret memory sticks?”
“I could be way off base, but I believe she was compiling evidence to bring him down. Muriel had access to his business records, computer files, paperwork, contact lists, you name it. But she needed a place to stash it. Some place handy but also hidden. And face it, who’d look twice at a middle-aged woman’s charm bracelet?”
“And the fact that she bought it in Coral Cay and was using it to help save Coral Cay…”
“A little extra measure of justice,” Kate said, smiling.
“But why would Lord keep it? He’d throw it out. Or destroy it.”
“He very well might have,” Kate said dejectedly. “These first two sticks are empty.”
“Are you sure?” Maxi asked.
Kate nodded grimly, reaching for the third. “Here goes nothing,” she said, shoving it into the slot on the back of Maxi’s computer tower.
Kate tapped a few keys and the screen displayed a menu. She opened a document and scanned it. Then another. And another.
“What is it?” Maxi asked, stepping closer to the display.
“This one’s not empty,” Kate said softly. “Definitely not empty. Page after page of documents. All related to Lord Enterprises. And Coral Cay. Reports. Memos. Receipts. Schematics. Blueprints. Government filings. Oh boy, we are going to need some serious time to go through these. But it looks like this could be the mother lode.”
“See when they were put onto the stick,” Maxi prompted.
“Let … me … check.…” Kate’s voice trailed off as she pecked a few more keys. “OK, the first one was loaded last month. The eleventh at six fourteen a.m. And the last document was downloaded on the fifteenth at nine fifty-two at night.”
“Nothing since then?” Maxi asked anxiously.
“No. And Muriel died the next day. You’re right—that date clinches it. These have to be hers.”
“She was super cagey,” Maxi said. “She did her sleuthing early in the morning or late at night—probably when no one else was at the office.”
“And since she was Lord’s personal secretary, it would be natural for her to be the first one in or the last one to leave. Just your typical diligent, devoted assistant.”
“So how did Lord catch on?” Maxi asked.
“That,” said Kate, “is exactly what I’d like to find out. And I think I know just who to call.”
* * *
“Yeah, I’ve seen more than a few of these document dumps in my time,” Manny said as his thick fingers typed away at Maxi’s computer.
Sporting a red Hawaiian shirt, the P.I. had traded the cargo shorts for jeans. No hat today, Kate noticed. But he had a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head.
“You don’t want to know how many of my cases involve corporate espionage,” he said. “That and
divorce work keep me in dog chow.”
“It’s going to take forever to read them,” Maxi said.
“Nah, the secret is triage. What do you want to know most?”
“Did Stewart Lord find out Muriel was on to him?” Kate asked. “And if so, how?”
“That part’s a piece of cake. Or, in your case, some of those ginger cookie things. John Quincy really likes those.”
“That’s a deal,” Kate said, smiling. “So how can you tell?”
“A lot of what your lady saved are photos. Pictures of paper documents. You start with those.”
“Why?” Maxi asked.
“Two reasons,” Manny said, holding up two tanned fingers. “Paper means someone wasn’t putting it into the computer. Probably stuff your developer friend didn’t want on the company hard drive. Two, a lot of these photos are receipts.”
“Follow the money,” Kate said, remembering Dr. Patel’s advice.
“Yup,” Manny said, typing. “Huh. This is weird.”
“What is it?” Maxi asked.
“See this receipt? Syntegration Solutions?”
“Yes,” Kate and Maxi said in unison.
“Spyware. Company’s pretty well known in certain circles. And I’ve seen this program in action. Nasty stuff. Dump it on somebody’s phone and it’ll tell you everything but what they had for lunch. That too, probably.”
“What do you mean?” Maxi asked.
“Well, basically, it’s a phone bug. Records calls, copies emails. Can even track somebody in real life with GPS. And that’s cheating, if you ask me. If you can’t run a tail the old-fashioned way, you got no business spying on people.”
Kate met Maxi’s eyes and tried not to smile.
“Odd thing is, according to the receipt, your guy bought two dozen copies,” he said, pointing to the monitor. “That means he can put it on twenty-four different phones. Most cases, it’s a one-off. One spouse or business partner tracking the other.”