I found a clean tissue in my bag and handed it over. “That’s right, we sure are. Girls’ night coming right up.” Obviously dinner was off and I was sure Ian would understand. We could grab pizza and head over to my house.
“Great idea,” Madison said. She lifted her glass. “But in the meantime, white or red?”
“A glass of red would be great.” Sophie wiped her eyes with the tissue as Madison hurried off to the bar. “I’m so lucky to have such good friends.” She balled the tissue and tossed it into a nearby waste can then ran her fingers through her hair.
Chatting and laughing, Lukas and Ian sauntered our way, appearing to be unaware of Sophie’s emotional state. Since Ian and Jake were besties, I knew Ian would be upset about the breakup. I braced myself, not looking forward to him finding out. The ripple effects were going to be huge for all of us. We were such a tight-knit little gang.
Sophie froze when she noticed the men approaching, consternation and surprise warring on her face. Maybe she wasn’t ready to talk to Ian.
Then I saw Lukas give her a tentative smile. “Sophie Jacobs. I thought I might see you when I came to this neck of the woods. Would it be bad of me to say I hoped we would run into each other?”
CHAPTER 4
Sophie ran fingers through her hair, over and over. “Lukas. I’m stunned. I had no—How long has it been? Eight years?” Her cheeks pinked, making her look even prettier.
The warmth in his eyes said volumes. Dr. Lukas de Wilde had been in love with Sophie once. Was he still? “You were twenty and I was twenty-three.” He turned to us. “Sophie and I were at the University of Brussels at the same time.”
“I was in an exchange program,” Sophie explained. “Lukas was in the master’s program.”
Madison returned with a tray holding four glasses of wine. “What’d I miss?” she asked, sliding the tray onto the table and unloading the glasses.
A brief silence fell. Ian broke it. “Sophie and Lukas went to college together in Belgium.”
“Really?” Madison took a sip of wine. “That’s amazing. Did you know Sophie was living here?”
Lukas shook his head. “It is an example of, how do you say it? Serendipity.” He smiled at Sophie. “We’ll be here for the summer, Sophie, so I hope we’ll have a chance to catch up.”
“Hopefully,” Sophie said, her voice faint. She picked up her glass of wine and drank half of it in one go. I couldn’t blame her. Tonight had been one shock after another.
Perhaps sensing the tension around the table, Lukas said, “It was nice to see you all but I must excuse myself. Have a good evening.” He looked at Sophie. “I’ll be in touch.”
“But how?” Sophie began to root through her tiny handbag for her phone. “I don’t have your number.”
“I’ll come by for coffee soon.” Lukas grinned. “I’ve been told the Belgian Bean makes the best in town.”
“They sure do,” Madison said. “Great food too. Good night, Dr. de Wilde.”
After the good doctor strode away, Sophie stared after him, a shell-shocked expression on her face. And no wonder. First a devastating breakup and then, before she could take a breath, a former boyfriend reappeared. It was enough to make anyone’s head spin.
Ian asked, “What’s going on? I’m confused. And where is Jake? Did he cancel on us?”
Sophie bit her lip and shook her head, tears welling. “Jake isn’t … going to make it tonight.”
Ian’s mouth opened in alarm, but before he could ask, I said, “He and Sophie broke up.” I put a hand on his forearm. “Would you mind terribly if we take a rain check on dinner? We’d like to do an emergency girls’ night instead.”
He gave me a crooked smile. “Who am I to stand in the way of an emergency girls’ night?” He picked up his beer bottle and drained it. “Besides, I need to go track down Jake and find out what’s going on.” He pecked me on the lips, gave Sophie a hug, and said, “Hang in there, kid.” He then waved goodbye to everyone else and left.
“That man,” Bella said, watching him leave. “He is fabulous.”
“I think so too.” Guilt rolled over me and I winced. I’d better downplay the gushing over Ian so as not to rub salt in Sophie’s wounds. “Okay, girls. Want to head over to the farmhouse? I was thinking we could get pizza.” Grammie and I lived on the old Buckley property, in the 1820 farmhouse she and my grandfather had restored. I sent Grammie a text to let her know we were coming—and gave her a heads-up on the reason.
“Sounds good to me,” Madison said. Her thumbs worked the phone. “What do people want on their pizza? I’ll pick up the order at Cheese Louise.”
* * *
“Welcome, welcome.” Grammie greeted us at the door with hugs. She gave Sophie an extra-long one I noticed. But that was Grammie for you, caring and supportive. My friends all loved her as if she were their own grandmother.
Madison carried two large pizza boxes into the kitchen and placed them on the center island. “I got one all veggie and one Greek with sausage. Dig in.” Mouth-watering aromas of tomato, cheese, and oregano wafted toward us as she lifted the lids.
Grammie had already put out stacks of paper plates and napkins. For drinks, we chose from a selection of fruity seltzers and iced tea. The next few minutes were quiet except for the snap of caps and the murmurs of satisfaction as everyone took their first mouthfuls.
“I can’t believe I’m this hungry,” Madison said, reaching for a second slice. “After all that seaweed I ate.”
Grammie gave a snort of laughter. “Seaweed? Since when is that served at the Grille?”
“Since tonight, I guess,” I said. “Two local seaweed farmers had us test recipes the kitchen whipped up.” I shrugged. “The seaweed burger wasn’t bad. But I’m not giving up lobster any time soon.”
Bella pointed a finger at me. “And the organizers of the Lobster Festival thank you.”
Sophie put down her half-eaten slice of pizza. “Ugh. I forgot about the festival. Jake’s on the food committee with me.” She pressed her lips together. “I guess I’ll just have to deal. I’m not going to let the other committee members down.”
“What happened?” Grammie asked in a soft voice. “If you’re ready to talk about it, that is.”
Sophie thought about it while she scrubbed at her hands with a napkin. “I am. But let’s wait until we finish eating.” She gave us a sad smile. “I don’t want to wreck anyone’s dinner.” This was typical Sophie, who lived to feed people well and often.
After we’d eaten our fill, we carried our drinks out to the back porch and settled on the rockers and the swing. Summer twilights in Maine are long and the sunset was still orange over the western hills. Crickets chirped, and a soft breeze carried the scents of cut grass and flowers from the garden. Showing off for our guests, Quincy chased a white moth through a patch of spiky red bee balm.
“What a beautiful night,” Bella said with a sigh. “I wish I could bottle it up and save it for winter.”
“You mean you don’t like below-zero temps, howling winds, and six feet of snow?” Grammie asked in mock surprise.
We all laughed, except for Sophie, next to me on the swing. She sat head down, eyes fixed on her clasped hands. “It’s all my fault,” she whispered. “I really blew it.” The rest of us remained silent, respecting that this was her story and she needed to share it in her own time.
Heaving a sigh, she went on. “We’ve been arguing more than usual lately, but little spats that blow over. I chalked it up to a super-busy summer. Tons of stress, both of us working seven days a week. But tonight”—she swallowed, hard—“tonight the spat kept going. We brought up all kinds of stuff. Like his lobster business, for example. He and his father used to be partners. His dad retired last winter, but Jake has nothing in writing that says it’s solely his operation now.”
“It needs to be for tax purposes, for one thing,” Grammie said. “Or if Jake wants to get a loan or buy new equipment. Right now his dad would have to sign.”
Sophie pointed a finger at her. “Exactly. But on the flip side, Jake apparently has a huge grievance with me. He says we’re just treading water and he’s over it.”
“What does that mean?” Bella asked. “He wants to get married?”
Sophie ran a hand through her hair with a laugh. “He didn’t actually say that, but I guess so.”
“Is there a reason why you wouldn’t want the same thing?” I asked delicately. We’d all been rooting for that to happen. Surely that company paperwork thing could be taken care of in a heartbeat.
She puffed out air. “I don’t know. I mean, I love Jake, but whenever I think about putting a ring on it, I freeze up.”
“It doesn’t hurt to be cautious,” Bella said. “I should have been. But no, I allowed Alan to sweep me off my feet. And smack, I landed right on my butt.” Spoiled, entitled Alan had expected Bella to put up with his cheating and other shenanigans. “However,” Bella went on, “Jake is nothing like Alan. He’s a good man.”
“He is,” Sophie said. She tapped her temple. “My head knows that. And so does my heart. But my legs, they want to run whenever I think about a permanent commitment.” Her mouth turned down in a frown. “Ever since my first marriage.”
This announcement was met with gasps and exclamations of surprise. Not that I thought I knew everything about Sophie. Far from it, since she had moved to town only two years ago. But why had she kept this major life event under wraps?
“It was quick, awful, and over,” Sophie said, answering my unspoken question. “I was going to culinary school in Vermont when I met Wade.” She shuddered. “He was…”
“Don’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” I put my arm around her. “We get it.”
Madison darted over and gave Sophie a hug. “We sure do. And listen, call me any time, day or night.” The rest of us chimed agreement, including Grammie.
Sophie squeezed Madison hard then let go. “Thank you. I’m so lucky to have you guys.” Her face scrunched up and tears began to flow. “I think I just made the biggest mistake of my life.”
My heart went out to her. How I hated seeing my friend in pain. I’d been through a bad breakup before I moved home from Portland, and it had taken me months to get over it. In my case, ending the relationship had been for the best, but I just couldn’t believe the same about Sophie and Jake. If there was a way to get them back together, I would find it.
After minute or two, Sophie wiped her eyes. “Sorry. That’s enough for tonight.” Her tone was brisk and resolute. “Let’s talk about something else. Anything new and interesting?” She paused. “Besides Lukas de Wilde showing up out of the blue. Why don’t we shelve that topic for now?”
Despite my curiosity about their former connection, I had to agree. Sophie needed time to process the evening’s events. “I have an idea,” I said. “Who wants to see the vintage Coco Chanel clothing I got from Eleanor Brady?”
“I do, I do!” Madison jumped out of her chair, making it rock wildly. We all laughed.
“I wish I had your enthusiasm, Madison,” Grammie said. “Especially this time of night.” Despite her words, she hopped right up, lithe as her granddaughter. Namely me. “I’ll put on a pot of decaf and get out those cream-cheese brownies. For after we look.”
The clothing trunk was in the living room, against one wall. My plan was to do the research at night, after shop hours. After washing my hands, I sat cross-legged on the floor beside it, ready to do the big reveal, while the others settled in on the sofas and armchairs. Grammie was the last to come in, after starting the coffee.
“All right,” I said. “Are we ready?” At their assent, I threw open the trunk lid. “Ta-da.” The first piece was the fur-trimmed jacket. I stood, holding it up in front of me.
Bella, our resident fashionista, gave a groan of awe. She reached out a hand. “May I?” Standing beside me, she pointed out exactly why the garment was so lovely—a figure-flattering defined waist, perfectly matched plaid fabric, and a sense of movement provided by the curved hem.
“It’s a different shape than her later suits. They’re more boxy.” Sophie seemed as enthralled as the rest of us, and I was glad to have provided a distraction.
“Coco Chanel created some of the most glamorous dresses ever,” Grammie said. “That suit reminds me of her costume work in Hollywood. Gloria Swanson wore Chanel.”
“And so did Eleanor’s mother,” I said, with an ever-deepening sense of disbelief. “But she was a domestic worker.” I shared Claudia de Witte’s story, from immigrant to nursemaid to Walter Brady’s wife. “I can’t imagine how she got her hands on couture clothing. Eleanor doesn’t know either, which meant Claudia kept secrets even from her daughter.”
“How romantic.” Madison’s expression was dreamy. “The nursemaid married the millionaire.”
“Maybe she wasn’t always a nursemaid,” Sophie said. “Did you think of that?”
“You’re right. She might have come from a wealthy family.” I picked up the matching plaid skirt and held it to my body, liking the way a bias-cut garment draped. “But that raises the question of why she moved down socially.” Was it on purpose—or did she lack friends and connections?
Bella, who had been examining the jacket’s interior, gave a loud gasp. “Look.” She held up a large sapphire surrounded by diamonds in a teardrop setting. “I found this in the hem.”
CHAPTER 5
“I thought they were weights at first, sewn in to hold the hem down.” Bella handed me the sapphire then started working at the jacket seam again. “But the shape wasn’t right. See?” She displayed a second star-shaped jewel, again a sapphire surrounded by diamonds, then a third.
“I bet Claudia took apart a necklace,” Grammie said, taking the large sapphire from me. “But that begs a question, two questions actually. Where did she get the necklace, and why did she leave the pieces in the jacket?” She placed it on the coffee table.
“Either she was very wealthy, or”—I winced, hating to speak ill of Eleanor’s mother—“or she stole it.” The second theory might explain why she hid the stones rather than carry them openly and intact. I crossed my fingers, hoping Claudia had legitimately owned the necklace. By the looks of Shorehaven as it currently stood, finding valuable jewelry would be a welcome windfall.
Sophie held up a flower-shaped piece, the diamonds catching the light, then gently placed it next to the larger stone. “Could there be more jewelry in the other clothes?”
“Maybe.” I picked up the skirt again and felt along the hem. “There’s definitely something extra tucked in there.”
In the end, we each took an article of clothing, finding a string of pearls in the black-and-white evening dress, diamond earrings and a bracelet in the frocks, and the rest of the necklace in the suit, which had six stars, eight flowers, and two large teardrop sapphires, plus connecting diamonds. After arranging the items on the coffee table, we sat around it to admire the collection.
Madison put a hand to her head. “I can’t believe this. How long was this jewelry sitting up in Eleanor’s attic?”
“Since the early 1930s,” I said, snapping pictures of the pieces, including close-ups. I couldn’t even guess at their value. “Eleanor definitely didn’t know it was there or I’m sure she wouldn’t have given me the trunk.”
Grammie clasped her hands. “I can’t wait to tell her. What a treat, finding treasure in the attic.”
“In addition to the gorgeous vintage sheets and couture clothing Claudia owned, you mean?” I shook my head. “She was an enigma, that’s for sure.” And if Eleanor wanted to sell the jewelry, she’d need provenance, meaning a clear chain of ownership. Since I loved doing research, I would definitely volunteer to help. Plus I was itching to dig into the nursemaid’s mysterious background. Was she a runaway heiress or an adventuress with a loose moral code? Either way, Claudia was hiding secrets.
* * *
The sun was well below the horizon when I reluctantly climbed
out of bed the next morning. Quincy, curled warm in the blankets, lifted his head and eyed me incredulously. “Do ya believe it, Quince? When do I ever get up before dawn?” He merely blinked at me before snuggling back down with a groan.
The answer was never, since early morning and I were not friends. I staggered over to the dresser and pulled out nylon shorts in my favorite periwinkle blue, a white T-shirt, and underwear. The air was chilly now but would warm up after sunrise. Highs in the eighties were forecast today. I’d wear a windbreaker to start, and sneakers until I changed into climbing shoes. Madison had a pair that would fit me.
In the kitchen, I made a pot of coffee and toasted a sesame bagel. After filling a car cup and dressing the bagel with cream cheese and banana slices, I threw on the jacket and headed out to my car. In the still, damp morning air, my sneakers crunched loudly on the gravel and Beverly’s engine started with a throaty roar. I winced, hoping I hadn’t disturbed Grammie. She often had insomnia.
As I put the car into gear, my phone bleeped with a text from Madison. Are you up? I paused long enough to write back, On the road, lady. Well, I would be, in about sixty seconds.
Zipping along in Beverly this early, drinking coffee and taking bites of bagel, was a revelation. No other vehicles were in sight on this normally busy route, and an air of peaceful expectation lay over the rolling hills and slumbering homes. A fresh new day was about to begin. Anything was possible.
Maybe I should become an early riser. Nah. If Ian and Madison hadn’t forced me out of the house, I would be cuddled up in bed with Quincy right now. A huge yawn burst from my chest at the thought.
Once I got to narrow Cobscot Point Road, the woods pressed close, forcing me to slow down to a crawl. I was cresting a small rise when a sharp whine and a bright light startled me. A scooter was coming fast, aimed right at me.
What on earth—with a jerk of the wheel, I swerved to the edge, my right tires hitting the sandy shoulder with a thump. Just in time. The tiny blue motorbike zoomed past like a demented hornet, with only inches to spare. All I saw was a helmeted rider hunched low over the handlebars.
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