What the Hatmaker Heard

by Sandra Bretting

  We made a quick detour to the kitchen before we left the house. While I waited by the door, Lance tucked the mysterious gift into a dark corner of the counter, where it wouldn’t be noticed. He must’ve remembered what happened in the wine cellar, though—when someone made off with two pieces of evidence—because he tossed a dish towel over the top, and he even camouflaged the front of it by stacking cups there.

  He spoke the minute we stepped outside. “So, you had a rough night?”

  “I did. Once I found out we didn’t have to worry about Electra leaving, I thought I’d fall right asleep. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the case. Or about the Riverboat Queen. I had the worst nightmare, but it felt so real.”

  “I have some more information on that, too,” Lance said. “The investigators worked around the clock to see if they could determine how the fire started. Most people don’t know this, but they inspected the least-burnt areas first, because that’s where the best evidence could be gathered. You’ll never guess what they found.”

  “Besides the motorboat fuel?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Someone had taken an O ring out of the fire-suppression system overhead and tossed it in the bathroom. The inspectors found it at the bottom of the toilet bowl, where someone tried to flush it away. Without that O ring, the system didn’t work properly, because the carbon dioxide canisters couldn’t fire.”

  “Okay, now you’re losing me. I have no idea how that fire stuff works.”

  “It’s pretty simple, actually. People install a fire system at the roofline that sends a retardant through sprayers. But if the carbon dioxide system can’t open the canisters of that retardant, nothing gets sent through the sprayers. Nada. Now they’re looking at who wanted to burn the boat, and why.”

  “I hate to say this, but I’m really afraid it might be the riverboat captain. Knowing Christophe d’Aulnay, he wasn’t going to let his business go down the drain without putting up a fight.”

  “You might be right. They’re talking to everyone this morning…from the wait staff to the cooks and the d’Aulnays. The boat was insured for up to a million dollars, so there’s a lot at stake here.”

  “Interesting. Also, I wanted to tell you about a conversation I overhead outside of Electra’s room.”

  “What did you hear?” He squinted at me, since neither of us had remembered to bring our sunglasses outside.

  “Well, she was talking with someone I couldn’t see. But she mentioned how easy it was to get rid of someone. She said it was ‘almost too easy.’”

  That caught Lance’s attention, and his stare hardened. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “Tell me about it. I couldn’t see the other person, but she told him—or her—she wished she would’ve left the property. And, get this, she said she loved whomever she was talking to. She even called the person, ‘my love.’”

  Lance whistled softly. “And I didn’t see that one coming, either. Now, I know you didn’t get a good view, but who do you think she was talking to?”

  “Beats me. I wish I would’ve recorded the conversation on my phone for you. I didn’t think quickly enough to do that. She even caught me standing in the hall, but luckily, I bluffed my way out of it.”

  “Good for you. I’ll definitely have to ask her about that this morning. Don’t worry, though; I won’t tell her where I got my information. And there’s one last thing we need to talk about.”

  I groaned. Already my mind whirled from everything we’d discussed. “Now I know I should’ve had another cup of coffee. Pretty soon my brains are going to leak out of my ears if I’m not careful.”

  He chuckled, but he didn’t stop. “Got a call around two this morning. My officers picked up Buck. They stopped him at the Louisiana border. You were right. He was trying to get back home to New Orleans.”

  “I knew it! Out of all the places he could’ve gone, that one made the most sense to me. But why? Why did he run away from everyone like that?”

  “He said he got freaked out when those goons tried to kidnap him. Said he was afraid it would happen again.”

  “But those two guys are in jail. You said so yourself.”

  He nodded. “They are. But Buck said he was worried about others. That’s not all. He tried to take some stuff from the house with him. I know you told me about the antiques you found on the walkway, but I want to make sure he didn’t rob the Honeycutts before he left.”

  Lance withdrew his cell and lightly touched the screen. “Here, I took some pictures.”

  Once he accessed the camera function, he tilted the phone at me.

  Sure enough, a picture of a beautiful jeweled photo frame appeared. It wore an exquisite border of amethysts, jade, and pearls. I’d recognize it anywhere. The next picture showed an antique candlestick with a burnished HH monogram on the front.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked.

  “Those are the exact same things he took the first time around.” I shrugged, since Nelle didn’t seem too bothered by it before. “Mrs. Honeycutt said she gave them to Buck to have them appraised at his father’s antiques store.”

  “That’s what he said.” Lance frowned. “I don’t have a legal reason to keep him at this point. He’s got a clean record, and I don’t have enough probable cause, let alone reasonable suspicion, to hold him.”

  “What’s going to happen to him, then?”

  “First thing I want to do is get him back to the house,” Lance said. “I want everybody in the room when we meet this morning at seven.” He hit a different button on the cell’s screen. “I’ll call the station and ask them to transfer him here.”

  While Lance called his counterparts at the police station, I studied the grounds around me. Sure enough, a thornberry bush appeared among a cluster of azaleas and asters. The flowers were shaped like miniature trumpets, just as Darryl described them, with dark purple centers and lilac tips. The seed pods were larger than I thought they’d be—about the size of a lime—with barbs that resembled spikes on a puffer fish.

  Such a strange, alien seed pod for such a pretty plant. Other than that, the thornberry bush looked like its neighbors, with the same veined leaves and hardy stalks.

  Once Lance finished with his call, he slipped the phone back in his pocket.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Nothing. My partner’s bringing him back here. Other than that, I’m afraid we’re at a standstill.”

  “So, what’re you going to say to everyone this morning? Do you still want to go through with the meeting?”

  “Definitely.” He studied the ground, too, but his thoughts seemed a million miles away. “I bet you weren’t the only one who couldn’t sleep last night. People get loose-lipped whenever they’re tired, and I’m going to use that to my advantage this morning. Let the tension build until someone cracks.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been talking to Electra,” I said. “Like you’re going to put on a show for us.”

  “I just might,” he said. “And according to my calculations, it’s show time.”

  We slowly turned around. Someone inside the house in front of us knew more about the murder than he—or she—was saying. And it was time to find out who.

  Chapter 17

  Lance strode back to the kitchen, with me on his heels. By the time we stepped into the room, several people had bunched around the coffee machine, groggily waiting for a turn with it.

  Nelle was there, since most of her guests had gravitated to the kitchen instead of the sunroom, and Lance quickly moved to her side. He whipped out his cell and scrolled through the pictures for her, and, just like I thought, she seemed nonplussed by them. She shook her head a few times, until Lance finally lowered the phone.

  “So, we meet again.”

  A voice sounded behind me, and I turned to see Electra. She still sounded groggy, and her dress looked about a
s wrinkled as mine.

  Hopefully, she had no idea what I overheard in the hall. “So, how was your night?”

  “Not the best,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep a wink. The suspense is killing me.”

  “I’ll bet.” Wonder what she’ll say when Lance confronts everyone this morning? “You sound like you haven’t had any coffee yet. Let’s go get you a cup.”

  Since Lance was busy with Nelle, and I wanted to ask Electra a few questions, I led her over to the coffeepot. Luckily, there was still some left, so I reached for it before anyone else could grab it. “Here you go.” I quickly poured some coffee into a cup and passed it to her. “Anything interesting happen this morning?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Interesting? It’s only seven in the morning. About the most interesting thing to happen to me has been this coffee.”

  “What I meant was, have you had a chance to talk with anyone yet today?”

  “Me? I don’t think so.” She frowned as she took a sip from her cup. “That’s kind of a strange question, don’t you think?”

  “Just making conversation.” Maybe if I played it off, she wouldn’t suspect the real reason for the question.

  “Well, this weekend has me so frazzled, I can only imagine how it’s affected my mom and stepdad.”

  At the mention of Electra’s parents, my gaze flitted around the room, to the others. It seemed everyone had found their way downstairs, to the kitchen, except for the Carmichaels. Over there, by the sink, stood Jamie Lee, with Lorelei next to him. He’d turned his back on the group as he spoke with her, and he nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  At the other end of the sink stood Stormie, who looked camera-ready this morning in a crimson suit with a form-fitting jacket. Leave it to Stormie to wear a tight jacket, even while pregnant. Sure enough, the jacket struggled to close at the bottom, and she hadn’t bothered to fasten the last few buttons.

  Come to think of it, what was Stormie doing in the kitchen with us? Ever since Darryl and I discovered Wesley’s body in the water tower, people hadn’t exactly welcomed her presence. They could tolerate her when they thought she planned to film a puff piece about the “wedding of the century,” but now that her had story changed into a hard-hitting news piece about a murder investigation, she didn’t really belong here. Not with the victim’s family so close by. I had half a mind to tell her that, since Nelle would be too polite to say it, and everyone else would be too intimidated.

  Since she wasn’t bothering anyone at the moment, though, and I still hoped Electra might slip and mention her early-morning visitor, I decided to keep my mouth shut.

  At that moment, Electra pointed to something on the counter. While still tucked out of sight, someone had ripped open the cardboard box Lance left there. My heart immediately fell to my stomach. Not again.

  I closed my eyes, willing the clock to be there. Sure enough, when I opened them again, I spied it at a different spot on the counter. Gracious light! We couldn’t afford to have another piece of evidence go missing, and that was too close for comfort.

  “What is that?” Electra asked.

  “It’s a gift someone sent your stepbrother. It arrived yesterday.”

  “But what is it?” When she squinted, I realized she couldn’t see it as well as I could.

  “It’s an old clock. It’s an antique, actually. Very pretty.” I left off the part about the cryptic message on the back.

  “You don’t say.” She glanced back at the coffeepot. “Maybe I should take some of this upstairs to my mom. She might need the caffeine this morning, too.”

  “That’s a good idea. Be sure to come down to the sunroom afterward.”

  Just as Electra reached for the stack of cups, a noise stopped her short. The back door banged open, and who should enter the room but Buck, with his head hung low and his gaze glued to the floor.

  Everyone fell silent. Close on his heels was Lance’s partner, the pretty Hispanic I’d already seen several times this weekend.

  “Hey, y’all.” He mumbled the greeting as he shuffled into the kitchen.

  “Thanks for giving him a ride, Leticia,” Lance called to her. “No need to stay. I can handle it from here.”

  His partner nodded, and then she worked her way back to the exit. In the meantime, Buck ignored Lance and headed over to where I stood.

  “You’re back,” I said, unnecessarily.

  “Looks like it.” He nodded at the coffee machine. “Mind if I get some?”

  “Suit yourself.” I moved aside so he could reach it.

  “Where did you go?” Electra asked. “We all thought you were hiding something because otherwise you would’ve stayed here. It wasn’t very smart of you to run away, to tell you the truth.”

  Look who’s talking, I wanted to say, but that would only let her know I was on to her.

  Her comment didn’t seem to faze Buck. “I had some business back in New Orleans. Thought I’d get a jump on it, since it wasn’t doing me any good to stay here.”

  “Oh, come on.” Electra didn’t appear to be buying it. “That’s baloney. First, two guys who look like they came straight out of central casting for the Mafia showed up on the doorstep and hustled you out of here. Then you packed your bags and ran away in the middle of the night. That doesn’t sound like a little side trip to visit the folks, if you know what I mean.”

  “Okay. Maybe you’re right. To be honest, I was scared. I thought if I stayed here, the bookie would send someone else to get me. Wesley owed him a lot of money, and those guys don’t exactly play nice, if you know what I mean.”

  I plucked a coffee cup from the stack and handed it to him. Listening to these two could prove mighty interesting. “Here. Sounds like you might need this.”

  He nodded his thanks and stepped up to the machine. While he got some coffee, I quickly scanned the crowd for Lance. He and Nelle still stood side by side, next to the door, and they’d obviously finished their conversation. It seemed the perfect time to get the ball rolling.

  “C’mon, you guys,” I said. “Detective LaPorte is giving us an update on the case in the sunroom. Why don’t we head over there now?”

  Buck took a big gulp of coffee, and then he walked over to the sink and poured the rest down the drain. “No problem. This coffee isn’t exactly worth sticking around for.”

  He turned to throw away the cup, when something on the counter caught his eye. He gravitated toward the clock, which lay on its side, with the dish towel nearby.

  “What’s this?” He pointed at the gift.

  “Just something that was sent to the house yesterday,” I said. “Look, we should probably get going—”

  “What a beauty.” He seemed mesmerized by it. “Look at that wood.”

  Before he could reach for it, and possibly contaminate the evidence, I plucked up the dish towel and threw it over the wood.

  “Here…you need to use that if you’re going to touch it,” I said. “And you’ll notice someone ruined the back of it with a black felt pen.”

  “Why would anyone do that?” He looked pained by the thought. “Don’t they know it’s an antique?”

  “They wrote something on the back?” Electra edged closer. “Let me see.”

  I carefully gripped the bottom of the case with the towel and gently turned it over. The minute the graffiti appeared, Electra gasped.

  “That’s awful! I can’t imagine what someone was thinking. Is that supposed to be a joke?”

  “Hardly.” I carefully turned the clock around again and laid it on the counter.

  “Even with the writing, the clock is priceless,” Buck said. “It’s from Asia. China, to be exact. Probably produced in a place called Nanjing. I’d put the date at about eighteen hundred.”

  “You can tell all that from one look?” I asked.

  “Sure. The cas
e tells me everything I need to know. It’s made of rosewood, which looks a lot like mahogany. And the scrolled base is typical for that period. See the slit on the bottom? It’s actually a drawer, to hold the winding keys.”

  He took the towel from me and slid open a hidden compartment at the base of the clock. Sure enough, two miniature brass keys twinkled.

  “Cool!” Electra breathed the word. “Amazing no one lost the keys after so many years.”

  “It probably stayed in the same family,” Buck said. “But that’s not what gets me. The real question is this: why would anyone send a clock to a wedding in the first place?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “Because it looks like a family heirloom?”

  “Well, there’s that,” he slid the compartment closed again. “But there’s more to it than that. No one in China would ever give a clock for a wedding gift, because it’s supposed to be bad luck. The word ‘clock’ in Mandarin is the same word for ‘the end.’ So it’s considered a bad omen to give a new couple a clock. Everyone knows that.”

  I blinked. And, all at once, the words hit home. The truth almost blindsided me when I realized what he’d said.

  Chapter 18

  “I…I have to go.” I stumbled away from the counter, almost knocking into Buck in the process.

  A million thoughts raced through my mind. Of course, Buck and Electra stared at me as if I’d gone crazy, but I couldn’t very well worry about that right now. There’d be time enough to explain everything after we caught the murderer.

  I hurried toward the door, and, thank goodness, Lance still stood beside it. He hadn’t moved from his spot with Nelle, but his smile waned when he saw me.

  “Missy? What’s wrong?”

  “You have to come with me.” I quickly glanced at Nelle, who didn’t seem to know what to make of my breathless announcement. “Now.”

  There was no time to lose. So I grabbed his arm and practically pulled him into the foyer.

  “Whoa there, Missy.” He dug in his heels by the front door. “What’s all this about?”