Gingerdead Man

by Maya Corrigan

  Val wasn’t sure the police could use evidence Granddad had acquired illegally, but that was preferable to having it disappear. “While we’re driving, I’ll fill you in on what Chatty heard from Jewel. In essence, the glue that kept Jake and Jewel stuck together was blackmail.”

  Chapter 13

  When Val and Granddad arrived at Jewel’s house, she asked them into her small living room, thanked him for the chicken dinner, and left to put it in the refrigerator. By the time she returned to the living room, Granddad and Val were sitting in the two chairs that faced the window. They’d deliberately left Jewel only one place to sit—on the sofa with her back to the window. From that position, she’d be less likely to notice if Granddad went to the car to copy files to the laptop.

  Jewel had pulled herself together in the two days since they’d last visited her. She’d trimmed the jagged edges of the nails she’d broken, but the polish on them was still chipped. They were conspicuous next to her other nails, still pointy and shiny with little gifts painted on them. In her all-black outfit, slacks and a snug pullover sweater, she might have passed for a woman in mourning, but the heavy gold jewelry on her wrists, around her neck, and dangling from her ears suggested a widow ready to be merry.

  “When did you last see the thingie you want me to find?” Granddad said.

  “Thursday or Friday. Jake plugged it in when he was working on the computer and took it out when he finished. He always stuck it in his pocket, but he never left it there. I know because I checked his pockets now and then. He must have had a hiding place for it.”

  Granddad said, “Do you know exactly what kind of information he put on it?”

  Jewel nodded. “Where his money was, account numbers, passwords. He was afraid someone might break in and steal his computer, so he didn’t want to put that stuff on it.”

  Or he was afraid Jewel might get her hands on it. Val exchanged a look with Granddad, knowing he was thinking the same thing. She would sit quietly and let him ask questions. She’d get her turn while he searched for the thumb drive.

  Jewel fidgeted. “I need money to tide me over until I can sell this house. It’s not fair that I can’t get to it. One of the neighbors told me I’d have to fill out forms and list the value of Jake’s estate in order to inherit. I have no idea what the value is.”

  Granddad stroked his chin. “Did he leave a will?”

  “I looked all over for it. It didn’t turn up. I guess he didn’t figure on dying.”

  The hint of sarcasm in Jewel’s comment didn’t surprise Val. From what she’d heard about the Smiths’ relationship, she would have been suspicious if Jewel had pretended sorrow over Jake’s death. Instead, she seemed mainly concerned about her own financial situation. Hard to believe she’d kill him when she was so dependent on him for money. On second thought, maybe she was pretending she had nothing to gain by his death. If so, she was shrewder than Val had given her credit for.

  “Do you have any idea who might have killed him?” Granddad said.

  “The person in the costume who left him a poisoned cookie. It must have been someone who followed him from where we used to live. A couple of people were after him for money. He was always on the lookout, moving the curtain aside and peeking through the window to see if anyone was out there.”

  Granddad pointed to the window behind the sofa where Jewel sat. “Did you ever see anyone out there?”

  “Not until Jake was dead. On Sunday morning I saw a guy in a sweat suit hanging out across the street. When the police came by to talk to me and I opened the door for them, he jogged away.”

  Val assumed the man had been warming up for jogging, not watching Jewel’s house. An avid runner who lived near Granddad’s house always walked up one side of the street, crossed, and then walked along the other side before breaking into a trot. Val had also seen him doing a cool-down walk when he returned from his run.

  “Was that the only time you saw the man in the sweat suit?” When she nodded, Granddad continued. “Can you describe him?”

  “No. His jacket had a hood and I couldn’t see his face.”

  “How tall was he? Was he slim or heavy?”

  “He wasn’t tall or especially thin or fat, just normal-size. He didn’t limp like the guy who poisoned Jake, so I wasn’t superworried. He looked a little familiar. That’s why I thought he might be someone Jake knew in Texas.” Jewel tapped her fingertips on the sofa arm. “Where do you want to start your search?”

  Granddad stood up. “I’ll look in the study first.” He crossed the hall to the small room with a big desk visible through the open door.

  “I went through everything in there. I hope you’ll see something I missed.” Jewel turned to Val. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be glad to drive your grandfather home.”

  “I don’t mind waiting for him. How did you and Jake end up in this area?”

  “He liked the Chesapeake Bay. When he was young, his uncle took him here a few times. They went out on boats to fish and drove to the beach at Ocean City. Lately, Jake’s been shopping for a boat.”

  “He had good memories here. Any special reason he chose Bayport?”

  “I asked him that once. As a kid he read books about two brothers who had adventures in a place called Bayport.”

  Val nodded. “The Hardy Boys. I read a few of those books.” When a Nancy Drew wasn’t nearby. “My brother was a real fan of the Hardy Boys . . . like Jake, I guess.”

  He might have been trying to recapture his childhood innocence, returning to a place he’d enjoyed when young, settling in a town that reminded him of the one in his favorite books. Val stopped herself from sentimentalizing Jake. His actions as an adult suggested he’d lost that innocence for good.

  Granddad came in. “I didn’t find the thumb drive, I mean the thingie, in the study. Do you have an outdoor shed, Jewel?”

  “It’s a lean-to against the house. I took a quick look in there, but I didn’t want to poke around because of the spiders. I’ll get you the key.” She fetched it from the kitchen and gave it to Granddad. As he left the house, she said to Val, “You must have other things to do. I’d be glad to give your grandfather a lift home.”

  Val wondered if Jewel had made up the missing thingie as a way to lure Granddad here. Maybe she wanted a replacement Santa. “Granddad will be finished soon. You might face complications in getting access to Jake’s funds. The people who said he owed them money might sue for part of his estate. You should probably consult a lawyer. I have a friend who’s a lawyer here in Bayport, Althea Johnson.”

  “I can’t afford a lawyer. I might not even be able to keep a roof over my head.” Jewel glanced up at the ceiling.

  If she hocked her jewelry, she’d stave off poverty for at least a few months. “Althea won’t charge much, if anything, to meet with you once,” Val said. “She’ll give you basic information on what you need to do and then explain how she can help you. Sometimes lawyers are willing to wait to be paid until a client comes into the money. I don’t know if that would apply in your case, but it never hurts to ask.”

  Val noticed Granddad through the window behind the sofa. He opened the door to her car and climbed inside. Apparently, he’d found the thumb drive in the shed, and now he was going to copy the files from it to the laptop.

  Jewel chewed on her lip. “What did you say your lawyer friend’s name is?”

  “I’ll write it down for you.” Val took out one of her business cards and scrawled Althea’s name on the reverse side.

  Jewel took the business card from Val. “Thank you. I hope your friend gives me a break on this.”

  “I hope she does too. Once you settle the issues related to Jake’s estate, will you stay in Bayport?”

  “No. It’s too cold here. Besides, the people who hounded him might come after me too. I’ll leave this town as soon as I can.” Jewel stood up. “It’s almost happy hour. Would you like some wine or beer?”

  “No, thank you. If you’re getting yourse
lf a drink, I wouldn’t mind a glass of water, please.” Val checked her watch. A little early for happy hour, but high time she went home to finish preparing tonight’s dinner for Elaine, Cyndi, and Kevin.

  “I’ll get some snacks too.”

  While Jewel was in the kitchen, Granddad came back into the house with the laptop in one hand and the thumb drive in the other.

  “You found it,” Val said quietly. “That didn’t take long.”

  He whispered back, “I saw a new pair of garden gloves hanging on a hook and a pair of grungy ones on a shelf. The new ones still had tags on them. I took them off the hook and felt something hard in the thumb. What better place to hide a thumb drive?”

  Val smiled. Jake had a childlike sense of humor. She remembered that Jewel’s drawl had prompted his comment that Mrs. Claus came from the South Pole. “He enjoyed his own jokes even if no one else did.”

  When Jewel returned from the kitchen and heard about Granddad’s find, she asked him to plug the thingie into his computer and show her what was on it. He sat at Jake’s desk in the study with Jewel next to him. Val hovered behind them, despite Jewel’s glares. Granddad opened the most recently updated spreadsheet on Jake’s thumb drive and found exactly what Jewel had wanted. Abbreviations for big banks or brokerage houses, their physical and Web addresses, and what appeared to be account numbers, user names, and passwords. Judging by the amount of money Jake listed for each institution, he was worth easily a million dollars.

  At Jewel’s request, Granddad attached the printer cable to the laptop and printed a hard copy of the spreadsheet for her. Then she wanted to try to access the bank records. He talked her through the process of getting to the Web site for a bank and how to log in to the accounts. But the password in the spreadsheet didn’t work.

  After trying without success to get into accounts at three different institutions, Granddad said, “Jake probably entered coded versions of his passwords. I can take a look at them to see if anything strikes me, but you may need expert help decoding them.”

  Jewel pouted. “There must be a way to get to the money without a password. People die all the time, and their families don’t have passwords.”

  “You’ll have to go through the process of being recognized by the court as the executor and heir. Then you’ll need to send your credentials and Jake’s death certificate to the banks and brokers, and they’ll arrange for the transfer of funds, if everything checks out.”

  “That means I won’t get the money any time soon.”

  Val said, “At least now you can estimate the value of Jake’s estate.” Assuming he didn’t have another thumb drive somewhere with information about more accounts.

  Jewel wanted Granddad to try getting into another bank account before he left. Val left him on his own and walked home to finish the dessert for Oliver Naiman’s family.

  On the way she thought about the irony of her visits with Holly and Jewel. They each had an apparent motive and the opportunity to kill Jake at the tea, but also a reason for wanting Jake alive. Though Val couldn’t rule out either of them as Jake’s poisoner, they weren’t at the top of her list. That honor still belonged to the Ghost of Christmas Presents. How had a black-robed person with a gift bag on his head become as invisible as a ghost after leaving the bookshop? What, if anything, connected Jake’s death to Oliver’s?

  No answers came to her as she finalized the dinner for Oliver Naiman’s family. Unlike the last time she’d made dinner for them, this time she didn’t anticipate a happy evening. The family would have a harder time dealing with Oliver’s death than Jewel had reconciling herself to Jake’s murder.

  * * *

  Granddad still hadn’t returned with her car by the time Val had to leave for the Naiman house. But as she was carrying the food to his Buick, he drove up. She quickly loaded the food into her car instead and drove to Belleview Avenue.

  She arrived at Oliver’s house as Cyndi and Kevin were climbing out of a silver compact car in the driveway.

  Cyndi looked surprised to see her. “Elaine didn’t tell me you’d be here again.”

  Val wasn’t sure how to respond. She couldn’t tell from Cyndi’s tone if she resented the intrusion of any non-family member tonight or of Val in particular. “Hello, Cyndi. Hi, Kevin.”

  He smiled at her. “Nice to see you again, Val.”

  Later, when the family was in the living room and Val was cooking the rice, he came in to make drinks. “I’m glad you’re making dinner tonight. The pretzels, chips, and store-bought dip Elaine put out tells you how little the Naiman women care about food. I love them both, but not in the kitchen. What’s for dinner?”

  She told him as he opened a bottle of wine and poured it into glasses. He offered her one, but she declined.

  Val couldn’t hear any of the conversation from the living room until five minutes after he left the kitchen and Cyndi raised her voice.

  “What! You want an autopsy? You want Dad cut up? Are you nuts, Elaine?”

  Val couldn’t hear Elaine’s reply, but Cyndi apparently didn’t like it.

  “No,” she screamed. “I won’t allow it. I’m older than you. It’s my decision.”

  They conversed for a minute loudly enough for Val to catch their hostile tones but not their words.

  Then Cyndi yelled, “Where is the candy now?” A moment later she appeared at the doorway to the kitchen, her face a mask of fury. She marched up to Val. “You have some nerve coming in here, feeding my sister’s fantasies. You stole something from our house and gave it to the police. How dare you? You pretend to be a caterer. You’re nothing but a meddler and a troublemaker. And I’m going to make sure the people in this town know it.”

  Her sister and her husband had come up behind her during her tirade.

  Kevin put an arm around her. “Calm down, Cyndi.”

  She pointed at Val and screamed all the louder. “I’ll make sure nobody ever hires you again, you snooping nutjob!”

  Kevin hustled her out of kitchen.

  Elaine spoke through compressed lips. “I’m sorry, Val. You’d better go. Cyndi’s grieving and out of control.”

  Val calmed herself long enough to pack the casserole and take the rice off the burner. She hurried to the car, realized she’d left the dessert, and drove off instead of going back for it. Two blocks away she pulled to the curb, shaking too much to drive.

  She took deep breaths. Was it fair to say she’d stolen the chocolates? She had put the box in a bag even before telling his daughter it should go to the police. But Elaine had welcomed the idea, possibly because Val had fed her fantasies, as Cyndi had said. Or had Elaine anticipated Cyndi’s response and brought in Val to bear the brunt of it?

  Val rubbed her throbbing head. Despite her good intentions, she’d added to the burdens of a family already in sorrow. Now she’d have to live with the consequences. If Cyndi made good on her threat, Val would lose income she and Granddad needed to maintain the old Victorian house. There was only one thing that could justify her interference—proof that Oliver had been poisoned with those chocolates.

  When she stopped trembling, she drove the short distance home, pulled into the driveway, and went to the side door. She was startled to see her friend Bethany there.

  “You can’t come in!” Bethany said. “You weren’t supposed to be here until eight.”

  An explanation occurred to Val. “Are you helping Granddad wrap my Christmas gift?”

  “I wish. He lured Iska here. I’m part of his cover story. You’ll spoil it if you come in. She just arrived a few minutes ago.”

  Val now had an explanation for Granddad’s secretive phone calls. “My grandfather called you and roped you into this, didn’t he?”

  Bethany could handle a classroom full of six-year-olds without losing her cool, but tonight she looked jittery. “I don’t mind helping him.”

  But for some reason Granddad thought Val would mind. She didn’t dare interfere with his scheme now. “I’m not standing out i
n the cold. I’ll stay in the side vestibule. Leave the inside door to it open so I can hear what’s going on in the sitting room.”

  What did he have up his sleeve and how much more trouble would he get her into with the Naimans?

  Chapter 14

  Val hid herself behind the partly open door between the vestibule and the living area.

  Bethany hurried back to the sitting room. “Sorry for running out. My phone vibrated and I had to take that call. Now, where were we? Oh, yes, I was telling you about my uncle’s health issues. He needs a caregiver.”

  Val had never heard of this uncle. Granddad had probably invented Bethany’s relative as a pretext for talking to Iska. No wonder Bethany was so jumpy. She wasn’t used to lying.

  Granddad said, “I’m helping Bethany interview caregivers. We’ll choose a few to meet her uncle, and he’ll decide which one to hire.”

  “Do you have any health care training, Iska?” Bethany’s question sounded rehearsed.

  “I took classes in the Philippines. I want to continue my studies here, but I have to save some money first. Does your uncle need a live-in aide or someone to come in each day?”

  “Well, um . . .”

  Val imagined Bethany shooting Granddad a panicky look, unsure of the right response to Iska’s question.

  He spoke up. “Her uncle hasn’t decided yet. What kind of experience do you have taking care of older people?”

  “I was a live-in aide for a woman who had cancer. She was older than seventy when she died. Her husband was even older and also had health problems. He did not want to live alone after she died and asked me to keep on working. I shopped, cooked, and cleaned for him. I also made sure he took his medicines and went to doctors’ appointments.”

  Like most people at a job interview, Iska was ready for a question about her experience and handled it fluently. Val was sure, though, that Granddad would throw a curveball before long.