by Krista Davis
“None. It wasn’t like that. He made anonymous donations through my company. I was a fund-raiser.”
Clementine closed her eyes and massaged her temples. “Is there no end to the people he hurt?”
Parker slid into a chair at the kitchen table. “Sounds like Ron.”
“I don’t get it.” I opened empty cabinets in search of tea. All I found were dried chamomile blossoms in a pickling jar. I located a Royal Stafford bone china teapot with a bold red rim and lacy gold detail. It was far more ornate than we needed, but I placed a sieve on the top anyway and filled it with chamomile. I poured boiling water over the chamomile and brought the whole contraption to the table with mugs, napkins, spoons, and a sugar bowl.
Clementine looked me straight in the eyes. “My husband was one of Ron’s associates.”
“What?” She couldn’t be serious! But she was.
“I’m sorry. What they did was horrible.” Her eyelids fluttered. “Stealing from people by promising them huge returns on their investments—I still can’t bear to think of it. I asked Dad not to say anything to anyone. You can’t imagine the guilt. But now I’ve lied to everyone I cared about. I hope you understand, Holly. I didn’t want the pain and the shame following us here.”
Parker raised an eyebrow. “Like you didn’t know what your husband was doing? Give me a break.”
Clementine threw him an ugly look. “We lived so well, but I never thought to question it. The nannies, the housekeeper, the exotic trips on private jets with Ron. Now that I look back, I don’t understand how I could have been so blind.” She studied her fingers. “I trusted my husband.”
“Your husband went to prison with Ron for the pyramid scheme?”
Clementine nodded. “I divorced him, of course. I turned everything of any value over to the feds. Everything. The house, the jewelry, the cars. It’s been a huge adjustment for the children. I didn’t think anyone would mind if I took the cats, but I had to sell some of my horses.”
“Where are the horses?” I asked. I hadn’t seen any in the barn.
“I took them over to another farmer for safekeeping. They’re grazing on his land. I couldn’t leave the house without being afraid someone would steal or harm them.” She wiped a strand of hair out of her face and winced. “I never imagined anything like this could happen. I only kept what I brought into the marriage and gifts from my parents. It’s one thing to lose your money because you make a poor investment. I know all about that from raising horses. But to steal other people’s hard-earned money! They were relying on it for their retirements, for their kids’ educations, for their dreams. And we squandered it. We even gave huge donations. Isn’t that the worst? We got credit for being soooo generous”—she closed her eyes briefly—“and it was all with other people’s money.”
Parker leaned back in his chair and watched her.
“I’m so ashamed, Holly. I didn’t want everyone in Wagtail to know. I just wanted to slink back here and lead a quiet life. Raise my children and try to recuperate. If it’s any consolation to the people they stole from, I’m broke. Flat-out, completely broke. I’m bartering with the French teacher. Riding lessons for her kids in exchange for French lessons for mine. I can barely scrabble together enough change for a couple of cans of cat food. If this weren’t farmland, we wouldn’t have anything to eat. Don’t ask me what I’m going to do come winter. I didn’t get here soon enough to plant a big garden or put up preserves this year.”
I reached for her hand. “Oh, Clementine! Don’t worry about food. We’ll take care of you.”
She grimaced. “We’re living in this big fancy house and still have all the trappings, but between Dad’s investments with Ron and the spending habits of his last wife, he’s nearly wiped out, too. We own the two most useless properties in all of Wagtail—his ex-wife’s empty store and the Wagtail Springs Hotel. There’s no money for us to make a go of either one of them, and no one is interested in buying or renting. We’re a mess, Holly.”
Parker had made himself useful by pouring tea into mugs and passing them around.
I eyed him suspiciously. “If her husband didn’t hire you, who are you, and why are you stalking Clementine?”
“Stalking is an awfully strong word for it, don’t you think?”
At exactly the same time, Clementine and I said, “No!”
“It’s common belief that your friend here has some items of great value. Namely, the frustratingly elusive ghost diamonds worth millions.”
I sucked in a deep breath. We were having tea with the enemy! “You’re here to steal them?”
Clementine leaned forward and waved both hands in the air. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t have them?”
“The story goes that mastermind Ron and his patsy, Clementine’s husband, saw the big crash of their pyramid coming and invested in a tidy nest egg that they could sell on the black market if necessary—the ghost diamonds. Except the feds can’t find them. All we know is that Clementine’s husband was heard to say that he hid them in something Clementine would never give away.”
“Holly, I swear I don’t have them. Didn’t know a thing about them, don’t know where they are. I even sold my engagement and wedding rings and gave the proceeds to the feds. But horrible people like Parker have been swarming to Wagtail in the belief that the diamonds are here. The other night I found a crazy woman in my closet who demanded I turn them over to her because her boyfriend lost all his money, and he wouldn’t marry her if he was poor. Can you imagine? Like I’d hand them over to a lunatic stranger? If I had them, I’d give them to the feds. Then she asked for my Hermès handbag. Can you believe her nerve? I gave it to her and told her the truth—she could have it if it would make her feel better, but my boys stashed their crayons in it and left it in the sun on a hot day. If it weren’t damaged, I’d have sold it and turned the cash over to the feds.”
Parker tilted his head at her. “And her clever husband knew Clementine would also turn over the diamonds. So where did he hide them? As diamonds go, they’re huge, but they’re still little bitty things that could be stashed anywhere. It’s a mystery. Unless, of course, Clemmie knows and isn’t saying.”
“Don’t call me Clemmie,” she uttered through clenched teeth.
“So you’re following her around in the hope that she’ll—what? Go to a safe-deposit box in a bank? Visit the diamonds in a hay bale?”
“There are people who want them.”
People? What did that mean? I imagined a lot of people would want them. Then his meaning dawned on me. “Someone hired you? You’re not here because you lost money?”
“Hey, I’m a private investigator, okay? It’s an honorable way to make a living.”
“Not very good at it, are you?” muttered Clementine.
“If I had made the effort, you never would have seen me tailing you. The ones you’d better worry about are the ones you don’t see.” He faced me. “I’m not doing anything wrong. May I once again point out to you that I saved Clemmie today? If you’ll pardon my saying so, you ought to be treating me like a hero right now.”
“Frightening Clementine and her children, and disrupting their lives is wrong. By the way, here’s your gun, Clementine.” I handed it to her.
Parker leaned over for a better look. “A toy?” He frowned at Clementine. “You cannot tell me your father doesn’t have guns. I know he’s a hunter. Why aren’t you carrying a real gun for protection?”
The corners of Clementine’s mouth twitched. “We sold them to pay for his trip to the dog show.”
I sucked in a deep breath and stared at Clementine. No wonder dark bags hung under her eyes. I doubted that she was getting much sleep between watching out for intruders, protecting her children and horses, and worrying about money. “If you sent the horses away, why are you out in the barn all the time?”
She whispered, �
�I’m afraid my stupid husband hid the diamonds here somewhere. He knows the one thing dad and I would never sell is this land. If I could just find them and turn them over to the feds all this terror would end. People like Parker would go away.” She released a huge sigh. “I’m beginning to think it was a huge lie perpetrated by the person who really has the diamonds. That would be the worst thing for me. The ghost diamonds have been missing for decades. There isn’t a reason in the world to think that Ron and my husband bought them. They could remain lost, and my life would be a never-ending misery, because people would think that I have them.”
Clementine opened the clip holding her hair back in an untidy mess. Masses of straight blonde hair spilled over her shoulders. She would be a natural to play Becca Wraith.
Of course! Clementine wouldn’t even need a wig. She was clipping her hair back up haphazardly when I asked casually, “Have you been staying at the Wagtail Springs Hotel, Clementine?” As soon as the words slipped out I wondered if I should have asked her privately instead of in front of Parker.
She blinked at me. “How do know that?”
Parker frowned. “When did you do that?”
I played coy. “I hear there have been quite a few sightings of Becca Wraith there lately. I saw her myself.”
Clementine licked her lips. “I went there a couple of times. Like the night I found the woman in my closet. After the bonfire. I thought the hotel might be safer. Out here, no one would hear our screams.”
Parker slumped in his chair and chuckled. “I can’t believe it. Clementine is nothing if not a creature of habit. Every day at five in the afternoon, she locks up tight. I never dreamed she might be slipping out after dark.”
“Because monsters like you are lurking outside. I have to lock my doors behind me when I step outside for anything. Otherwise people walk in and snoop around.”
They were getting off the subject. “So after the woman broke in—”
“She didn’t so much break in as walk in unnoticed. I guess she wandered through the house.”
It was a pretty big place. “You threw her out and went to the hotel?”
“Right. Why are you questioning me? There’s nothing wrong or illegal about it. My dad owns the Wagtail Springs Hotel.”
I had to tread carefully. “I’m not suggesting you did anything wrong. You were there the night Mallory was murdered?”
“Murdered? Doc told me her death was an accident,” said Clementine.
“I’m not so sure about that. You were so close! Didn’t you see anything? Did you hear anyone scream or argue outside?”
“Murder? Are you sure?” Clementine pressed her hand against her forehead. “I thought she was drunk and fell into the water. Holly, she’s the woman I found in my closet.”
I sat back in my chair, stunned. “The one who said her boyfriend lost all his money?” She must have meant Mark.
“That’s the one. I’m just horrified that someone killed her.” Clementine’s chest heaved with each breath. She coiled her fingers into fists. “I couldn’t sleep, of course. Most of the night I paced. You know, worried about money, and Parker, and people breaking into the house because I wasn’t there. It was really pretty quiet that night. I don’t recall a scream. Maybe a few boisterous voices when the bars closed, but nothing worrisome.” She held up a finger. “I do remember seeing someone run by. I thought he might be looking for a dog or something.”
“Would you recognize him?”
She held her palms up. “It was dark. He was nothing but a shadow. Could have been a woman, for that matter. The only thing I remember was a distinctive gait. It was awkward. Maybe an old person, or someone who wasn’t used to running. Like his feet or legs hurt.”
That didn’t sound like anyone I could think of. “You need to tell Dave when he gets here.”
The diamonds put a whole new slant on Mallory’s death. What if another diamond hunter had killed her? I turned to Parker. “What about you, Mr. Nosy Pants? Where were you that night?”
“I grabbed a bite at the barbecue place and then I went back to the inn.” He studied his hands for a moment. “If you must know, I took a long, hot bath.”
I couldn’t help but grin at the thought of macho Parker indulging in a bath. “With bubbles, I hope?”
“Hey. I’ve been standing around in the cold watching Clemmie. A guy’s allowed to warm up, you know. My room has one of those old-fashioned claw-foot soaking tubs.”
“Stop calling me Clemmie!”
Unless I was mistaken, Parker seemed to have formed a fondness for Clementine. What if he was lying? Or worse, what if he killed Mallory so he wouldn’t have competition in the search for the missing ghost diamonds?
I must have looked at him funny, because he asked, “What? May I remind you that I saved Clemmie? What would have happened if I hadn’t been here? Huh?” His eyes narrowed. “What I don’t understand is why that guy wanted to kill Clementine. If she’s gone, no one will find the ghost diamonds.”
Twenty-eight
“Did he say anything to you?” asked Parker.
Clementine winced and gently massaged her throat, but shook her head. “Not a word. Did you get a good look at him?”
“There wasn’t much to see,” said Parker. “A guy in black wearing a beagle mask.”
Clementine gasped. “A beagle? Are you serious? That changes everything.”
“You mean because your dad breeds beagles?” I asked.
“Too odd to be a coincidence, isn’t it?” Clementine’s brow furrowed.
Trixie barked, and a moment later when someone knocked on the door, we all jumped.
“It’s Dave, Clementine,” he called from outside.
I rose to open the door.
Dave entered, clearly surprised to see Parker.
“I want you to come stay at the inn, Clementine,” I said. “There’s safety in numbers.”
“I can’t. They’ll ransack the house. It’s all we have left. I’m not leaving.”
Dave sat down at the table. “Suppose you tell me what happened?”
I had other ideas. Now that Dave was with Clementine and Parker, she’d be okay. I hoped so anyway. I said good-bye, called Trixie, and hurried back to the inn.
I hadn’t had a moment to open a bank account, but I had a nice little wad of cash stashed in my quarters. I retrieved it as fast as I could. With any luck, Mr. Huckle would still be at the inn.
Trixie on my heels, I ran down the stairs and into the dining area. Mr. Huckle was just getting ready to leave. I asked him to wait a moment and dodged into the inn kitchen. “Any leftovers today?” I asked.
The cook pointed at a stack of containers. “I was about to put them in the fridge.”
“Thank you.” I could barely carry them. Nevertheless, I stopped by the pantry where we kept a stash of cat and dog foods on hand for people who preferred to feed their babies what they were used to eating. I nabbed a few cans of the food I had seen Clementine buying for her cats and staggered out to Mr. Huckle. “Would you please take these to Clementine?”
I helped him carry them to his golf cart and then I dug in my pocket and handed him the wad of cash. “Stop by the store to pick up whatever Clementine needs. She won’t take it if she thinks it’s from me, so tell her that her dad sent money or something.”
Mr. Huckle planted a kiss on my cheek. “You’re just like your grandmother, bless you both.”
I dashed back to the inn and asked Oma and Zelda, “Anyone know where Holmes might be? He said he would be helping Rose.”
Oma grinned so wide that I had to add, “It’s nothing romantic, okay?”
“Ach. Too bad. I think he is with Rose on the front porch. Tonight is trick-or-treating night for canines, felines, and children in Wagtail. Does Trixie want to go with Gingersnap?”
Trixie’s ears perked up at the so
und of her name.
Zelda laughed. “Trixie would love to go. She says she’ll do anything for treats.”
Yeah. Like we didn’t already know that.
I barged out to the porch where Holmes was helping Rose organize for the trick-or-treating event.
Placing a gentle hand on Holmes’s arm, I spoke softly so other people wouldn’t hear and be alarmed. “Someone attacked Clementine in her barn. She’s afraid to leave the house and refuses to come to the inn. Would you mind staying at her place tonight? I know she’d appreciate it.”
Rose shuffled over. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Clementine, Grandma,” said Holmes. “Someone attacked her. Is she okay?”
“She’ll be fine. But she’s unnerved. And for good reason.”
Rose gasped. “What’s going on in Wagtail?”
“I’ll round up some of the guys, and we’ll keep watch over our Clementine. Nobody messes with her.”
Rose whispered. “Do you think there’s a connection to Mallory’s death?”
I was stunned that Rose had begun to have second thoughts about Doc’s theory that the death was accidental. I decided to honor Clementine’s wishes to keep her business private. If she wanted Holmes to know, she could tell him herself. She probably would. “I don’t know. Dave is with her now.”
“Grandma, have you got everything under control?” asked Holmes.
“My goodness, yes. You go right on and help Clementine.”
“I’ll be here if Rose needs a hand.”
“Thanks for telling me about this, Holly. It’s good to have you back in Wagtail.” He bounded off the porch in two giant steps and took off running along the sidewalk.
“Wish I could say the same,” I murmured.
Rose overheard me. “Me, too. He’s not going to be happy with that prissy fiancée of his. I can’t tell him anything, though. Who am I? Just his granny. Why would I know anything about love or life?” She flashed me a little wink. “Don’t you give up on him.”