Holiday Heist: A Humorous Romantic Mystery (A Celebrity Mystery Book 2)

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Holiday Heist: A Humorous Romantic Mystery (A Celebrity Mystery Book 2) Page 4

by Zanna Mackenzie


  I fidget to the edge of the sofa and cross my legs. “What do you make of Vincent?”

  She laughs delicately and then shakes her head. “Vincent, I’m afraid to say, is a rogue and a flirt, but I don’t believe he’s a thief if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Can you think of anybody who would have cause to steal the necklace?” Jack turns back from the window. “Any other relatives who feel it should rightfully belong to them?”

  “No, definitely not,” she replies, sliding her hands along her skirt as though removing none existent creases.

  Great. Things are going nowhere fast.

  Fifteen minutes later we find ourselves in Barbara’s room, the next suspect to be interviewed.

  “I suppose you’re wondering why Arabella and I are at loggerheads,” she says, perched on the edge of the bed. “Well, that’s an easy one to answer. She always had more of a bond with my mother than with me. My mother was an actress, and Arabella wanted to be just like her when she grew up. I’d seen the heartache that being in the industry caused and I desperately wanted to protect Arabella from it, but she was determined to go against me every step of the way.”

  “You and your own mother didn’t get along either then, I take it?” I check.

  “No. Work was always her priority. She had no time for me. It didn’t lead to the strongest of mother-daughter relationships as you can imagine.”

  Jack gets to his feet and wanders around the room. I presume he’s looking for something, for evidence, though I have no idea what. “It’s Mrs. Saunders, right?

  She nods.

  “What happened to your husband? Why isn’t he a part of this festive family holiday?” he asks.

  “We divorced years ago. He remarried a while back.” She lifts a hand to her hair, checking it’s still perfectly in place. “He doesn’t have anything to do with Arabella or Hannah.”

  “Is this hotel gathering a regular occurrence?” I ask. “Do you normally get together somewhere to celebrate Christmas?”

  “This is the first Christmas since my mother passed away, so we thought we should do something different this year.”

  “Hence the hotel,” Jack says.

  Barbara nods. “I suspect guilt plays its part too,” she adds, looking uncomfortable. “Arabella feels guilt for going against me. Guilt for the upheaval and heartache she’s caused. That’s why she employs Hannah as her personal assistant. She provides work for her sister and it lessens the family guilt. Arabella always worried that she’d inherited the necklace and their grandma left nothing to Hannah. Arabella always was the favourite, and my mother didn’t bother to hide it. I know that guilt is also the reason Arabella’s letting me stay with her at the moment at her place in London. My own house suffered water damage when a pipe burst, you see, so I had to move out for repairs.”

  “How long ago did Arabella inherit the necklace?” I double check.

  “Seven months ago,” she replies.

  “And how long has she been with Vincent?” Jack checks.

  “About six months,” she says.

  Hmm… coincidence?

  “Is Hannah involved with anyone?” Jack chips in.

  “No, not that I’m aware of, and believe me, I know all about my daughters. I’m protective of them. I love them, regardless of what you might think. I am still their mother. I just want what’s best for them.”

  “Of course you do,” I smile.

  Jack ends his tour of the room and stops next to the door. “Where were you this afternoon?”

  Barbara visibly stiffens at his question. “I took a walk around the grounds and then visited the spa for a manicure and pedicure with Hannah.”

  My eyes meet Jack’s. Hannah definitely didn’t mention anything earlier about a trip to the spa with her mother.

  Next stop is the hotel’s staff room. Gerald has arranged for us to meet the head of housekeeping, who just happens to be the woman with responsibility for cleaning Arabella’s room. He’s also informed us that the head of housekeeping would not have access to keys to the safes in the hotel bedrooms. Only the duty manger would have that. The manager this afternoon was Gerald himself. Unfortunately for me, the head of housekeeping is also the woman who chastised me earlier for touching the Christmas tree in the hotel’s entrance hall.

  The hotel’s staffroom is the total opposite of the public areas. It’s neat and clean, but that’s where the similarities end. Whereas the hotel is stylish and opulent, this area is more basic and practical.

  Margaret – the woman of the fierce look - sits at the table in the middle of the staff kitchen and fiddles nervously with her fingers.

  Jack wastes no time, coming straight in with the questioning. “When did you last clean Ms Saunders room?”

  “This morning. Ms Saunders had just gone to the hotel’s spa with that chap of hers. Reception told housekeeping the room was free, and I went straight up to clean the room whilst I wouldn’t be in the way. We have a system. First, the bathroom and then…”

  “Did Ms Saunders leave any possessions lying around in the room? On the bed? The dressing table?” Jack cuts in.

  “Of course. They arrived yesterday and had made themselves at home, like most guests do.”

  “Did you take any notice of what those items were?” I encourage her.

  She glowers at me, but nods. I suspect I’m not quite forgiven for the Christmas tree bauble incident. “There was a beautiful red dress hanging on the outside of the wardrobe. I assumed she’d chosen it to wear at dinner.”

  “Anything else?” Jack prompts.

  “I have a job to do and don’t go nosing around guest’s possessions,” she replies, looking offended.

  “We’re not suggesting that you do,” I reassure her. “But if you can just take a moment to think if anything caught your eye other than the dress, we’d appreciate it.”

  She stares at her hands, and we all sit in silence.

  Eventually, she replies, “No, nothing.”

  Jack rests his elbows on the table and eyes her uncertainly. “You’re sure? No jewellery on the dressing table?”

  She shakes her head, an adamant expression on her face. “I just saw the dress.”

  “We only have her word for it that the necklace wasn’t around when she cleaned the room,” Jack says as we make our way back towards the public areas of the hotel.

  “You think she’s lying?”

  “Probably not. She doesn’t exactly come across as a jewel thief, does she?” he says, holding the door open for me to follow him into the hotel’s reception area.

  “And what does a jewel thief look like?”

  “Not a grandma nearing retirement from a chambermaid job she’s done for years.”

  “You never know,” I reply. “Appearances can be deceptive.”

  “Mt Mathis! Mr Mathis!”

  We both turn to see Gerald scuttling towards us. He glances round, spots two other hotel guests, and clutches Jack’s arm, ushering us both towards his office out of earshot. Once inside, he closes the door behind us. “The necklace has been found!”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Where?” I gasp.

  “In a locker in the spa,” Gerald replies, relief evident on his face. “So that means the case is solved.”

  Yay! Christmas Day dinner, here we come.

  “Not really,” Jack retorts. “There’s still the question of how it travelled from Ms Saunders bedroom to the spa without her knowledge or consent.”

  Oh. So the case isn’t solved then. My eyes seek out the clock on the office wall. The evening is creeping towards night and soon it will be midnight and officially Christmas Day. Maybe I won’t need to rush to finish the snowflake truffles when I get home – because it will be too late and our family Christmas Day dinner won’t happen.

  “Who found it in the locker?” Jack asks, and I can see the passion in his gorgeous blue eyes. He loves his work. When we first met, he promised he would clear my name of the murder of celebrit
y chef Armand, my old boss. He said he’d never failed to solve a case and catch a killer, thief or stalker. That still holds true now he’s ditched the agency and gone self-employed. He won’t give up until this investigation is complete.

  “As it is Christmas Eve, the spa was closing early and wouldn’t be opening tomorrow. Safety and security dictates the spa’s duty manager ensures all lockers are empty before close of business. That’s when she found the necklace,” Gerald burbles. “It was wrapped up in a towel and placed in locker number one, nearest to the door of the female changing room.”

  Jack is already striding for the door. “We’ll need to speak to her, right away.”

  I break into a half-run again as we make our way along the corridor which links the old original hotel building with the new swimming pool and spa annexe.

  “A locker in the female changing rooms suggests our thief is a woman,” I gasp as we eventually reach the spa’s reception desk. “So it’s not Vincent?”

  “Not necessarily,” Gerald replies. “When the spa is quiet, as it was today, it would be simple enough for a man to slip inside the changing room. Especially as the locker was close to the door.”

  “I assume there are no CCTV cameras in the spa,” Jack says.

  “No, for obvious reasons of guest privacy.”

  “A member of staff would know that the lockers would be checked, so that suggests our thief doesn’t work here,” Jack says as we enter the female changing room and check the lockers, earning a look of great relief from Gerald. I guess the manager was worried one of his staff could be involved.

  “Shouldn’t we go and tell Arabella we’ve found her necklace?” I say, taking a seat on a beautifully carved oak bench in the centre of the stylish room.

  Jack surprises me by shaking his head. “Not just yet.”

  Gerald frowns. “Oh? Why not?”

  “Because whoever stole it is still around the hotel somewhere, and I don’t want them to hear that the necklace has been found. We want them to think that their plan is still on course. At some point they’re planning on coming back here to collect the necklace, and we’ll be waiting for them.”

  The prospect of hours spent crouched behind a bank of lockers flashes through my mind. I flinch.

  Jack sits down on the bench next to me. “Gerald, would you mind giving us some privacy for a minute? We need to talk case strategy.”

  Gerald nods and steps out of the room. As soon as he’s out of sight, I turn to Jack. “Are we going to have to set up camp in the ladies’ changing room? Please tell me I’m not going to have to spend Christmas night in here.”

  Jack doesn’t say anything, just plants the lightest of kisses on the tip of my nose.

  “Jack Mathis, I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to creep around me.” I sigh. “We are going to have to stay here tonight until the thief shows up, aren’t we? Do we even know who it is? Vincent seems to be in the clear. Barbara was in the spa this afternoon having some treatments. Do you think it was her? Is she seeking revenge for her mother having given the valuable necklace to Arabella, rather than to her?”

  “Could be. Don’t forget Hannah didn’t tell us about being at the spa. She said she went for a walk around the lake. It was her mother who said she was in the spa.”

  I spin round and rest my feet on the other end of the long bench. “But which one of them is lying? Barbara or Hannah?”

  “Let’s go and find out,” Jack says, getting up and reaching for my hand.

  The spa’s booking records reveal that both Barbara and Hannah enjoyed its chilled-out ambience this afternoon. Tamsin, one of the therapists, informs us that she saw the two women arguing by the pool earlier.

  “So, Hannah did lie about where she was,” I say, my mind trying various pieces of the puzzle together and finding they don’t fit.

  “Yep.” He looks thoughtful for a moment.

  “Have you got a plan?” I ask, hoping that he has.

  He nods. “Yeah. I think so. Let’s try something.”

  I dash after Jack as he heads for the door. Here we go again. Back in the hotel we find Hannah in the bar with Vincent. Arabella and Barbara are nowhere to be seen.

  Interesting.

  Taking her to one side, well away from Vincent and the other hotel guests enjoying a festive drink, Jack informs Hannah that the necklace has been found.

  Hannah’s eyes flicker with something I can’t quite pin down. Is it relief or concern?

  “We know you stole it and hid it in the spa, but you hadn’t bargained on the lockers being checked at the end of the day, had you?” he says, leaning in close, intimidating her. “You know, if you’re going to steal something you really should think things through properly. Oh, and remember to wear gloves, we found your fingerprints all over the item,” he pauses and tuts. “Well, you were careless, weren’t you? Not to mention the hidden CCTV cameras which captured the whole thing. Why did you do it? The police are on their way right now. Sorry, but there’ll be no fancy Roseby Christmas dinner for you.”

  What is he doing? Does he really think Hannah stole the necklace or is he playing some kind of game with her? Is he calling her bluff? Trying to panic her into a confession? The manager said there weren’t any CCTV cameras in the spa, and we certainly didn’t take any fingerprints. I glance at Hannah, and now I know what the look in her eyes is – she’s terrified.

  “They made me do it!” The words burst out of her and several pairs of eyes in the bar swivel in our direction.

  Bingo! A confession!

  Vincent gets to his feet and walks towards us. “Is something wrong?” he asks, looking first at Hannah, then Jack, and finally me.

  Is Vincent hearing about the necklace a part of Jack’s plan?

  “Everything is fine.” Jack slips a hand onto Hannah’s shoulder. “We just needed a quiet word with Hannah, that’s all.”

  Vincent frowns, whether it’s out of concern for Hannah or anxiety for his own safety, I can’t tell.

  We usher Hannah out of the bar, and I can feel Vincent’s eyes following us every step of the way. Gerald lets us use the office behind reception. Once we’re inside and the door closed behind us, Jack says, “Come on, Hannah, and let’s have the truth this time, shall we?”

  She slumps into a chair and covers her face with her hands. “I didn’t want to do it. I had no choice. I was told the safe’s combination and the time the room would be empty and to put the necklace in a certain locker at the spa and then leave the key at a designated spot.”

  Is she telling the truth this time though? Was she made to steal the necklace? If so, by who?

  “I was being blackmailed,” she continues, gulping for breath. “They have compromising images of my sister and Vincent. She would have been mortified, her reputation in tatters if they had come out and been bandied all over the newspapers and the Internet. My own career would have been ruined as well. If Arabella doesn’t work, neither do I. I did it to protect us both. There was no choice.”

  “You said they made you do it. Do you have any idea who?” Jack demands.

  Hannah shakes her head, her eyes downcast. “I don’t know. I received a letter and copies of a few of the photos. It said I’d get further instructions. I’ve never even spoken to anybody. My instructions have been letters in the mail or, here at hotel, notes pushed under my door. That’s how they’ve communicated with me.”

  “So, it’s somebody with access to the hotel, spa and grounds,” I say. “The person is here, somewhere, but how do we track them down?”

  “They’re planning on collecting the necklace from the spa. That’s how we find them,” Jack says decisively. “Now, where did you have to leave the key, Hannah? Whoever is behind all of this shouldn’t have heard the necklace has been found in the locker and is still planning on turning up to retrieve the key, then the necklace. They’re also still banking on you keeping quiet about this whole thing. We just have to catch them in the act.”

  I crouch down
in front of her. “Where’s the key, Hannah? Where did they tell you to leave it?”

  She flicks anxious eyes at me. “Outside, in some bushes. There’s a garden area at the side of the spa. The largest bush, right in the centre, that’s where they told me to leave the key.”

  “We have no idea what time, or even what day, they’re planning on collecting the key and taking the necklace,” Jack says, pacing the room.

  Wonderful. That could mean days hiding in the hotel’s landscaped gardens, in the snow and freezing temperatures, waiting for somebody to show up.

  Bye ‘bye Christmas.

  Ten minutes later, lurking in the undergrowth, I wish I’d thought to put on something more sensible than my fashion boots and wool dress. I was so caught up in a fangirl moment at the prospect of meeting Arabella, and all excited about getting to see inside the glamorous Roseby, that I didn’t contemplate the practical side of our challenge – i.e. the possibility of hanging around outside in the snow in the middle of the night. The sound of church bells drifts across the lake, breaking into my thoughts as well as the stillness of the night. Bells mean it is midnight; they’re heralding the arrival of Christmas Day. I glance over at Jack, crouched next to me. He looks apologetic.

  “Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, guilt etched on to his handsome face.

  I force a half-smile. “Merry Christmas.”

  Jack leans across and plants the sweetest of kisses on my lips. For a few moments I forget where we are and kiss him right back.

  Then I get a shooting cramp in my leg from being half-standing and half-crouched for so long. I yank away from him and leap to my feet, doing a bit of a weird dance in the snow as I try to stamp my foot and relieve the clawing spasms. Jack grabs me, lifting a finger to my lips, indicating I need to be quieter. Yes, I know that, but my leg hurts and I’m cold and… frustration bubbles up in me. This was not how I pictured our Christmas Day together starting.

  I sigh, calm down, and lean against the trunk of a tree. I’m no good at this surveillance stuff. For starters, I’m not the most patient person in the world. Plus, it’s finger-numbingly cold. Oh, and it’s Christmas Day!

 

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