“Oh, for God’s sake. I don’t think so,” said Rose shaking her head. “Come on, what’s next?”
“The desk had two secret drawers that were almost impossible to find. I only knew where they were because the woman I bought it from showed me. Worthington bought it because of the secret compartments. He liked his little puzzles.
“Well, when it came up at the estate auction, I bought it. I had a buyer I thought would be interested and knew I could make a nice profit.
“Of course, I went through the thing when I got it to the shop. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I opened that drawer and saw that diamond staring up at me. I knew what it was right away. I had always suspected Worthington was the one who stole it from the Historical Society.”
“So why didn’t you just return it to the Society right away?” asked Rose.
Marc looked out the window, away from the three of them. “I intended to. In fact, I had arranged for a courier to take it to Baltimore. But I thought it over and decided I had better take it up there myself. I couldn’t go right away and then I got to thinking.
“I guess I’m a little of ashamed of this, but after all I’m a businessman. I figured there had to be some way I could make some money on the deal. I thought there must be some kind of finder’s fee or the insurance company might have offered a reward. I wanted time to figure out the best way to handle it.
“So I had it in my pocket when I stopped by that day you were putting up the Christmas lights. I was on my way to the bank to put it in my safety deposit box, but I got this really fantastic idea for a great Christmas party. I knew you liked mysteries, Daisy. I thought, ‘Daisy would love this, a Christmas mystery. With a treasure hunt.’”
“With a million dollar diamond as the centerpiece? You are totally nuts, not to mention completely irresponsible!” Daisy said in exasperation.
“I don’t know. I still think it would have been fun. When I got back to my shop, I wrote the letter and hid the stuff in the door. I was going to hide a couple more clues and invite everyone for mystery dinner party on Christmas Eve. Hey, I’ll bet that’s why I etched that note into the wood. I was already thinking about leaving it as a clue somewhere.
“Of course, I wasn’t planning on getting stabbed and hit on the head. I had no idea anyone else would have be looking for the diamond. I didn’t know anything about Hazel being this Audrey Milstead or about Worthington’s journal. Luckily though, everything worked out okay, didn’t it?”
Daisy studied him with his day old stubble and sexy blue eyes which even an hour ago still made her heart race a bit. But at that moment, her heart wasn’t so much racing, as poking along regretfully. She sighed as the last of the love-light faded from her eyes.
She looked at Marc and said, “Sure. If by worked out okay, you mean we weren’t all murdered, I guess so. But you took an awful chance with something that didn’t belong to you.”
“Yes, I did. I’m sorry. Sorry that you and Rose and Angela were all put at risk. What can I do to fix it?”
“Not a whole lot. The pendant has to be returned. It belongs to history, not to you or Worthington.” Daisy looked at Angela admiring herself in the mirror. “Not to you, either, Mother,” she laughed.
“Oh, honey, of course it’s not. I just like to watch it sparkle.” She took it off and put it in her purse.
Rose said, “To your earlier question, no the police don’t know anything about the pendant. We kind of left that out of our story. So we’ll just return it to the Museum and that will be that.” Marc looked relieved, but even now a little disappointed.
“Are you all right going home alone? Would you like to stay with us for a couple of days until you’re back on your feet?”
“Thanks, but I think I’m okay. I could use a ride home tomorrow, though.”
“We’d love to,” said Angela. “I’m so glad you’re back among the living. We were very worried about you. This is a wonderful Christmas present. You’ll come to my house for Christmas day, won’t you?”
Marc smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Thank you.” Rose and Angela kissed him good-bye and left. Daisy stood there trying to think of what to say.
Marc started. “Daisy, I’m really sorry. It was a stupid thing to do. I’ve always been like a little kid when it comes to beautiful old things. I just want to keep all to myself.”
He looked at her and said, “This changes things for us, doesn’t it? I can see it in your eyes.”
“Yes. I’ve already been married to one man who can’t seem to grow up. I really don’t need another.”
“Are we still friends?”
She smiled. “You bet.” She bent over, kissed his cheek and left.
Chapter Fifteen
They met Bill Greene as they were leaving the hospital. “I see you got the word that Proctor’s come to.”
“Of course. The hospital called first thing this morning,” answered Daisy. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”
“It will be if he can tell me what the hell happened.”
Rose said, “We all know what happened. Hazel spilled it all to Daisy. And she told you everything that Hazel said.”
“Well, I still need to see what Proctor has to say for himself. I want to know why that woman attacked him.”
“Because she’s nuts. I thought that was obvious.”
“Even crazy people have some sort of reason for what they do. And she can’t tell me a thing. She’s completely gibbering.”
“Then you should have felt right at home,” said Daisy. “How is your own little gibbering lunatic? Stalking anyone lately? Any more poison pen letters? I would think talking to Hazel would be like a breath of fresh air.”
Bill looked at Daisy and shook his head. “You know, Daisy, you never did make it easy.”
“Bill, don’t even go there. I wasn’t the one who decided to try someone a little stupider. I didn’t fool around behind your back.
“And actually, I did make it easy, didn’t I? I trusted you. Don’t go overboard talking to Marc. Remember that he’s the victim.”
They were almost home when Daisy said, “Uh, oh. I just had a thought. It’s all very well and good for us to return the diamond and act like we never knew anything about it, but what if Bill finds Worthington’s journal? You know the police are searching Hazel’s house and the book store.
“Hazel said everything’s in that journal. How Worthington stole the diamond and where he hid it. When the diamond’s returned you know Bill will guess that Marc probably found it and that was why Hazel attacked him. And he’ll certainly guess we were in on it. But if he finds the journal, he might be able to prove it. We could be in big trouble.”
“I don’t care,” said Rose. “The diamond has to go back. I don’t want that thing sitting around. It attracts trouble!” She held her hand out to Angela and said, “Hand it over. It’s going in my safe deposit box until we figure out how to return it.”
Daisy said, “You’re right. It’s going back. I just wish I knew what Hazel did with that journal.”
Christmas morning Rose pulled on her coat and grabbed Malcolm’s leash. “I’m taking Malcolm for a quick walk before we go to Mother’s.”
“Have fun. I’ll be ready when you get back,” answered Daisy.
“Come on, little guy. We’re going for a walk, but just a short one. Mother wants us there by noon.” Rose opened the door and Malcolm took the lead trotting along toward the bridge. As they were passing Hazel’s he started barking.
“It’s all right, Malcolm. Hazel’s in the loony bin. She can’t hurt anyone again.” Rose knelt down to ruffle his head. As soon as she loosened her hold on the leash, he was off into the back yard of Book Renew.
“Malcolm, get back here you idiot. No humping on Christmas. It’s rude. Come back here.” She started around the fence to the gate, but Malcolm was already on his way back. He was prancing along quite proudly carrying something in his mouth.
“What have you been doing?
You’re a mess.” Malcolm was covered with dirt. “You’ve been digging, haven’t you? What did you find?” He dropped his find at her feet. Rose picked it up and smiled. “Malcolm, you really are quite a dog!”
Angela smiled as she looked at her girls standing around the tree - Rose, Daisy, and Marigold, her baby, with shining chestnut hair and sparkling green eyes. “My garden,” she thought. “Aren’t they beautiful!”
The redecorating was finished and all the house’s vibes were in harmony again. Angela’s heart was filled with pure joy. It had been a year since they had all been together.
“I can’t believe everything that’s happened to you,” said Mari. “It sounds like something right out of a mystery movie of the week.”
Rose picked up Roscoe the cat, now the cat in residence at Champagne Taste, and said, “It does, doesn’t it. But every word is true. If Roscoe could talk, I’ll bet he could tell us even more secrets. Like who came into Hazel’s attic that night right after we got out. That’s been bothering me.”
“Oh, I know who. I found out at our little Christmas soiree the other night,” said Daisy.
“Well, who was it?”
“Mary Newhart. Someone said she was celebrating at the party. Well, she was. Hazel is really quite a piece of work.
“Mary told me, in rather drunken confidence, of course, so this can go no further, that Hazel had a picture of her that she prefer her husband never see. I didn’t ask Mary what it was of, but I can guess. She’s been pretty friendly with Seth Morris lately.”
“The guy who bought The Old Mews last summer?” asked Rose.
“Yep! At any rate, she didn’t tell me what was in the picture, just that Hazel sort of held it over her. And that she went into her attic looking for it late the other night.”
“Did she find it?”
“She said she did.”
Rose shook her head and laughed, “Oh my, who’d have guessed Old Towne hid so many secrets?” Roscoe walked over and started weaving through Daisy’s legs.
Daisy looked at the cat and said, “There’s one other secret I’d like to know. Where did Hazel hide Worthington’s journal?” She picked up the cat, “Roscoe, I’ll bet you know, don’t you? I’m just waiting for Bill to knock on the door to arrest me. He’d just love that.”
“Not to worry,” answered Rose. “Malcolm has a present for you.” She pulled a brown leather book out of her purse and handed it to Daisy. “He ran into Book Renew’s back yard this morning and came back covered in dirt bearing a gift.”
“I don’t believe it! It’s Worthington’s journal! How did he find it?” Daisy cried.
“Beats me. Maybe he’s psychic. Now that we’ve got it, what do we do with it?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t think we should destroy it. It’s sort of history. But I really don’t want Bill to find it. At least not for a very long time.”
Mari was paging through the journal. “How about this? We read it, of course, and then put it in a safety deposit box for, say, twenty years. Then we’ll send it to the historical society anonymously and let them figure it out.”
“Works for me,” said Daisy.
“Me, too,” added Rose. She raised her glass, “Twenty years it is!”
Mari’s husband, Matt, was pouring champagne for a toast. Dinner was ready and Marc, Mari and Angela were at the table. Roscoe was purring loudly perched on the back of the couch.
Angela called. “Come on, girls. Soup’s on. And where’s Malcolm? We can’t toast Christmas without the hero of the day.”
“He’s right here, Mother,” said Rose. Malcolm trotted in followed by Daisy who had something white and furry in her arms. “Merry Christmas, Mother. As luck would have it, Malcolm has a brother who was free to a good home, too. We think yours would be about the best. Mother, meet Percy.”
“Oh, my goodness, what a cutie.” She reached for Percy, but he leapt out of Daisy’s arms. In the blink of an eye, he jumped on Roscoe and started humping away. Roscoe hissed, slid out from under and leaped to the top of the bookcase.
Without missing a beat Percy glided off the couch and continued his ritual on the unsuspecting Christmas gnome who was guarding the tree. Malcolm looked on with the benevolent air of teacher who has done his job well.
“Oh, look at Malcolm. He’s so proud of his little brother,” laughed Angela. She picked him up and they watched the Christmas afternoon scene together. Percy happily humping. Angela’s girls happily downing champagne.
Angela and Malcolm looked at each other and smiled.
On a sunny morning in early January a woman walked into the Maryland Historical Society Museum. She was unrecognizable in a heavy parka, gloves, muffler almost covering her lower face, furry hat and sunglasses. She approached the woman at the admissions counter and said, “I have a donation for the museum. Could you please ask the Chief Steward if I could see her for a few minutes?”
The woman picked up the phone, spoke quietly for a moment and said, “She’ll be right with you.” Shortly, an elegantly dressed middle-aged woman walked into the hall and said, “I’m Margaret Ray, the Chief Steward. Can I help you?”
Angela Forrest handed her a box wrapped in gold paper and tied with green ribbon and said, “I was asked to give this to you.” Then she turned and left the museum.
The steward looked puzzled as she took the box over to the counter. A card was attached that read, ‘What once was lost, now is found. Merry Christmas.’
The steward looked questioningly at the receptionist, “What do you think?”
“I don’t know. Should we call the police? It could be a bomb or something.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. It’s rather light. Let’s just see what it is.” She undid the wrapping and opened the box. They both let out astonished gasps as the Maryland Fleur de Lis glinted brilliantly in the sunlight streaming through the window.
THE END
Author Bio
Penny Clover Petersen grew up in the Washington DC area with her brother and four sisters.
Penny lives with her husband Tom in Bowie, Maryland. As a stay-at-home mother she also held a series of part-time jobs while raising their children.
When she’s not writing, she enjoys time with her children, grandchildren and large extended family. She likes to travel, refurbish old furniture, and collect family stories and recipes for the ‘family cookbook.’
She loves historic homes and is a docent at Riversdale Mansion in Riverdale, MD.
Roses and Daisies and Death Oh My! Page 18