Liz looked at it. “What’s wrong?”
“N … nothing.” Uncertainty gave the word three syllables. “It’s just that I thought I zipped my makeup case in the inside pocket.”
Liz stepped over to the suitcase. She picked up a rainbow-colored pouch resting atop a neat stack of clothing in the suitcase’s main compartment. She held it toward her cousin. “This?”
“Yeah. I grabbed a lipstick out of it this morning before we left.” The lines cleared from Debbie’s forehead. “Oh, well. I must not have put it back where I got it.” She gave a silent laugh. “Maybe the wedding jitters are getting to me after all.”
Liz tossed the bag back into the suitcase. “Probably.”
Debbie followed her across the condo’s main room. She opened the front door, and when Liz stepped into the corridor, she spoke. “Hey.”
Liz turned. Debbie leaned against the doorjamb, watching her with a sympathetic expression. “I know it must be weird for you, seeing Tim after all this time. I was half-afraid you wouldn’t come, and I’ve been praying for you like crazy. I just want you to know how much I appreciate it.”
Liz wrapped her in a hug. “Don’t talk crazy. I wouldn’t miss your wedding for anything.” Once again, she held the tears back by sheer force. This trip was proving to be even more emotional than she’d anticipated. “I love you, girl.”
When the embrace ended, Liz smiled goodbye and headed down the hall toward the condo she shared with her friends. She pulled the key from her shoulder bag, but when she fit it into the lock the door whipped open.
Jazzy stood inside. Liz started to laugh at her white raccoon mask above a terribly sunburned nose, but then she noticed her friend’s expression. Jazzy looked like she’d seen a ghost.
Alarm tickled in Liz’s belly. Had there been an accident on the slopes? “What’s wrong? Is Caitlin okay?”
“She’s fine.” Jazzy gulped, the fear in her round eyes swallowing the rest of her face. “But someone has been in our condo.”
TWELVE
An icy drop of fear slid down Liz’s spine. It was happening again.
“Would you stop saying that, Jazzy?” From across the room, Caitlin chided the petite violinist with a stern look. “You don’t know that.”
Jazzy’s dainty chin rose. “I do, too. I know the exact position I left my pajamas on my pillow. They’ve been moved at least an inch sideways.”
From anyone else, that statement would have made Liz laugh. But Jazzy was a neat freak, the most fastidious person Liz had ever met. Her obsession with order bordered on compulsion. If Jazzy said someone had moved her pajamas, Liz believed it.
She closed the door behind her and glanced around the condo, fearful of what she would find. But everything seemed to be in order. The couch cushions, the table lamps, the appliances on the kitchen counter, everything looked exactly as it had when she left this morning.
“Is anything missing?” she asked. Alarm shot through her. “Is my cello okay?”
She raced into the bedroom. Her cello case lay on the spare bed where she had left it this morning. Or had it been moved? Was it closer to the pillows than it had been?
The clasps on the case were firmly closed. Liz dropped her purse on the mattress and snapped them open. She let out a relieved sigh at the sight of the polished maple instrument. She lifted it gently out of its velvet lining and turned it over. Everything seemed to be fine. Both her bows were still secured in their holders, and a quick check of the accessory pocket assured her that everything—rosin, mute and endpin rest—was still there.
When she’d replaced the cello in its case, she turned in a circle, examining the room. The top dresser drawer was slightly open. Had she left it that way this morning?
Stop it! Don’t overreact.
Caitlin and Jazzy hovered in the doorway and watched as she opened each drawer to check the contents. The task didn’t take long, since she’d only brought enough clothing for a few days. Every article appeared to be in order.
“I think everything’s here,” she told her friends as she slid the last drawer shut. “If someone was in here, they didn’t steal anything.”
Caitlin folded her arms across her chest. “You two are being paranoid.” Jazzy’s expression became stubborn, and Caitlin held up a hand to forestall her protest. “I know you have some excuse to be suspicious after the break-in at Liz’s apartment and the incident in Waynesboro last year. But in this case, I think you’re overreacting. There is no real evidence that anyone has been in this condo except us. Nothing has been taken.”
“Nothing was taken from my apartment, either,” Liz reminded her.
Caitlin conceded the point with a tilt of her head. “But they trashed your place.” Her hand swept the neat room. “Obviously, that hasn’t happened here.”
Jazzy still looked stubborn. “Maybe they’ve gotten smarter.”
Laughter played around Caitlin’s lips. “You think the person who broke into Liz’s apartment in Kentucky followed us out here? He’d have to be after something pretty valuable.” Her eyes twinkled as she shifted her gaze to Liz. “Have you got the Hope Diamond hidden in your suitcase?”
The Hope Diamond. A tumbler clicked into place in Liz’s mind. “Nothing like that,” she said slowly, “but I do have my grandmother’s brooch.”
Jazzy’s eyes grew round. “Is it still here? It isn’t missing, is it?”
Liz shook her head as she crossed the room and snatched her purse off the bed. “I didn’t have a chance to bring it back upstairs before I left with Grandma and Debbie this morning. I’ve had it with me all day.”
She unzipped her purse and pulled out the silky box. Jazzy and Caitlin drew close as she opened the lid. Multicolored jewels gleamed in their golden setting.
“How much is it worth?” Jazzy asked.
Liz lifted a shoulder. “I have no idea. When Grandma gave it to me she called it a priceless heirloom.” She tilted the box so the gems sparkled in the light. “I assumed she meant priceless as in irreplaceable, because it’s been in our family for so long. She has a picture of my three-times-great grandmother wearing it on her wedding dress back in the late 1800s, along with a shot of every generation who owned it since.”
Until me. Liz let the thought go unsaid.
“So it’s over a hundred years old, right?” Caitlin shook her head. “I’m surprised you have the nerve to wear it. I’ve seen it on you several times.”
“Only when we play at weddings.” Liz allowed herself a brief and bitter smile. She was supposed to have worn it at her own wedding. “That seemed appropriate somehow.”
Jazzy peered at the brooch. “You ought to take it to that Antiques Roadshow thing.”
“I never wanted to know how much it was worth.”
She still didn’t, because she knew it wasn’t hers to keep. She’d been lucky enough to enjoy temporary possession of the heirloom, but she always knew she’d have to hand it over when Debbie and Ryan married. Because Liz was certain she had blown her only chance at marriage when she broke up with Tim.
She snapped the lid shut and closed her fingers around the box. “I’m positive the value is purely sentimental. My family isn’t poor, but we’ve never been wealthy.”
“You can’t be sure of the value unless you have it appraised.” Jazzy’s eyes narrowed. “What if whoever broke in your apartment back in December knew you’d bring it to your cousin’s wedding and followed us out here to steal it?”
Liz nodded slowly, giving in to the fearful suspicion that had lurked in the back of her mind since Caitlin mentioned the Hope Diamond. “It’s the only thing I have that anyone could possibly want. And there’s something you don’t know.” She let her gaze slide from Jazzy to Caitlin. “I just came from Debbie’s room, and she thought her makeup case had been moved while we were gone.”
Jazzy let out a noisy gasp. “We need to report this to somebody.”
“This is ridiculous.” Caitlin’s no-nonsense tone broke the tension
in the room. “For one thing, that person would have to know about the family tradition of passing along the brooch. And not only that, they’d have to know Mrs. Carmichael had given it to Liz three years ago, and that Liz would bring it with her to Utah.” She turned a stern look Liz’s way. “We’re your best friends and we didn’t even know about it. You two are letting your imaginations get the best of you.” She put a hand on her hip and faced Jazzy. “And just what would you tell the police? That someone came into our condo while we were gone and moved your pajamas an inch to the right?”
Her friend’s levelheaded logic worked on Liz’s nerves, and she felt herself beginning to relax. Caitlin was right. She and Jazzy were probably imagining things.
Even so, it wouldn’t hurt to find out the value of the brooch, would it? If it was worth more than they thought, Debbie would need to know so she could keep it secure. And it just so happened Liz had met a jeweler today. Maybe she’d run over to Mr. Cole’s place tomorrow after she went skiing with Debbie and her friends, and see what he could tell her.
In the meantime, no sense taking chances. She’d do as she’d done today and keep the thing with her. She dropped the box back into her purse and zipped it closed.
Judging from Jazzy’s stubborn expression, she wasn’t quite ready to let the subject drop.
“You know what we haven’t done?” Caitlin looped an arm through Liz’s elbow and the other through Jazzy’s. “We haven’t prayed. The Bible tells us not to be anxious. Let’s go sit on that comfortable couch and turn this over to the Lord.” She pulled them gently toward the living room.
Liz allowed herself to be swept along. Leave it to Caitlin to put everything in perspective. Jazzy’s always been an alarmist. I should remember that.
“Well, okay.” Reluctance sounded in Jazzy’s voice. Then she turned a shrewd glance on Liz. “And when we finish, Liz can fill us in on all the details about her mysterious past with Tim Richards.”
A groan escaped Liz’s throat. She should have known her friends wouldn’t let her off the hook.
“That was delicious,” Uncle Jonathan declared as they exited the restaurant that night.
Liz agreed. Grandma selected a local steak restaurant with a quiet atmosphere, perfect for a family get-together. Liz hadn’t seen Uncle Jonathan in years, and enjoyed getting to know Ryan’s parents, as well. Caitlin and Jazzy, graciously included in the dinner invitation by Grandma, answered everyone’s polite inquiries, but Liz saw them both hiding yawns as the meal progressed. Their day on the slopes was taking its toll.
“We’re going to call it a night,” Mr. Baxter told the group huddled on the sidewalk outside the restaurant.
“I’m glad we finally got to meet you, Liz. We’ve heard so much about you.” Ryan’s mother included Jazzy and Caitlin in her smile as she wrapped a wool scarf tightly around her neck against the chill. “I can’t wait to hear you girls play.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Baxter.” Liz nodded at her as she took her husband’s arm. “See you Friday night at the rehearsal.”
“I’m going home, too,” Uncle Jonathan announced as the couple walked away.
“Are you sure, Daddy?” Debbie stepped closer to Ryan, shivering in the cold winter breeze. “A bunch of us are heading over to the Java Hut. The girls are probably there now.”
“I don’t think so. Some of us have to work in the morning. But I’ll see you tomorrow night, sweetie.” Uncle Jonathan planted a kiss on Debbie’s cheek, shook Ryan’s hand and then folded Liz in a hug. “It’s good to see you again. We’ve missed you.”
Liz smiled into the face that looked so much like her father’s. “I’ve missed you, too.”
He looked at Grandma. “Mother, are you going to stay up late and party with the young people?”
“Goodness, no.” Grandma held on to her leopard-print fleece hat with one gloved hand as she shook her head. “If I drink coffee this late I’ll be awake for three days. You can drop me off at the lodge on your way out of town.”
“We’ll take you, Mrs. Carmichael.” Caitlin shot an apologetic glance toward Debbie, and then shifted it to Liz. “I’m worn out, and I think Jazzy’s asleep on her feet.”
“I am not.” But Jazzy’s eyelids drooped, and she wavered as Liz looked her way. “Okay, maybe I am a little tired. And stiff.” She arched her back. “Skiing is harder than I thought.”
“Take my advice,” Ryan told her. “Make sure you have some ibuprofen to take in the morning. You’re going to hurt in places you didn’t even know you had muscles.”
Jazzy groaned. “I think I already do.”
The four who were done for the night turned left after the Baxters and headed downhill toward their cars. Liz fell in step beside Debbie and Ryan. Multicolored lights strung in a zigzag pattern across the street twinkled overhead as they marched upward toward the espresso bar at the top of Main Street. Small trees in planters, their leaves stripped by winter, glowed with rows of tiny white lights on every bare branch, like an army of naked Christmas trees. The cold air smelled strongly of burning wood from fireplaces all over town. Tourists filled the sidewalk, laughing and talking as they walked from shop to shop.
Ryan opened the door for the Java Hut and held it as Debbie and Liz stepped inside. The place was crowded, as Liz had known it would be. On weekends, this was a favorite hangout among college students after spending a day on the slopes. Liz had been here often during her years at the U. But tonight the crowd was comprised mostly of vacationers wearing furry winter boots, turtlenecks and expensive ski jackets. Their noisy chatter warred with the hiss of the espresso machine behind a wide counter.
A waving hand drew Liz’s attention across the room. “There’s Betsy,” she told Debbie, pointing out their university friend, who was one of Debbie’s bridesmaids.
“Oh, good. They got a table in the back.” Debbie waved an acknowledgment. “And look. Patrick’s here, too.” The redheaded groomsman sat across from Betsy.
Liz and Ryan followed her as she weaved her way through the coffee sippers. Since leaving Utah, Liz had kept in touch with few of her friends from college, most of whom she’d met through her cousin. The three who huddled around the table had been among Debbie’s closest friends since high school. They all rose to greet her with hugs.
“Girl, it’s been too long,” Betsy told her as they sank back into their chairs. “I want to hear what it’s like living out there with the hillbillies. Do they really walk around barefoot and carry shotguns all the time?”
Liz laughed. “I can’t vouch for the mountain people in eastern Kentucky, but where I live nobody carries a shotgun. And we don’t have outhouses, either. Lexington is a city pretty much like Salt Lake, only smaller.”
Patrick gave her a wry smile. “Funny how people get a mind-set about a place. You’d be surprised how often out-of-state people ask me how many wives I have when they find out I’m from Utah.”
They all laughed, and Ryan left to order three cappuccinos at the counter. Across the table from Liz, Betsy’s grin circled the room. “Isn’t this fun? Just like old times.” She caught sight of something behind Liz’s head, and her eyes widened. “Uh, look who’s here.”
Probably Tim. Liz drew a steadying breath before turning in her chair. She’d already steeled herself for an evening in the chilly company of her ex-fiancé.
But the man who approached was not Tim.
Her stomach dropped to her shoes.
She whirled back around to assault Debbie with a fiery glare.
Debbie’s eyes had gone round as giant cappuccino mugs. “Honest, Liz. I had nothing to do with this.”
Searching her face for any signs of duplicity, Liz conceded that her sweet cousin wouldn’t play such a dirty trick on her, nor would Ryan. And judging by the awkward expressions the girls wore, they didn’t have anything to do with it, either. Which meant Jeremy Norville, the man who had lured her into breaking off her engagement and then dumped her a month later, had showed up on his own.
Probably to torment her.
“There’s the beautiful bride.” Jeremy’s voice boomed across the noise in the restaurant as he made his way to the table. “I saw your man fighting the crowd at the counter.”
“Hi, Jeremy.” Debbie accepted his kiss on her upturned cheek, watching Liz. “Uh, what a surprise. I figured you’d be down in the valley, working long hours on a research project or something.”
“I ought to be.” Jeremy had landed a job as a statistical researcher for the State of Utah shortly after they graduated. “But you know what they say about all work and no play.” Jeremy’s gaze slapped at Liz across the table. “Besides, I couldn’t pass up the chance to see Liz, could I?” He turned the full weight of his beseeching grin Liz’s way.
“You didn’t mind missing opportunities to see me in the past.” The words snapped out before she could stop them.
A hurt expression overtook his features. “Aw, c’mon, Lizzie. Surely you’re not still nursing a three-year-old grudge.”
She’d hated that pet name since grade school, when the kids teased her about it. She could still hear their taunts: “Lizzie Borden took an axe …” Jeremy was the only guy who had ever used it, the only one she’d let get away with it since sixth grade. But he had lost the privilege a long time ago.
“Please don’t call me that.” She spoke carefully, through gritted teeth, aware that everyone else at the table was looking awkwardly down at their coffee mugs, or staring at the table’s scratched wooden surface.
“Sure, Liz, whatever you say.” He grabbed the chair next to hers and turned it around backward to straddle it facing her. “Don’t be angry with me. We were friends. Can’t we let bygones be bygones?”
He was so close she could smell his minty breath. To her surprise, his proximity wasn’t as terrible as she’d thought it would be. Jeremy had always taken full advantage of those Irish green eyes and dark hair, and Liz could feel his charm starting to thaw the edges of her outrage.
She couldn’t hold a grudge against Jeremy for breaking up with her. She’d known, down deep, that he wasn’t after a lifetime relationship. He had never promised that. No, she realized a long time ago that the fault belonged squarely with her. She was the one who had dumped Tim for his friend. She had broken up not only her engagement, but also a longtime friendship. It was only right that Jeremy dumped her in return. A perfect example of street justice in action.
Murder in D Minor Boxed Set Page 26