Sinister Secrets

by Colleen Gleason

  He smiled, moving a hand affectionately across her shoulder, then sat back down next to her. “We waited for you to order. I hope you’re hungry.”

  “How sweet of you. Thank you, Aaron. I was hoping to have some news for you about the salon’s expansion plans, but all Emily Delton wanted to talk about was Declan Zyler.”

  “Declan Zyler? What about?” Orbra demanded, flickering a glance across the table, and all of a sudden, Leslie felt a sudden sense of disquiet…and, strangely, it grew into a sense of disappointment at Regina’s next words.

  “Oh yes, she was going on and on about how she’s been going to the football games with him to watch their daughters on the pom squad, and how he had her over the other night for a beer. The man is nice enough, I suppose, but he doesn’t really do a thing for me,” Regina said, sliding a sidewise look at her husband and smiling.

  He beamed and patted her hand. “You’re a brains over brawn kind of woman, I know.”

  “Well, he sure as hell does a thing for me,” Trib said as he placed a new beer in front of Fischer, and another in front of Underwhite. “Too bad I’m almost twenty years too old for him.”

  “Not to mention the fact that he goes the other way,” Orbra said dryly.

  Trib sighed. “A man can dream, can’t he? I keep trying to think of excuses to stop by and see him working at that forge of his. He already did that fire pit for me up at the house, but I never caught him working.” He looked up and around the restaurant. “Been thinking about adding some wrought iron accents to the place here, you know. Lots of ’em.”

  They all laughed, and Cherry said, “You let us know how that works out, Trib.”

  Regina looked up. “Hello, Trib. I’ll have my usual, if you don’t mind.” Then she spoke to the table at large. “I suppose you’ve all been discussing business before I got here? Or plans for the class reunion?” She turned back to Leslie, who was beginning to wonder if she’d ever be able to tell Cherry about the speakeasy. “Aaron is the mayor, but of course he ropes me in to a lot of special projects.” Her eyes danced, indicating that she didn’t mind it one bit. “I have an interior design practice, but I’m very involved in anything related to the town or special events here. Including the big, multiyear reunion.”

  “No, no, we weren’t actually talking business at all, Reggie,” Underwhite said. “You didn’t miss a thing.”

  “Would you all like to order, now that Madam Underwhite is here?” Trib asked, nudging her playfully from behind.

  The consensus was for the pizza with the “crack” sauce, and they ordered a vegetarian one for Cherry and Regina, and another two with a variety of toppings, and then, finally, Leslie was able to tell her story.

  “There’s a hidden room in the cellar.” She was mainly speaking to her aunt and Orbra, but the others could hear as well. “I think it was a speakeasy.”

  “A speakeasy?” Iva fairly squealed. She looked as if she were about to erupt from her chair and run to Shenstone House to see for herself. “Where? How big was it? Was there anything in it?”

  The Underwhites and Trib were listening too. (Hollis Nath had left the table to take a phone call.)

  Leslie was only too happy to fill in the details about where the entrance was and what she and Declan had found when they pulled off the patched-up piece of plasterboard. “There are bottles and glasses all over the place, and the furniture is in bad shape. But there are two oil paintings that are absolutely stunning—each of a woman wearing amazing jewelry. Though they’re portraits, the gemstones are really the focus of the picture, and as soon as I saw them, I couldn’t help but wonder whether they were paintings of the missing legendary jewels of Red Eye Sal. If they even exist.”

  “Oh, they exist all right,” Trib said. He’d pulled up a chair and spun it around, straddling it so he could rest his hands on the top of its back. “Well, at least one piece does—or did.” Regina, Underwhite, and Trib exchanged glances. “No one’s sure about whether there was a whole cache of jewels like the legend says, or just the one necklace.”

  “What did the jewels look like?” asked Orbra just as a waiter delivered two of the three pizzas they’d ordered. “The ones in the paintings, I mean.”

  “One was all sapphires. It was as if the woman was wearing a collar just dripping with them—of all different shades of blue, too, so some might have been blue topazes. They covered the top of her chest like this.” Leslie used her hands to demonstrate. “And she had matching earrings and a bracelet. It was a ridiculous number of gemstones, all set in silver—or maybe platinum. And at the bottom of the necklace, the part hanging the lowest, was—”

  “A star-shaped stone,” Cherry said. Her eyes were sparkling, just like the sapphires. “Those are definitely Red Eye Sal’s missing jewels. The star is the giveaway.”

  “That’s right. The jewelry was all made by the same designer—supposedly a woman whom Red Eye Sal loved but couldn’t have because she was married to another man. Apparently the fact that he himself was married wasn’t a factor,” Aaron Underwhite said dryly. “But the jeweler—I forget her name?” He looked at his wife.

  “Margarita, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, that was it. Margarita’s trademark was having the gemstones cut into a star shape—or she set them so closely and perfectly that they looked like one stone, as if a single jewel had been cut into a star.”

  “Either way, each piece she designed always had a six-pointed star with a sort of fat center on it. Almost like a sun. Very distinctive,” Trib said. “You said one set in the paintings was sapphires…so the other painting was of the gold topazes?”

  “No…it was garnets and rubies. What do you mean the gold topazes? It sounds as if you know about these jewels,” said Leslie.

  “Well, we all know about the topazes, that’s for sure,” Cherry said. “But I don’t know if anyone ever believed there was anything else in the so-called jewelry cache of Red Eye Sal other than the topazes, and maybe some pearls.”

  “I feel as if I’m missing half of some story that you all know. Would someone please fill me in?” Leslie asked, reaching for a piece of pizza. It was covered with fresh tomatoes, torn basil, plots of house-made mozzarella, and roasted peppers—and it smelled divine.

  The others looked at each other, and Mayor Underwhite was the one who spoke. “Since I probably know as much as anyone about it,” he said, sliding his own piece of pizza onto his plate. He served Regina as well, then settled back in his seat, preparing to tell a story.

  “The topazes were—are—the only pieces of this so-called collection that anyone ever remembers seeing. That’s why most everyone believes it was nothing more than a legend that Red Eye Sal had other pieces in his cache. There was a set of earrings—both star-shaped and gold—and a necklace, though it was much less grand than the one you described, Leslie. And there were some pearls, with mother of pearl star shapes as well—which is probably what launched the idea of the legend, even though no one that I know of has ever seen any others. But two sets of jewelry, both with stars…you can see where the romantic idea came from.” He paused as if to collect his thoughts, using a knife and fork to cut a generous piece from the point of his pizza. “And, if those paintings you say you saw are accurate, then it seems as if it might not just be a legend after all.”

  “The topazes and pearls were owned by the van Gerste family, who I think were distant relatives of Sal,” Regina said. “Or somehow had a connection; I’m not sure, because they never owned Shenstone House. We knew their daughter, Kristen.” Her voice had become sober. “We were in the same year at school.”

  “Is she the one who… Oh, I’d forgotten about that,” Iva said in an almost whisper. “That was…what…1985? Just a year after I moved to Philadelphia.”

  Trib was nodding. “Yes. 1985. The year we graduated.” He glanced at Leslie. “Kristen was in our class. She was a beautiful young woman, with dark hair and amber-colored eyes. Smart, too—not valedictorian smart; that was Aaron
here—but she had a respectable grade point. Very popular with her classmates—pretty much all of us liked her. Homecoming queen, cheerleader, class president—you know the drill.” He paused, seeming to collect his thoughts.

  “Kristen got permission from her parents to wear the Red Eye Sal topazes to our senior prom,” Regina said. “It was a big deal—her parents were wealthy, and she always had nice clothes and expensive shoes, but the fact that she was going to wear these heirloom jewels to the prom was a really big deal.” Her voice trailed off. “I knew Kristen quite well. We weren’t absolute BFFs or anything like that, but we were in the same group of friends. I played basketball and ran track, she played tennis and was a cheerleader. And we lived near each other—Kristen, Aaron, Trib, and I. Though the van Gerstes’ house—and Aaron’s too—was a lot larger and fancier than mine or Trib’s.” She smiled fondly at her husband.

  “Kristen was dating the captain of the football team,” Aaron said, taking up the story. “Marcus Levin. That’s only relevant because of how the night played out. Prom night, I mean.”

  “The night she was wearing the topazes,” Leslie said.

  “Right. Kristen was a trendsetter,” Trib said. “So when she got permission to wear the jewels, she decided to go all the way and do a vintage look. Vintage clothing was just becoming the thing in the eighties, and she found this gorgeous beaded flapper dress at an antiques market. I still remember it…she looked like an angel in that sparkling gown. It was pearlescent, iridescent, all shimmery gold and pink and peach…” He sighed, his eyes going dreamy and faraway.

  “Anyway,” Underwhite said, drawing the conversation back to him, “she wore the dress and topazes to the prom, with Marcus Levin as her date. But they had a huge blowout fight near the end of the night—it was a complete spectacle, right in the middle of the dance floor.

  “They were playing ‘Waiting for a Girl Like You’—I’ll never forget it: that song was the theme for the prom, and the queen and king had just been crowned. They were supposed to dance together first, then the rest of their court was to join in, couple by couple—and it all went to hell,” Regina said. “No one was dancing, Kristen was screaming awful things at Marcus while he stood there laughing at her, and then she left. Walked out, crying, and left the prom, all by herself.

  “The high school isn’t far from our neighborhood—only two miles or so. You can see it from Shenstone House, actually. It’s just beyond the woods that butts up to the bottom of your hill and goes along Faraday Street. Oh, and Kristen’s family never owned Shenstone,” Underwhite added for Leslie’s benefit, “which is another reason people didn’t believe there are jewels belonging to Red Eye Sal hidden there.”

  “I tried to go with Kristen, to talk to her,” Regina said quietly. “But she didn’t want anyone around, and my date…well, he encouraged me to let her leave by herself if that was what she wanted. I did make him take me home then, and we looked for her on the way to give her a ride, but we didn’t see her. No one did.” When Leslie glanced at Underwhite, Regina said, “Oh, it wasn’t Aaron who talked me out of going after her. It wasn’t until later that I realized what a great guy he was.”

  “A damned sight nicer than Colter Bray,” Underwhite commented, shaking his head. “I would have sent you after Kristen if you’d been my date.” He looked at Leslie, giving a wry smile. “I didn’t have a chance with the likes of Regina Clemons when we were in school. I was an acne-faced nerd, and that was long before nerds and geeks were made cool by The Big Bang Theory.” He laughed, and Regina laughed with him and patted his hand.

  “Anyway, that big fight broke up the dance,” Trib said. “The blowout between the most popular and well-liked girl in the school and her asshole of a boyfriend. No one liked Marcus Levin unless he was on the football field. Or running by in shorts,” he muttered. “And no one really knew what the fight was about.”

  “So Kristen left the dance by herself, wearing the topazes, upset and angry and crying…and she was never seen alive again,” Underwhite said, finishing off the tale.

  Leslie, who’d been expecting an unpleasant end to the story, frowned. “Did they determine what happened?”

  After a moment, Regina spoke. “Late the next day, they found her body in the woods not far from the main road between the school and town. The topazes were gone.”

  “They think it was a robbery, plain and simple,” said Underwhite. “She was still fully clothed and had died from a broken neck. There was evidence of a blow to the back of the head, too—we all followed the story, of course; I remember it like it was yesterday.” He reached over and covered Regina’s hand with his own. “We all liked Kristen. It was so awful.”

  “So they never caught anyone?” Leslie asked.

  “No. And the topazes never showed up anywhere either—they must have been removed from their settings and sold separately, or are hidden away in someone’s safe,” said Trib.

  After a few moments of everyone quietly eating, Orbra spoke. “So now that you’ve found those paintings, there is evidence that there actually were other jewels in Red Eye Sal’s collection.”

  “I wonder if they’re hidden in that secret room,” Iva said just as Hollis slid back into his chair next to her. He murmured an apology, and dove into the pizza. “Or if there are other secret rooms in the house. I really do need to come over and look, Leslie. Will you be home tomorrow? Can I come by?”

  “I’ll be there all day—except I think I’m being dragged—er, taken to—the football game at the high school tomorrow night.” Leslie grinned at Cherry.

  “What’s this about secret rooms?” Hollis asked, then sighed with satisfaction as he enjoyed his pizza. “Hardly ever get to eat like this at home.”

  “Only two pieces, darling,” Iva reminded him. “You know what the doctor said about your cholesterol.”

  “Right.” Hollis rolled his eyes at her. “Where is this secret room you found, Leslie?”

  “It’s under the main stairway in the foyer. Probably the people coming to the speakeasy would walk right in the front door and then head below through the secret doorway. You have to kind of duck your head and climb down—it’s not much more than a hole in the floor that leads to a spiral staircase.”

  “Did you have to take the staircase apart to get to it? How did you even know to do that?” Underwhite asked.

  “No, Declan just pulled away a section of the wall at about the midsection of the stairs.”

  “Oooh…what was Declan doing at your house?” asked Trib with a wicked smile.

  “He’s restoring the wrought iron stairway—the one in the front foyer.”

  “That’s a big job,” Regina said, looking at Leslie with raised brows. “And an expensive one. I hope you don’t need him to replace the whole thing—surely it would be thousands of dollars. Remember when I was working with Bayley Brothers on the remodel at Kendall Street, darling? We had wrought iron work done there, but that was before Declan Zyler moved back to town. It was very pricey.”

  “Yes, but the railing is old, and of course Leslie doesn’t want to take the chance anyone could get injured,” Cherry said.

  “And in order to keep my historical home designation, it has to be restored in the original manner. So, yes, it will be expensive. Maybe I’ll find the missing jewels and that will pay for it,” Leslie said with a chuckle.

  As the others joined in, John Fischer spoke up: “Well, I for one would like to see this secret room. If you’re giving tours to others”—he nodded toward Iva—“can you count me in? Sounds like a great idea for a book.” He gave Leslie a subtle wink—as if everyone at the table hadn’t figured out he was a writer—and selected another slice of pizza.

  “Sure. Why don’t you come over at eleven tomorrow morning? Anyone else?” she asked, half laughing as she looked around the table.

  “I’d love to, sweetie, but I’ll be here mixing up my crack pizza sauce. With its five secret ingredients,” said Trib with a wicked smile. “For sure anot
her time.”

  The Underwhites demurred, as well as Orbra (“Lunchtime’s busy, you know”), and Cherry groused that she had to teach a Pilates class at noon.

  “You can come over tonight and look,” Leslie suggested to her aunt. “It’s only nine o’clock.”

  “Not tonight—remember, you said you’d help me move those display cabinets at the studio?” Cherry said. “Or now that you found an exciting secret room, maybe you don’t have time for your auntie anymore.” She pretended to pout.

  “Right. Sorry. I forgot you turn into a pumpkin at nine.”

  “If you got up at four-thirty so you could teach yoga at six, you wouldn’t make fun,” Cherry told her.

  “I have no idea why you need an hour and a half to get ready in the morning,” Leslie said. Ever since she’d left the corporate world, she’d happily slept in till at least seven and spent less than a half-hour showering, dressing, and doing her hair—a great improvement over the ninety minutes she used to take to blow out her hair and do her makeup, and dress in pressed suits and Italian pumps every morning.

  She was never going back to that world.

  “We’ll be over tomorrow at eleven,” said Iva, standing as Hollis tossed a couple of twenties onto the table. “But speaking of tuning into pumpkins…I’m about there myself. Good night, all.”

  The dinner party broke up rapidly after that, and Leslie walked with Cherry out the door of Trib’s and across the almost deserted main street, down the block, then around the corner to her second-floor yoga studio. It took a little less than an hour to move the display cabinets that held books, tees, yoga pants, and fitness accessories—and for her to fill in a few more details about the speakeasy and Declan Zyler.

  “I wouldn’t let what Reggie said about Emily Delton stop you,” Cherry said as she locked up the studio.

  “What are you talking about?”