by Mary Frame
I walk home, my thoughts buzzing. As I turn the corner by Mr. Bingel’s house, I’m stopped in my tracks.
There’s a sleek black sedan parked directly in front of Ruby’s.
My heart stops for a long second before restarting in double time. Wait, it’s not a Mercedes.
Is Ruby back? She’s not due for nearly a month.
I duck behind a hedge and peer carefully through the leaves of the bush.
It’s not Ruby. The owner of the sedan is standing on the porch, knocking at the door. The tall figure is dressed in a suit, his jaw angular and familiar.
It’s Jackson Murphy, the accountant.
Crap. He never called me back after I returned his voicemail. I assumed it wasn’t important. Except now he’s here. Why is he here? What does he want? What could possibly be important enough to warrant a visit all the way to little Castle Cove?
I step out of my hiding place to find out, but I’m too late. Before I’ve made it more than a couple steps, he jogs back to the car, slides in, and pulls away.
“Were you playing hide-and-go-seek?” a little voice asks.
I jump a foot in the air. “Gary. You scared the crap out of me.” I press a hand to my chest.
His mouth drops open. “You said crap,” he whispers.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “That’s all right. Sometimes, when we’re driving with Mr. Bingel, he calls people jack rabbits.”
I nod. “It’s easy to get angry while you’re driving.”
“Do you want to play hide-and-seek with me?” His eyes are wide and innocent and I can’t possibly say no.
Thirty minutes later, I jog up the front steps to find a note taped to the front door.
Charlotte, it reads. I have business nearby, but I’ll be back in town next Saturday. Hopefully we can chat then.
It’s signed with his initials.
Saturday.
The day after the gala.
I rub my head with one hand and crumple the note with the other. I don’t have time for this. That’s less than a week away.
Chapter Sixteen
“You were right again. There was a theft at one of the shops on Main Street. Right by where Miss Viola and Mrs. Olsen saw their ninja.”
Finally.
We’re at Ruby’s and Jared is showing me how to make spaghetti.
“What happened?” I keep my eyes on the sauce I’m stirring on the stove.
“Someone stole a whole ream of jewels from Pearl, Eleanor’s aunt.” He rustles around in the fridge behind me.
“Oh, no.”
The fridge shuts. “I went and talked to everyone on Main Street after you mentioned it might be helpful, but she didn’t tell me anything was missing. Then Eleanor went over there today and . . . Apparently Pearl’s been having some cognitive difficulties. They don’t even know how long it’s been gone, if it’s actually been stolen or just misplaced.” He sighs and bends over to pull out some pots from one of the cabinets.
“That’s horrible. Poor Pearl.”
“It gets worse. One of the pieces taken was a family heirloom. Pearl must have accidently put it in the display. Eleanor is panicked. It’s supposed to be her wedding ring. It belonged to her great-great-great-grandmother or something.”
Oh, shit.
I have to get those items back to her.
I will get them back to her, and take the parents down at the same time. Win win.
“Did they find anything else? Any clues about who might have done it?” I ask, still stirring but my body half turned in his direction so I can enjoy the view.
He fills a pot with water and sets it on the stove. “Nope. Anything that might give an indication of who it was, prints, all that has been wiped away by now.”
And probably the toothpick has been moved or thrown away, too.
Dammit.
I’ll have to come up with another way to implicate them.
“Do they have an alarm or surveillance? You’d think a jewelry store with that kind of inventory . . .”
“They do, but it’s outdated. The alarm would be easy to bypass anyway, but Eleanor said Pearl hasn’t been setting it because she keeps forgetting her code. And the video recycles every twenty-four hours. We went through everything available and there’s nothing.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ll have to work tonight. The chief wants to increase patrolling in the area, just in case. Keeping an eye out for this ninja person.” He rolls his eyes. “How does the sauce look?”
“Saucy.”
He sidles up next to me and takes the spoon from my hands, stirring once before getting a small taste in the cup of the spoon. “The most important part of cooking is sampling the goods. To make sure it’s not poisonous.” He holds up the spoon, blowing on it gently before turning the sauce in my direction.
I close my lips around it and watch his neck pulse when he swallows in time with me.
“Mmmm.”
His eyes are fixed on my mouth. “Is it good?”
“Very good,” I say. “I’m never going to be able to cook as well as you can.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
My heart sinks a little. He might be here to stay, but I am not. Something must flicker in my expression, though, because he puts the spoon down and envelops me in his arms. He tugs me against his chest.
We stand there for a second, his chin on my head and my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
“You know you can trust me, right?”
He’s said these exact words before. A few times. More than a few times.
The boiling water bubbles over, making the stove hiss, and I jump in his arms.
He chuckles and then releases me, turning to the stove to turn down the heat. After he opens the package of fresh noodles and drops them into the water, he turns back and grabs my waist, pulling me against him. “Are you going to miss me while I’m working all night?”
“Maybe.” I pretend indifference.
He thwaps my butt and then turns back to the stove. “The noodles will be ready quick. Will you get the strainer?”
“Sure.” I open the cupboard and reach up for the colander, then frown as I pull it down. It feels heavy, like there’s something in it.
I set it on the counter in front of me. There’s a black velvet bag inside of the strainer.
My heart nearly stops.
My velvet bag.
The one I used to store the jewelry that I stole and planted on the parents. It’s here.
This is no coincidence.
My heart sets up a dull thud in my chest. Thankfully, Jared is still stirring the sauce, his back to me.
I can’t just grab the bag and shove it down my pants. The jangling would be too loud, and the bag would be too obvious.
Panicked, I scan the cupboard for something to mask the noise. There are a few nesting bowls on the middle shelf, fairly thick and heavy. It will have to do.
I reach up and brace myself. With one hand, I cover the jewelry bag. With the other hand, I tip the bowls back toward me. Simultaneously, I grab the jewels, shoving them into my pants while letting the bowls fall, crashing noisily onto the counter. They don’t break, but the resulting bang is enough to cover the sound of the jangling in my shorts.
“Are you okay?” Jared’s next to me almost immediately, righting the bowls now spread all over the counter.
“Yep,” I squeak and then clear my throat.
This is so not going to work.
“That scared me. I’m so clumsy today.” I laugh.
We put the bowls back up in the cupboard and I hand him the colander.
“Um, I’ll be right back. Bathroom break.” Careful not to jostle the jewels hiding in my underwear, I leave the kitchen.
When I’m out of hearing range, I run up the stairs. The only place I can think to put them is under the loose board in the floor of Ruby’s room. I check
the bag first. Everything I took is still in there.
The parents somehow put the loot back on me. And they timed it with precision.
Now what am I going to do with them? I don’t have time to put them back in the parents’ possession. I can’t keep them here. They’re probably trying to find a way to frame me, like I tried to do to them. I have to get them back to Pearl and Eleanor. But I can’t sneak back to the store either. Jared just told me they’ll be running extra patrols at night looking for the ninja. A.k.a. me.
I’ve got to take them somewhere else. Anywhere else that can’t be traced back to me. And I’ve got to do it as soon as possible, before they find a way to pin it on me.
Chapter Seventeen
One thing is certain: someone other than me has to find the jewels. And it has to be soon.
The perfect opportunity presents itself the very next night—Troy and Tabby’s birthday party.
Thank god for parties on Tuesdays.
Since it’s going to be on the beach, it should be a snap to lead someone to the jewels. The hard part is going to be hiding them to begin with, somewhere they won’t be found until I want them to be.
The party will be held near the pier, in a secluded spot that also has some picnic tables and barbeques.
When Jared calls me the afternoon of the party, I immediately volunteer to help set up chairs and hike the food and drinks down to the beach.
And Paige will be there to help me run a distraction.
I close up the shop at four, and Jared meets us at Ruby’s, his Jeep already packed with tents, sleeping bags, coolers and lanterns.
Paige is ecstatic. We’ve never camped anywhere before, let alone on the beach.
“This is going to be awesome,” she says as we’re stuffing our small bags and towels in the back of Jared’s Jeep. “Will you show me how to light a fire, like the real way without matches and stuff?”
“Sure,” Jared replies.
She continues to pepper him with questions while we get into the car and drive down to the beach.
I have the bag of jewels tightly wrapped to avoid jangling and shoved into the deep pocket of the cargo shorts I picked out this morning.
I’ll have to plant them quickly, as soon as we get there, to avoid detection. The second Jared gets too close, he’s going to feel the lump.
He parks in a small lot next to the pier and we carry items down to the beach. Jared and I take the larger items, and we have Paige carry the presents. We got funny T-shirts made for them. Troy’s says World’s Okayest Police Officer and the one for Tabby reads This is What Winners Look Like.
We set everything up in a small area with picnic tables and grass and barbeques next to a large expanse of sand leading down to the beach.
There aren’t many people around, probably because it’s a Tuesday. Just a few stragglers who are packing up for the day. Eleanor will be showing up in about an hour, after her shift at the library ends, and Ben should be here any minute to help finish getting everything ready before the birthday twins arrive.
We leave the coolers by one of the picnic tables in the shade and Jared cleans off the barbeque while he has Paige find the best, flattest spot for the tents.
I wait until he’s busy showing her how to set the tent up. “I’m going to find the bathroom,” I call out. There were a few Sani-Huts up at the parking lot, so once Jared waves to acknowledge he heard me, I head out in that direction. Once I’m out of sight, I veer toward the pier.
It should be pretty easy to lure Jared away from the party later with the excuse of making out under the stars. I need to find a spot I can easily locate later, but where no one else will find the jewels before we get there.
It’s quiet and dark under the pier. The only sound is the splash of the waves against the wooden beams and the faraway squawk of seagulls.
I scan the area, looking for a good place to lure Jared. It can’t be too damp, and it should be close, somewhere it will be natural to make out.
I pick the closest beam and pull the bag out, unwrapping it to make it as big and jangly as possible. Then I put the jewels down in the sand, right up against the wood, and cover the bag with a thin layer of sand.
That will have to do.
~*~
A few hours later, the sun is setting while the guys try to show Paige how to light a fire without matches and lighter fluid.
Key word being “try.”
Since Tabby insists no one over fifty is allowed, the party consists of Paige, Jared, Ben, Tabby, Troy, Eleanor . . . and me. And that’s it.
“There’s really no one else under fifty in town?” I ask Tabby.
“It doesn’t matter, Mrs. Olsen always crashes anyway.”
Eleanor and I laugh.
Eventually, the fire gets started with matches instead of the manly skills that weren’t working, and Tabby brings out an old boom box. Some kind of old-school disco music fills the space around the fire, along with some impromptu dancing and laughing. Ben teaches Paige how to do the hustle while Jared and Troy argue over who’s the best Boy Scout and Tabby and Eleanor make drinks.
Once darkness falls, voices approach.
“Oh, what’s going on here?” The voice is full of calculated surprise.
“Mrs. Olsen,” Tabby groans. “I told you, this is a kids-only party.”
“You are hardly a child.”
“I’m more of a child than you are.”
“Well, that’s certainly true. I just happened to be in the area.”
“Of course,” Tabby mutters.
“Why, Mrs. Olsen, fancy running into you here.” It’s Mr. Godfrey. “I was just taking a moonlit walk on the beach,” he booms.
He’s not alone.
Apparently, everyone in Castle Cove just happened to be walking out on the beach tonight, because within minutes, our little party has turned into a much bigger affair.
Tabby groans and protests and pretends to be put out, but secretly I think she loves the tradition.
It works to my advantage as well because as soon as everyone is distracted, I make it over to Jared’s side and whisper in his ear.
“I’ve always wanted to have sex on the beach.”
He goes completely still, and then his hand grips mine and we’re dashing away from the fire.
“This way,” I tug him toward the pier.
This could be so romantic. I would be more turned on if the whole thing weren’t a deception.
Giggling to mask my anxiety and guilt, I lead him over to the pier, near the beam where I hid the jewels.
Except the tide is rising.
The waves haven’t covered the spot with the jewels yet, but they’re getting close. Too close. Too close for me to use the spot as a place to get frisky. I have to think of another way.
And fast, because if I wait too much longer, they’ll be washed out to sea.
I can’t let that happen to Pearl.
And then Jared’s mouth covers mine in the darkness, his warm hands framing my face, and for a minute the jewels and everything else completely disappear.
We sink into the cool sand together, and I try to gather my wits about me, but Jared’s hands are strong and familiar. His scent envelops my senses, making the world feel suddenly like home and comfort.
He pulls back for a second, his eyes trying to see me in the darkness under the pier, where even the moon barely shines through the slats.
“I love you.” He breathes the words into me, and before I can respond, his mouth covers mine and I completely forget about the jewels and where we are and the sand getting into my clothes and everything else.
It’s not until the surge has ended and we’re both getting dressed that I have time to think about what he said. He loves me? The real me, or the fake me? Do I even know the real me? He didn’t give me a chance to say the words back. Would I have? Should I have? Is it wrong to say it, even if it’s true, if it’s said in a moment of deception? They’re all moments of deception.
Dammit, the jewels!
I walk over to the wooden post where I know the jewels are. The waves are touching the tip of the bag. I can barely make out the inky black material against the lighter-colored wet sand.
So close.
I bend over and pretend to use the water to rinse off my hands and wait. Hoping. Knowing as I know my own heartbeat that Jared will follow me here, hating myself for using him, hating that he used this moment to whisper words I’ve never heard from any man in my life.
His footsteps ruffle the sand behind me.
I turn and lean into him, kissing him while pressing him back in the direction I need him to go.
He steps back and then falters.
Gotcha.
“What . . .” He leans down and picks up the bag.
“What is that?” I ask, pulling back from him.
“I’m not sure.” He shakes it and brushes it with his hands to get the dirt off and then opens it, feeling inside. “It feels like jewelry.” His voice is bewildered.
“Jewelry? I wonder how it got out here.” I flavor my voice with astonishment.
“It’s . . . really very strange. Come on.” His voice suddenly brisk, he takes my hand and we leave the haven of the dark pier for the circle of light around the bonfire, where the party has doubled in size since we left.
Jared takes me over to one of the picnic tables, where Tabby and Eleanor are arm wrestling. He drops a quick kiss on my lips before leaving in search of Troy, presumably, the jewel bag still clasped in his hand.
A few minutes later, they’re both heading away from the beach, toward Jared’s Jeep. He’ll probably have to call it in to Anderson, who’s on duty tonight.
I try to focus at least part of my attention on Tabby and Eleanor, who are now thumb wrestling for some reason, but I can’t help but feel guilty and also a bit paranoid.
Is it all too obvious? Does Jared know, or suspect, the truth? Or some version of it?
Chapter Eighteen
The first rule of running a con is simple: don’t get too close.
I’ve already broken that rule many times over.