“And so, with all that . . . I managed to pose enough questions to the DA implying Andrews’s possible involvement. . . that . . . he will be investigated, too.”
“Brilliant.”
“It’s not enough to charge anyone with at this point, but it does show the DA that there’s a lot more to it than an open-and-shut case against Serena and that it does warrant further investigating. He feels that with the new evidence uncovered, it sounds like it goes deeper than a merchant’s petty squabble. And there you have it.” He shrugged.
“Well, that’s the best news I’ve had all week. I’m so relieved.”
“I’m glad you went to Blain’s office with me. Without your keen eyes, it might have been a while until we uncovered the hidden chamber, and by then, who knows where Serena would have been.”
“You would have found it. You’re a great cop.”
“You’re forgetting that the investigating team had already processed the scene and I went out of curiosity after vowing not to get involved. So, no, if you hadn’t had me questio—”
She pressed her finger to her lips. “Shhh, we just made a good team today.” She smiled and dropped a pod into the coffee maker. Marc hovered beside her, fidgeting with his coffee cup as hers brewed. It was clear to her that there was something else he wanted to talk to her about. “Well, are you going to tell me?”
“Am I going to tell you what?”
“What else is on your mind?”
He took a sip and placed his cup on the counter. “You picked up on that, did you?”
She grinned at him and winked.
“Well, I was talking to Serena, and . . . it’s just that she doesn’t have many close friends.”
Addie grimaced and shook her head. “She really is a character. I find it hard to believe she has so few friends.”
“It’s her own doing. She’s very particular about who she lets past her walls.”
“That’s sad.”
“It’s her choice. The only person she was ever really close to left town abruptly without a word to her, and it really hurt her. So until she knows a person better, she keeps most at a safe distance. But she does think of you as a friend now, and . . . well . . . she cares about you and what happens to you.”
“Even with all that’s happened to her in the past two days?” Addie’s brow knit. “I’m the last person she should be worried about, but she’s amazing and has been to me since the moment we met. So what are you getting at?”
“Well, it’s because she does care.”
Addie nodded. “And . . .”
“She told me about the black car.” He cringed. “And . . . please know she feels really bad about breaking your confidence and hopes you’ll still be friends, because she was sick about it when she discovered that I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know what?” Addie felt a shiver race up her spine.
“Well, through one of her interrogations she let it slip that . . . it seems you’ve had more run-ins with it than you have told me about—like the first day you opened your shop?” His brow raised, his eyes locked on hers.
Addie bit her lip. “It’s just that black sedans are so common, and . . . well, I’d already been so much trouble.”
“You haven’t asked for any of this, and we need to get to the bottom of it. Anything would be a lead right now.”
“I know.” She leaned on the counter. “It’s just that I’m new in town, and people are already seeing me as a troublemaker. I don’t want you to think that, too.” She looked up at him. “It’s probably nothing; maybe a prank to chase me off. Serena said Blain Fielding felt threatened by me. Maybe it was him and he just wanted to scare me away.”
“I knew Blain my whole life. He could be an ass, but I don’t think he would have resorted to anything so threatening.”
Addie drummed her fingers on the counter, gnawing on her bottom lip.
“You have a tell, you know.” Marc smirked, taking a sip of his coffee.
“A what?”
“A tell. It’s something people do as a reaction to something else, and it gives away how they’re really feeling no matter how hard they try to hide it.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Like a twitch of the eye or cheek when they lie or are trying to hide something.”
“It’s only been a few days, but I’ve already noticed that Serena’s freckles pop out whenever she’s feeling the least bit flustered or embarrassed or excited about something but tries to hide it?”
“Exactly. That’s a tell.”
“I didn’t know I had one, too. What is it?”
“You bite your lip when you’re upset or thinking.”
“I do not.”
Marc chuckled and shook his head. “Yes, you do.”
“Interesting. You’re pretty observant.”
“It goes with the job.” He took another sip, keeping his eyes on hers.
“I guess I shouldn’t play poker with you, then?” She held his gaze.
He laughed. “No, probably not, but it might make it interesting, ’cause I suspect you are pretty observant, too.”
“Well, I have noticed one thing.”
His jaw tensed. “What’s that?”
“Exactly what you just did.” She beamed at him. “When you’re trying to hide your true thoughts or feelings about something, your jaw tightens. Like you’re gnashing your teeth together so you don’t say anything.”
His eyes widened, and she saw by the strangled look in them that he was fighting the impulse to clench his jaw, but then he broke out in laughter instead.
“See?” She pointed at him, chuckling. “You do, don’t you? Admit it.”
He shook his head, his face flushed.
“And you can tell Serena not to worry. We’re still friends. It’s just her brother that I’m not sure about.” She stuck out her tongue teasingly, dodging his half-hearted swat at her arm.
Chapter Fourteen
Addie nearly danced into her house that evening. She hummed while she flipped on the foyer lights and made her way from room to room, snapping on light switches. When she got to the kitchen, she sucked in a deep breath—until the security system was installed she wouldn’t be able to completely relax—and was relieved to see the door was tightly closed.
She put a kettle on to prepare a cup of an herbal tea that Serena had given her to try. It was supposed to help with relaxation at bedtime, and after the day she’d had, she knew she’d need it. And of course, she thought as she smiled, a nice long soak in her beloved claw-foot tub wouldn’t hurt either. While she waited for the water to boil, she started her laptop. She still hadn’t heard from Jeremy and decided that if there was nothing tonight, she’d call the library during the day to make sure he was okay. When her emails loaded, there wasn’t one from him, but another one caught her eye.
Dear Ms. Greyborne,
I would like to take this opportunity to congratulate you and thank you once again for the outstanding contribution you made to the acquisitions department during your work exchange here at the British Museum. As you know, the book you discovered in the stacks was a very rare and valuable piece and one we are most happy to have in our possession, so it is with great pleasure I am writing to inform you of an exciting opportunity that has become available. As we understand, you are no longer in the employment of the Boston Public Library. It is our hope that I might convince you to consider working with me on a contract basis as a museum representative in retrieving lost and stolen manuscripts believed to be presently located in the United States.
I will be in your area in a few weeks and hope that we may discuss this opportunity at that time. I arrive in Greyborne Harbor on the 24th and have arranged lodgings at the Grey Gull Inn for two nights. It is my hope to meet with you at your earliest convenience upon my arrival.
I look forward to speaking with you again.
Kindest Regards,
Roger Moore
Stunned by the offer, Addie reread the
email, grabbed her tea and headed upstairs. She couldn’t believe it. The curator of the Antiquarian Books Acquisitions Department of the British Museum was actually offering her a position to assist him in retrieving books for them? She only worked there for six months and didn’t even know him that well, and besides, they had trained teams of specialists on their payroll already who did just that. So why offer her a contract? She shrugged shaking her head.
Roger’s odd request would have to wait. Right now, her skin prickled at the anticipation of soaking in the deep claw-foot bathtub. The banging pipes were the only slight annoyance as she lit her favorite candle, placed her teacup on the chair beside the tub, and lowered herself into the bubbly bathwater. Warmth rushed through her, and it didn’t take long for the music pumping through her earbuds to lull her into a total state of relaxation. She jerked with a start when her chin dropped into the now-frigid bathwater. She shivered and took out the earbuds, setting them next to her phone on the chair. It had been a long time since she’d relaxed enough to drift off in the bath, and judging by how cold the water had become, she must have slept for a while.
She stepped out onto the bath mat and rubbed the soft cotton towel over her goose bump–riddled skin. The ceiling above her head creaked. It was followed by the sound of a dull thud. She froze and strained to listen, but the rush of blood moving from her pounding heart into her ears drowned out all other sounds. She held her breath and swallowed hard, trying to relieve the lump growing in the back of her throat, while reaching for her cell phone.
The old clock downstairs in the study began to chime. She jumped. Her phone slipped from her fingers and skidded across the damp wooden floor. She crawled on hands and knees to retrieve it, counting out the number of chimes. There were nine before the house went quiet again. A loud thud downstairs sent prickles across her skin. She leapt to her feet, grabbed her pink silk robe hanging from the back of the bathroom door, and slipped the hook latch into the eye hole. She wasn’t sure how secure it would be for keeping an intruder out. This was an old house, and the glass doorknobs had never been fitted with proper locks, but that was all she had right now between them and her.
Legs wobbling, she made her way back to the side of the tub and sat down. Fingers trembling, she pressed Marc’s number. Her breaths came short and fast, and her head spun. She put it between her knees and waited for him to pick up. “Marc, where are you?” She gnashed her teeth. Finally, an out-of-breath voice answered. “Marc,” she whispered. “It’s Addie. I think there’s someone in my house. I’m upstairs locked in the bathroom.”
“Stay there. We’re on our way. And don’t hang up the phone.”
“I won’t,” she whispered. She heard rustling sounds in the background, and his voice shouting orders, then an echo over what sounded like a police radio. Then all went quiet and stayed quiet. “Marc, are you still there?” No answer, but she could still make out muffled background noise and knew the connection hadn’t been lost.
The minutes ticked by, and terror snaked its way up her spine. Finally, his voice crackled through the speaker, and she took a deep breath, not aware she’d even been holding it.
“Can you make it downstairs to open the front door? Don’t worry, we’ve got the house surrounded, and there’s no sign of a break-in.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I think it’s safe for you to open the front door. Just be quiet about it.”
She clenched her fists at her sides and took a deep breath, grabbed her curling iron from the countertop, and brandished it over her head as she tiptoed downstairs in the dark and unbolted the front door.
The door flung opened. Marc pulled her out into the cold evening air. Goose bumps erupted over her skin beneath her light robe. Another officer placed his arm around her shivering shoulders, ushered her to a warm cruiser, and then joined the others inside. Marc eventually came out, got into the driver’s seat, and glanced sideways at her, but didn’t say anything.
She drew her thin robe close around her throat. “What did you find?” Her lip quivered.
He looked at her and took her hands in his. “There’s no sign of forced entry—not the windows, the doors, nothing.”
Her eyes widened. “Nothing? It was just my silly imagination?”
He shook his head. “No, unless your idea of good housekeeping is throwing stuff on the floor. There’s no question that someone was in your house tonight.”
Marc accompanied Addie through her inspection of each of the twenty-three rooms, plus the three large ones in the attic. He took notes as she commented on the contents of the drawers or cupboards that had been rifled through. As far as she could tell, nothing appeared to be missing, but to be sure, she’d double-check with the lawyer in the morning, since he had a full inventory, completed prior to her taking over the estate. If anything of value was missing, it would be on his list. When they finished the inspection, Marc had her go back to his cruiser to wait for him while he got reports from the officers still on the scene.
She was grateful that before they had started the arduous task, he’d escorted her to her bedroom and stood guard outside while she changed into a pair of jeans and a warm sweater, but as she sat alone now in his patrol car, she was freezing. Numb from head to toe, she replayed Marc’s words—“no forced entry”—over and over in her mind.
He slid into the seat beside her and handed her a steaming cup. With trembling fingers, she grasped it and took a sip. It was coffee, and it burned as it trickled down the back of her throat, but she didn’t care. It was good to feel something right now.
“I know you’re upset and tired, but I have to ask you a few more questions. Are you up to it?”
She nodded and took another sip. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I needed this coffee though, thanks.”
He nodded. “Me, too.” He clinked his cup to hers. “Well, it’s clear to me that our room by room inspection determined the whole house was searched. Do you have any idea what the intruder or intruders were looking for?”
“No, it’s like the last times. Nothing seems to be missing, which makes me suspect that they’re looking for something specific and think I have it.”
“Any idea what that might be?”
“None. If antiques or books were missing, then we’d have a clue they were looking for valuables, but with nothing standing out as having been taken . . . it just doesn’t make sense. Unless . . . it isn’t a robbery attempt, but a scare tactic to try and run me off?”
“I doubt that. This goes beyond someone trying to put a scare into you. No, it’s definitely someone looking for something.” He flopped his head back onto the headrest and closed his eyes. “Next big question is . . . who else has keys to your house?”
Addie shook her head. “No one I can think of.”
“What about the lawyer, Raymond James?”
“No, when he gave me the keys, he said it was the only set and advised I get copies made.”
Marc sat up and looked at her. “Did you?”
“No, I haven’t had time.” She swirled her coffee cup.
“Well, so much for that theory.” He leaned his head back again.
“Serena?”
“No.”
“Brian?”
“No, he didn’t replace the lock—he said we’d do that when they installed the new security system.”
Marc sucked in a deep breath and forced it out through puffed-up cheeks. “Well, I’m at a loss.”
“Me, too.” She gnawed on her bottom lip.
“Stop it.” He playfully nudged her arm.
She laughed. “Sorry—habit, I guess.”
Addie’s attention was drawn to the stream of officers going in and out her front door. She rested her forehead on the cool window glass and closed her eyes, lost in her thoughts.
Marc patted her knee. “You look beat.”
“I’m okay. They should be finished soon anyway, shouldn’t they?”
“No, it’ll probably take most of the night—lo
ts of area to sweep for prints.”
Her shoulders slumped.
“Besides, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here until the security system’s in place. Someone definitely used a key to get in.”
“I’ve racked my brain and I don’t know of anyone. Unless . . . ?” Her eyes narrowed.
“Unless what—or should I say who?”
“What do you know about Catherine Lewis?”
“Catherine? Why would she have a key?”
“I’m not saying she does, but she stopped by my shop and introduced herself. It was really weird. She said something about meeting me when I was little and how happy she was to see me again in person, all grown up.”
“Did you meet her in Boston sometime?”
“Not as far as I know, but she made it sound like it was here, and she said her mother and my aunt had been good friends.”
“They were, if I remember correctly. What’s weird about that?”
“Nothing, now that I say it out loud, I guess. It was just a feeling I had at the time.”
Addie pulled her key ring out of her pocket and turned it over in her hands, trying to get a mental picture of who might have a copy. “If they were close friends, wouldn’t it stand to reason her mother might have a key? You know, in case of emergencies or something? People do that with friends.”
He took a sip of coffee and rubbed his neck. “Well, yes they do, and your aunt was old and living on her own, so maybe her mother, Ruth, did have a key. But why would Catherine be breaking in and ransacking the house or the store? She’s a nice lady and well respected in the community.”
“Maybe she thinks there’s something of her mother’s here, and she wants to get it back?”
“Then why wouldn’t she just ask you for it? No, I’m not even going to investigate that one.” He shook his head.
“I don’t know; ignore me right now. I’m just tossing out possibilities.” Addie leaned her head against the glass.
“Okay.” He tossed his empty cup into a trash bag on the floor by her feet. “Time to get you checked into the hotel. Buckle up.” He started the engine.
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