Chief Winters turned around. “Daisy’s very shook up, but unhurt. We got a call from Mrs. Barkley an hour ago saying there’d been a break-in in the cottage.” He pointed to the door handle, which was hanging askew. “Looks like someone used a screwdriver to take the lock apart while Daisy was asleep. So far we can’t find anything missing. He or she may have run off before they got what they wanted. We’ll send a forensics team in the morning to look for fingerprints.”
Lori went into the room and found Daisy sitting upright in bed with Mrs. Barkley next to her, handing her a steaming cup. Alvin’s mother looked small and vulnerable, and her eyes darted around the room as if she expected to still see the intruder in the room. Lori knelt next to the bed and took her hand.
“I’m so sorry that this happened to you, Daisy. Did you recognize the intruder?”
Daisy looked at Lori, her eyes still filled with fear. “No. It all happened so fast. I woke up when the intruder knocked over the table lamp and it fell to the floor. I shouted, ‘What do you want?’ and the next moment he’d disappeared out the door again. It was too dark to recognize him.”
Lori’s eyes fell on the sofa beside the door. There was no way she could leave Daisy by herself for the night. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you for the rest of the night to make sure you’re safe,” she said.
After everyone left, Lori took a blanket and settled on the couch. She listened as Daisy’s uneven breathing gradually mellowed out as she fell asleep.
Wide awake, Lori lay in the dark trying to figure out what had happened. It was doubtful that this had been a random break-in; those were almost unheard of in Fennelmoore, a small, close-knit community. The intruder must have been someone who knew Alvin had stayed there and who was looking for something very specific. Whoever it was must’ve been desperate to get what they wanted, taking the considerable risk of waking up someone asleep right there. Unless the intruder didn’t expect to find Daisy in the room…
What was intruder looking for? And had he found it before fleeing?
Lori awoke at sunrise just as Mrs. Barkley’s cock crowed loudly just outside the cottage. She looked over at the bed where Daisy lay, still fast asleep. She sat up and looked around. Strangely, the table lamp was still standing on the table, unbroken. Next to it, Alvin’s suitcase lay beside the stand she’d put it on the day Daisy moved in. The intruder hadn’t knocked the lamp over as Daisy had thought. Rather, he’d tried to open the heavy suitcase and knocked it off the stand in the process. That, and not a falling lamp was what had woken her up.
Lori tiptoed out of the room and went over to Mrs. Barkley’s kitchen. The aroma of frying eggs and onions greeted her as she stepped inside.
“Smells like omelettes in the making,” Lori said to Mrs. Barkley, who stood in front of the stove.
“Morning, Lori. Did you manage a few hours of sleep on that hard sofa? Here, let me get you a cup of coffee.”
Lori gratefully took the coffee from her. “The sofa was perfect. I’m just glad Daisy seems to have slept peacefully the rest of the night.”
“You know, that cottage was my husband’s den before he died,” Mrs. Barkley said. “It was his cave. You know, where men like to hide sometimes. I was never allowed in there. His time in the CIA had made him a secretive man. After his death, I threw out the clutter and turned it into an extra bedroom.” She laughed. “I’m sure there are still some places in there where he hid stuff that I haven’t discovered yet, even after all these years.”
Lori held two plates out for her to dish food onto, then put them on a tray along with two glasses of orange juice. “Let me take these and go see if Daisy’s awake,” she said.
Back at the cottage, Lori found Daisy already dressed and sitting at a table in the garden. She looked a little tired after the previous night’s scare but smiled when she saw the breakfast Lori was carrying.
“Ooh, that smells delicious,” she said as Lori put the tray on the table.
“Start eating without me—I won’t be a minute,” Lori said and went into the cottage.
Lori poked her head into the kitchen and briefly opened all the cupboards before going to the bathroom to wash her hands. As she did, she surveyed all corners of the bathroom. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling in dark wood paneling that had clearly been there for a long time. She knocked on the panels in a few places. At a spot behind the door, the sound became hollow, as if there was a cavity behind the paneling. Closing the bathroom door, she ran her hand down the center of the paneling and pressed. Nothing happened, but she thought she felt it give way a little. She lowered her hand and pressed again. This time she heard a soft click, and three of the panels swung open, revealing a long, upright hidden cupboard.
Outside, Lori could hear Mrs. Barkley talking to Daisy in the garden. Hopefully they’d keep each other busy for a while without missing her.
With her heart thumping wildly in her chest, Lori looked through the shelves. Most were filled with dusty old magazines. She pulled one out and struggled to contain her amusement when she saw the cover. It was an old Playboy magazine from decades ago. It looked like she’d discovered Mr. Barkley’s treasure trove of erotic magazines. She wondered what Mrs. Barkley would say if she found out about Lori’s discovery.
The only open shelf was right at the bottom, at floor level. Two old medals fell out as she felt around on the shelf, and then she grabbed onto a large object. It was a large brown envelope, and she saw it had been been put there recently as, unlike the magazines, it had no dust on it.
She carefully opened the seal and shook the contents out onto the bathroom floor. A heap of hundred-dollar bills spilled out of the envelope, as well as a bank withdrawal slip. She picked up the slip and looked at it. Alvin had withdrawn one hundred thousand dollars in cash only a few days before he’d died and hidden it here in one of old Mr. Barkley’s secret hiding places that Mrs. Barkley hadn’t discovered.
For a minute, Lori sat on the floor, wondering what to do next. Then she gathered up the money and stuffed it back into the envelope, keeping the receipt for herself. She replaced the envelope on the shelf and carefully closed the door, making sure it clicked into place. She stood back. No one would guess there was a hidden cupboard behind the panels. But there was little doubt in her mind that this was what the intruder had hoped to find—a very thick wad of cash.
Lori’s heart almost jumped out of her chest when someone knocked on the bathroom door.
She opened it and faced a strange man in a white overcoat.
“I’m sorry I disturbed you,” the man said sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure if there was anyone in here. My name is Neville Short, from police forensics. In connection with the break-in last night…?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Lori said, relieved. “I’m finished in here, so help yourself. Not that you’ll find anything, I don’t think.”
Her heart still pounding, Lori walked outside to the two ladies, who were now sauntering about the garden while chatting away merrily about the pros and cons of herbal insecticides. She composed herself before she spoke.
“I’ll be off now. You two take good care of each other.”
“Have a good day, Lori, and don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Daisy said.
“Oh, Lori!” Mrs. Barkley called after Lori as she walked away. “Is this yours?”
Lori turned and saw her neighbor holding out a black shawl. “I picked it up near the rose bushes just now and thought you may have dropped it.”
Lori looked at the shawl and shuddered. “No, it’s not mine. Maybe someone visited you dropped it.”
Mrs. Barkley looked at the shawl. “It must be then, I suppose. Should I give it to the investigator?”
Lori was lost in thought, and only answered the second time Mrs. Barkley asked the question.
“Sorry, I’m a bit distracted,” Lori said, struggling to tear her thoughts away from the cottage bathroom. “I think that’s a very, very good idea.” She sighed heavily as Mrs. Bark
ley walked away.
Chapter Twelve
Whitewood Manor was eerily quiet with everyone either working at the Wholesome or helping out with the tournament at the Misty Hills Inn. Lori was dead tired. She’d hardly slept at all the previous night, and it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep when she lay down on her bed. She slept soundly and only woke long after lunchtime, when Alvin’s phone beeped. It was a message from George.
I can’t reach you. Please join me and Kermit at The Brew @ 4 p.m., if you can.
There were three missed calls, all from George. She’d slept so soundly that she hadn’t heard the calls coming in.
Lori saw no reason to attend the meeting. Alvin’s life insurance policies had nothing to do with her. All she wanted to do right now was finish off the tournament successfully and return to her usual routine at the Wholesome.
Wondering whether she should call George and let him know she wasn’t coming, she scrolled listlessly through Alvin’s phone. That was another thing—she should give the phone to Chief Winters and let him examine it. But knowing Bob, he’d probably drop it into an evidence drawer and forget about it. He wasn’t exactly known for stellar police work.
The phone suddenly froze at a particular message, and then the screen changed. A shaky video appeared on the screen. The video broke up, but Lori thought she saw Brenda shouting at Alvin. Then the phone crashed altogether.
No amount of pressing the cell phone’s restart button succeeded in restoring the phone. Frustrated, Lori put the phone in her bag and got ready to walk to the Misty Hills Inn. There was only one Whitewood who could help her rescue the phone, and that was her nerdy cousin Rosie.
“Rosie went to the Wholesome, but she’ll be back in half an hour,” Hazel told Lori. To pass the time, Lori went into the competition hall and sat down to watch the three contestants on stage completing their puzzles. Their faces expressionless, they seemed to be solving their clues effortlessly, their pens flowing from one word to another. They must have dictionaries in their heads, Lori thought as the first contestant finished and raised his hands. Most of the words she saw were a mystery to her. What on earth did argute mean? And what did a colporteur do? Was cyanic a poison or a type of color?
She thought back on mysterious letters on Alvin’s back. She only had one clue, one word, to figure out, and she was getting nowhere. She hoped the clearwater potion would shed some light on those seven mysterious letters.
Lori was so engrossed in watching the competitions one after the other that it was ten to four already when she looked at her watch. She’d have to put off asking Rosie to revive Alvin’s phone until later that evening. She’d found the competition inspiring and exhilarating, and it had filled her with renewed energy to try and get to the bottom of Alvin’s murder. She would make George’s meeting, she decided. He had known Alvin well, it seemed, and maybe she could learn a bit more about him from George.
Lori stepped into The Brew coffee shop and smiled at the barista, Melvin, who was working at top speed to keep up with the orders he took from the line of customers at the serving counter. She mouthed the words “the usual” at him and sat down at a corner table.
She’d agreed with George Hazard to meet him and Kermit here. She’d been avoiding Kermit since Camelia’s arrest and was feeling uneasy about seeing him again.
The two of them arrived just as Melvin brought Lori’s cappuccino over to her. George looked like someone’s favorite uncle, with bushy whiskers and a kind expression on his face. Kermit followed George into The Brew, looking pale and nervous. She waved, and he came over to her table.
George greeted Lori, clipped open his briefcase and took out a file folder before sitting down. The front had the words “Parkinson/Greenstone” written on it, Lori noticed.
“Now, this is a simple matter, so I’ll be brief,” George said. “I guess I could have done this by phone too, but I wanted us to meet face-to-face, Kermit, in case you needed to see the documentation I have here.” He placed his hand on the file in front of him.
“Yes, that’s understandable,” Kermit said. “But why does she have to be here?” He looked at Lori.
“She’s a kind of witness, I guess, because what I have to say is, shall we say, controversial.”
Kermit shifted around in his seat impatiently. “As far as I understand, it’s quite straightforward. Alvin and I had identical life insurance policies. We took those out even before Alvin won the world champion title the first time. My question is, when will Alvin’s policies be paying out? When can I expect the money?”
George opened the file. “Well, that’s just the thing, Kermit. Three weeks ago Alvin came to my office and changed the beneficiary of his policy. You’re no longer the beneficiary.” George turned a few folios and pointed out a series of signatures and dates on a page. “Here, see for yourself.”
Lori watched as Kermit turned as white as a sheet.
“What? Who are the beneficiaries now?”
“I can’t tell you. Sorry, Kermit. Alvin specifically asked that I keep the beneficiary a secret.”
Kermit scowled at George. “You know, of course, George, that I’ll take this further. There’s no way this will stand up in court. We had a business agreement, and this was part of it.”
Lori thought of Kermit’s legal bodyguard he’d so prominently displayed after Camelia’s arrest. Kermit probably meant what he said.
George was steadfast. “Kermit, Flattery Insurance deals with these types of disputes every day. We make doubly sure of these details to avoid legal hassles. That’s why I came here to inform you of this in the most amicable way.”
Kermit got up. “We’ll see about that,” he said coldly and left without saying goodbye.
George shook his head. “I was expecting this to happen. I hope he reconsiders.”
“How intriguing,” Lori said. “Why would Alvin change the beneficiary in his life policy without telling Kermit? What changed so dramatically in his life?”
“I’ve known Alvin for a long time, and recently he started transforming into a different person. I think this has something to do with that,” George said.
Lori nodded, recalling her conversations with Camelia and Daisy. It seemed they weren’t the only people aware of how Alvin had been changing.
“I suppose telling me who the new beneficiary is would be out of the question,” Lori ventured, hoping that knowing that might help solve the riddle of Alvin’s death.
“I’m afraid not, Lori,” George said as he packed his paperwork away.
Lori couldn’t resist one more try. “How about his mother? She has a lot of bills to pay now.”
George shook his head and gave her a fatherly smile. “No, Alvin looked after her well in other ways. But I have a feeling you’ll soon work that out for yourself.” His eyes twinkled. “Alvin was impressed with your intelligence and resourcefulness.”
Lori sighed. “Not really. The police have a suspect in custody, but there are so many things that still don’t make sense.”
After George left, Lori sat alone at her table, staring out the window. The payout from Alvin’s life policy must surely be the money that Kermit had been waiting for. He had been going to pay Nick that way. A scary thought entered her mind. How many other people did Kermit owe? Just how desperate was he to lay his hands on Alvin’s insurance money? And did he know about the money hidden away in the cottage?
Lori waved at Melvin as she left The Brew to walk home. Tonight, hopefully, one or two clues would get filled in for her.
Lori found her granny waiting eagerly for her on the Whitewood Manor front veranda. She was smiling like a Cheshire cat.
“Guess what? Daisy had some blue jelly with her. She normally uses it for curing her migraines, but she agreed to part with a few drops we could use to prepare the clearwater.” Fae took a small blue bottle from a leather pouch she was holding. “I mixed the ingredients this afternoon, and here it is.”
“That’s great, Gran,” Lori sai
d. “I’ll have to go and say thank you to Daisy myself for helping us out.” She tried to look into the house to see if she could spot Rosie. “We’re going to try it out after dinner, yes?”
“Better not wait too long,” Fae cautioned her. “It needs to be taken as fresh as possible.”
Her granny’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Lori felt excited. Fae was in her element when she was concocting strange potions, and even more so trying them out on people like Lori.
“Fine, we’ll do it as soon as everyone’s assembled for dinner.” She looked at the leather pouch. “You’re sure this will work, Gran?”
Fae gave a cackling laugh. “Oh, it will, or my name’s no longer Fae the famous Fennelmoore witch.” And together they walked into the house.
Lori watched as Granny Fae produced the bottle of pale blue liquid out and then dug into the pouch and for a yellowed scrap of paper with a faded inscription on it. Hanging on to the paper, she handed the bottle to Lori.
“You need to put three drops of the clearwater on your tongue. Don’t swallow until I’ve said the spell,” Fae instructed Lori.
The others watched in silence as Lori took the cork top from the bottle, stuck out her tongue as far as she could and carefully dripped three droplets of clearwater onto her tongue. She closed her eyes, listening to Fae mutter an unintelligible incantation.
When Fae had finished, Lori squeezed her eyes and swallowed hard. An intense burning sensation ran down her throat.
Hazel pressed an almond cookie into Lori’s hand. “Eat this. It’ll help get rid of the taste of the potion,” she said.
“Now, let’s see if it worked,” Fae said. “Where’s that clue?”
“Here it is,” Rosie said, her hand shaking with excitement as she handed Lori a sheet of paper with the seven letters, MEEKNM, written on it. She pressed a black marker into Lori’s hand.
“Now, look at those letters for a minute, and then start writing without thinking,” Fae said. “You have to do this spontaneously. Don’t force yourself.”
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