Red Julie (An Olivia Miller Mystery Book 2)

by J A Whiting

  She flicked the lamp switch and the light blazed. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Olivia stared at the lamp and stepped away from the table. I always leave it on when I go out. Did I turn it on before I left?

  Olivia rushed to the backdoor and checked that it was locked. She turned on the kitchen overhead light. She looked at the lamp. Her hands shook. Did someone turn it off while I was out? Was Alexei in here?

  Chapter 14

  Olivia didn’t sleep all night. She sat up in the living room chair with every light in the house blazing. She was at Joe’s door at 6am. She told him about Esme’s concerns and about finding Alexei in her backyard. Joe was angry and threatened to go to the Siderovs’ house to have a talk with “the fool” but Olivia calmed him down.

  “He’s probably harmless,” Joe said, “but it shows very poor judgment on his part. He’s a guy you should steer clear of. Sounds like he has problems.”

  Joe and Olivia concluded that she had probably just forgotten to turn the kitchen table lamp on when she left for the party. Joe scolded her for not coming directly to his house last night after seeing something in her backyard. He decided he would install a security system in Olivia’s house and some motion detection lights around the perimeter of her property so that no one could lurk in the shadows.

  “I’ll start the work this afternoon,” Joe told Olivia. “I’ll be leaving some tools in your garage. Don’t run over them when you pull in.”

  Olivia was grateful and said she would feel a lot more secure with the alarm system in place. As for Esme’s concerns about Magdalene, Joe and Olivia weren’t sure what to make of it all and decided it would be best if they both kept alert for any news about her that wasn’t above board.

  “I always liked the Callas family,” Joe said. “They’re good people. Something would have to be done if Magdalene threatened Mrs. Callas in some way.”

  Olivia and Joe considered that because of her poor health and advanced age, Mrs. Callas may have misinterpreted some things that the real estate broker said to her. Still, they decided that they would keep alert to the possibility that Magdalene may be desperate enough to do anything.

  “Could she be behind Aggie’s and Martin Andersen’s deaths?” Olivia revealed her fears to Joe. “Could the cross necklace belong to her? You know how she loves jewelry, the more expensive the better. Could the “S” on the back stand for “Streeter”? Could she have killed them with the hopes that it would be easier to get their houses if they were dead?”

  Joe rubbed his face.

  “Did Aggie and Martin suspect her?” Olivia continued. “Did they know each other? Is that how my name and address and picture got into Martin’s wallet? Did Magdalene Streeter kill them?” Tears welled in Olivia’s eyes.

  Joe reached across his kitchen table and took her hand. He didn’t have any answers.

  ***

  Olivia drove to Boston even though she was feeling exhausted. She didn’t want to sit around and brood. She had to do something to figure things out and she hoped speaking with Martin Andersen’s secretary would shed some light – any light - on the goings on.

  Olivia found the building housing Andersen Financial not far from Boston’s Beacon Hill area. She took the elevator to the tenth floor and the doors opened directly into the reception area of office suites. The décor was understated modern with walls of glass, polished wood floors, and a stainless and glass reception desk. Abstract artwork hung on the walls in muted yellows, blues and browns. The reception area seating included soft leather chocolate sofas and chairs. The effect was one of wealth, luxury and confidence, and Olivia thought that if she had any money to invest she would feel very comfortable with this company’s advice. The woman behind the desk was wearing a white blouse and navy jacket with a necklace of blue and rose beads. Her hair was light brown parted on the side and cut into a neat bob. She smiled and asked, “May I help you?”

  “Yes.” Olivia stepped to the front of the desk. “I’m Olivia Miller. I have an appointment to meet with Paula Adams.”

  The receptionist indicated one of the brown sofas. “She’ll just be a moment.”

  Olivia sat and picked up a copy of Forbes magazine and flipped through the pages.

  “Olivia?” Olivia almost dropped the magazine, surprised at how quickly and quietly the woman appeared. A short, strong looking woman with silver gray hair stood before her. She was dressed in black pants and a red cardigan. “I’m Paula Adams.” The woman extended her hand and led Olivia to Martin Andersen’s office. It was decorated almost exactly as the reception area with the exception of more whites, grays and blacks in the color scheme. The two women sat opposite each other in matching white club chairs.

  “I’ve worked for Martin for over twenty years,” the secretary told Olivia. “I really can’t believe he’s gone and won’t be coming right through that door.”

  Olivia nodded. “I understand,” she said, thinking of Aggie.

  “I heard that you were with him at the end. I was glad to hear he wasn’t alone.”

  Olivia nodded again. “Mr. Hannigan suggested that I speak with you about Mr. Andersen’s last business trip. My aunt lived in Ogunquit too and she died the night before Mr. Andersen left for London. Then Mr. Andersen is killed the same night he returns to Ogunquit from overseas.”

  “Was your aunt’s death suspicious?” Paula asked.

  “I feel that it was, but the official reason given was a heart attack,” Olivia said. “The two deaths within a month of each other seem suspicious to me. I wonder if there is some link between my aunt and Martin. And the violence of Martin’s death - well, that never happens in our small town. I don’t believe that it was random. There has to be a reason behind it.”

  “How can I help?” Paula asked.

  “I’m not sure, but I was wondering if you know the name of the client Martin went to see?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know, Olivia. Martin left unexpectedly. He didn’t contact me to make the travel arrangements, which was very strange. I have always made his arrangements. Always. He did it himself. Martin was in contact with me every day for the past twenty years, but when he went to London this time, I didn’t hear from him for several days. I didn’t even know he had left the country. He asked me to transfer his work to the other advisors here until he returned. I pressed for details but for the most part he was mum. I was concerned to say the least. My reaction was that he was under too much stress and needed some time alone to think things over…maybe he had health issues…maybe he was considering retiring and putting the company up for sale. I didn’t know what to think. I had to put out a lot of fires here. His clients were irate. Some threatened to take their accounts elsewhere. I was baffled that Martin would behave this way after years and years of building this business. I was worried.” Paula clasped her hands. “But I never imagined that Martin would be murdered. At first I thought it may have been one of his disgruntled clients who killed him, but then I wondered how anyone would know he had returned and gone up to Ogunquit. I certainly didn’t know he had come back.”

  “So what do you make of it?” Olivia asked. “It sounds like Martin was in a hurry to get to Europe, but maybe not on business?”

  “It could’ve been business. But he didn’t share any of the details with me.”

  “And that was unusual?” Olivia asked.

  Paula Adams snorted. “Very. For over twenty years I knew who his clients were, when he saw them and where, what he needed to do his work. Certainly not the details of the work, of course. I’m not a financial advisor, but I was Martin’s support services. We were a good team. This trip to London? I was completely in the dark. I have no idea what he was doing there or why he was ignoring his long-time clients. It’s inexplicable.”

  “Unless,” Olivia started. Paula straightened and looked at Olivia keenly. If Olivia had an explanation, she was eager to hear it. Olivia continued, “Unless he was in danger.”

  “How do you mean?” Paula asked.
r />   “Perhaps he was running from something. Perhaps the trouble didn’t start when Martin returned from the trip. Maybe the trouble started before he left. Maybe going to London was an attempt to escape from trouble.”

  Paula looked across the room, her eyes unfocused, considering Olivia’s words. She turned back. “It makes sense.” She nodded. “When we spoke, he was cryptic. He said he was planning to meet with some colleagues in London to plan some new financial strategies. When I pressed him for more information, he was evasive and cut the phone call short. After that, he sent a few emails just to check in but that was all. I admit I was concerned and it crossed my mind that maybe Martin was unhappy with me and that was the reason he seemed to be behaving strangely. I wondered if he might be planning to replace me. I could not figure out what I had done wrong. Now I’m ashamed that I wasted time worrying about myself. My focus should have been on Martin’s welfare.”

  “There was no way to explain it,” Olivia said. “You couldn’t know what was going on. We still don’t know what was going on.”

  “No,” Paula said. “But the purpose of the trip had to be to get away from something. He must have been hiding out in London. How awful.” Paula blinked back tears. “Why didn’t he tell one of us? We could have helped him.”

  “He probably didn’t tell anyone for the same reason my aunt said nothing,” Olivia said. “They didn’t want to put anyone else in danger.”

  Paula’s face seemed to relax. “That’s the first thing about all this that makes any sense,” she said. “That is exactly like Martin. Thinking of others before himself.”

  “It seems from his passport that Martin also went to Munich while he was away,” Olivia said.

  “Did he?” Paula responded, surprise on her face.

  “Do you know why he might have traveled to Munich?”

  “Martin often traveled after conducting business in London. He loved collectibles. He enjoyed buying and selling old things. There was a dealer in Munich that he trusted and did business with. But if Martin felt he was in danger, why would he risk his safety by going there?” Paula asked. “If he was afraid of something, then indulging a hobby seems like it would be far from his mind.”

  “I agree,” Olivia said. “It doesn’t fit.” She paused, thinking. “Do you know the name of the dealer he worked with?”

  “Yes, I have his contact information in a file. Martin sometimes asked me to email him about certain items he was interested in.”

  Olivia brightened. “Could you email the dealer and ask if Martin visited him that week? And, if so, why?”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll do it right now.” Paula went to the coffee table to pick up her laptop.

  While Paula was preparing the email, Olivia said, “At the accident scene, Martin said something that sounded like Julie. Did he know anyone with that name who was important to him? He seemed desperate for me to find Julie.”

  Paula looked up from the keyboard. “Julie? I can’t think of anyone. Let me just finish this email to the dealer and then I’ll bring up a list of Martin’s clients.” After a minute of tapping and scrolling, she raised her eyes from the screen. “No Julies here. No Julias either. What other variations are there?”

  Olivia thought. “Julianne? Juliet? Julianna?”

  Paula leaned over the laptop, her eyes intent on the screen. She sat back. “No. None.”

  “I was afraid of that,” Olivia said. “There’s something else. Martin had a gold cross necklace in his possession the night he was in the accident. Had you ever seen him with something like that?”

  “A necklace? No. Martin never had it here. Not that I ever saw anyway. He was never fond of jewelry.”

  Olivia wasn’t sure what else to ask. Everything seemed to be a dead end. “Can you think of any reason that someone would want to kill Martin?”

  “Martin was the best person I’ve ever known,” Paula said. “He was smarter than anyone I ever knew, but what stood out was that he was honest, caring, warm, kind. People were drawn to him.” Paula shook her head. “He must have crossed paths with a crazy person. That’s the only explanation.”

  Chapter 15

  Olivia stood in front of the full length mirror. She was wearing a long, cream colored gown made of silk. The sleeveless dress followed her curves and flared out slightly from the knee to the floor. Tiny buttons covered in cream silk traced down the middle of her back, lending an air of elegance. The neckline dipped slightly and a tiny bit of cleavage showed. She wore her hair half up and half down and the soft chestnut waves fell just below her shoulders. Her makeup was understated. She had lined her lids with dark brown eye pencil and had applied several coats of black mascara which caused her blue eyes to pop. She wore soft pink lipstick. She smiled and walked out to the living room where Joe and Brad were waiting in their tuxedoes.

  When she entered the room, Brad gasped and Joe whistled. They gaped at her.

  Joe said, “Excuse me, Miss, have you seen Olivia?”

  The three of them laughed.

  “You look stunning,” Brad told her. She suddenly felt shy in front of him.

  “We,” Joe said, “will be the luckiest men at the gala.” He offered his arm to Olivia and the three of them went out to the car.

  Brad drove up the long, winding brick driveway edged with perennial beds. The sun was setting and lent a gorgeous glow over the property. The Victorian sat perched high on the bluff, overlooking the ocean. Old fashioned lamplights lined the driveway. Lights were blazing inside the mansion. Tents were set up on the expansive lawn. They could hear live music playing. They turned into the circular drive at the front of the Victorian. A red carpet had been placed on the brick and stone walkways and it stretched out, leading along the side of the building to the lawns in back.

  A butler stepped forward and opened Olivia’s door. “Welcome to Bianco Pace,” he said. A valet walked around the front of the car and handed Brad a claim ticket. Joe emerged from the back seat. Another butler carrying a silver tray bowed slightly and offered them flutes of champagne. He gestured to the red carpet, indicating that they should follow the path.

  Joe leaned in and said, “Bianco what?”

  Brad said, “I think it means something like ‘white peace’ in Italian.”

  “Why Italian? I thought they were Russians,” Joe asked. Brad shrugged.

  Hundreds of people were already mingling on the lawn. An eight piece orchestra was playing under one of the tents and people were dancing on the wooden floor that had been placed over part of the lawn. Tiny white lights sparkled in the trees and on the underside of the tops of the tents. Urns of flowers and potted plants were scattered all around the area. Another tent held long tables laden with meats, salads, fruits, and desserts. Waiters carried trays of drinks and hors d’oeuvres between the crowds. Ice sculptures of Roman emperors stood overlooking the festivities.

  “Yikes,” Olivia whispered.

  “Someone’s showing off,” Brad said.

  The back of the Victorian soared above the bluff. A large veranda ran the full length of the mansion. There were glass French doors open from the house to the porch and two burly men with shaved heads wearing dark suits stood sentry beside the doors. They gazed out to the sea, indifferent to the gathering of people.

  “Look at them,” Olivia said.

  “Not very friendly looking. What are they expecting? An attack?” Brad laughed.

  Magdalene Streeter swept over to them huffing and puffing, sweat beading on her upper lip. “Well, is this not the grandest event in the history of the area?” she boasted as if she was the one who was hosting. She made a beeline for Joe and took him by the arm. “Look at this handsome one,” she crowed. “How nice you clean up, honey.” She batted her eyes at him.

  “You look very nice, Magdalene,” Olivia said.

  Magdalene had an enormous diamond hanging around her neck. The diamond was held at the center of her throat by strands of yellow and white gold chains.

  “What
a beautiful necklace,” Olivia observed.

  Magdalene’s hand went to her necklace and she puffed up her chest.

  Olivia decided to try something. “You have such fine pieces of jewelry. I love that cross necklace I’ve seen you wear.”

  Magdalene’s forehead wrinkled. “Cross necklace?”

  “Yes. The one that has a skull in the center with the large diamonds.”

  Magdalene’s lip curled and she huffed. “Skull? I would never wear such a thing. No matter how large the diamond.”

  “I’m mistaken I guess. I must have seen it on someone else.” Olivia caught Joe’s eye and shrugged.

  “Well if you see it again, tell the person what poor taste they have.” Magdalene’s eyes swept the finery about them. “Look at this place,” Magdalene said. “Have you ever seen anything like it?” She was nearly breathless over the extravagant display of wealth. “You know, people are saying the owner even had a safe room designed for the basement. With ventilation systems and video surveillance cameras. Very elaborate. A safe room. Can you imagine? Who needs a safe room?” she asked. “Only someone very important, that’s who.” Magdalene adjusted the straps of her gown. “I have to see it. As soon as Mr. Siderov makes his appearance, I will introduce myself to him.”

  Olivia, Joe, and Brad exchanged amused glances.

  Brad leaned closer to Joe and Olivia. “Poor Mr. Siderov,” he joked.

  Magdalene seemed to emerge from her reverie of watching dollar signs dance in her head. She turned to Joe.

  “You come along with me and let me introduce you to a few people. And we can have a nice chat.” She started herding Joe into one of the tents. “Let the young people do whatever it is they do.”

  Olivia and Brad saw the look of dread that crossed over Joe’s face like he was being led to the slaughterhouse. They stifled laughs and gave Joe a little wave.