by Sarah Fox
As we wrapped up our conversation, I decided to ask Mr. Ogilvie about Jimmy’s loan to Jonah. I knew Ray would question the lawyer as well, but I wanted to satisfy my own curiosity.
“Did you know that Jimmy loaned thirty thousand dollars to Jonah Krantz?”
Mr. Ogilvie’s eyebrows drew together. “No. I wasn’t aware that he loaned money to anyone. Is this something he told you about before he died?”
“No.” I explained about the promissory note and how I’d delivered it to Sheriff Georgeson.
The lawyer nodded. “That was the best course of action, I’m sure. As for collecting the debt on behalf of the estate, I’ll certainly put things in motion as soon as possible.”
“It doesn’t surprise you that Jimmy didn’t mention the loan to you?” I asked.
“Not really. Jimmy was a very independent man. He did take care of such things on his own from time to time.”
So there really was a good chance that no one else had known about the loan. By killing Jimmy and destroying the promissory note, Jonah could have erased all evidence of the transaction and nobody would have been any wiser.
I filled Mr. Ogilvie in on my decision not to sell either of Jimmy’s properties, but I didn’t provide him with any firmer plans than that. He told me to let him know when I’d figured everything out, and I assured him that I would. After thanking him for all his help, I headed out of his office, stopping to talk to Lisa in the reception area.
“How’s Carlos doing?” I asked.
She smiled, relief clear on her face. “Much better. He’s out of the hospital and he’s agreed to go into treatment.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Her smile faded. “I hope he goes through with it.”
“I hope so too.”
Movement outside the large front window caught my attention. I turned for a closer look.
“They make a bit of an odd pair, don’t they?” Lisa said, having followed my line of sight.
Michael Downes was unloading a toolbox from the back of his black truck, parked next to the curb outside the lawyer’s office. Getting out of the passenger seat of the same vehicle was frizzy-haired Ida Winkler.
“I’ll say.” I continued watching Michael and Ida. “I never would have pictured the two of them hanging out together.”
“They’re related,” Lisa said.
I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”
“Michael is Ida’s nephew.”
“Huh.”
Michael said a few words to Ida and they parted ways on foot. In the last second before Ida disappeared from sight, I caught a flash of green around her neck. She was wearing a scarf of green feathers.
My heart rate kicked up several notches as I stood there, staring out the window. Somehow I managed to say goodbye to Lisa before hurrying out of the office. Out on the sidewalk, I peered up and down the street, searching for Ida and Michael, but both of them had already disappeared from sight.
I knew what I’d seen, though. The feathers in Ida’s scarf were exactly like the one I’d found at Myler’s Point, mere steps away from Jimmy’s body.
I continued to think things over as I walked slowly toward my car, barely noticing the rain pelting at my head.
Had Ida killed Jimmy and then returned to his house the other night for some reason? Was she the prowler Michael had scared away?
If that were the case, the lie I suspected Michael had told me would make sense. I’d thought he was trying to protect Daryl, but he was even more likely to want to protect his aunt.
Even if Ida had killed Jimmy, I couldn’t figure out why she would have bothered returning to the scene of the crime, unless she was also responsible for the rash of break-ins in town. She was a known thief, after all. Maybe she’d hoped to recover the stolen paintings from the workshop.
As I reached my car, I paused on the sidewalk, wondering if I should call Ray and fill him in on my suspicions about Ida Winkler. I didn’t exactly have any hard evidence against her, but maybe he could find some.
The feather.
I’d tucked it in my pocket after I’d caught it. It was probably still there. I wasn’t wearing those jeans today, but I hadn’t put them through the wash yet. I didn’t know if Ray would want the feather, if it counted as evidence, but it might, especially if it could be officially matched to the feathers in Ida’s scarf.
I pulled my phone out of my bag and checked the time. Afternoon would soon fade into evening, but I figured I still had time to go home and see if I could find the green feather before getting in touch with Ray. I was about to unlock my car when I noticed the antiques shop across the street. I still hadn’t taken the time to go inside and check out the cheval mirror.
Although I hesitated briefly, wanting to get back to Jimmy’s place to look for the feather, I decided I at least had time to slip inside the shop and get a closer look at the mirror. Leaving my car for the moment, I dashed across the street, dodging around puddles as I went.
When I opened the shop door, a bell tinkled overhead and the smells of wood, old leather, and a touch of dust met my nose. I paused inside the door, my eyes skipping over a display of vinyl records, a glass case full of vintage jewelry, and two 1950s armchairs before coming to rest on the cheval mirror that had first caught my interest a few days earlier.
A low murmur of voices drifted through the half-open door to a back room, but the place seemed otherwise deserted. I made my way over to the full-length oval mirror. Up close it captured my interest even more than it had from afar. It had beautiful scrollwork and stood on cabriole legs. Aside from a few small dents and scratches, it appeared to be in good condition.
There was no doubt about it. I was falling in love with the antique mirror.
A price tag hung from a string looped over one of the scrolls at the top of the frame. I flipped it over and grimaced when I saw the price.
You can afford it with your inheritance, I reminded myself.
As tempted as I was to buy it right then and there, I decided to wait until I wasn’t in such a rush to get home. But before I had a chance to turn for the door, a short, balding man emerged from the back room.
“Ah, hello there,” he said when he saw me, his accent an indication of Eastern European origins. “Can I help you with anything?”
I hesitated, but then decided there was no harm in talking to the man. “I was just admiring this mirror.”
“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” The man removed his round, wire-rimmed glasses and polished them with a handkerchief he produced from his pocket. “Victorian, mahogany,” he said as he replaced his glasses on his nose.
That confirmed what I’d already suspected, but although the mirror was calling to me, getting it back to the house would be a problem. “Unfortunately, my car is tiny and there’s no way I’d be able to transport it.”
“I can arrange for delivery,” the man said.
I almost told him right then and there that I’d take it, but I wasn’t used to making such large purchases on a whim. “I’ll think about it,” I said instead.
“Of course.” He gestured at the rest of the shop. “Please, take a look around. Let me know if you have any questions or if you’d like a closer look at anything.”
“Thank you.”
Before I had a chance to decide whether or not I’d spend another minute or two browsing, my cellphone rang. I dug it out of my tote bag and saw my mom’s name on the display.
“Hi, Mom,” I said once I’d accepted the call. “What’s up?”
“Hi, hon’. I’m back home and wanted to let you know that I’m planning to head over to Wildwood Cove first thing tomorrow morning.”
“That sounds good,” I said with a smile. “I’m glad you’re coming.”
“So am I, sweetie. I’m just sorry I couldn’t come earlier.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve been managing all right.”
“I’m glad to hear it. How’s your day been so far?”
I paus
ed in front of a blue-and-white porcelain vase. “I’m not really sure how to answer that question.”
“Why? Did something happen?”
“I discovered a couple of interesting things,” I said. “It’s a bit of a long story, so I’ll leave it until you get here. But let’s just say I might have an idea about who killed Jimmy.”
Or two ideas. It was still a toss-up between Jonah and Ida in my mind, but I didn’t bother to get into that.
“You’re not in any danger, are you?” A note of worry had entered my mom’s voice.
“Of course not,” I said, hoping that was the truth.
“But if you get the slightest hint that you’re in danger…”
“I’ll tell the sheriff,” I assured her.
“Good.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin as a sudden clang came from the back room. It was as though someone had dropped something heavy and metallic onto the floor. I glanced toward the proprietor where he stood behind the cash desk. He didn’t seem concerned, so I wandered away from the half-open door and returned my focus to my mom.
“I’d better run so I can do some laundry and get packed for tomorrow,” she was saying.
“All right. See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” my mom agreed.
We exchanged goodbyes and I hung up.
Tucking my phone away in my bag for the time being, I decided to get going. The sooner I found that feather, the sooner I could call Ray and tell him about Ida.
Chapter 24
After dashing through the pelting rain to get inside the house, I dropped my tote bag on the foyer floor and took the stairs two at a time up to the second floor. In the back bedroom where I’d been sleeping since my arrival in town, I snatched my favorite jeans off a chair and slid my hand into the left pocket. Way down at the bottom, my fingers touched something. When I pulled my hand out, I held the green feather between two fingers.
I clattered back down the stairs and fetched my cellphone from my bag. As I put a call through to Ray’s number, I wandered toward the back of the house. Flapjack jumped down from the couch in the family room and came over to greet me. I gave him a scratch under the chin as the call went to voicemail. I left a short message asking Ray to get back to me. After that, there wasn’t much I could do.
Flapjack mewed at me and I realized it was time for his dinner. I set out some food for him and quickly put a veggie wrap together for myself. As I ate, I kept checking my phone, as if I could somehow will the sheriff to get back to me, but it remained silent. After washing my dishes, I settled on the couch, the blustery wind throwing great splatters of rain against the windows and French doors.
Although I felt strongly that Ida was guilty of killing Jimmy, something about that scenario troubled me. Ida wasn’t a tall woman and she didn’t strike me as particularly strong or fit. She was definitely a lot smaller than Jimmy, and I wondered if she could have moved him on her own. It seemed unlikely. She would have had to hoist his body up into a vehicle and, after driving to Myler’s Point, get him out of the vehicle and over to the edge of the cliff.
So maybe she’d had help?
Oh no. It couldn’t be…
What if she’d called her nephew for help? Michael was strong and fit. Moving Jimmy probably wouldn’t have been much of a problem for him.
I shut my eyes, trying to sort out my thoughts, trying to figure out if there was some way I could connect Michael to the crime.
The glitter!
Retrieving my bag from the foyer, I dug through it until I came up with the card Patricia had given me. I snatched my phone up off the table and quickly dialed the number printed on the front of the card.
Patricia answered after the second ring. “Driftwood B&B.”
“Hi, Patricia. It’s Marley.”
“Hi, Marley. How are you doing?”
“All right, thanks,” I replied. “I have a quick question for you.”
“Of course.”
“When you had that problem with your dishwasher last week, did Michael fix it for you?”
“Are you having a problem with yours too?” She didn’t wait for me to respond, and I was grateful for that. “I called Michael about it,” she went on, “but he was tied up with another job so he sent Daryl Willis, his assistant. Michael’s fixed other plumbing problems for me in the past, though, and he knows his stuff. Daryl can handle the easy jobs, although I have to say he’s not as personable as Michael. Daryl’s girlfriend was hanging around too, which was a bit awkward.”
“Tina?”
“That’s her.”
My thoughts were going a mile a minute. Before I jumped to any conclusions, I decided to rule out one possibility. “Did you visit Jimmy anytime in the days before he died?”
“No, why do you ask?”
I couldn’t come up with anything to tell her other than the truth. “There was some glitter on his shirt the day he died. I was just wondering how it got there.”
“Hmm. I don’t know, but that glitter’s been such a nuisance. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was passed on to him from someone else.”
That was exactly what I now believed had happened.
“Thanks, Patricia.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow at Jimmy’s memorial.”
“Yes, see you then.”
I hung up, relieved that Michael hadn’t been the one to transfer the glitter to Jimmy. Knowing that I’d had dinner with a killer, and had ridden in his truck with him, would have been chilling.
Standing by the French doors, I stared out into the storm, thinking about what I’d learned from my conversation with Patricia. It seemed I’d been right to be so suspicious of Daryl. Maybe the feather from Ida’s scarf didn’t mean that she was guilty of anything. She’d probably shed the feather while visiting Michael’s house, the same house where Daryl lived. From there it could have stuck to Daryl’s clothes.
As I watched the storm, a flicker of movement caught my eye. I froze, my heart thudding out a rapid beat in my chest.
Was that someone on the beach watching me?
I hurried to unlock the doors and ran out onto the back porch, but the beach was now deserted. Still, I was certain I hadn’t imagined the figure. Someone had been standing on the beach, facing my direction, the hood of a gray sweatshirt pulled up over their head.
I scanned the rainy beach again but still saw no one. Whoever had been there couldn’t have gone far. Maybe he or she was still lurking nearby. With that uneasy thought, I retreated into the house, my hair and clothes damp from the rain. I locked the French doors and then made my way around the main floor, checking the locks on every other door and window. They were all secured, and the board over the window in the office was firmly in place. Still, I couldn’t relax.
What little daylight remained was quickly fading away, and the encroaching darkness along with the sounds of the raging storm only added to my edginess. I called Ray’s number again but, as before, it went to voicemail. I considered calling 911 but rejected that thought as soon as it formed. I didn’t really have an emergency. I’d seen an unidentified person on a public beach, possibly looking in my direction. Even though the sight of the figure had left an ominous feeling deep in my bones, no crime had been committed.
I sank down to sit on the arm of the couch, recalling something Ray Georgeson had told me days ago. He and his deputies suspected that the local burglaries had been committed by two people.
Daryl and Tina?
I pictured the young woman I’d seen standing outside Johnny’s Juice Hut and eating at The Flip Side. My heart kicked into overdrive again as I realized that the hooded figure on the beach was the right size and build to be Tina. Not only that, the figure’s clothes matched those I’d seen Tina wearing that day on Main Street when she was hanging out with Daryl and Logan.
Rushing over to the French doors, I peered through the rain and encroaching darkness, checking to see if the figure had returned, but the beach remained deserted as far as I
could tell.
Another memory flashed in my head. Tina’s new bracelet. I’d suspected that Daryl couldn’t afford such a nice piece of jewelry, and now I believed more than ever that he’d stolen it. In a small town like Wildwood Cove, it probably hadn’t taken long for news to spread of Jimmy’s hospitalization. Most likely, Daryl and Tina had figured that made his workshop a good place to store some of their loot. They probably wouldn’t have known until my arrival that Jimmy had a relative coming to stay in his house. Then Jimmy came home and found them trying to retrieve their stash.
That had to be how it played out.
I didn’t know which of them had actually wielded the knife that killed Jimmy, but it didn’t really matter at the moment. They were both guilty and, if I was right about the identity of the figure on the beach, I could be in danger.
Chewing on my lower lip, I decided I didn’t feel safe on my own, even with all the doors locked. Besides, I wanted to tell somebody about everything I’d found out. I wanted that person to be Brett, but I worried that he wouldn’t want to hear from me after our last conversation.
Scrolling through my list of contacts, I found the number Chloe had given me after our dinner at the Windward Pub so we could stay in touch. Selecting that number instead of Brett’s, I paced back and forth as the phone rang in my ear.
“Hey, Marley.”
Just hearing a familiar voice brought me a sense of relief.
“Are you busy?” I asked.
“Not really. I’m just cleaning up my dinner dishes. What’s up?”