A Killer Necklace

by Melodie Campbell

  “It’s Tony!” she said, looking at the screen. A smile lit up her face. “Excuse me, Becki. Hi babe! Miss me already?”

  It was easy to imagine Tony’s side of the conversation.

  Gina laughed. “Becki’s right beside me. We’re sitting on the dock with our feet dangling over the edge. Are you jealous?” Then she whispered to Becki, “Tony says hi.”

  “Hi back,” Becki said in sign language.

  “In a few minutes we’re going to walk over to Becki’s client Louisa’s house,” explained Gina.

  Wonderful to see Gina so excited.

  “It’s right on the water and Becki says that’s where the shower is going to take place tomorrow. Not enough room in her apartment and since Louisa offered up her own space… Probably wants to show off her new Beautiful Things kitchen, but Becki says the whole place is fabulous.”

  Just the slightest hint of a deep male voice floated over to Becki.

  “Becki wants to introduce me to Louisa before the big day and of course I want to meet her.”

  Tony must have said, “Have fun!”

  “You too. And I’ll be home before you know it.”

  Pause.

  “What?” Gina asked.

  Becki noticed a new sharpness to her voice.

  “Montreal?”

  Chapter 4

  “He says Montreal, but who knows what that means?”

  Becki smiled indulgently. “Maybe…Montreal?”

  The sun was less intense now. Becki breathed in the clean country air and once again thanked the heavens that she and Karl were living out of the city.

  She took one last look at the deep blue lake. The walk to Louisa’s house would only take them ten minutes at most, but it was time to get going. She gestured for Gina to come with her.

  Gina was obviously still steaming about that phone call. Becki sighed. Best let her get it out of her system, before meeting up with other people.

  “The wedding is only three weeks away. Who knows if he’ll get back in time?” Gina grumbled.

  “Sweetie, he’s only in Montreal.”

  “Don’t bet on it. More likely, he’s somewhere in the Middle East. Or Africa. Or Timbuktu.”

  “Timbuktu is in Africa.” Becki couldn’t resist.

  But still, she shared a bit of Gina’s angst.

  Tony was supposed to have gone ‘clean.’ No more funny business jetting around the world on behalf of Her Majesty’s Colonial Service. Seems like he couldn’t resist one last job.

  This is what she knew Gina was really worried about. Tony had led an exciting life. Would he really be able to give it up and settle back into the role of husband and architect?

  Tony had made a promise. This jaunt was probably bending it.

  A slight breeze picked up flower blossoms on the sidewalk and whirled them around.

  Becki decided to change the subject. “Do you remember meeting Louisa?”

  Gina paused. “I think so. At the Christmas tea you held last year. She likes the color blue. I remember she commented on that Missoni I had on.”

  “Is that why you wore blue today?” Becki asked. It was typical of Gina to remember things like that, and try to please people. Today, she was wearing a gorgeous halter dress in a teal and aqua stained glass pattern.

  She brightened. “Yes. It’s silly, I know. But I’m sensitive to color myself, so I like to match people with colors they like.”

  “You mean…?”

  “Louisa is blue. Tony is red—he loves it when I wear scarlet. And it suits his personality.”

  No kidding, Becki thought. “And me?” She had to ask.

  “You’re…any shade of pink. Like your top. Light and warm and beautiful.”

  Becki felt her heart lift. Her walk became perkier. “That is a really nice thing to say, Gina.”

  Gina shrugged. “It’s how you are. How I see you, anyway.”

  Really, Becki thought, it was the nicest thing anyone had said about her in years.

  And it did the trick. Thoughts of Tony had vanished.

  Becki walked briskly, turning the corner.

  “You’ll like Louisa’s house. It’s Victorian. One of the big ones on Princess Street. Was a doctor’s home originally. Great bones. It has more windows than the usual Victorian mansion, so the light inside is magical. I loved working on it.”

  Gina grinned. “We’re pretty alike, you know. While I go on and on about clothes and color, you think the same about decorating houses.”

  Becki laughed. “Touché. Well, you’ll get to be the judge of this one. It’s my masterpiece, you might say.”

  She turned left. Louisa’s house was just ahead.

  “Is that it? Wow, it’s lovely,” said Gina.

  And it was. Not quite a mansion, the restored doctor’s home featured two tall stories, with perfectly placed gables. The roof had been recently replaced, and the French-blue paint trim beautifully complemented the grey stone on the front of the house. The door was painted soft blue as well.

  Becki walked up the flagstone path. It was lined with a plethora of flowers.

  “This is only the appetizer. Her real garden is at the back, going down to the lake.”

  When she reached the door, Becki knocked three times.

  They waited.

  “I’ll try again.” She did.

  “Maybe Louisa is around the back?”

  “Maybe,” Becki said. “But’s it’s unusual. She was expecting us.”

  This is weird. She peered in through the small diamond shaped window in the door. Nothing. No sign of movement.

  Gina stepped nervously from foot to foot.

  “I’ll just nip around the back and check.”

  Becki watched her walk to the side of the house. Then she took hold of the doorknob and twisted.

  The door swung open.

  Now that wasn’t too unusual. Many people in Black Currant Bay didn’t lock their doors during the day, especially if they were expecting company. It wasn’t like the city.

  Becki stepped through the doorway. “Louisa?”

  No sound came from anywhere in the house.

  She moved through the hall and peeked into the large front parlour.

  No one.

  “Louisa, are you there?”

  Nothing. This is definitely strange.

  Becki walked to the kitchen at the back. It always lifted her spirits whenever she entered this room. One of her best designs, she noted with satisfaction. Lemon yellow made the most of the southern light that glowed in through the short window over the sink, and the period bay window in the eating area. The tiered curtains with pull backs made a gorgeous frame for the traditional English garden and the lake in the distance.

  She could hear the antique clock ticking.

  She moved to the sink, looked out and waved to Gina, who was just leaving the back yard.

  “I can’t find her inside. Any sign?” Becki said through the open window.

  Gina shook her head. “I’ll check around the other side.”

  Becki watched her disappear around the corner. She felt the frown lines crease her forehead. Where the heck was Louisa?

  She turned, and leaned back against the mocha-streaked granite countertop.

  The cellar door stood open. Perhaps she’s doing something downstairs? But you don’t do laundry when you have guests coming over.

  It didn’t make sense.

  Becki hurried to the doorway and looked down.

  At the bottom of the painted wooden stairs, lay a body. It was distorted, with twisted limbs, like a rag doll tossed carelessly upon a concrete floor. Red paint seeped from under the camel-clad figure.

  “That’s not paint,” Becki said out loud.

  The next few minutes were a blur.

  Gina had appeared and taken control. Now, Becki was seated on the parlour sofa. She sat with her head between her legs, fighting to keep hold of her vision.

  “I don’t know why I got faint like this.”

&
nbsp; Gina fussed about her, holding a glass of water.

  “Keep your head down. I’ve called 911 and Karl. They’ll be here any minute.”

  Becki moaned. She still didn’t feel good. When she tried to lift her head, the room kind of swung around a bit. “Why does it always have to be Karl? He’ll get all stern-like and scold me for being here.”

  “We didn’t do anything wrong,” Gina said. “She invited us over. And it was probably a good thing we came when we did. Who knows how long she would have been lying there otherwise.”

  That was true. Luckily, it had only been a few hours since Louisa had called to confirm the time.

  Becki shivered. She’d seen the CSI shows.

  The trouble with me is I have too much imagination, she thought miserably. That’s what makes me a good designer of course. The ability to imagine things that aren’t there yet.

  “Drink this when you’re ready.” Gina held out the glass.

  Becki shook her head. At least, it seemed like she did.

  “Do you think she fell?” Gina’s voice again.

  “What?” Becki tried to lift her head, but Gina’s face kept moving in and out of focus.

  “Or do you think she was pushed?”

  The room stopped moving. Becki snapped out of her reverie. “Why would you ever think that?”

  Gina paced the floor.

  “She wasn’t the only thing at the bottom of the stairs.”

  Chapter 5

  “Um…we might feel better if we wait outside for the cops,” Gina suggested.

  “No.” A new determination had taken hold of Becki. “Even if I can’t stay right there with her…with Louisa…I can’t leave her alone in the house.”

  “I understand.”

  So they sat together quietly in the parlour. When the front door opened and the ambulance crew lumbered in, Gina pointed them in the right direction.

  Karl came into the house next with two of his officers. He gave Becki and Gina a brief acknowledgement, motioning that he’d be right back, and then went directly to the scene.

  Becki didn’t want to know what all the equipment was that the men lugged in and out, or what they were using it for.

  Could a half hour have gone by before Karl approached them in the parlour? She noticed his movement across the hardwood floor seemed more of a dejected shuffle than a walk. He was a tall man, with a roughness around the edges that came from living in the northland his whole life.

  “What can you tell me?” he asked. He looked from one to the other.

  Between the two of them Becki and Gina filled him in about everything from Louisa’s original invitation to drop by, to the discovery of her still form.

  “Did you check to see if she was alive before you called 911?”

  “I did,” Gina said.

  “No vitals?”

  “None.”

  “Louisa was your client wasn’t she, Becki?” Karl asked.

  “Yes.” Her hand came up and pressed against her lips. “We just recently updated her kitchen.”

  She had marvelled at the bold urban sensibility of Louisa’s vision for this old Victorian in small-town Black Currant Bay.

  “What do you know about her?” he asked.

  Becki had to admit, “We weren’t super tight.” Right away her mind flew to Gina saying that she was having a hard time connecting with coworkers. Please tell me that I was more open to friendship with Louisa than Gina’s coworkers are with her.

  “I do know that she lived alone. She told me she had a cleaning lady to help with the upkeep. I also know that Louisa had taste, I mean, look around you.” Becki’s hands opened to the room but she quickly dropped them. “Louisa paid for the kitchen job in one lump sum so she wasn’t short of cash…”

  “Did she discuss any other kind of problem she might be having?”

  “No, she seemed quite content.”

  Karl was writing down notes in his pad as they conversed. All very official. Becki wondered if his questions varied in any way from the questions he would ask if she wasn’t his wife. And if Gina wasn’t their great friend. She’d never been interrogated by him at the scene of a murder before.

  Yes, Gina had already indicated her suspicion that Louisa’s death was deliberate.

  Becki and Karl were a couple that talked in bed. She gabbed anyway. He responded appropriately. All the while at least one part of their bodies touched under the covers. A reassurance that the other was there. Tonight—this morning rather—she needed the comfort of that togetherness more than ever. From the moment she and Gina got home, until Karl crawled in beside her in the wee hours, Becki had kept herself pulled together as much as could be expected. But when Karl leaned over and kissed her in the darkness, tears welled up.

  Karl took her in his arms. “I’m so sorry, Becki.”

  It was a wonder he understood her words between her sobs and hiccups and sniffs. Maybe he didn’t. But it didn’t matter because he was holding her and soothing her.

  Eventually Becki felt her pulse calm and her breathing slow.

  Karl smoothed her hair back and said, “You know, we weren’t able to find any next of kin so we went ahead and released her name to the media.”

  Becki just listened now.

  “Hon, there’s a way you could help.”

  Oh, that was something she would like to do, if possible.

  “I know you’re busy with the shower and all,” he continued, “but do you think there’s any way you could go over to Louisa’s house and just look through her things yourself with a woman’s eye. See if there’s something we missed. You’re as detail-oriented as any of my men. Maybe more so. I’ll tell everyone you’re figuring out what charities to bring in and for which pieces. Otherwise, if no relatives turn up to make a claim, we’ll just have to dump her stuff.”

  “Is this urgent, Karl? The shower’s…” Gina came first after all.

  “We don’t put off for tomorrow what we can do today in crime investigation.”

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” she agreed reluctantly even though she couldn’t imagine anything sadder than casual friends pawing through your things after you’re dead and gone. “I’ll bring Gina along if she doesn’t object. She’ll know what to do with clothes and jewelry and stuff like that.”

  Apparently satisfied, Karl rolled over.

  Here we go, thought Becki, not really wanting to be left alone with images of her evening. On top of that, Karl’s snoring will start up like it does every night and I’ll have to encase both ears in insulating pillow.

  When she and Karl married he didn’t snore disruptively. Now it was loud snorts followed by long rattles followed by virtual roars. Maybe the variety depended on what Karl was dreaming about. Scientifically, she knew that with age the tissues in the throat loosen and vibrate. She’d complain more about it except that Karl never ever said a word about the tissues of her own body that were loosening and vibrating.

  “Before you go to sleep, Karl…”

  “Yes?” His muffled voice reached her from the far side of the bed.

  “I’m worried about Gina too.”

  “Why is that?”

  “She seems a bit down to me. Even before we found Louisa.”

  “Is she getting cold feet?”

  “She says not.”

  “And you don’t believe her?”

  “No, I believe her. Some of her worries are work-related. But could it be partly Tony too? What do you think of him?”

  Karl turned. The whites of his teeth flashed in the moonlight that slanted in through the window. “Not the what do you think of Tony question mere weeks before the wedding and seconds before I fall asleep.”

  Becki felt like jabbing him with one of the least loose-fleshed and vibration-prone parts of her body but held the impulse in check. He was only trying to lighten the mood.

  “Tony’s got a temper,” she pointed out.

  Only one more day to go before the shower and Becki and Gina were hanging over the
rail of an old, white and red launch touring the shoreline. They were sheltered from the relentless sun beneath an awning.

  A heat wave had plunged Southern and Central Ontario into a situation of high risk for power-outage due to extensive use of air-conditioners. Becki chose to live without air conditioning. Most of the time she enjoyed living in sync with outdoor temperatures during the summer. But every now and then heat and humidity got to be unbearable in their apartment above the store, even with all the windows and blinds closed and all the fans on full blast. Thankfully they lived near the lake and could go for emergency dips.

  That’s fine for us, thought Becki, but what about Gina and guests at the shower if it stays hot like this? I mean, we’re going to have to move the shower to our place from Louisa’s.

  Gina seemed unperturbed about the change of venue and about the heat as well. Not a trace of sweat on her brow. “This is the first time I’ve seen Black Currant Bay from the point of view of the bay,” she said.

  “Pretty, isn’t it?”

  “Perfect,” said Gina. “If I were a painter…”

  Black Currant Bay and its surroundings really were inspirational and Becki was in no way blasé about her environment, but she knew that appearances can occasionally be deceiving.

  Might as well get it over with, she thought. “Gina,” she began, “when we get back in, there’s something I have to do. You’re welcome to join me, and in fact your presence would be helpful, but please don’t feel obliged.”

  Gina cocked her head. “That sounds ominous…”

  Becki gritted her teeth and shrugged. “Karl wants me to go through Louisa’s house, look for any information that might lead to family members. Keep my eyes open for a clue as to what led to her death. Start thinking about packing her things. I told him I’d ask you to lend a hand.”

  Gina’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, now he wants our help? I’m remembering what he told us at Louisa’s. That it didn’t look good that we turned up at the scene of a crime. I guess this latest request means we’re only suspects on paper then?”

  “Of course we’re not suspects in Karl’s eyes!”

  Then Becki sighed. “Gina, this is not what I hoped for on your shower weekend. This and the heat!”