Karl’s mouth opened and formed several shapes. His throat worked too, but nothing came out.
“Did I say something wrong?” Becki was suddenly concerned.
“Bingo!”
“Bingo?”
“You hit the jackpot. Louisa had a fire-safe box hidden behind a wall, and when the fire destroyed everything else, it was exposed. You remember Stevens in the fire department? He cracked open the safe while I was on the line and it sounded to me like he couldn’t believe his eyes when he looked inside. One stunner of a necklace. I’ll see it for myself tomorrow.”
In her mind, Becki high-fived Gina. Then something pushed her to ask, “Can I come with you tomorrow?”
“Not necessary, is it?”
Oh but it is! “If you let me come and take pictures of it so I can send them to Gina, I’ll tell you what we know about Louisa.”
“What do you mean? You’ve discovered something about Louisa?
“We’re not 100 percent sure yet.”
“How sure are you?”
“About 99.99 percent?”
“For crying out loud!”
Karl looked severe but she wasn’t buying it. Her husband was a softy deep down.
“Do we have a deal?”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
Becki explained everything she and Gina had pieced together so far.
Sylvia sat at a table for nine in the glass-fronted Poker Room at Casinoarama. There were twelve tables altogether fairly closely spaced on the rich burgundy carpet and she was at table number one. The other eight players at her table were all male. She knew how ridiculously late it was, but the room was open twenty-four hours a day and as far as she could tell there was always a game on.
She’d started play early in the evening at a lower table and the cards had been in her favour all night so she’d decided to move to the No-limit table.
She peeked at her hole. Out of 52 cards—1,326 distinct possible combinations of two—she had landed a ten of clubs and a ten of diamonds. Luck was still standing by her but she worried that she shouldn’t have switched games. She worried but she didn’t let it show.
She had to win big tonight to pay down some of her debt before she found herself unable to pay even the interest, because the alternative—bankruptcy—would mean she’d be stuck in dead-end Black Currant Bay forever.
Normally she wouldn’t consider losing a cleaning contract pivotal but Louisa had been a very special client, paying bonuses to keep her mouth shut about certain things Sylvia had discovered when she walked in early one day to do her job. Really, Louisa’s death was very, very unfortunate and it certainly wasn’t something she’d anticipated.
Earlier today she’d read that Becki Green, that woman who owned Beautiful Things, and her friend Gina Monroe from The Weather Network had discovered Louisa’s body. Avenues for later?
Not the time to think about that! Focus!
Her eyes itched and burned, her head throbbed and her lower back ached from sitting all this time but she didn’t let any of that show either. To the men around the table, only her youth and good looks were on display. Amazing how blind the opposite sex could be. The guys pictured a combination of what they wanted to see and what she wanted them to see.
Small blind, big blind, bets around the table clockwise round and round, two players out, the dealer burns a card, three-card flop face-up, no ten.
The dealer burns another card, the turn is dealt, no ten.
Odds in my head, chips dwindling, the dealer burns the last card of the hand, finally the river, it’s a ten.
All in…
Chapter 21
Cathy stared at the photo, the one personal likeness she had of Garry Davenport. It had been taken over twenty years ago, on a weekend away at the very beginning of their affair, when they had both been madly in love with each other, and strangely addicted to the risk.
Garry stood on the balcony of their second-floor room at an exclusive Muskoka resort. He had been standing casually, looking out across the cobalt lake, when she had called his name. His head turned in response, and she caught him on camera just before he smiled.
Her heart still tugged when she looked down at the photo. The wisps of memory were becoming stronger. This man had been the love of her life. There had been no one before or after that had made her heart sing like Garry. She was pretty sure she had been the same to him. Heartbreak—the resulting heartbreak from the trial and her own slinking back to the shadows—was something that haunted her to this day.
Their relationship had never ended. They had never ‘broken up.’ She had simply stayed in the shadows as he lived out his sentence in prison. As her own marriage became quietly unglued, she continued to stay in the shadows.
This had been his wish.
She looked down at the masculine face in the photo.
Never a word from him. Not one word since the day he was arrested. That was the thing. If he’d written to her just once… Was he still protecting her? Could there still be danger for her?
Cathy was almost positive it was protection that was keeping him silent. That would be in character. But the mind has a way of doubting itself after the passing of many years.
Cathy didn’t regret those months long ago. The years in between had been painful, but she had lived an opera. She had lived. So much better to look back on life and think, I have experienced the kind of passion that very few are fortunate to have in a lifetime.
Yes, it was worth it, a thousand times worth it. And it would be worth it again. She would do it all again—everything. She put the photo down on the glass coffee table and picked up the phone.
It was a dream come true. Sylvia could hardly contain her excitement.
The elderly man in the cashier booth gave her a crooked tooth smile.
“Gonna go on a world cruise?” he said. “You can smuggle me aboard in a suitcase.”
Sylvia hooted. The idea of her hooking up with this geezer—which usually would have had her turning up her lip in a snarl—now seemed hilarious. So that was what money could do for you. It put you in a totally different frame of mind.
“Pay off some debts,” she said. “And maybe buy a new car. One of those cute sporty convertibles, you know? I’ve always wanted one.”
She was floating on a cloud, she was. Did rich people feel this way all the time? Or did they get used to it?
“You were smart to stop when you did. Most people blow their chance by getting too greedy.” The old man handed her a slip.
Sylvia nodded in agreement. For once, she had done things right. Held back. Taken the winnings. Not pushed her luck.
She wandered out to the parking lot in a state of euphoria. What would she do first? Should she stop cleaning houses? Cancel her customers?
Go on a trip? Buy a car?
She couldn’t do everything, of course. There wasn’t that much money. Maybe…keep the customers she had, keep cleaning, and live high for a while. Get the hot car. Go to Bermuda or Mexico. Buy some great clothes and stuff.
She unlocked the door to her beat-up Ford Focus, head filled with grand plans.
Becki stared at the jeweled necklace on the battered precinct desk.
“I waited until everyone left for the day before calling you. Didn’t want to explain why you were…well, you know what I mean. Easier this way,” Karl said.
Becki smiled and nodded. Karl wouldn’t want to admit his wife was helping with the case, no matter how little she was. It wasn’t just pride. There were unspoken rules about outsiders.
The necklace certainly was a stunner. The gems were set in white gold. They sparkled royal blue and shiny white under the florescent lights. There were earrings to match for pierced ears—drop things, very blingy. The stones were too large to be real.
“Pretty baubles, aren’t they?” Karl stood beside her. “Sort of like the crown jewels.”
“They would match that dress we found, for sure,” Becki said. “I expect they were create
d for each other. Designers do that. May I touch them?”
Karl shrugged. “Sure.”
Becki reached forward with both hands. She felt Karl watching her carefully. He had a frown on his face. Was he regretting that he hadn’t thought to buy her pretty jewelry like this? Not that they ever went anywhere you could wear something so ornate.
But Becki had more important things to think about. Maybe she could find a brand name. She turned over the necklace and scrutinized the area where Gina had trained her to look. No hope of it.
“Hand me your reading glasses,” she said to Karl.
He passed them to her. They were ridiculously large on her nose, and even more powerful than her own, which would still be lying where she had forgotten them, on the bedside table.
Becki looked again at the markings on the back of the clasp.
Her head snapped up. She put the necklace down and turned to Karl.
“I need to call Gina.”
Karl nodded, but looked surprised. He handed Becki the handset of his desk phone.
Gina answered on the first ring. Becki explained where she was, and why.
“I’m taking a photo and sending it to you. Ring me back on this line when you get it,” Becki said.
She hung up. “You don’t mind if I take a photo of these, right? It’s only for Gina. She won’t show it around.”
Karl raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Tell her to keep it confidential. What are you cooking up between the two of you?”
Becki smiled, but didn’t answer. She removed the cellphone from her purse and got busy with her task.
A few minutes later, the desk phone rang. Becki picked it up, listened and then answered.
“Says 18 K.”
She listened again, and her eyes went wide. She covered the speaker with her other hand and turned to Karl.
“Gina says it’s real.”
“What?” Karl exclaimed.
“She says designers don’t set costume jewelry in 18 karat gold. That’s what I was checking on the back of the clasp. It says the setting is 18 K. Gina says those rhinestones are actually diamonds, and the blue stones will be sapphires.”
They stared at each other in shock.
Becki turned her attention to the phone in her hand. “Here—I’m putting the receiver down and turning the phone on speaker, Gina. How much would they be worth, do you think?”
Gina’s silky television voice came through clearly on the speakerphone. “Three, four hundred thousand, probably. I once saw a set in Bulgari like that, but the stones weren’t as big. They were $365,000 US. So maybe more. It would depend on the quality.”
“What did you call that type of stone? Sapphire? I thought sapphires were small.” Karl was scratching his head.
“That’s why they don’t look real,” Gina said. “But they’re real all right, although rare. I’d bet my engagement ring.”
No you wouldn’t, thought Becki.
“So do you think this is what the arsonist was looking for, Karl?” Gina asked.
“Could be,” Karl said thoughtfully. “Thing is, they were hidden in a wall. Who would even know she had these?”
It was nearly an hour later when Cathy put down the phone. First, she had tried to reach Gina, but that line was busy. Next, she tried Gina’s mother. That had led to a half hour discussion about the arrangements for the hospital fundraising ball, and Cathy’s part in arranging the entertainment.
Following that, she had phoned the magician to confirm his arrival time and hours of duty. He would go from table to table entertaining patrons, while the band took breaks. In all, she thought the guests would get value for their high-priced tickets. At one thousand dollars a plate, and ten thousand a table, this was definitely a high-priced affair.
No matter. They never had trouble filling the seats in a city as big as Toronto. It was an excuse to see and be seen, to show off acquired wealth, more than anything else.
But all for a good cause, as Anna continually reminded. That was true. This time, the hospital would get needed medical equipment, like a new MRI.
Cathy didn’t work at a job. She didn’t have kids to raise anymore. You needed to do something with your time besides shop and lunch. Charity event planning was the one thing she could do well, that actually did some good. Also, she liked the women who did this. They were amazingly competent for being stay-at-home wives.
She got up from the couch and wandered into the kitchen, with thoughts about dinner. As she gazed into the sub-zero fridge, the doorbell rang.
Cathy closed the fridge door, hoping wildly for the pizza man. That’s what she wanted tonight—pizza. Maybe he read her mind and was already there?
She flung open the front door, shaking her head with a silly smile on her face.
It vanished immediately.
“You?” she said, with a choked hush.
“Hello, Cathy. You’ve hardly changed at all. May I come in?” said Garry Davenport.
Chapter 22
Cathy had hesitated for a split second. And then she threw herself into Garry’s arms, nearly knocking him off the stoop. For a moment they clung there, oblivious to the moments passing. And then Garry had released his relentless hold, pushed back to gaze at her, and kissed her face in a dozen places.
That had been two hours ago. Now, after the tears, the awkward first words, the urgent passion to become reacquainted with each other’s bodies after so long, they lay content in her bed, in each other’s arms. Cathy had to wonder that it seemed so right, and so natural.
“I dreamed of this for years and years,” muttered Garry.
Cathy sighed with contentment. She wanted to ask—oh how she wanted to ask—if she had been his last lover. But she held her tongue, so as not to spoil the moment.
“Not too rusty, I hope?” he ventured.
Cathy giggled. Now she had her answer, and it filled her with joy.
“No rust on that steel. And no need for Viagra,” she said.
He laughed. “No, no need for that. I’ve been saving up a long, long time, sweet thing.” He kissed her shoulder. “I swear you are sexier now than back in those days.”
“Hardly that,” she murmured. “I wanted to contact you so badly. So many times, I nearly did.”
“I knew that. I also knew that you would stay hidden. You’d understand my wishes and respect them.”
Yes, she had gotten that. His lack of communication with her had been a deliberate sign for her to stay out of the picture. She knew him well enough to know that. Even though it hurt like hell. Even though she knew it was for her own sake. And safety.
“What will you do now?”
He moved to sit up. “I’m not sure. Would you mind having a man in the house for the time being?”
Her heart leaped with joy, but her mind was playful.
“What makes you think there isn’t one already?”
He smiled down at her. It was an odd smile…not conveying happiness so much as shrewd satisfaction. “There isn’t. I know. I’ve known everything you’ve ever done from the moment I went in, Cath.”
Her first thought was, how? And then she remembered. Garry was well-connected. He was also a master businessman. He would have organized everything he wanted to keep track of well before entering prison, and hired the people to do it. Hell—he probably was able to keep organizing everything while he was in prison. He was just that sort of guy.
There was no doubt in her mind Garry had shady connections. That had come out during the trial. But even before, she had known. It even—if she was being honest with herself—made him more exciting, back then.
So Garry had been keeping track of her…had even hired people to do it.
Good thing her life had been sort of blameless since the divorce. Really, there had only been a couple of tepid dates that went nowhere. Because beneath everything, Cathy couldn’t rid herself of her longing for this one man.
No one else would do.
“So. What have you got planned for th
e next while?” Garry asked.
“Just some charity functions. What did you have in mind?”
Garry rose from the bed. She watched him stretch, his body still lean and hard from physical activity. It made a contrast to his face, which was heavily lined and showed his age.
“I have a few loose ends to clear up. Financial stuff.”
Oh dear. Financial stuff. For years, Cathy had wondered where the money had all gone. Garry had been one of the super-rich, super-elite in Toronto. Not only did he live on the Bridal Path, he was a member of the Granite Club, and also the Royal Canadian Yacht Club.
Money had been an issue at the trial, of course. A whole bunch was missing. Shareholders were up in arms. Words like ‘swindled’ peppered the papers.
The monster house and Muskoka cottage had been sold when Garry went to prison. But where had all that money gone?
Cathy rose from the bed and reached for her aqua dressing gown on the antique chair beside the bed.
“Anything I can help with?”
“Don’t worry about money, sweetheart. I won’t have to freeload off you. I have some tucked away. And a lot more coming, when I can get at it.”
He sat back on the bed to pull on his pants.
“First thing. I have to get a hold of this woman who may be able to give me some information.”
Cath tensed instinctively at the words ‘this woman.’ Last thing she wanted was another woman in the picture. “Who is it?”
“Gina something. She’s on The Weather Network.” Garry rose from the bed and did up his zipper.
“Gina Monroe?” Cathy could hardly believe it.
“That’s the name. I tried to see her at the studio, but no go. They locked up tight. It’s like she’s a major celebrity or something and they’re keeping out the paparazzi.”
“But I know her! She’s the daughter of a friend. I had dinner with her just this week.”
Garry swung around, startled. “You know Gina Monroe?”
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