by Cassie Page
A few grains of sticky rice had missed her napkin and she plucked them from her lap before they stained her pants. If she’d known how the day was going to turn out, she’d have worn jeans instead of good slacks. It was Friday, her laid back day. She’d planned to quit early and had dressed to do some shopping.
“Well, do you at least know the cause of death yet?”
Matt was wolfing down his lunch, needing to get back to work. “Nothing firm. It definitely wasn’t the fall. You heard the medical examiner say she’d been dead about eight hours based on the rigor mortis.”
“I know this sounds terrible, Matt, but I’m relieved to hear that. When we first saw her I was afraid I might be liable somehow because of the hole in the floor. That muck-up is on me.”
Matt dismissed her worry with a vigorous shake of his head. “Nah. Definitely didn’t happen from the fall. Her death. She wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place, and technically she didn’t steal anything. Obviously. She didn’t get that far, but she broke in, so it’s her bad.”
He stopped. “Wait, that didn’t come out right. It’s terrible that she died, but I mean she was liable for her own death. Xavier doesn’t know how she broke in, though, because the security system hadn’t been breached. That’s angle number one.”
Olivia put down her burrito and stared across the parking lot, seeking an answer to the puzzle. “Well if the fall didn’t do it, how did she die?”
Matt spoke with his mouth full. “Angle number two,” he said, chewing. “Haven’t a clue until the coroner does the post mortem. I’ve tried to put a rush on it. They do them in San Rafael and there are a few cases ahead of us.”
San Rafael was a substantial city of 58,000, about twenty miles away with a coroner among other municipal amenities not available in Darling Valley.
“Could someone have been with her?”
“No evidence of that. Door was locked from the inside. Nothing on the security tape. Maybe Xavier didn’t lock up as tightly as he thought. Then, once she got in, something went sideways.”
Olivia had lost her appetite pondering what she should say to Matt about Awful Arlo’s call. She put that aside for the moment and wrapped the foil around the remainder of her burrito. “Okay, so why was she in there playing dress up, so to speak, trying on all of Xavier’s jewels when she and her husband could buy out his collection?”
Matt finished his burrito and put his fist over his mouth to suppress a burp. “That’s angle number three,” he said reaching for his cookie and checking his watch. “If I could figure that one out, I’d change my name to Sherlock Holmes.”
Olivia said no thanks, when he offered the remaining cookie to her.
Matt decided against the cookie, too, and stuck it back in the bag. “Angle number . . . I’ve lost count. The forensic team is almost finished. Because there are so many fingerprints in the jewelry store from customers, your guys, service people like UPS, we probably won’t learn much from prints, but there’s still a lot to sort out.”
Olivia knew he had to get back to work, but she needed more answers. “Well how did her husband take it? Hadn’t he noticed her missing? Did you have to give him the news?”
Matt winced. “Over the phone.”
She knew he hated breaking bad news to families.
“He was in San Diego at business meetings. He’s been there for a few days. Spoke to her last night about eleven. She told him she was going to watch a rerun of some housewives show and turn out the light. He called her this morning but she didn’t pick up. Assumed she was out for her run or in the shower. Figured he’d catch up with her later after a meeting.”
Olivia had a picture in her mind of the last time she had seen Jocelyn’s husband. Distinguished more than handsome, and somewhat remote the first time they were introduced. His leathery face showed the effects of his passion for competitive sailing, the sun damage the price he was willing to pay for an Auld Mug some day, what insiders call the America’s Cup.
“So how did he take it? I only met him once or twice when I was at their home doing measurements and so forth. He seemed distant, but I figured he was an important man and had a lot on his mind.”
Matt scowled as he related the call. “Well he wasn’t distant when I broke the news. He came undone. Had to hang up and call me back. Even then he could barely hold up his end of the conversation. I made him promise he would call somebody and not be alone. He said he had an assistant who would fly home with him. He has his own plane, of course.”
Olivia said, “They all do,” referring to the bulk of the residents of Darling Valley whose net worth was typically measured in a long row of zeroes. “So he’s not a suspect.” She was thinking out loud.
Matt slicked back his hair and checked his teeth in the visor mirror, preparing to leave. “You know how it goes in my business, sweetheart. Everybody’s a suspect unless they were at their own funeral.”
Olivia saw her opening, but was hesitant about taking it. She looked him in the eye and just plunged in.
“Have you heard of Dan Arlo? A blogger?”
He thought for a few seconds. “No, should I know him?”
“I got a call from him this morning. He left a message while we were at Xavier’s. When I called him back, he had already heard about Jocelyn Payne’s death and wanted to know what I thought about you and her, um, well, being, well, knowing one another.”
Matt twisted sideways with his back against the door to look directly at Olivia. “Wait. He left a message while we were at Xavier’s?”
He stretched to pull out his pen and ever-present notepad from his jacket pocket. “Who is this guy? How would he know about it so quickly? I want to talk to him.”
Olivia spelled Arlo’s name. “That’s not all. Tuesday called me and said she read his latest blog post. He not only suggested that you had,” she hung air quotes, “a relationship with her, but that I killed her in a fit of jealousy?”
Matt smacked the dashboard making Olivia flinch. “How dare he? Send me his website. I’m going to look into this.”
Olivia, nervous about questioning him lest it appear disloyal, nevertheless pressed forward. “Why would he think that? First of all, I think it’s strange that he knows that you and I are a couple. I mean, we’re not popular enough to be in the gossip columns, but what about you and Jocelyn? Do you know her? Where did that come from?”
Matt looked uncomfortable and stammered as he explained. “Well, I knew who she was. We had a call out there a few weeks back. She thought it was a prowler, but it turned out that a tree limb fell and set off the security alarm.”
Matt knew her? He didn’t indicate that at Xavier’s. Olivia tried to recall the scene. Who said what? Xavier identified Jocelyn, and then Olivia confirmed it. No, wait. She recognized Jocelyn first. Xavier may have said something else, but it was total confusion after that. Matt hadn’t said anything about knowing her, she was pretty sure of that. She tried to push away a feeling of unease.
“So he’s making this up? That you and she are . . . ”
Matt didn’t allow her to finish. “Do you doubt me? Do you think I had something going on with her?”
Olivia grabbed his hands and looked directly into his eyes. “No, of course I don’t. But I just want to know how he came up with this. It’s crazy, and of course I don’t believe it. But why you? Why us?”
Matt stroked her palms with his thumbs. It reassured Olivia, reconnecting them after this awful morning that suddenly was trying to drive them apart.
“Olivia, you know my job. I’ve met half the people in Darling Valley. It’s a small town. When things happen that inconvenience them, they call the police at the drop of a hat. We don’t have a big force. I sometimes have to take a call when the other cops are busy, even if it’s minor stuff and doesn’t require a detective. That doesn’t mean I have,” he dropped her hands to carve his own air quotes, “a relationship with all of them.”
Olivia rested her forehead on his shoulder.
She didn’t care who saw them. “Of course not. I know that. It’s just so bizarre.”
She looked into his eyes again, long lashed, velvety brown and edged in hurt and confusion from the accusations. She continued. “Does he have a vendetta against the police department?”
“Olivia, I don’t even know who this guy is. But you can bet I’m going to find out and make his life as miserable as is legally possible. And accusing you? He’s not going to get away with that.”
Olivia collected herself and gathered up the remains of lunch, stuffing them back into Paymoor’s environmentally friendly green paper bag. The cookies went into her purse. “He didn’t actually accuse me, he suggested it. More like a scenario that he posited.”
“Well I’m going to posit something up his . . . “
Olivia pulled on his arm. “Slow down Matt. I’m sorry I had to bring it up, but you would have found out anyway. His blog is popular. Something like this will get around. You have to be prepared for that.”
He sighed deeply, brushing crumbs from his lap and straightening his tie. “I know. Of course, I know.”
“And another thing. This comes from Hot Shot Detective Manual 101. You’re not going to help anybody if you make this personal.”
Matt took a few deep breaths. “I know. I just can’t stand the thought of anyone maligning you. We have to cut this one off at the knees. Right now. Give me his number and I’ll call him.”
“I have it at the office. I’ll text it to you.”
Matt nodded an okay. “I’ve got to go.” He was thoughtful for a few seconds, then said, “I’ll call you if I learn anything.”
Olivia remained in the truck for a few minutes. Why hadn’t he laughed it off? Tuesday said he would. Why hadn’t he kissed her good bye? Who would see them in her truck?
Chapter Seven: Ready For My Close-up
Olivia took a left out of the parking lot, headed home, then hung a U turn and drove back down Darling Boulevard for two long blocks, returning to Xavier’s Gems.
Interrogating the jeweler was Matt’s job. She knew that. But she had a relationship with Xavier that ran deeper than squabbling about favorite soccer teams or what new wine had come on the market. Xavier was always pushing a Malbec on Matt from some friend of a friend’s winery somewhere in the heart of Mendoza, the Argentine wine country. But Matt was a Pinot guy. California, France, South Africa. He didn’t care as long as it was a delicate, aromatic red.
Conversations between Olivia and Xavier, however, burrowed deep into their feelings, yearnings and struggles. Xavier was in his forties, at least ten years older than Olivia. But she knew he saw her as a mother figure, not in age but as a compassionate female friend he’d never really had before. While he grew up in a family with a little money, his mother had “problems.” He never described them fully, except to say that he and his sister and two brothers raised themselves because she couldn’t. Olivia suspected it was due to a dangerous attachment to Argentina’s famed Malbec.
Olivia referred to Xavier as Darling Valley’s recreation director, always getting people together for impromptu dinners at a banquet table at Hugo’s or Victor’s Pizza, or urging them to hang out at the town’s wide, green soccer field on Sundays for a pick up game and picnic afterwards. Anyone who came into his shop was greeted with a glass of champagne, sometimes rich chocolates and funny stories about the latest goings on by Darling Valley’s local characters. Carla, the uptight owner of The Salted Caramel who made it her business to know everyone else’s business, or highly successful restaurant owner Hugo and his incessant complaining about the cost of everything that was bleeding him dry.
Xavier only poked fun at his friends, who returned the favor at every opportunity. He never took liberties with his customers. They were sacred to him and he had an unlimited tolerance for their demands, something Olivia tried to emulate. He also required payment before he would deliver an order, so no one owed him money, which he considered the secret to his success. None of his customers were afraid to look him in the eye if they ran into him at the bar at Hugo’s.
“I’d rather have fewer customers who paid their bills than have to hound the big spenders for payment. They’d hate me for it and I’d lose them anyway.”
Olivia envied this smart business tactic, which she had not yet been able to employ, as her accounts receivables demonstrated. She admired his easy, sweet charm with people, but she also knew the underside of this sociability. Though Xavier knew everyone in town and was liked by all, he’d admitted to her that he’d found it hard to make real friends in Darling Valley where snobbery often ruled. He was successful, but not mega rich. And he was sometimes self-conscious about being merely trade, his business dependent upon the real power brokers in town. Yes, he had achieved financial success, but as he said once, he’d had many beautiful girlfriends, but no true love. He was a deeply sensitive man and wanted a soul mate.
Olivia was not a matchmaker, and they never looked at each other with anything but friendship. But Olivia gave him TLC that he didn’t get elsewhere. Xavier opened himself up to Olivia and that was why she was on her way to see him. Because so did his customers. She was going to ask Xavier questions that would never occur to Matt.
Word of the discovery of a body in the shop spread quickly. She pulled into the rear parking lot, rather than fight her way through a crowd of gawkers in front trying to see the body, the rubble, or just wanting to be close to an event that shook up the staid, tasteful town. Adding to the rubberneckers was a gang of reporters come to sniff out the story.
She knocked on Xavier’s back door and as usual he greeted her with a kiss on each cheek. She wasn’t interested in coffee, but she accepted a cup because she knew it gave Xavier something to distract him from Jocelyn Payne and the chaos of the forensic team that had been tearing his store apart. The police had left for now, but the ominous crime scene tape was still draped over the counters.
“How are you doing, Xavier? This has to be the worst day of your life.”
They were sitting in his small kitchen/utility closet, with the cat up on the counter huddled next to the espresso machine giving Olivia the evil eye.
“Have you named her?”
Xavier pulled the ball of fur into his lap. “Lola. She’s my only comfort today.”
Olivia reached a tentative hand out to pet her, but Lola hissed her away. “Lola. Sounds like she should be doing the tango.”
Xavier chuckled a bit. “I’ll tell Martin.”
Olivia leaned forward to reattach the bandage on Xavier’s forehead. The paramedics had checked him. He wasn’t hurt and didn’t need stitches, but the wound from the glass shrapnel kept opening up and leaking drops of blood.
“I think you need another bandage.”
“Oh, Olivia. That’s not all I need.” He looked up at the ceiling to control a wave of emotion.
Olivia gave him a second, then gently teased his foot with the tip of her shoe. “Tell me, what’s going on?”
He downed his espresso in one swallow, then toyed with the cup. “Well, it seems Jocelyn somehow broke into the shop around midnight and got into one of my safes. I have a big vault in my office, as you know, and two smaller safes. I’ve done so much business with the Paynes that she knew where they were located. One is upstairs and one is under the sink in the kitchen as you know.”
Olivia did know. She had to work around the built-in safes as she planned the remodel.
“I don’t think she had ever been in my office so I don’t think she knew about the vault. It had not been touched. But how did she open the small safe?” He nodded his head to indicate the sink. “That one.”
Olivia added, “And why? She must have a bigger diamond collection than you do.”
She thought she saw a tear glistening in the corner of Xavier’s eye when he said, “Olivia, it’s not just her death that is so upsetting. But I thought Jocelyn and I were friends. You know how I am with my clients. They are like my family. Why would she do this to me?
Steal from me. She is not the good person I thought she was.”
Olivia wasn’t sure how to respond. “How well did you know her?”
He hunched his shoulders. “Oh, you know, she was a bit, what should I say, wild. But I didn’t think she was a thief.”
“What do you mean wild?”
“Olivia, I don’t want to say bad things about her when she isn’t here any more to defend herself. But sometimes I would see her cavorting with men who were not Mr. Payne. It bothered me. He was so good to her and she was deceiving him.”
This revelation sent Olivia‘s voice up an octave. “Xavier! Do you know this for a fact?”
Olivia could tell by the halting way he spoke that it pained him to say this. He took his time, carefully wording his account.
“One time she came into the store to have a watch repaired. It was very expensive and she had to leave it for a few days. When she came back to pick it up, a man accompanied her. I could see through the window that he was driving a pickup truck. He came into the shop with her. He was a workman of some kind. Like a gardener or a carpenter. He wore that type of clothes.”
He pronounced it cloths, his accent again. “I thought that was strange. You know, to need a workman to come with her into an expensive jewelry store.”
Olivia said, “Strange, to say the least. Go on.”
“She didn’t introduce us, so I just went into my workroom to get the watch. I must have come back sooner than they expected. They were keesing.”
Olivia almost sprayed her coffee onto the table. “Kissing? A workman? When she had landed one of the biggest fish in the sea? What was wrong with her?”
Xavier shrugged. “Well, that was what I thought.”
“You told Matt all this, right?”
Xavier frowned. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t want to say bad things because she was dead and couldn’t defend herself. And I didn’t want Mr. Payne to know. On top of her death to learn this? I wouldn’t do that to him.”