The Marquesa's Necklace (Oak Grove Mysteries Book 1)
Page 17
We met the girls for supper at the Flamingo. Freddie was there too, with Sarah. I enjoyed getting out from the watchful eye of Mr. Stangel and relaxing a little. We made quite a fun little party out of supper. Even Freddie seemed to be enjoying himself. But when the alarm on my phone went off at 8:45, I stood to leave.
“It’s been fun, ladies,” I said, picking up my bill. I grabbed Elijah’s too. “But I have to run. See you around.”
While my friends protested, I worked to ignore the look of puzzlement on Elijah’s face. He stood up too, and followed me to the door.
“You can stay if you want. I’m sure one of the girls would be glad to take you back to your car,” I told him when we got outside. “But I have a date with my T.V. There’s a show I need to catch.”
“Can’t you record it?”
“No TiVo. And my VCR broke a few months ago.” I looked at my watch. I only had five minutes to get home. “You coming or staying?”
Elijah went with me. I got home with barely a minute to spare. So I let him park Dolores while I rushed upstairs and turned on the set. The opening credits had finished when he joined me on the loveseat. “So what’s the show about?” he asked.
“Big time jewelry heists. And the necklace, or one just like it, is the star of the show. Popcorn?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I remembered why I hated to watch television. Commercials. Without commercials, the show would’ve been forty minutes long, instead of an hour. More like thirty minutes without all the teasers for what was coming up later.
At least I had good company to share my misery with. Elijah hated commercials as much as I did. To fill the time, we made a drinking game out of mocking the ads and finding every cliché they used. Probably not a good idea, because we were both a little tipsy by the time the part about the necklace finally came on. At least the announcer, who had a deep, sexy, voice made the long wait almost bearable.
“Up next, the mystery of the Marquesa’s necklace,” the man intoned as a picture of my necklace flashed on the screen. “Right after this.”
I put down my beer and grabbed a handful of popcorn. “Finally,” I said. “We’re getting to the good part.”
“That’s the necklace?” Elijah asked, leaning forward.
“Or its twin.”
He took a deep breath. “How’d Jake manage to steal that and not get caught?”
“We should find out as soon as this batch of commercials gets done.” I’d given up on our game. It was tough to sit still while waiting for the information that might give me my life back.
Eight minutes later I pushed the button on the remote and turned off the TV. “Talk about a disappointment,” I said. I finished off the last few chugs of my now-warm beer.
Elijah stared at the now-blank screen. “A lot of build-up over nothing,” he agreed.
“All we know is that at some time in the past year or two, the real necklace got switched for a fake. From a locked exhibit case.” I grimaced. “A well-made fake, but a fake. Who’s to say what Jake tried to give me wasn’t an imitation as well?”
“But if it was an imitation, he would’ve told me by now.” Elijah poked at the box of postcards, pushing them across the coffee table. “And if it wasn’t real, why did those goons think it was? No, it had to be authentic.”
“So we’re back to the four hundred thousand dollar question.” That’s what the show pegged the value of the necklace at. “Where the hell did he stash it?”
I rose on unsteady legs, reached for my empty beer mug, and lost my balance. Instinctively, I put my arms out to cushion myself when I hit the floor.
Elijah grabbed me, dumping the postcards on the floor in the process. It took my mind a minute to catalog the mishap, because it short-circuited when his arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me close. When I looked into those pale blue eyes, I was sure he was going to kiss me. I even tilted my head ever so slightly to make it easier for him.
A look of pain flashed across his face. He didn’t kiss me. Instead, he sighed and asked, “Are you okay?”
Embarrassed, I nodded and pulled away, staring down at the floor. I wondered what percentage of the cards had landed picture up vs. message up. So many pictures of old houses. Too bad Jake never got to restore his. Only he called it ours.
Shit.
The house.
Somewhere I had a key for it. No telling where the key had gotten to since the last time I saw it. My apartment had been searched several times since then. The junk drawer in the kitchen was the most likely spot, however.
I lived for a short time in an apartment that didn’t have enough drawers in the kitchen to allow me to have one for junk. I hated it, and it was one of the primary reasons I moved out. Well, and the fact that the upstairs neighbor’s hobby was clogging.
I was tossing extra batteries and assorted screwdrivers onto the counter when I sensed Elijah behind me.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“The house.” My flashlight barely missed his hand as I pitched it out of my way. The key was well hidden, if it was in the drawer at all.
“What are you talking about?”
“The house,” I repeated. “It has to be in the house. Jake always said our future was in the house. I just thought he meant the money he’d make when he sold it after restoring it.”
“Wait a minute.” He grabbed me and spun me around and studied my face. “You think Jake stashed a stolen necklace worth close to half a million in an old, run-down house?”
Run down, but with lots of potential. And Jake had a vision of how to bring it back to its original beauty.
“Yes.” I turned back around to dig some more, and finally found what I’d been looking for. I held the key up triumphantly. “We just have to find it.”
The electricity at the house had been shut off long ago, so I shoved the flashlight into my pocket before sweeping everything else back into the drawer. “Are you coming with me?” I asked as I pushed the drawer closed. It took several tries because things never fit back in the same way.
“We’re not going tonight, Harmony.”
I tried to shove him out of my way, but he was planted like a hundred-year old oak, and stronger than me.
“It can wait until morning.”
“But I can’t.” I tried to squirm my way past him, but he blocked me. As I was trying to figure out what self-defense move might work to get him out of my way, he grabbed the key from my hand.
“You shouldn’t be driving tonight. Neither should I. So I’ll catch a cab back to the hotel, and be back first thing in the morning.”
He had the key raised high over his head, out of my reach. I wasn’t about to jump up and down like a little kid trying to get it. The logical part of my brain said he was right anyway. But the emotional part jumped to a whole different place.
“Why don’t you spend the night here? That way we could get an early start in the morning.”
I swear the expression on his face was one of longing. But he stuck the key in his pocket and walked over to pick his coat up from the coat rack. I’d made a fool out of myself twice within fifteen minutes. A record.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said as he opened the exterior door. “Don’t leave without me.”
Like I could. He had the key.
I fumed as I prepared for bed. I brushed my hair so vigorously my scalp hurt. What right did he have to tell me what I could or couldn’t do? This was my life, not his. And I knew I was right about the necklace being at the house. I even knew where it was.
One day Jake and I were exploring the house when all of a sudden he disappeared. The car was still outside, but he was nowhere to be found. I’ll admit, I panicked a little, and ran from room to room, calling his name.
I stood in the smallest of the bedrooms, gazing at the ceiling, trying to figure out if he had somehow pried open the hatch and crawled into the attic, when I heard him laughing.
“Asshole!” I said as I pu
lled open the closet door. He reached out and pulled me inside with him. The air smelled musty, and the closet lit only by what little sunlight filtered in from the window in the room, but I didn’t care. I was in his arms and he was kissing me.
“Look what I found,” he said when we got done. It took a while. He pointed out a spot near the door frame where the wall hadn’t been plastered. “That would make a great place to stash some extra cash or something. No one would ever find it there.” I always thought it was funny his mind worked that way. Now I know why.
That was also the day he showed me how to get into the house if I ever lost my key.
I tried, I really did. I crawled into bed, pulled up the covers, snuggled into my pillow and everything. But even with all the alcohol I’d drunk, sleep evaded me. I may have dozed off for a few minutes here and there, but eventually I gave up trying and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
And instead of going back to bed, I curled up on the loveseat with my laptop to do some casual surfing. But the postcards lay scattered on the floor, taunting me with their pictures. Waiting for Elijah to show up wasn’t going to work.
While a pot of coffee brewed, I got dressed. As I drank a cup, I collected the things I would need. Flashlight, screwdriver, and a wedge to prop the back window open. At the last minute, I added a candy bar to my canvas bag. I believed in being prepared, and I might not get any breakfast.
I pulled my heavy winter coat out of the closet and put it on. The frost on the front window sparkled in the rays of the porch light. I pulled my keys out of my purse and tossed it into the canvas bag as well. With my cup of coffee in one hand, I used the other to drop the keys into my coat pocket and open the front door.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Going somewhere, Harmony?” Elijah asked casually. He looked up at me from about halfway down the stairs.
I feigned a yawn. “Did you notice if the paper was here yet?” I walked down to meet him. Tactical error. I should have remained higher up than him and out of his reach.
He grabbed my arm. The coffee sloshed over the edge of the cup, but I kept a firm grip on it. “Since when do you need a coat to get your paper?”
“It’s chilly out here.” And getting chillier. The cold glare from his eyes was enough to freeze a pot of boiling water.
“You were leaving,” he snarled.
“And I still am. It’s almost daylight.” In fact, the sky to the east glowed with the promise of sunlight and the stars were fading. I pulled my arm free and continued down the stairs. I stopped at the bottom. “So are you coming with me or are you going to stand there all day and wait for me to get back?”
Maybe I’d pushed him too far. He stomped down the steps to stand beside me. The noise that came from his throat sounded more like a growl than a sigh. I wanted to giggle, but I restrained the urge, and headed towards the garage with him close behind.
A few light flakes of snow fell as we walked the short distance. I really needed to buy that blanket for Dolores, but she started without a hiccup or complaint. Better than Elijah. He frowned at me from the passenger’s seat and I pretended to ignore him. Neither of us said a word until I pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store, and even then he just raised one eyebrow at me in question.
“Batteries,” I said. “And a coffee refill. You want some?” Caffeine might improve his mood.
He nodded sourly and started to open the door on his side.
“I can handle this without any help.” I opened my own door.
He ignored me and climbed out of the Jaguar. So I ignored him. And continued to ignore him as I wandered around the store, looking for batteries. The prickling sensation at the base of my skull told me he was keeping an eye on me. I pretended not to care, but in reality, it irritated the heck out of me.
It didn’t get any better when I went to check out. He was so close behind me his breath tickled my neck. I was tempted to back up and bump into him, hopefully causing him to spill his coffee. But that would only delay the trip to the house so I didn’t.
Besides, in the mirror behind the counter, it looked like he held a box of doughnuts. I hoped he meant it as a peace offering. I waited just inside the door for him to pay, and even held the door open for him. A doughnut to go with my coffee sounded better than the candy bar I’d stashed in my supplies last night.
I made an exception to my no-eating-food-in-the-car rule for the doughnuts. Sure, we might drop a few crumbs, but they would be easy to vacuum. I watched the traffic in my mirrors—not that there was much of it this early—and although once or twice I spotted a familiar-looking car, I didn’t detect anyone following us.
The house stood near the top of one of the many hills in and around Oak Grove. Unlike the rest of the neighborhood, it sat in the middle of several lots, which gave it a big yard and plenty of room between it and its closest neighbors. Much of the original gingerbreading had disappeared over the years. Jake and I debated whether to try to find a craftsman to make matching pieces to replace what was gone, or tear out what remained and start from scratch. We never made a decision.
Despite the fact that Dolores’ heater was running, I shivered as I pulled into the driveway and the headlights illuminated the broad front porch. I’d never seen it in the dark. With only the beginnings of sunlight to soften the darkness, it was easy to imagine ghosts flitting from room to room.
Elijah was halfway out of the car with the key in his hand before I even turned off the engine. At least we wouldn’t need to crawl in through the back window.
“Aren’t you coming?” he asked.
“In a minute. It’ll be easier to unlock the door if I keep the headlights shining that direction.” The few spare moments would give me time to steady my nerves.
I took my time walking up the stairs, pretending to adjust the focus on my flashlight. Elijah handed me my key, and I shoved it in my pocket. As long as Jake’s bank didn’t know I had it, I wouldn’t tell them. Inside, I took a moment to scan the front room with the flashlight. For some strange reason, I wasn’t in a hurry, even though I knew where I needed to go.
My plan made it sound all so easy. Get the necklace, call the newspaper, and present it to Freddie in a front of their reporters and anyone else I could call to get down to the police station in a hurry to act as witnesses. The bad guys would see the news, and I’d have my life back. Still, I hesitated, searching for any flaws in the concept. Only one came to mind—I’d be losing Elijah. When this was over, he’d be gone.
Once I’d delayed as long as possible, I started my way up the front staircase, Elijah following close behind. The room I needed was at the end of the hallway. The smaller of the two rooms on the third floor, it overlooked the back yard, and probably served as a nursery when the house was built. Jake said he would turn it into my office.
In a way, I wished I could be alone for the moment. I wanted to be able to wear the necklace one more time. Keep it for a day or two before I turned it over to the proper authorities. As much trouble as it caused me, I deserved to enjoy the feel of it gracing my neck.
I could feel the ghosts staring at me as I slowly walked down the hallway. Anytime now, one would pop out of the plaster walls and grab the flashlight. I’m not normally the kind of person to believe in ghosts, but there was something different about this house.
I researched its history when Jake bought the place. The house had been built by Harold, the son of one of the original settlers in Oak Grove, Joseph Aldridge. During the Pennsylvania oil boom Harold had made big money. When he got married in his mid-forties to a much younger wife, he had the house built as a wedding present to her. Their plans, according to the reports I dredged up, were to fill the house with children. Unfortunately, Harold died in an accident in the oil fields while his wife was pregnant with their first child. She raised the child alone and never remarried, so the big house remained mostly empty. Other families lived in the house after that, but it hadn’t been occupied for years.
I took a deep breath, yanked opened the door, stepped inside the closet, and turned around. I flashed my light towards the door frame, expecting to see the brilliant sparkle of jewels twinkle back at me. Foolish of me, because the necklace had come in a velvet lined wooden box. Tentatively, I reached into the empty space behind an exposed stud, praying that no spider had taken up residence there.
And found nothing.
“Fuck.”
Elijah stuck his head in the closet. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s not here.” I pushed him out of the way as I exited the small space. “I was so sure.”
Elijah grabbed the flashlight out of my hand and went in to look for himself. “It would make a good hiding spot,” he said when he rejoined me. “But nothing’s there.”
I sighed. “God damn it, Jake,” I said. “Where the hell did you put the fucking necklace?”
“We should check the closets in the other rooms.”
I hated it that Elijah made so much sense. I wanted to throw a tantrum—stomp my feet, punch the walls—and as long as he was with me I couldn’t. So I played the grownup and nodded. “You’re probably right. Let’s go check.”