Two O'Clock Heist: A Rebecca Mayfield Mystery (The Rebecca Mayfield Mysteries Book 2)

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Two O'Clock Heist: A Rebecca Mayfield Mystery (The Rebecca Mayfield Mysteries Book 2) Page 17

by Joanne Pence


  “Money for what?”

  He rubbed his fingers against his jaw. “She needed to buy some clothes to look ‘right,’ as she put it, plus money to pay for a meal in an upscale restaurant. The amount she asked for was reasonable, more than reasonable.”

  “Where and when did the meeting take place?”

  “It was some hillside restaurant in Sausalito. I don’t remember the name. It’s a local place, not a tourist trap. And expensive.” He rifled through his calendar. “As I recall, she said the meeting would take place the Monday before last.”

  “In other words, about four days before she was killed.”

  He paled. “That’s right. I never heard from her again after that, I swear.”

  “Did anyone else know she was working with you?”

  “No. Oh, wait. I mentioned to the Sausalito PD that a local woman might have some information about the thefts, that she contacted me about a possible reward. But I never gave her name.”

  Rebecca’s breath quickened at the words. “Who did you tell?”

  “The detective in charge of the investigation. I think his name was Wong.”

  She nodded. The news wasn’t exactly unexpected.

  o0o

  Richie was leaning against the BMW when Rebecca left Schoenberg’s office. “Any luck?” he asked.

  She had given up being surprised by the places he showed up. “Yes. The theory we—you—came up with last night is correct,” she answered. “Tell me, do you know much about Sausalito?”

  “Enough.”

  She should have known Richie wouldn’t limit his travels to San Francisco. “Can you think of a hillside restaurant overlooking the bay that’s pricey and used more by locals than tourists?”

  “I sure can. Remember the woman whose jewels were stolen, Marlena Carbini?”

  She nodded.

  “It’s her place. The Alta Vista. I don’t know any other that meets that description.”

  “How do you feel about another trip to Sausalito?” Rebecca asked. “I’ve got some questions for her.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Before going to the restaurant, Richie drove Rebecca back to his house. As they entered the garage, a black SUV driven by the ABC liquor investigators pulled onto the driveway.

  Richie was about to push the button to shut the garage door on them when the one named Waddey sprang from the vehicle, waving a slip of paper and said, “Uh, uh.”

  “What’s that?” Richie stepped out of the garage. Rebecca joined him.

  “We have a warrant to search these premises for illegal liquor.”

  “Illegal liquor?” Richie turned to Rebecca. “And here I thought Prohibition had ended. Aren’t we lucky that our government is here to protect us from something so heinous?”

  She couldn’t help but grin at his sarcasm. Still, she worried about the ABC men’s reaction to Uncle Sil’s wine. Richie hadn’t explained anything about it to her, but she could put two and two together.

  Waddey and Hutchinson wandered into the garage and looked around. When they didn’t find anything in it, Hutchinson said, “Let’s see the inside of this place.”

  They went up the stairs from the garage to the house and as they opened the door to the kitchen, they heard Spike bark and growl.

  “Control your dog!” Waddey insisted, pulling the door shut.

  Rebecca marched past him into the house and picked up Spike. She wanted to bare her fangs at the men as well.

  They searched thoroughly, but found no unlicensed liquor.

  “We will be back,” Hutchinson said as the two men went back down the stairs to the garage and out the door.

  “It’s been a pleasure,” Richie answered. He pressed the garage door button.

  As soon as the door shut all the way, Rebecca faced him. “Where did you hide Uncle Silvio’s wine? I know we were drinking it.”

  He walked over to the water softer tank, opened it, shoved aside some salt pellets and pulled out a bottle. “Our city water is soft enough. I don’t even have this thing plugged in, so I use it as storage from time to time.”

  Rebecca was speechless.

  Richie poured them both a glass of Uncle Silvio’s finest. “I’d seen those ABCers lurking around and knew I’d better get the wine out of the house, except for a few bottles for my own use. I came up with an idea for what to do with them.”

  She shook her head. He was either incredibly lucky as far as his timing went, or he must have an army of confidential informants. She preferred not to know. She held up her wine glass. “Salute.”

  “Salute.” He clicked his against hers and grinned. “When you speak Italian, it’s very sexy.”

  o0o

  Rebecca thought she would never tire of crossing the Golden Gate Bridge at sunset when the sky over the Pacific would turn a multitude of orange and purple hues. At the Alta Vista, she and Richie took an outside table that looked out on the Bay. Between the setting, the sky, and the water, Rebecca couldn’t imagine a more beautiful evening.

  Their dinner began with a lobster bisque and warm sourdough bread, fresh from the oven. Richie’s main entre was a mixed seafood grill, while Rebecca had a Crab Louie. Richie also ordered an expensive bottle of Amarone from Venice. They were half way through the meal when, as Richie expected it would, the wine caught the owner’s attention.

  “Richie! I should have known you were the one with the wonderful taste.” A woman strode towards them, her wildly curled and crimped gray hair in frizzled disarray around her head. “How nice to see you again. How do you like the Amarone?”

  “Beautiful, just like you,” Richie said as he stood and greeted her with a hug and a kiss, then introduced Marlena to Rebecca.

  “He’s such a silver-tongued devil.” Marlena said to Rebecca, although obviously thrilled by Richie’s compliment.

  He asked her to join them. “Marlena was one of the people who lost some jewelry in the recent thefts,” he explained to Rebecca.

  “Is that so?” Rebecca already knew that, but feigned surprise.

  “I never wear it anymore,” Marlena said, dropping into a chair. “I’m allergic to gold and silver, but that doesn’t mean I want people to steal my things.”

  “Of course not.”

  Richie explained that Rebecca was a detective looking into the thefts, and discovered that a lead might exist within the Alta Vista. “Do you have any security cameras?”

  Marlena put her arms around Rebecca’s and Richie’s shoulders and pulled them in close. “I don’t like to make it known because our customers do expect us to be discreet,” she whispered, “but we have cameras watching the front desk and the parking lot.”

  “Great!” Richie said softly. “Maybe after our dinner, you can let us see what you have for the Monday before last. Everything, but especially the evening hours.”

  Marlena let them both go and rubbed her hands gleefully together. “This is so exciting. I have no idea how to work the equipment, but Lew will set it up for me. He’s home doing nothing, anyway. Dessert is on the house. We have some wonderful crème brûlée just made tonight—fresh, creamy, and melt-in-your mouth. With it, you’ll like our Italian roast caffè, perhaps with a splash of Amaretto?”

  “Perfect,” Richie said.

  It was, too, Rebecca thought when the dessert arrived. She was finding everything blissful--the food, the wine, the service … her dinner companion. Why, she wondered, did every little thing she did in Richie’s company seem brighter, more colorful, even more fun, than what happened at other times of her day?

  Was she under some evil spell that caused her to be so interested in him? Or did something about him bring out the devil in her?

  Before long, the waiter told them that Ms. Carbini was ready whenever they wanted to see her.

  Richie stood and took a wad of cash from his pocket to pay the bill, then peeled off a couple of hundreds followed by several twenties. Someday she might get used to the amount of money he had and not feel guilty about what she
was costing him.

  The waiter brought them to the back of the restaurant, and then across the parking area to another building. It was Marlena’s house. It was wooden, small, and quite old. Anywhere else it would have been considered for tear-down. In Sausalito, it was seen as quaint, charming, and expensive.

  Richie and Rebecca met Lew, a scruffy fellow with long, gray hair, the latest in Marlena’s string of lovers.

  Everyone sat in front of the computer screen while Lew started up the digital security footage. It began with the camera over the front desk. Since Rebecca had some experience looking at surveillance film, she controlled the speed. She went through it at a good clip until she saw what she was looking for and stopped the recording.

  “Oh, God!” Her cry was involuntary. She hadn’t realized how much it would hurt to see her friend looking so alive or, frankly, so gorgeous in a black V-neck sheath, black four-inch heels, and dangling gold earrings.

  “Are you okay?” Richie asked, putting his arm around her shoulders.

  She nodded, her jaw tense, and then went back to the film.

  Karen had entered the restaurant alone. Ten minutes later, a man entered, also alone. His hair was long and bushy, and he had a thick mustache. Somehow, he managed to never turn in such a way that they got a good look at him, as if he was well-aware of the camera’s presence.

  Marlena knew the names of some of the people who arrived at the restaurant, but the man was a stranger to her. He seemed vaguely familiar to Rebecca, but she wasn’t sure why. They continued to run the footage, and watched Karen leave the restaurant alone. Soon after her, the man also left.

  “This is maddening,” Rebecca said. “Why can’t I place him?”

  “He’s careful to keep his head down, for one thing,” Richie said. “And he’s kind of familiar to me as well. He must be from the city. Someplace we’ve both been.”

  “Your club?” Rebecca suggested.

  “Possibly, but I don’t think so.”

  They then went to the footage from the parking lot. Karen drove off in an old Chevy Malibu, but the man must not have had a car in the lot because they never saw him drive away.

  “That could mean he’s local,” Marlena said. “And just walked here from his home. Or, he parked down in one of the big lots by the water and walked up to the restaurant.”

  “At least we have an idea of who to look for,” Rebecca said. “Could Lew print a couple of stills for us?”

  “Sure,” Marlena said. “Also, it’s ridiculously short notice, but there’s another big party tomorrow afternoon. It’s supposedly a fundraiser for the Mill Valley Ballet being given by Buffy and John Fillmore. Trust me when I say the fundraiser is just an excuse. The Fillmores are known for their somewhat, um, excessive parties. The donation cost is a bit steep, but—”

  “For a good cause,” Richie offered, while Rebecca wondered what an “excessive” party might be.

  Marlena continued. “Everyone will be there. The home is on Belvedere Island. Extremely private.”

  “Sounds like my kind of party,” Richie said, facing Rebecca.

  “The type where burglaries happen,” Rebecca added with a nod.

  Marlena looked from one to the other. “Absolutely.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Rebecca hated shopping, but since she didn’t want to stand out like a sore thumb at the garden party, while Richie slept the next morning, she headed to the Stonestown mall for an appropriate dress to wear.

  The night before, he had gone out shortly after they arrived back at his house, saying he had a few things to take care of before the next day’s party. She decided to work on her Homicide reports while sitting up in bed, but before long fell asleep and didn’t even hear him come in.

  When she arrived back at Richie’s house with her Nordstrom’s bags, she found him in pajamas, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “I thought you’d be at work,” he mumbled groggily.

  “It’s Saturday.”

  “That’s never stopped you before.”

  She handed him the San Francisco Chronicle. “I saw it out on your front steps.”

  “Thanks.” He went straight to Sports.

  “I noticed you have bacon and eggs in the refrigerator,” she said. “Would you like some? I haven’t eaten yet and I’m hungry.”

  He gawked at her. “Are you kidding?”

  “I can fry an egg.”

  “Sure you won’t burn down the kitchen?”

  She opened a lower cabinet and took out a heavy frying pan. “Are you sure you want to go there?”

  He chuckled, but then his laughter vanished. “On second thought, I did see a cooked prime rib in the refrigerator.” He studied her, then added. “For a minute, I thought I was in the wrong house.”

  She put the frying pan on the cooktop and added some bacon slices as she remembered how excited she had been to do something nice for him for a change. Whatever had she been thinking, trying to prepare him a big dinner like some little Suzy Homemaker? “It was nothing,” she murmured, but feared her tone said otherwise.

  “I’m sorry I missed it,” he said.

  She met his gaze. “Me, too.” As she then turned her attention to breakfast, she told herself cooking bacon and eggs was a far cry from a big dinner.

  The party would begin at two that afternoon, but Marlena assured them it would continue well into the night. Those who showed up to support the fund-raiser would leave early, and the fun lovers would party on.

  As it came time to go, Rebecca put on her new purchases—a turquoise floral cotton print with turquoise high-heel sandals. She also had bought a small white clutch, large enough for her cell phone, badge and gun.

  She walked out to the living room to find Richie dressed in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, khaki-colored slacks and brown loafers. Simple but elegant. Especially when he added a gold Piaget watch.

  Richie walked around her, making her more uncomfortable with each step he took. Finally, she couldn’t take it any longer. “You hate it, right? It’s absolutely the wrong thing to wear today.”

  “No. I was just looking for your tattoos.”

  “Hah! If I have any, you’ll never know.”

  “You’ve just put my imagination in overdrive. And, you should come up with reasons to wear dresses more often. You look beautiful.”

  She was pleased, but said, “That, I’m not.”

  He studied her a moment longer, his head slightly cocked and a small smile on his face. “Right. Who am I to judge?”

  She didn’t know what to think. “Shall we go?”

  “Wait.” He took a jewelry case off the coffee table. “These are my mother’s. She would want you to wear them.”

  He opened it to a diamond pendant on a platinum chain, and matching earrings.

  She gasped. “Are they real?”

  “Silly girl.”

  “I couldn’t possibly wear them. What if I lost an earring or something?”

  “They’re insured. People at parties like this have an eye for real diamonds.”

  She took the jewelry into the bedroom she was using, then removed the inexpensive pieces she wore, and used the mirror over the dresser to put on the earrings. Richie helped with the necklace’s clasp. She then brushed her hair back so that the diamonds could be seen.

  It was as if someone had thrown a spotlight on her.

  “Bellissima,” Richie whispered. He stood behind her and looked at her in the mirror. Also peering into the mirror, her eyes met his. He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders. “I think I’d much rather stay right here with you. Why share you with anyone?”

  She smiled at that, and fingered the pendant. “Thank your mother for me … when you tell her that I wore these. But now”—she faced him—“we’ve got a job to do.”

  o0o

  Buffy and John Fillmore lived in a jaw-dropping, two-story Colonial style mansion near the water with a view of San Francisco. Rebecca and Richie were directed through a bright, ope
n great room to the rear garden. Its lawn stretched nearly to the water’s edge. A full bar was set up near the house, while sprinkled throughout the garden were tables laden with food, and shaded by white canvas canopies.

  Marlena found them and walked them through the crowd, introducing Richie as owner of Big Caesar’s in San Francisco and Rebecca as simply “his date.” Richie was pleasantly surprised by the number of people who had not only heard of, but had gone to his club. No one inquired as to how Rebecca made a living. They were all too discreet for that.

  After a while, she excused herself and asked directions to the ladies room from their hostess, a friendly, attractive woman who looked no older than thirty, at most. Richie knew Rebecca was checking out the place, probably to find the most likely spot for the Fillmores to keep a safe.

  As the day wore on, the number of guests dwindled, and several moved inside the house. More and more of them grew glassy-eyed, and it didn’t appear to be solely from liquor.

  Richie was refilling his and Rebecca’s non-alcoholic drinks when he froze at the guest who just entered.

  He hurried back to Rebecca. “Keep out of the garden. Larry Wong is out there. I think it’s best if you two don’t see each other.”

  “What in the world is Wong thinking, attending a party like this?” she asked.

  “He’s certainly is a fish out of water here,” Richie said. “And he’s got to turn a blind eye to everything that’s going on. There are enough drugs here to make the state of Colorado jealous.”

  “Nothing like inviting local law enforcement to make sure you don’t get arrested,” Rebecca murmured.

  “I’ll try to see what he’s up to,” Richie said.

  Rebecca frowned. “And I’ll keep an eye on the master bedroom. That wing of the house is off limit to guests, so I suspect it’s where the jewels are. The bedroom has a door, locked, that opens out of it to a patio on the far side of the house—perfect for sneaking in and out undetected. Plus, there’s no sign of added security in this house. I thought the Fillmores might have hired some with the jewelry thefts going on.”

 

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