by Bobbi Holmes
“Mrs. Mitchell, would you please keep your voice down!” he scolded.
“Do you seriously think I’m trying to scam the bank?” Danielle asked, her voice calm.
“Ms. Boatman, I don’t know you. I have no idea what you’re trying to do. Perhaps you put your gold coins somewhere else and just think you put them here. Perhaps you have another safe deposit box?”
“Actually, I have two—both here.”
“And your other box? I assume you checked that?” he asked.
“Yes. I keep a valuable necklace in the other box.”
Kissinger smiled. “And was it still in the safe deposit box?”
“Yes,” Danielle said coolly.
“Ms. Boatman, if someone had broken in to the safe deposit boxes—and mind you, I checked them as soon as Mrs. Mitchell expressed her concern, and nothing has been tampered with—why would they leave behind a valuable necklace?”
“I don’t know.” Danielle pulled her phone from her purse.
Kissinger frowned. “Who are you calling?”
“Who I should have called the moment I realized the gold coins were missing, the police chief.”
“Chief MacDonald, it would be impossible for any of our employees to open Ms. Boatman’s safe deposit box without her key.” Mr. Kissinger turned to Danielle, who stood between Susan Mitchell and the chief in the safe deposit vault room. “Was the key ever out of your possession?”
“No. But the gold coins are missing,” Danielle retorted. “So obviously, someone opened my safe deposit box and took my coins. I’m sure there is a duplicate key out there.”
Kissinger let out a weary sigh and shook his head. He looked to the chief. “It doesn’t work that way; you know that, Chief MacDonald. And as you can see, these boxes have obviously not been tampered with.”
“Then explain the missing coins,” MacDonald said.
“As manager of this bank, I have no knowledge of the contents of Ms. Boatman’s—or the contents of any of our customers’ safe deposit boxes. The contract Ms. Boatman signed when she rented a box from us clearly spells out the limits of our liability.”
“Your own employee remembers what I put in the box,” Danielle reminded him.
Kissinger looked to Susan. “You saw Ms. Boatman put the gold coins in the box?”
Susan nodded. “Yes.”
“And the box never left your sight after that?” Kissinger asked.
Susan started to say something and then paused. She glanced from Danielle back to the bank manager. “I did step out of the room for a minute. I was only gone for a second.”
“And when you returned, was the box open or closed?” Kissinger asked.
Susan frowned, considering the question a moment. “It was closed, I think.”
Kissinger arched his brows. “You think?”
“Yes…it was closed. But it was really heavy. I remember that,” Susan insisted.
Kissinger shook his head and looked from Susan to the chief. “What we have is an employee who thinks she remembers the box was heavier when she held it weeks ago.” He looked to Danielle, his expression unfriendly. “What are you trying to pull, Ms. Boatman? An insurance claim?”
“Insurance claim? I think that would first require I have insurance on the coins.”
MacDonald looked quickly to Danielle. “They weren’t insured?”
“No. I didn’t see the point.” She glared at Kissinger. “I foolishly thought they would be safe here. And since I planned to sell them right away, I didn’t see the point of getting insurance.”
“You were supposed to see the coin collector today, weren’t you?” MacDonald asked.
Danielle pulled her cellphone out of her purse and glanced at the time. “I was supposed to meet him here about ten minutes ago.” Danielle shoved the phone back in her purse. “I guess I need to go out front and see if he’s waiting for me.” Heading for the doorway, she glared back at Kissinger and added, “I’ll have to tell him they were stolen from the bank.”
“You can’t do that!” Kissinger shouted, heading for the door. MacDonald reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
Angrily jerking his wrist from the chief’s hold, he glared up into MacDonald’s face. “Are you going to let her just go out there and slander me? The bank?”
“I know Danielle very well, and if she says the gold coins were in that safe deposit box, I believe her. And frankly, I’m surprised how you’re treating your bank’s largest depositor.”
Kissinger frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Susan cleared her throat. “Technically speaking, Ms. Boatman is no longer the bank’s largest depositor, not since Mr. Johnson—”
“Mrs. Mitchell, you know better than to discuss our customers’ business with anyone—including the police chief. At least not without a warrant.”
The chief looked at Susan. “I forgot; Chris mentioned he was transferring a few million here from the Glandon Foundation. If he’s a larger depositor than Danielle, he must have transferred more than a few million.”
“He was here yesterday,” Susan whispered, earning her a harsh glare from her boss.
Kissinger looked from Susan to the chief. “What is this about Ms. Boatman being our largest depositor? I’ve never heard of her until today.”
“I told you about her last week when we were going over the list of major depositors. She’s the one who owns Marlow House,” Susan reminded him.
Kissinger frowned. “I thought her last name was Marlow?”
MacDonald shook his head. “No. Her name is Boatman. The last Marlow died almost a century ago. And from what I understand, Danielle deposited a good chunk of her money here—despite the fact it won’t all be federally insured due to the amount. But she was trying to be a good neighbor and supportive of the bank. I assume that will probably change now, with the missing gold coins. And considering Chris Johnson is a close friend of Danielle’s, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’ll be transferring his recent deposit out of your bank.”
The chief studied the new bank manager and was fairly certain the man’s peachy complexion had just turned a sick shade of green.
Shaking his head in denial, Kissinger groaned, “This can’t be happening.”
“I think we need to all go back to your office—and not touch anything in here,” the chief began. “I’ll talk to Danielle, convince her not to say anything about the missing coins—until we can investigate.”
“Yes…yes…but hurry, before she says something,” Kissinger said frantically.
Pulling his cellphone from his pocket, MacDonald dialed Danielle.
“What, you can’t walk out here to talk to me?” Danielle said when she answered the phone a moment later.
“Have you talked to the buyer yet?”
Kissinger and Susan silently listened to MacDonald’s side of the conversation.
“No. He isn’t here yet.”
“Have you said anything to anyone about the missing coins?” MacDonald asked.
“Who would I have talked to? I just left you two minutes ago. That new bank manager is a major jackass, by the way.”
MacDonald eyed Kissinger before responding to Danielle on the phone. “Yes, yes, he is. But I don’t want you to say anything to anyone about the missing coins—not yet.”
When MacDonald got off the phone a few minutes later, Kissinger asked, “What did she say?”
“Aside from expressing her opinion that you’re a major jackass, she agreed not to say anything just yet.”
Susan bit her lip in her effort to keep from laughing over the chief’s words. Noticing her attempt to stifle her amusement, MacDonald flashed her a wink and then proceeded to make another call.
“Who are you calling now?” Kissinger asked.
“I’m having one of my men come over here to stand guard. I don’t want anyone to touch anything in here, not until the FBI arrives and takes over the investigation.”
Three
Police Chief
Edward MacDonald walked Danielle out to her car in the bank parking lot. Officer Henderson and several other officers had already arrived to secure the crime scene.
“I just wanted to explain why I’m calling the FBI in on this,” MacDonald told Danielle as he opened her car door for her.
“You do believe me when I told you I put the coins in the safe deposit box, don’t you?”
“Yes, certainly. I just think it’s for the best,” the chief explained.
“I suppose I understand.” Danielle started to get into her car.
“I also need to tell you something else,” he said hesitantly.
Instead of getting into her vehicle, Danielle turned to face the chief, the open car door between them.
“What?”
He let out a sigh before continuing. “Samuel Hayman is back in town.”
“He’s out of jail?” Danielle scowled. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised he’s out. It’s been almost a year, and he did make a plea deal. What I’m surprised about, that he came back to Frederickport.”
“It’s his hometown.”
“Sure, but his business is closed. What’s he going to do? I didn’t even think he owns any property here anymore. Where is he going to live?”
“When he was apprehended with your diamonds and emeralds, he was carrying what was left of his inventory—which had been bought and paid for and was legally his. I imagine had he not entered a plea deal, most of that would have been burned up in legal fees.”
“Yeah, and it would have obviously been a waste of money. He didn’t even serve a year for drugging my cousin and stealing the Thorndike gems. His actions left her vulnerable and got her killed. He should have spent a lot more time behind bars!”
“I agree with you, Danielle.”
“So what is he going to do, open his jewelry store again?”
“I don’t think he has the resources to reopen. That’s why he did what he did in the first place, out of desperation.”
“You don’t expect me to feel sorry for him, do you?”
“Certainly not. I’m just saying he can’t afford to reopen, or he wouldn’t have closed in the first place. From what I was told, one of his friends who owns a restaurant offered him a job. It’s menial work, but it is work.”
“If he can’t open his store again, why doesn’t he go somewhere and get a job with another jewelry store and use his skills?”
“Think about that, Danielle; what reputable jewelry store would want to hire him with his record?”
She flashed MacDonald a weak smile. “I suppose you’re right. Thanks for warning me. It would have been rather unsettling to run into him around town, not knowing he was out.”
Alan Kissinger stood in the open doorway leading to his office and glanced around the bank, observing the activity. He stood there a moment in silence. Finally, he stepped back into his office and closed the door behind him, locking it. Taking a seat behind his desk, he started to pick up the office landline, but quickly changed his mind. Instead, he removed his cellphone from his pocket and placed his call.
A moment later Dave Sterling answer the phone.
“Dave, we need to talk…” Alan began.
Four
Danielle had just pulled her red Ford Flex into the side driveway at Marlow House when her cellphone began to ring. After parking the car and turning off the engine, she grabbed her phone out of her purse and looked at it. Chris was calling.
“Hey, Chris,” Danielle answered as she removed the key from the ignition and continued to sit in the car.
“What happened to your safe deposit box?”
“That was quick. Who called you?” Danielle snatched her purse from the passenger seat and opened the car door while tucking her cellphone between her left shoulder and chin so she could continue her call.
“I just got off the phone with the buyer. Said the minute he walked into the bank, you told him there was an issue with your safe deposit lock, and you’d have to reschedule. Are you having second thoughts about selling?”
Danielle stepped out of the car, her purse now hung over her right shoulder. Slamming the door shut behind her, she took the phone in her left hand, still holding it by her ear, and started walking toward the back door leading into the kitchen. “This is just between you and me, Chris, I promised the chief I wouldn’t say anything just yet. But the box was empty.”
“Empty? What are you talking about?”
“Empty as in no coins. Oh, I take that back. It had a shamrock.”
“Shamrock?”
“One of those foil shamrocks used for Saint Patrick’s Day decorations. Susan said it probably came from the bank’s storage room.”
“I don’t understand.”
Now standing on the back porch, Danielle paused. She could see one of her guests sitting at the kitchen table, talking to Joanne.
“Hey, Chris, can we talk about this later? I need to go in the house, and I really don’t want to discuss this in front of my guests. Maybe you can come over?”
“I’m at the office right now.”
“On a Saturday?”
“I’ll speak to my boss about the lousy schedule.”
Danielle tittered and then suggested, “Maybe you can stop by on the way home.”
“Okay. But first let me know—are we talking bank robbery here? Were all the boxes hit?”
“I don’t think so. The Missing Thorndike was still in its box.” Danielle glanced at her purse. “At least it was.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I brought it back to Marlow House with me.”
When Danielle entered the kitchen, she greeted Joanne and her guest and then excused herself, explaining there was something she needed to look for in the attic. On the way there, she ran into Lily, who was just coming downstairs.
“Come with me,” Danielle whispered to Lily when they were about to pass each other on the staircase.
Holding onto the handrail, Lily paused. “Where are we going?”
“I want to talk to you…and Walt.”
With a shrug, Lily turned around and followed Danielle back up to the second floor and then to the attic, where they found Walt reading a book. At least, Danielle found Walt reading a book. Lily simply saw a book floating in the air over the sofa.
“You do realize we have guests in the house,” Lily said as she closed the attic door behind her.
“I can hear if anyone is coming,” Walt said, closing the book and setting it on the sofa next to him.
“He says he can hear anyone coming up,” Danielle told Lily. She then pulled up a chair for Lily to sit on while she took a seat on the sofa next to Walt.
“So what did you need to talk to us about?” Lily asked.
“Did you close the deal on the coins?” Walt asked.
“They were gone,” Danielle blurted out.
Lily frowned. “What do you mean they were gone?”
“The coins—gone. The box was empty.” Danielle then proceeded to tell Lily and Walt about her morning at the bank. When she was done, the three sat silently for a few moments.
Finally, Lily spoke. “So what are they going to do?”
“The chief’s calling the FBI. Brian arrived at the bank just as I was leaving. The chief wants to make sure nothing is disturbed before they have a chance to check things out. From what I understand, the place is under surveillance cameras, so I imagine that’s one of the first things they intend to do—look at the film.”
Lily frowned. “They still use film?”
Danielle shrugged. “I don’t know. Digital maybe. Whatever.”
“But why the FBI? I would think the chief would want to handle this himself. Thought local cops like to do their own investigation?” Lily asked.
“I think this is sort of a gray area. From what I understand, bank robberies are typically under the jurisdiction of the FBI; for one thing, deposits are insured by the feds.”
Lily frowned again. “I thought safe depo
sit boxes weren’t insured?”
“They aren’t. Which is why this is sort of a gray area. Plus, I think the chief is uncomfortable taking this by himself since we’re such good friends.”
“Why would that matter?” Walt asked.
“For one thing, the new bank manager insists I never put the coins in the safe deposit box.”
“Are you serious?” Lily gasped.
“Pretty much. Although, by the time I left the bank, he was more civil. The chief told me he didn’t realize who I was.”
Walt arched his brow. “And exactly who are you?”
Primly, Danielle said, “One of the bank’s largest depositors.”
“You sure as heck don’t intend to keep your money there? Do you?” Lily asked angrily. “Dang, I need to find a new bank now too!”
“What about the Missing Thorndike?” Walt asked.
“Oh…that…” Danielle opened her purse and removed the pouch holding the necklace.
Lily eyed the familiar pouch. “You brought it home with you?”
“I couldn’t very well leave it at the bank.” Danielle opened it and pulled out the necklace. Its diamonds and emeralds glistened.
“Ahh…it is so beautiful…” Lily said with a sigh as she reached out for the necklace. Danielle handed it to her. She sat back on the sofa and watched as Lily slipped on the necklace while admiring it.
“I figure I can keep it in the safe here…and Walt can give it added security,” Danielle explained.
“You don’t seem overly upset about losing the gold coins,” Walt observed, sitting back in the sofa. His gaze shifted from Lily, who sat admiring the necklace she wore, to Danielle, who continued to sit next to him. With a wave of his right hand, a thin cigar appeared. He took a puff.
Danielle propped her feet up on the small coffee table. “I’m more curious about where they went. I wasn’t even sure they were legally mine until a few weeks ago. I was going to give the proceeds of the sale away anyway, so personally, it doesn’t really hurt me. But I do want to know what happened to them. They didn’t just up and walk away on their own.”