by Bobbi Holmes
Danielle stood by the front desk of the Frederickport Police Station and gave Melony a hug.
“I really appreciate you coming down here. That was really sweet of Adam to think of it.”
“Hey, I’m more than happy to be of help.” Melony grinned. “How could I not after Adam said you were a rich client who was always getting herself in trouble, so I could make a bundle.”
Danielle laughed. “Did he really say that?”
“Actually, he was sincerely worried about you. But yeah, he added that after I told him I would come.”
Danielle laughed again.
Melony grabbed her right hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze as she said, “And remember, if those FBI agents want to talk to you again, you call me first. I don’t want you talking to them without me there. You aren’t out of the woods.”
Danielle nodded. “I understand.”
“You going home now?” Melony asked as she reached for the door.
“No. I want to talk to the chief first.”
Pausing at the doorway, Melony glanced down the hallway leading to the chief’s office. “I saw him going in there with those two agents.”
“I know. I’ll wait out here.”
After Melony left, Danielle took a seat in the front waiting area of the police station. Earlier, when her cellphone had been returned, she was told about the 911 call at Marlow House. After the chief had told her all he could—considering they had an audience—she phoned Lily, who confirmed most of what the chief had said.
Danielle waited patiently for her turn to talk to the chief in private and was surprised when Brian walked into the office with Alan Kissinger, who seemed clearly annoyed and unhappy to be there. She would have expected him to be boasting a smug smile, assuming he had been told about the gold being found—with her. But he wasn’t smiling, and when he walked past her, he didn’t notice her sitting there.
“I don’t understand why you had to drag me down here; I already know you found the gold coins and that I was right—Danielle Boatman never put them in her safe deposit box. I’m going to advise the bank to sue Ms. Boatman for damaging the bank’s reputation with her false claims.”
“Please sit down.” Agent Thomas motioned to the table in the center of the interrogation room. In the next room, looking through the two-way mirror, was Agent Wilson, Brian and the chief.
Annoyed, Alan slammed down in the seat and glared up at Thomas.
Calmly, Thomas removed photographs from a file he carried. He sat them on the desk. “Do you know these people?”
Alan looked at the photographs and shook his head. He was telling the truth. They looked faintly familiar, but…
“No. I don’t.”
“How about these two.” Thomas removed two more photographs from the file and set them on the tabletop.
Alan stared at the pictures. Saying nothing, he swallowed nervously.
“Well? Do you?”
“Umm…yes…that’s David and Stephanie Sterling.”
Thomas sat down across the table from Alan. “So tell me, how do you know them exactly?”
“David is my cousin,” Alan explained.
“Really?” Thomas reached over and pushed the first two pictures closer to Alan. “You might want to take a second look at the first pair. Same people. Your cousin and his wife seem rather adept with changing their identity.”
Alan shrugged. “Stephanie used to be a makeup artist in Hollywood. Sometimes she likes to dress up.” He looked up from the photographs. “What is this about?”
“I see you and your cousin have been talking a lot on the phone.”
Again, Alan shrugged, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Like I said, he’s my cousin.”
“I assume your cousin came to town to visit you?”
Alan shook his head. “I didn’t know they were in town.”
“Really? Yet you talked to him every day—sometimes two or three times a day.”
“I really don’t know why I’m here. Would you please just tell me so I can leave.”
“Your cousin and his wife are in lockup right now, waiting for their attorney to arrive.”
Alan’s eyes widened. He said nothing.
“But you might want to talk before they do, or they might just blame this all on you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My cousin is under arrest? Why?”
“For trying to steal the Missing Thorndike, of course. After their attorney gets here, they might decide to throw you under the bus for a lighter sentence. Of course, that’s only if they make the deal first.”
“This is ridiculous. Am I under arrest? Because if I am, I demand to see my attorney. If I’m not, I demand to be released.”
“We know you worked with your cousin to take the gold out of Danielle Boatman’s safe deposit box. We don’t know how you did it exactly, but it’s only a matter of time before your cousin tells us. After all, his fingerprints are all over Boatman’s necklace. It’s not going to take long for your cousin or his wife to realize telling us how you did it is preferable to going to jail for a botched jewelry heist.”
Alan stood abruptly. “Am I under arrest?”
Thomas eyed Alan. “Not yet.”
“Then I am free to go?” Alan asked curtly.
“Yes, I suppose you are.”
Without another word, Alan Kissinger turned abruptly from Thomas and headed for the door.
Thirty-Seven
Guilt had prevented Joyce Pruitt from getting a good night’s rest. Since Danielle’s visit to see Gran, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Danielle had told her about the coins not being insured. It was one thing to keep the coins, knowing Danielle would be reimbursed. After all, it wasn’t like they were treasured heirlooms; Danielle had intended to sell them anyway. Joyce figured this way, both her and Danielle could profit from the treasure. After all, insurance companies were rich; it would mean nothing to them.
Knowing Danielle hadn’t insured the coins changed everything. Joyce liked Danielle; how could she steal from her? But then Joyce remembered that Danielle was a wealthy woman. Would she really miss the coins? A couple months ago, Danielle hadn’t even known they existed.
Joyce kept going back and forth—keep them—give them back. Whatever she intended to do, she couldn’t leave them at their current hiding place indefinitely. Once Adam was finished with the repairs of number six beach cottage, it would be rented for the summer, and the new tenants would be using its beach hut.
While wrestling with her dilemma, Joyce ran errands. The first stop was the pharmacy to pick up Gran’s prescription, and then she had to stop at Frederickport Vacation Properties to pick up her paycheck. She pulled into the pharmacy parking lot. Just as she was about to get out of her car, another vehicle drove in and parked next to her. Joyce waited for the driver of the other car to turn off his engine before she exited her vehicle.
She was closing her door when the driver from the other car—who had just got out of his vehicle—said, “Joyce?”
Joyce turned to the driver and for a moment was speechless. It was Samuel Hayman.
“Sam?” Joyce said hesitantly, walking toward him as he walked toward her.
“Hello, Joyce. How have you been?” he said, sounding as hesitant as she had a moment before.
“Umm…I’m fine. When did you get back?”
Sam smiled sadly. “I just got back in town last week.”
Joyce thought he looked much thinner than the last time she had seen him. She imagined prison did that to a man. His clothes were baggy and she suspected they were probably something he had worn before his arrest last year—when he was heavier. Still clean shaven, his curly brown hair was shorter than he had normally worn it. Despite the dark circles shadowing his eyes, he was still a pleasant-looking man. She remembered he had straight white teeth, but he wasn’t smiling in the same way he normally did, so she couldn’t see them.
“You look good.” She didn’t sound convinci
ng.
Samuel smiled, showing off those straight white teeth she remembered. “No, I don’t, but it is sweet of you to say so. I might as well acknowledge the elephant in the room. I am out of prison. I decided to come home. I didn’t know how much I would miss this place until I was locked up for the last year. And you will never imagine how much I regret what I did.”
“We all make mistakes, Sam. And I’m glad you came home.” Impulsively, Joyce reached out and gave him a hug.
When the hug ended, his smile broadened. “Thank you, Joyce, you have no idea how much I needed that.”
“Well, I am glad you came home,” she insisted.
“How is your mother?”
Joyce shrugged. “The same. Never changes. Still demanding.”
Samuel laughed and then asked, “And your kids?
“Good. They all still live in town.”
Samuel let out a sigh. “You’re lucky, Joyce.”
His comment caught her by surprise. “I am?”
“Yes. You have a family and home. I have a lot of regrets these days. On the top of the list, not having a family by now. But the choices I made, well, I understand I’ve made it much more difficult for myself to have the future I once envisioned.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Sam. You paid your time. Look at this as a new beginning.”
“You’re sweet, Joyce. Just promise me, if you ever stumble across a million-dollar necklace and think it would be just so easy to take—no one would find out or get hurt—step away.”
Joyce couldn’t get Samuel’s words out of her head as she drove to the offices of Frederickport Vacation Properties. She was still thinking about them when she stepped into the office a few minutes later and found Leslie sitting at the front desk.
“Hi, Joyce. You here to pick up your check?” Leslie asked brightly.
“Yes, I am.” Joyce looked nervously to the back of the office and the hall that led to Adam’s office.
Just as Leslie was handing Joyce the envelope with her check, she said, “Oh, I just remembered! Adam wants to see you.”
“He does?”
“Yeah. You can just go on back.”
When Joyce came to the open doorway leading into Adam’s office a few minutes later, she found him sitting behind his desk. Standing by the open door, she knocked on the door jamb, waiting for his permission to enter. He looked up and waved her in.
“Leslie said you wanted to see me?” She approached his desk.
“I was wondering if you’ve seen the hut key for number six beach house?”
Joyce frowned. “The hut key?”
“I went over there earlier today and it wasn’t hanging where it normally is in the kitchen. I know we’ve been having workers going in and out of there for weeks. I was just wondering if you might have seen it when you were over there cleaning, or maybe moved it somewhere?”
Joyce shook her head. “Umm…no…you want me to go over there and have a look?”
“Nah, that’s okay. I have a copy; I just wondered where it went.”
After Joyce was finished talking to Adam, she stopped by Leslie’s desk again and whispered, “Do you know why Adam is looking for the hut key for house six?”
Leslie glanced back in the direction of Adam’s office, then leaned toward Joyce and whispered, “Just between you and me, someone broke in to hut six.”
“Broke in? What was taken?”
“That’s just it. Nothing was taken exactly.” Again, Leslie’s eyes darted toward the hallway leading to Adam’s office as she leaned closer to Joyce. “You know that gold that was taken from the bank?”
Wide eyed, Joyce nodded. “What about it?”
“It was found in that hut! But here’s the kicker—Danielle Boatman found it!”
Joyce frowned. “Danielle?”
“She’s been arrested by the FBI. I overheard Adam talking about it. He sent his friend Melony Jacobs over to the police station to help her; she’s an attorney.”
“I don’t understand. Why would Danielle be arrested? The gold belongs to her.”
“Because they believe she faked the bank robbery and then stashed the coins in the hut. I think that’s why Adam is looking for the key. He’s trying to find who took it, hoping it will prove someone else hid the coins in the hut. But Danielle could have easily gotten a key when she visited Adam. He keeps them in his desk.”
“Danielle arrested?”
Leslie nodded. “That’s what it sounded like. But please, don’t say anything.”
Joyce had been sitting in her parked car in front of the Frederickport Police Department for thirty minutes, debating with herself on how to proceed. She didn’t want to go to jail, but she couldn’t live with herself if Danielle did.
Why didn’t I run into Sam last week, before I found those stupid coins? Joyce asked herself, thinking of Samuel’s words on poor choices made.
Joyce sat there another ten minutes until she finally worked up the courage to do the only thing she could do. With a sigh, she grabbed her purse off the passenger seat, removed her cellphone, and dialed the number.
“Frederickport Police Department,” came a woman’s voice.
“I need to speak to Chief MacDonald,” Joyce said into the phone.
“He’s with someone right now. Can I help you, or would you like to leave a message?”
“Please tell him it’s urgent. Tell him Joyce Pruitt is calling, and she has personal knowledge about who put Danielle Boatman’s gold coins in hut six. And it wasn’t Danielle Boatman.”
They brought her to the interrogation room. The chief explained she needed to speak to Special Agent Wilson, as he was in charge of the bank investigation. Joyce was not happy. While Leslie had mentioned the FBI involvement, she had hoped to discuss the matter in private with the chief first—she knew and trusted him and hoped he might be willing to help her. However, he did promise to be with her when she spoke to Agent Wilson.
Sitting at the table in the center of the interrogation room, her hands folded atop the table, Joyce’s heart hammered in her chest. She watched as the chief and Agent Wilson sat down at the table with her. Brief introductions had already been made, but the loud noise in her head made it difficult to focus on anything beyond what she needed to say.
“Chief MacDonald told me you have personal knowledge on who put the gold coins in the hut. Who do you believe put it there, and how did you come across the information?” Wilson began.
“I put them there,” Joyce blurted out.
Wilson stared at her. “You put it there? How did you get the coins?”
By the tone of Wilson’s words, Joyce knew immediately he didn’t believe her. He thinks I’m one of those nuts who confesses to crimes.
“Maybe you should start at the beginning,” MacDonald said gently, ignoring Wilson’s question.
Joyce took a deep breath and smiled up at the chief. “My mother and I have a safe deposit box at the bank. After we read in the paper about the missing coins, Mother insisted I go to the bank and clean out our box. When I opened our safe deposit box, it was filled with the gold coins.”
“They were in your safe deposit box?” Wilson asked incredulously.
Joyce nodded. “Yes. On top of our things. When we rented a box, Mother insisted we rent the largest one, even though it wasn’t necessary.”
“Do you remember the number of your safe deposit box?” MacDonald asked.
Joyce nodded and gave him the number.
He looked at Wilson and said, “I think that’s near Danielle’s box, or very close to it.”
“So you just took the coins?” Wilson asked.
“I know I was wrong. But they were there in my safe deposit box…and…and…well, I wasn’t thinking straight.” She looked up at Wilson and said in a rush, “But I didn’t take any of them. What Danielle found in the hut was all of them, honest.”
“How did you know about Danielle finding the gold coins?” Wilson asked.
“I clean ho
uses for Frederickport Vacation Properties. After I found the coins, I took them with me. I wanted to hide them until I could decide what I should do. I remembered no one was at beach house six. I didn’t want to leave the gold in the house, not with the workers coming and going, but I knew no one would be going to the beach hut, so I took the key and hid the coins there.”
“How did you know about Danielle finding the gold coins?” Wilson repeated the question.
“When I picked up my paycheck at the office today, Leslie, who works in Adam’s office, told me about Danielle finding the gold and how she had been arrested. I knew what I had to do. I couldn’t let Danielle go through this, especially when she had done nothing wrong. I was the one who did something wrong. I’m here to face my consequences.”
Joyce was allowed to go home, but she was told not to leave town. Wilson joined MacDonald in his office and waited quietly until the chief got off the phone.
“Susan Mitchell verifies Joyce’s story,” MacDonald said after he hung up the phone. “Joyce got into her safe deposit box after the coins went missing. Susan remembers it was heavy. She made a comment to Joyce about it at the time. But she never saw what was in Joyce’s safe deposit box.”
“The question now, how did the gold coins get from one box to another?” Wilson murmured. “And why?”
The chief had his own ideas, but he wasn’t going to express them.
“This convinces me of one thing,” Wilson said as he stood up.
“What’s that?”
“It was an inside job. And I have a good idea who was involved.”
“Who?” McDonald asked.
“Kissinger, of course.”
Thirty-Eight
David Sterling sat with his attorney at the table in the interrogation room with Special Agent Wilson. His attorney, Mr. Burls, had just arrived from Portland.
“As I mentioned before,” Mr. Burls said, “I demand you release my client’s wife immediately. You admitted yourself she was found locked in the downstairs bathroom at Marlow House when you found her husband upstairs. Obviously, whoever set up my client locked his wife in the bathroom to keep her out of the way.”