by Anne Canadeo
“Do you think Toby weaseled his way in there and took it?” Suzanne asked in a harsh whisper, her dark eyes wide.
“Why are you whispering? He can’t hear you all the way in the garage.” Rose didn’t seem to be mocking Suzanne in any way. She just sounded curious. Which made it all the more amusing.
“Suzanne enjoys a little drama,” Maggie explained. She glanced at Dana. “What do you think? You said before it didn’t look as if he’d gotten into the safe, but maybe this changes things.”
Dana didn’t answer for a moment. She seemed lost in her thoughts. She looked up suddenly and caught Maggie’s gaze.
“I don’t think he found the money. He could never keep a secret. I think it would show in some way if he’d ransacked the house and had a big payday.”
“He would have treated himself to a night out, a steak dinner at least. Instead of scrounging around here for leftover pizza,” Suzanne said.
“It’s flatbread . . . Oh, whatever,” Maggie sighed. “But that’s a good point. And raises an excellent question. Where’s the money she withdrew from the bank? How much was it?”
Lucy had opened the bank statements and shook her head. “These statements won’t show that transaction if it just happened on Tuesday. Maybe we can find a checkbook register or something like that.”
“There’s a drawer full of receipts in the desk,” Dana said. “Maybe I can find it in there.”
“A woman after my own heart. Receipts are so important,” Suzanne insisted. “You never know when one will come in handy.”
Suzanne was a champion receipt saver, as everyone knew. A receipt for a cup of coffee and some streusel bites had even provided her with an airtight alibi when the police were on her tail.
“Look for a withdrawal slip. Maybe she saved those separately somewhere,” Suzanne advised.
“I’ll read these old statements carefully. I’ll make a list of any big cash withdrawals. Maybe there are others,” Lucy said. “Don’t you think the police are doing the same thing, but much faster? Finances are one of the first places Detective Reyes will look in a situation like this.”
“I’m sure that’s true. But the detective didn’t mention any red flags to me. Not yet anyway,” Dana said.
Maggie smoothed her hand over the cover of the gardener’s journal. “I’ll read this tonight and bring it to the shop so you can look at it, too,” she told Phoebe.
“I think we should work on our assignments and reconvene tomorrow morning.” Suzanne glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late. We need to head back to the village soon.”
“Good plan. Let’s meet up at the shop first thing tomorrow.” Maggie handed Dana the jewelry she’d been examining and Dana put it all back in the jewelry box Then stuck the box in her knitting tote, though it didn’t fit very well, Maggie noticed. “Rose and I will stop in early on our way to check on Holly.”
“How is Holly? Is she making any progress?” Suzanne asked.
“I spoke with the specialist again today. He’s hopeful, but her condition is very much status quo. We must wait for her lungs to heal before they can remove the breathing tube and reduce the sedatives. It’s hard to see her like that, but I keep reminding myself it’s for her own good and at least she survived the fire.”
“It could have been worse. A lot worse,” Lucy agreed.
“It’s been only forty-eight hours,” Suzanne reminded them. “Give the woman a chance.”
Rose stared down at the table and rubbed her hands together, which was a technique for self-soothing, Maggie had once heard.
She reached over and touched Rose’s shoulder. “I’m sure Holly will recover in a few days. She’s young and strong and getting wonderful care.”
“I agree,” Dana said in a decided tone. Whether for Rose’s benefit or her own, Maggie was not sure. “The best thing we can do now is hold positive thoughts. And a prayer or two wouldn’t hurt, either.”
“Not one bit,” Maggie agreed.
The dogs in the parlor began to bark, and everyone at the table was instantly alert. “Someone’s coming,” Rose said. “It must be Toby. I’d better settle the dogs down.”
Maggie could see she was frightened of her half brother. That was not good for her at all.
Rose ran to the dog parlor, and Suzanne jumped up from her chair. “Hustle, you guys! Pull out some knitting. Get busy . . . Hide that jewelry box, Dana. I can spot it a mile away.”
Dana struggled to hide the box better. She covered the top with a few skeins of purple yarn from her project, then slipped the bag under the table.
Maggie tried to exchange her knitting and needles for the journal, but the corner of the book got caught on something, and it wouldn’t slip down in her bag. As heavy footsteps approached, she yanked it again and sat on it.
As the door swung open, the group was a picture of sedate female companions, each of them wielding knitting needles, with pleasant smiles fixed on their faces.
“Hello, everyone. I didn’t know you were having a meeting here tonight.”
Maggie released a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. She turned and smiled at Dana’s husband, Jack, who had just come in from a long day at work.
Jack was in his mid-fifties, with thick silver hair and warm brown eyes. Maggie knew he was a sharp attorney, but he also very kind and had a way of lightening even the heaviest conversation with a spark of humor. He’d been on the local police force many years before moving to a career as a lawyer. He knew the system well, and his many connections around town kept him informed. Though so far, if he’d offered Dana any inside news about the investigation into the fire and Holly’s attack, she had not shared it with her friends.
Which, in Maggie’s mind, amounted to the fact that Jack had not heard anything yet.
Dana rose to greet him and kissed him on the cheek. “Just finishing up. Did you have anything to eat tonight?”
“I grabbed something at the office. Don’t let me interrupt. I want to visit with Rose a little. Helen Forbes has agreed to represent her. She just sent me a text.”
Dana looked happy and relieved, and Maggie felt sure the rest of her friends shared the reaction. “Good news. Thanks so much for reaching out to her, honey.”
“Not a problem. I know she’ll do a good job. I spoke to Detective Reyes, and this track of the investigation, honing in on Rose, worries me,” he admitted. “I’m hoping some new lead pops up and turns them in a different direction.”
“The right direction,” Maggie added.
“It’s so unfair. It makes me so upset,” Dana admitted. “Rose had nothing to do with Holly’s attack or the fire. We’re lucky she wasn’t hurt, too. All this so-called evidence, it’s totally circumstantial.”
“You know what they say, my friends. ‘The truth will out.’ ” Suzanne glanced around the table and patted her knitting bag.
Maggie understood her meaning. Maybe they’d found some new leads in the safe, in the bank statements and the letters. Even the gardener’s journal might turn up a clue.
By tomorrow morning they could have some important news to bring to Detective Reyes. Some breakthroughs that no one could have foreseen or imagined.
Chapter 9
Maggie arrived at the shop just before eight on Friday morning. There was a distinct touch of spring in the air, and she loosened her muffler and opened her jacket as she headed up the path. The beds cried out for a spring cleanup. The persistent, green leaves of tulips and daffodils poked through hard, dark soil and clumps of dead leaves.
T. S. Eliot had famously written, “April is the cruelest month.” But Maggie did not agree. March seemed far more unkind with its rough winds and bouts of harsh, cold rain. Though not exactly cruel, either.
Unless you were a bulb or a seed, she mused, annoyed at being forced to wake up and grow. One that preferred to stay dormant, buried in the cold, dark earth. She knew that feeling, too, reminded of the contents of the safe and the secrets they may have dug up.
Perhaps some that would be better left buried?
Once inside the shop, she hung up her sweater coat and put the coffee up. Then took the gardener’s journal from her knitting bag and set it on the worktable.
She’d stayed up very late the night before, sitting in her favorite armchair and studying the notations. She had read the book through at least two times and had even marked a few spots with yellow Post-it Notes.
Charles had gotten up from a sound sleep to fetch her, then had guided her stumbling steps to their bed. A comforting gesture, Maggie had to admit. She’d felt very cared for.
The innocent-looking tome had made for interesting reading, and Maggie had formed a few theories about the cryptic entries.
But once they were together a short time later, Suzanne was the first to speak. “Lucy and I already compared notes,” she began. “Holly had some weird spending habits lately.”
Lucy jumped in to clarify, leaning forward in her chair. “You gave us statements from the past three years. In the older records, there’s the same pattern of income and withdrawals for supplies, payroll, and shipments of plants. Things like that, which she mainly paid for by check,” Lucy explained. “The cycle starts this time of year and gradually tapers off around October. Over the winter, she barely spends a dime for the business.”
“But this past winter, Holly’s been withdrawing big lumps of cash every few weeks from the business account,” Suzanne continued. “She even drew a credit line against the property. What was she spending it on?” Suzanne looked around at her friends. “We know it wasn’t wild weekends in the Caribbean.”
“And it’s way too much for dog food,” Lucy added. “Even for that pack.”
“Interesting,” Maggie said. “The timing coordinates with the gardener’s journal. I also noticed quirks in her record keeping.”
Suzanne had brought a box of mini muffins from the bakery. She claimed that oat bran was healthy, but it looked decadent enough to Maggie. Maggie sliced off a bite and ate it very slowly. She needed a little sugar today to jolt her awake, she rationalized.
“What sort of quirks?” Dana asked. She peered at Maggie over a mug of tea.
“It reads very much like a typical gardening record. At first. But look at the entries for last winter.” Maggie flipped the pages to those marked with yellow stickers. “She starts talking about a bug attacking the rosebushes, then notes a remedy, a solution of pesticide, and various dates and amounts she’s applied. And keeps complaining she can’t get rid of it.”
“What’s so odd about that? Maybe a bug did attack the roses,” Lucy said.
“In November and all through the winter? Roses are attacked in the spring or even the summer. She can’t seem to get rid of it, no matter what she tries. ‘Pest lingers. Applying stronger remedy twice this month.’ And she has some numbers jotted down, which would typically mean the ratio of ingredients in the insecticide, but I think they mean amounts of money.”
Lucy quickly flipped through the bank statements, which she held in her lap. “What was the date on that?”
“That was January twentieth, about two months ago,” Maggie replied.
Lucy had found the appropriate statement and quickly scanned it. “I do see two withdrawals that month, one on January eleven and another two weeks after.” She looked up and met Maggie’s gaze. “I think we’re getting somewhere.”
“I think she was being extorted or blackmailed,” Suzanne said. “What else could it be?”
Maggie didn’t want to say it aloud, but another possibility came to mind. “An addiction? Gambling, drugs?” She glanced at Dana. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound harsh. From the little I know of Holly, I sense that’s highly unlikely. But we can’t rule it out entirely. Or maybe she was trying to help someone with that sort of problem?”
“I understand. It’s only logical to consider those possibilities.” Maggie could see Dana was upset, and who wouldn’t be? It was a difficult conversation.
“As Suzanne said last night, ‘The truth will out.’ But sometimes it’s not a pretty sight,” Phoebe said quietly.
Dana looked troubled. “I’m fairly certain that Holly did not have a drug addiction or a gambling problem. But after reading the letters last night, I have to wonder if she was being blackmailed.”
“Why would someone blackmail Holly? What would she have to hide?” Suzanne said.
“Maybe you don’t want to tell us. Maybe it’s too private.” Lucy glanced at the others, her gaze silently urging them to slow down and give Dana some space. Anyone could see this was a very difficult reckoning for her.
Maggie felt the same. She could see her dear friend Dana struggling, torn between sharing the truth she’d discovered and violating Holly’s privacy. Which seemed to be the unexpected cost of trying to help her godchild.
Dana released a slow breath and looked up at them. “I will tell you. But it can’t go beyond this room. Not yet.” She reached out and rested her hand on the packet of letters. “I mentioned last night, Holly was writing to her boyfriend Jeremy Carlson, who was in prison for vehicular manslaughter and driving while intoxicated. There were also mitigating circumstances and grounds for an acquittal. The accident investigation by the police showed that the motorcycle driver had passed the car on a curve and had gone over a double yellow line. The motorcycle driver had some drugs in his system, as well. But Jeremy had an inexperienced lawyer, too, appointed by the court, who didn’t defend him very well or even try to cut a deal. It was clear that the DA was out to make an example of him. The maximum sentence for the crime is fifteen or even twenty years, and I think that’s what he got.”
Maggie was interested to hear the full story of the accident. Until now those details had not been disclosed. But she did wonder where this was leading.
“The thing is,” Dana continued, “even though Holly and Jeremy never say it outright, I can tell that Holly was driving the car the night of the accident, but Jeremy took the blame. They met in the woods a few miles from the house. Holly didn’t realize it, but Rose had followed her. Of course, they had to bring Rose home. Jeremy had been drinking, so he gave Holly the keys to his car. The road was dark, and it began to rain . . . You know the rest . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“And since Rose didn’t remember anything afterward, they were free to make up their own story?” Maggie asked.
“That’s right,” Dana said quietly. “I don’t want to judge Holly. All these years, hiding this secret . . . The burden must have been overwhelming. When you read the letters, it’s clear, she and Jeremy truly loved each other. They had plans to run away together before the end of the summer, to live in New York and study acting.”
“While her parents thought she was going to start college in Vermont,” Lucy said. Maggie recalled Dana had told them about Holly’s intention to attend college. But that seemed to be her parents’ plan for her future and not her own.
“That’s right. Who knows what would have happened if there hadn’t been an accident that night,” Dana replied. “But I do understand now why Holly has never dated anyone for very long or been in any serious relationships since.”
“She never got over Jeremy.” Suzanne tossed her hands in the air and then picked up another mini muffin. “The guy gave up his life to protect her. If that ain’t true love, I don’t know what is.”
“He was thinking of Rose, too,” Dana added. “He knew that George and Ava were overwhelmed by Rose’s injuries and talked about a facility for special care. But Holly was fighting to keep Rose at home and had to be free to care for her.”
“Maybe he asked Holly to meet him that night, so he blamed himself for the whole thing,” Lucy said. “Even if he wasn’t driving, he felt responsible.”
“That seems to be true, and it shows great character, I think,” Dana said.
“He must have been in jail for years. Did she write the whole time?” Lucy asked.
“Not at all. Only for the first few months. He cut off all conta
ct and told her to forget him. He wanted her to live a good life.”
“Poor Holly. Poor Jeremy . . . poor Rose,” Phoebe sighed.
“And poor Dana,” Maggie wanted to add. To discover that someone she held so dear had kept this dark secret to herself all these years . . . Maggie was sure that Dana was not angry with Holly. Nothing like that. But clearly shaken and shocked, and maybe even hurt that Holly had never confided in her.
“This is big, Dana. Especially when you factor in the cash withdrawals from her bank account. Maybe Jeremy got out of jail and wasn’t feeling that noble anymore. Maybe he’d grown bitter about all he’d done for the Pipers, and wanted some cash compensation?” Suzanne said around a mouthful of muffin.
Lucy gazed at Dana with a sympathetic expression. “I was thinking the same thing. Do you have any idea if he’s been released from prison?”
“I have no idea. I have to look into it,” Dana replied.
“I can help. I’ll do a search. If he’s been released, I can also find out where he ended up,” Lucy said.
Lucy was very adept at internet research. They often teased her that she must have been a librarian in a former life.
“Would you? I’m not sure where to start, and if I ask Jack about it, he’ll ask me a lot of questions. I’m not sure I’m ready to talk to him about this. He’s an officer of the court. Learning that Holly was driving the car and gave false testimony after the accident could create all sorts of problems for him, too.”
“Oh dear. That’s right. We don’t have Jack to help us out on this,” Maggie murmured.
“If Jeremy Carlson wasn’t extorting money from her, I’m stumped,” Suzanne said. “I can’t imagine that Holly told anyone. She kept the secret in a safe. How did they figure it out?”
Lucy stood up; she seemed restless. Dana’s discovery had disturbed everyone. “I know this sounds far-fetched, but what if Jeremy told someone in prison? A buddy or a cellmate? That person could have tracked down Holly after they got out of jail and been exploiting her.”