by Penny Brooke
“Who else would steal it or know she had it?”
“Elliott.”
“Elliott?”
“That’s right. She and he are roomies at the motel at the edge of town. They’re a pair, but I won’t speculate the exact definition of that term. Anyway, if she had the pendant, Elliott would know, and he’d take it away from her. She’s hot-tempered and an alcoholic. He looks after her and would take the pendant for safekeeping. So, I think she doesn’t have a clue about the relationship between the two pieces, nor did she take the necklace. She came for the crystal ball, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she thinks it’s ordinary glass. I might be the only living person who has witnessed its power.”
“This is all too spooky for me. Look, give me the pendant, so I can return it to the museum exhibit and get these people off my back. They get the necklace, the insurance company keeps their money, and I will conveniently forget about the case until the next carnival comes to town.”
I pointed to the bag. “I know, you’re probably right. It’s in there. I’ll go in the back and get you a small box and some tissue for packing. Then you’d better head straight for the office and lock it up. To tell you the truth, I want it off my hands, too. There’s something odd about it.”
I walked toward the back when I heard Peter shout. I turned and hurried toward him. He was holding the bag.
“It’s gone!”
“No, it can’t be. I’m the only one who has handled it. Sylvia knew it was here; she saw it on my bed when she was putting away clothes. But, I personally carried it down here and locked it in the safe.”
“Well, it’s not there.”
I took the bag from his hands, lifted out the crystal ball, and felt all through the bag interior. Peter was right. The pendant was missing again.
“Fiona…?”
I shook my head. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not blaming this on me again. Remember what happened last time? I told you it was in the bag but you can’t prove it any more than I can. It was coming back to you, but someone spirited it away again. I just don’t understand. There’s nothing disturbed in the back room; the doors are solidly locked. The safe is intact, and the crystal ball is in there. If it had been Marlena, she would have taken the ball. The only people who understand the value of the two together are me, you, and Fred.”
“And just what do we know about Fred?”
I bristled at his doubt. “I worked for the man for years. Believe me, I’d trust him with my life. If he was a thief, he’d have had many opportunities to lift things from the crime scenes. He’s the most honest man I may possibly know.” I didn’t look Peter in the eyes when I said that. I wasn’t excluding him, I was just making an emphatic point about Fred.
I put the ball back in the bag and went to lock it in the safe again. Peter was still sitting in the chair, looking at some random point in space and thinking when I returned.
“I just don’t understand,” Peter said. “You have logically ruled out the most obvious person—Marlena. You’ve also made good points about Elliott and Fred. Well, I was never serious about accusing him, but we had to air the thought. Who does that leave?”
“Henry.”
“Why would Henry steal it if his insurance is paying off the museum? He can’t fence it. What would he do with it? Besides, he’s a bit of an odd man, if you get my drift. Tempest is his home and where his business is. The town is his family. Would he really give that all up to lie in the sun somewhere in the islands and drink margaritas?”
I shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I don’t know. For a while, I thought he gave it to Marlena… you know, like a token of love to sway her feelings. But, as we’ve both agreed, she doesn’t have it, which means he would have kept it. It just doesn’t make sense, though. Henry isn’t the type. To be honest, between you and me, he’s a bit of a Casper milquetoast. He’d be scared to death to try and pull something like that off.”
“Then who else is there?”
“You and me. That’s it.”
“And Mrs. Markham.”
“Sylvia? You’re not serious.”
“Hey, everyone is a suspect until we rule them out otherwise, and you did say she knew the necklace showed up and that you’d put it in the safe again.”
I shook my head. “This just simply doesn’t make sense. Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now. The pendant was here, and now it’s gone.”
Peter’s reaction was not as passive as I’d hoped. “I’m afraid, dear Fiona, that you do have some responsibility here. The entire mystery seems to be centering around you. You’re the one who solves mysteries so well, special powers or not. Don’t you think it’s your civic responsibility to get to the bottom of this? After all, your reputation and that of Mortimer House is on the line.”
“What? How do you figure?”
“All of this started when you let the carny people stay here.”
“What? Oh, now, Peter, you know very well that it was that witchy Bernette Tyson who directed them here. I…”
“Calm down, I’m just teasing. Using all my powers of argument to get you on my side.”
I got up and walked to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head. “I’m always on your side, don’t you know that?” It was a quiet, intimate moment.
Then he answered, “Yes, I know. That’s why you were sitting on The Stolen Heart while I’ve been through the meat grinder.” He put his hand over mine and kissed the back of it. “Listen, I need to go. Just please do everything you can to help me out? You’re better than I am at this stuff.”
I chewed my bottom lip and nodded. “Not sure what I can do, but I’ll give it a try.”
Peter got up, gave me a hug, and left out the store door. I locked up after him and shut off all the lights except the one banker’s lamp on my desk. I pulled the crystal ball out of the bag and set it on the desktop. Instantly, when my fingers touched the glass, the contents began to swirl. I didn’t dare move. As I watched, the swirling film began to coagulate into an image. I leaned closer to see the image of a book—a brown book. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.
Sitting back, I realized my logic didn’t follow through. There was no pattern to what or when the ball would reveal an image. It was purely whimsy on its part. I tried touching it again, but it had become dormant. I regretfully put it back into the bag, sliding my hand around inside first for the pendant, and then locked it back in the safe before heading into the house. So many mysteries under one roof and it appeared, except for maybe Fred, I was the only one trying to solve them.
I didn’t sleep well that night. The questions swirled in my head like the smoky film in the crystal ball. The resolution image just never surfaced.
16
By the Book
I knew over my morning coffee that there was no point in putting it off any longer. I would have to go and visit Bernette Tyson. Every part of me was revolted at the idea, but she was a pivot in the entire mess and might reveal something I didn’t already know. I knew better than to call ahead. Taking her unaware would render the most honesty.
I dressed in navy blue—a jacket with brass buttons. I knew that particular color represented authority, and I wanted her to feel intimidated. Pulling up to her house, I straightened my jacket, re-shouldered my purse, and strode with resolution onto her porch. Bernette, herself, answered the front door at the first knock. I’d seen her peering through the slats of the blind on her front window.
“May I help you?” She was going to take the formal route, apparently.
“Good morning, Bernette. I wondered if you might have a few minutes for a chat. Of course, you know the necklace is missing, and being in the position you are, I was hoping you might have some light to cast on the situation?” Flattery was everything when it came to Bernette.
“I’m very busy, of course,” she began, “but I suppose I could spare a few minutes. You must be referring to the necklace you stole?” she added, holding open the
door and standing back to let me pass inside.
“I was cleared of that, as I’m sure you know, but still interested in helping recover it for the police.”
She showed me into her sunroom at the back of the house. It was a pleasant room, filled with plants and wicker furniture. It seemed unlike Bernette, who had, otherwise, a rather dark and forbidding persona. “Nice room,” I complimented her. I got a beaming smile in response. Yes, I’d found the way to handle Bernette.
“So, what can I do for you?” she opened the conversation.
“As I said, I’m trying to pull together any information about the missing pendant.”
Her nose rose into the air. “And just what does that have to do with me?”
“The timing of the carnival in town is making people ask questions. I believe you and Marlena, the original fortune teller with the carnival, became, if not friends, professional associates.”
“Hmm… something like that. She doesn’t like you, you know,” she was quick to point out.
“So I understand. Any reason why?”
“You must know, especially if you’re as empathic as you brag,” she whined. “You stole her crystal ball.”
“That’s not exactly how I would characterize it since I paid for it, and the proceeds allowed her to get out of jail, but we won’t argue the finer points. When was the last time you saw her?”
She became wary. “Why?”
“Just building a timeline is all.”
“A day after the festival as they were all leaving town. She stopped to give me her permanent address.”
“Oh? I wonder if I might have that?”
“She didn’t give it to you,” Bernette gloated.
“No, nor did she give it to the police, and I’m sure they’d like to have it. You could give it to me, and I’ll pass it along with the other information to Peter, or he can come and get it himself.”
She shifted her shoulders and looked around the room as if the thought of having the sheriff come into her home would be decidedly intrusive. “Very well, but you be sure to tell Peter that I cooperated fully.” She stood up and crossed the room to a small desk against the far wall. Opening her address book, she copied the information onto the back of her business card. As she wrote, I noticed the desk was somewhat organized, with piled papers to one side, and a small tray off to the other, holding what appeared to be cheap costume jewelry. Bernette turned around and handed the business card to me. “You’ve gotten what you came for. Will there be anything else?”
“Just a question. Do you think Marlena could be behind the theft of the pendant?” I knew I was flattering her because certainly Marlena didn’t have access to place and then remove the pendant within my house and store. Nevertheless, to find the real story, I needed as much information as I could gather.
Her answer surprised me. She leaned closer to me and laid her hand beside her mouth. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Mind if I ask why?”
She responded immediately with her opinion. “She’s sneaky. I don’t believe she has an ounce of psychic ability. Not like me, that’s for sure. She admitted that’s just a front to get access to people’s secrets, especially the men. In fact…” she paused for effect, “she is blackmailing several gentlemen she slept with and threatens to tell their wives. That’s how she makes most of her money.”
“Did she tell you that?”
Bernette nodded. “I seem to bring out the truth in people, you know,” she explained arrogantly.
“She literally said that?”
Bernette drew herself up with indignation. “Absolutely. I don’t lie about things like that.”
I noticed she qualified the kinds of things she was willing to lie about.
“Well, I think that’s all I had to ask, Bernette. Thank you so much for your time.” I stood, and she followed me to the door.
“You won’t find it, you know.”
I turned to look at her. “What makes you say that?”
“Marlena won’t let you.”
I nodded and left, taking the sidewalk a whole lot more relaxed than when I’d arrived.
I considered what I’d learned on the way home. While I knew Bernette was an avid gossip, there were always threads of truth buried in her statements. I could tell she didn’t care for Marlena, which also colored her report, but some things I did know. Marlena didn’t have telekinetic powers—the ability to move objects mentally. She needed hands-on, physical contact which she couldn’t have had while the pendant was under my roof. If Peter wanted, he could have the detective in his department inspect my safe and the surrounding walls to rule out access I wasn’t able to detect. After all, I knew there were tunnels leading from Mortimer House to the sea. I’d learned that the hard way.
I supposed that Elliott could’ve been involved if that was the case, given his diminutive stature. Still, the appearance/disappearance had been erratic. A true thief would never return something they’d stolen.
I suspected the answer lay closer to the objects themselves. The only way I could learn of that was to read. It would be slow, but it wasn’t the kind of situation you could Google.
When I arrived home, there was a line of guests at the check-in counter. “What’s going on?” I asked Gretchen.
“They’re tourists; came to try their luck to find The Stolen Heart.”
“Oh, my. What made them think this is like hunting for gold?”
“I have no idea, but it’s good for business.”
“True, but I don’t want people to think this is something I started.”
“It’s not,” spoke up Fred, who had been standing in the doorway of the library when I walked in. “Someone put this in the state travel guide.” He held out a copy, and I took it. There was a beautiful picture of Tempest in all its fall colors with the caption, “Seek your fortune in jewels – Tempest.”
I frowned, but again, it meant business, and these folks would be staying somewhere, so why not with me?
I helped Gretchen get everyone checked in and showed them to their rooms. Sylvia was flustered, so I offered to make the baked portion and set about doing that. “What did you find out?” she asked while we worked.
“Not a lot.” I looked at her straight on. “You do know it disappeared again?”
“No! What happened?”
“I decided the time was right to tell Peter about it. I’d been using it as bait; to see who and how people behaved differently. It had no effect whatsoever. So, I took Peter to my office and got the bag out of the safe. The globe was there, but The Stolen Heart was not.”
“I surely didn’t take it,” she protested, her mouth opening with a dab of mayo on her chin.
“No, no, not even a possibility. You couldn’t have if you’d wanted to. I saw it in the bag before I locked it up, and then when I took it out, it was gone. Just disappeared.”
Sylvia turned back to the potato salad she was making. “Always have thought there were strange things about this house.”
I agreed. “Old houses hold the souls of those who have lived and died there. Mortimer House has its share, there’s no doubt. But that doesn’t make it a bad place to live.”
“No, but it does seem to make it a place for drama.”
I stopped what I was doing to look at her. “Sylvia, are you afraid of living here? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“No, no, nothing will hurt me here. Just saying is all.”
I nodded and went back to my work, thoughtful. One thing was clear. This whole pendant thing was affecting several lives. I needed to find a way to resolve what was going on.
After dinner, I went down to my office and, just as a reference, opened the safe and pulled out the bag. I pulled out the crystal ball, and not really to my surprise, the pendant fell out with it. Excited, I held it into the light in a tight grip. With one hand, I texted Peter and told him to come right away and use the front door of the store. He was there within five minutes.
�
��Look!” I held it up toward him. “It’s here again!”
“Are you sure that’s it?”
“As sure as anyone without being a gemologist can be. Take it quickly. I don’t want it under my roof. Everyone is upset over this thing, and it’s not worth that, no matter how much money it’s worth.” I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out a small velvet pouch with drawstring closure and, holding it directly under Peter’s chin, slid the pendant inside and pulled the string tight. “Now, you witnessed me doing that, right?”
“Yes.”
“And I’m handing it to you, and you can feel the pendant is inside the pouch, right?”
“Yes, you’re right.”
“Then…” I turned to my desk and picked up a pen and a sheet of my stationery. “I’m going to write out a receipt, and you’re going to sign it. Then I want you to reach into the pouch, pull out the pendant, and I’m going to take a picture of you holding it. I want out of this mess.”
He laughed. “Okay, okay, I get the message. Go ahead and write it out, and I’ll sign it, but I’m not putting this pouch down.”
I wrote it out quickly, slid it toward him on the top of a case, and he signed it. I picked up my digital camera and snapped a shot of him holding the pendant, then ran to open the front door. “There. Now leave quickly with it, and I don’t want to see it again.”
He kissed me briefly on the cheek as he sailed by on his way out to the squad car. I sighed with huge relief and turned off the lights as I was leaving. As an afterthought, I pulled the most prominent brown book off the shelf and took it upstairs with me for reading before I fell asleep.
17
Pleasant Dreams
With my furry family cuddled in around me, I settled under the covers with the brown book I’d brought in. It looked very much like what I remember having been shown to me in the crystal ball. In fact, my hand had felt drawn toward it as I reached.