“That’s illegal,” someone protested.
“This is California,” Alvirah reminded her. She leaned backwards as far as she dared without toppling over and was able to hear with her own ears Elyse saying very quietly, “How like Cotter. How very like Cotter.” Then she pushed her chair away from the table and excused herself.
Alvirah knew that a woman detective dressed as a spa maid would be following Elyse. She had another plan, however. When it was time to leave for the afternoon appointments, she quietly followed Barra Snow to her cottage, slipped around to the patio and, flattening herself against the side of the sliding glass door, peered in.
She pulled her head back as Barra looked around, then she inched forward just far enough to see Barra shove aside the portrait of Min and Helmut and dial the combination of her safe. A moment later she pulled out a plastic bag, the sparkling contents of which were heaped together.
“I thought so!” Alvirah breathed. “I thought so! Now Barra has to get rid of them . . . ”
She stepped back. Barra’s cottage, like Nadine’s, was one of the farthest from the main house, a bit remote, with a wooded area behind it. Where was Barra going to try to dump the stuff? Alvirah wondered.
I was sure it was Elyse, Alvirah thought, but then when I asked Charley Evans to send me the file photos from that outing at the Ridgewood Country Club, I started seeing a different picture. In a couple of the photos, the way Cotter and Barra are looking at each other tells a lot. Then on the tape, it’s so clear that Barra persuaded Elyse to go golfing yesterday. Barra was the one who sent the caddy for the clubs, knowing all along what he would find. She didn’t seem to care whether Elyse was implicated, or if Nadine remained the prime suspect. Ei ther way, no one would think her involved in the murder.
Alvirah’s suspicions had been deepened when Barra had said she had to go back for a photo shoot. Alvirah knew that wasn’t true. The caption under the picture referred to her as the ex-Adrian model. That’s what had caught Alvirah’s eye.
Plus she had made that crack about her sister getting a McDonald’s franchise in her divorce settlement . . . What had Barra said? “I wasn’t that lucky.” I bet she hasn’t got much money at all, Alvirah told herself.
The question remained, however, did she do the robbery on her own? And how did she know the combination of Nadine’s safe.
There was only one person who could have given it to her, Alvirah realized—Cotter Hayward. Would he have stolen his own jewelry to get the insurance money to pay off that final three million to Elyse?
It was quiet inside the cottage. Barra must be going crazy trying to figure where to dump the jewelry she believes is worthless, Alvirah thought. Then her reverie was abruptly broken as something small and hard was pressed into her back, and she heard Barra Snow murmur, “You’re much too clever for your own good, Mrs. Meehan.”
* * *
Scott Alshorne was in a bad mood. He did not like the idea of allowing false rumors to swirl around during a murder investigation. Therefore, it was not hard to look coldly furious when once again he got out of his car at the gates of the spa to confront the media.
“I have no comment about the alleged footprints in the vicinity of the murder scene,” he said, his tone frosty. “I will not discuss the rumor that the stolen jewelry consisted of paste copies of the Hayward gems. I will actively pursue discovery of the source of any leaks from my office to the media.”
And that much at least is true, he thought as he pushed his way past the microphones and cameras back to the car. The grounds of the spa had a deserted feeling. Scott knew that after luncheon was served, the serious business of beauty resumed with a vengeance. Min was always after him to take a full day of treatment as her guest. Just what I need, he thought irritably, to be wrapped in seaweed.
He went directly to Min’s office where Walt Pierce, one of his deputies, Min, Helmut and Willy were awaiting him. “Where’s Alvirah?” he asked.
“She should be here any minute,” Willy told him evasively.
“Meaning she’s up to something,” Scott said, congratulating himself that he had assigned Liz Hill, a woman deputy, to keep track of Alvirah.
He turned to Pierce. “Any reports yet?”
“Darva called in,” Pierce told him. “She followed Elyse Hayward to her cottage. She’s got her under observation now.”
“Any indication that Hayward has the jewelry?” Scott demanded.
“She went straight for the safe,” Pierce informed him. “She had a bottle of gin hidden in it.”
“Gin!” Min exclaimed. “It is part of our code of honor that guests will not conceal liquor in the safe. The maids are instructed to report any evidence of spirits in the cottages, but of course they do not have access to the safes.”
“How can our guests lose weight if they imbibe?” Helmut sighed. “How can they retain the fresh bloom of youth?”
You manage, Willy thought.
“Darva has Elyse Hayward under surveillance with her binoculars. She says Hayward is crying and laughing and drinking. In other words, she’s tying one on,” Pierce continued.
“There goes Alvirah’s theory,” Scott said. “If Elyse Hayward had the jewelry, she’d be trying to unload it. The last thing she’d be doing is getting drunk. Walt, what have you heard from Liz?”
“Mrs. Meehan is hiding on the patio of Barra Snow’s cottage. Liz can’t see the interior, just the front side opposite the patio, but so far no activity.”
“How long has Liz been there?” Scott asked.
“About fifteen minutes.”
The walkie-talkie Pierce was holding buzzed. He snapped it on and said. “What’s up?” Then his tone changed. He looked at Min. “Deputy Hill wants to know if there’s another entrance to Barra Snow’s cottage.”
“Yes,” Min said. “That cottage has a sliding glass door from the master bedroom to the back patio.”
Scott grabbed the walkie-talkie. “What’s the matter?” He listened, then asked, “Are you wearing a maid’s uniform? . . . All right. . . Go up to the cottage. Make an excuse to go inside, then report back.”
Willy felt the familiar sickening lurch in the pit of his stomach that always grabbed him when he began to worry about Alvirah.
A moment later the walkie-talkie buzzed again. Deputy Hill made no attempt to speak softly, and they could all hear her. “Barra Snow and Mrs. Meehan are gone. They must have left through the back door. That’s only a few feet from the woods. Snow must have opened the wall safe. The picture in front of it is pushed aside.”
“We’re on the way,” Scott told her. “Try to pick up their trail,”
Willy grabbed his arm. “Where do those woods end?”
“At the Pebble Beach Club,” Min told him. “If Barra has the jewelry, she must be planning to get rid of it somewhere in those woods. It would be almost impossible to find. There are more than eighty acres, and much of it is dense and even swampy in places.” Then, noting the look on Willy’s face, she added hastily, “but Alvirah may simply be following her. I’m sure she is fine.”
* * *
Alvirah stumbled through the thick undergrowth, prodded on by the gun in her back. The lush vegetation clawed at her ankles, and countless insects buzzed around her face. I attract mosquitoes, she thought. If there was only one mosquito in the world it would find me.
“Move faster,” Barra ordered.
If I could just distract her, Alvirah thought, looking about for something to use as a club, anything with which to defend herself.
She deliberately stumbled and fell to her knees, then used the moment to catch her breath. “Where are you taking me?” she demanded, looking up at Barra Snow.
She found it difficult to reconcile this hard-eyed, thin-lipped woman with the sophisticated, amusing one she’d sat at the same table with these past few days. It was as though Barra had donned a mask. Or maybe, Alvirah thought, her other face was the mask.
“You killed Cotter Hayward, didn’t y
ou?” she asked. “You stole the jewelry?”
Snow pointed the gun at her. “Get up,” she ordered. “Unless you want to die here.”
Alvirah scrambled to obey. She had the presence of mind to turn on the recorder in her pin as she got to her feet. Then, hoping Barra wouldn’t notice, she slid the small shoulder bag down her arm, and as she began to move, let it drop.
“That’s better. Keep going.”
“All right. All right.” Alvirah dragged her feet, hoping to leave some trace of a trail. It was stifling in this place, with no breeze penetrating the dense foliage. She could hardly breathe. But no matter what, she needed to get a confession on record. “Tell me something,” she panted. “Did you kill Cotter?”
“Alvirah, you’re so smart, you must have it all figured out. Just shut up and MOVE!”
Alvirah felt the gun again, this time at the back of her head. “The way I figure it, you stole the jewelry and tried to make it look like a break-in by throwing all that stuff around. You must have really wondered why Nadine didn’t report the theft.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” she gasped. “Don’t keep sticking that thing in my neck.”
Then she continued, “The question is, why did you kill Hayward? He was meeting you on the golf course, wasn’t he? My bet is that you were supposed to hand the jewelry over to him. Am I right?”
“Yes, you’re right.”
Fury and frustration resounded in Barra Snow’s voice.
Moments later, the woods thinned suddenly, and they came upon a swampy area. Alvirah felt mud oozing beneath her feet. Directly ahead of them was a pond, all slimy water and vegetation. We have to be getting near the grounds of the Pebble Beach Club, she thought. What does she think she’s going to do now?
“I bet he gave you the combination for Nadine’s safe and was going to claim the insurance money to pay off Elyse,” she volunteered.
“Right on all counts,” Barra said. “You can stop now.”
Alvirah turned. “The thing is, why did you kill him? Was it because of the way Elyse talked about him being so cheap and Nadine being left penniless if she ever divorced him? Maybe you thought you were better off with that?” She pointed to the bag of jewelry Barra was carrying.
“Right again, Alvirah.” This time Barra Snow pointed the gun at Alvirah’s heart. “And when I tell them that I saw you dash past my cottage following a man who looked like one of the caddies at the Pebble Beach Club, they’ll start looking for the killer here, not at the spa. And I’ll be back at the spa in time for my facial.
“By the time they find you—if they find you, since that pond is deep, and the mud sucks you down like quicksand—I’ll be far away from here.
“Now take these fake jewels in your clammy little hands. I want to get rid of both them and you.” As Alvirah obeyed, Barra stepped back and aimed the gun once again at Alvirah’s heart.
* * *
As he ran to Barra’s cottage, Scott ordered that squad cars be sent to both sides of the woods and that deputies begin the search for Barra and Alvirah. “They could have gone anywhere,” he snapped. “Walt, we’ll split up until more help comes. Min, you and the Baron and Willy stay out of it.”
Ignoring the sheriffs command, Willy plunged into the thickets shouting for Alvirah. That woman is a killer, he said to himself, and she’s getting desperate. If she knows Alvirah is following her, it’s better if she realizes other people are around as well, that she can’t get away with another murder.
Willy realized that the sheriff and the deputy had gone off in another direction from the one in which his instincts told him to head. Maybe I’d better veer over in the direction of the ocean, Willy thought, worried now that his instincts might be wrong. Maybe Barra Snow would try to get Alvirah down to the beach.
Then he saw it. Alvirah’s pocketbook. He was sure she’d dropped it on purpose. Then he was able to make out where some grass was trampled. Yes, this was the right direction.
He charged ahead, reaching the clearing in time to see what was happening but not in time to stop Barra Snow.
As Barra pulled the trigger, Alvirah swerved, then felt a sharp pain coming from the vicinity of her sunburst pin. As she toppled backwards into the water, she thought, My God, I’ve been shot.
Willy lunged through the mud and grabbed Barra’s arm just as she pointed the gun at the spot where Alvirah was starting to sink. The shot exploded into the air as he wrenched the gun from her hand, tossed it into the water, then pushing her down, leaped after it.
“I’ve got you, honey,” he said, lifting Alvirah’s head. “I’ve got you.”
Alvirah felt a pain in her shoulder. The pin, she thought. My sunburst pin took the bullet. She had been saved by ducking—and sheer luck! Barra’s aim had been thrown off by her movement, and the bullet had merely grazed the pin. She felt the pain radiating from the point of impact, but again thought in wonder, I’m all right. I know I’m all right. And I’ve still got the jewelry.
She managed not to faint until she had the satisfaction of seeing Scott come charging into the clearing in time to collar Barra Snow, who was struggling furiously to extract herself from the mire.
* * *
“I think the occasion calls for breaking the cardinal rule of the Cypress Point Spa,” Helmut said, as a maid carrying champagne and glasses on a tray followed him into Tranquility cottage.
Alvirah’s arm was in a sling. She was comfortably ensconced on a sofa in the sitting room and beaming amiably at Min, Scott, Nadine and Bobby. Willy, still pale with worry over her narrow escape, was hovering over her like a mother hen.
“I think you need rest, honey,” he said for the fifteenth time in the last five hours.
“I’m fine,” Alvirah said, “and forever thankful that I insisted on wearing my pin ‘just in case.’ Heaven knows I never thought ‘just in case’ would include getting shot at. The pin’s pretty well destroyed, but the recording is still okay. I got Barra Snow cold.” She beamed at the thought.
Scott Alshorne shook his head. Once again he found himself counting his blessings that Alvirah Meehan lived a continent away. She attracted trouble, no question about it.
He grudgingly admitted to himself, though, that Alvirah’s scheme to spread the rumors about the footprints at the crime scene and the paste jewelry had certainly worked. If he hadn’t gone along with it, Nadine Hayward would still be in jail, sticking to her story that she had murdered her husband—just to protect her son. And Barra Snow would be packing her bags and heading home, leaving behind a murdered man and taking with her four million dollars’ worth of stolen jewelry.
He accepted a glass of champagne when offered one, and when Helmut proposed the toast to Alvirah, Scott gladly joined in acknowledging her valor. Nevertheless, with an eye to the future, he decided it was time to say his piece.
“Alvirah, my good friend, you have saved the day again. But I would implore you to realize that if a deputy had not been following you—”
“Who you put on my tail,” Alvirah interrupted. “That was very clever of you, Scott.”
“Thank you. I would like to point out that you came within an inch of losing your life today, and all because you did not simply ask for help when you followed Barra Snow.”
Alvirah’s attempt to look chagrined was not convincing. “I’ll be honest,” she said. “I was betting mostly on Elyse being the murderer. It just made sense. And let me tell you, there really was a love/hate relationship between her and Cotter Hayward.”
“Looking back, I agree,” Nadine said quietly. “Apparently one of the things that attracted Cotter to me was that I didn’t play golf. I gather he and Elyse would get into constant screaming matches about each other’s games. But after four years I think he was bored with me and missed that kind of companionship.”
“Except that he was getting it from Barra, not Elyse,” Scott interjected. “When Elyse Hayward learned what happened this afternoon, she admitted that she honestly thought Cotter Ha
yward was getting interested in being with her again. Then she sensed there was someone else in the picture, but she hadn’t guessed that it was Barra.”
Scott turned to Nadine. He half smiled when he saw the blissfully peaceful look on her face and the absolute happiness emanating from her son, Bobby. But then he forced himself to look stern. “Nadine, you and Bobby lied for each other. It was easy to see through Bobby’s attempts to cover for you, but please realize you could have gone to the gas chamber if a judge or a jury had believed your story. Fortunately, Alvirah did not, and I had gut-level doubts about it as well.”
“But you did leave your cottage after you went to bed the other night,” Alvirah said. “That’s why Bobby went looking for you. I never did hear where you went.”
Nadine looked embarrassed. “I did make a call to Cotter, but when he answered, I was so upset I just hung up. Then I went over to the lap pool and settled into one of the beach chairs. I knew no one would see or hear me there, and I didn’t want Bobby to hear me crying. I guess I was so exhausted I fell asleep.”
“So that’s why there was a blanket on one of those chairs,” Min breathed. “I am glad to hear it. When it was reported to me, I did not know what to think.”
“I have a point to make,” Alvirah said, and now she looked stern. “Nadine, I gather you’re now a very wealthy woman. I’ll say this right in front of Bobby. You won’t do him any favors if you ever cover gambling debts for him.”
“I agree,” Bobby said. He looked at Nadine. “Mom, I don’t deserve you.”
Min arose. “I must get to the main house. Tonight I lecture on the need for quiet meditation as part of the overall process of achieving beauty.”
This time Willy spoke up. “Min, with all due respect, thanks for your hospitality, but in the interest of achieving a little peace, we’re heading back to New York in the morning. You can let someone on the waiting list know that Tranquility cottage is available.”
The Lottery Winner Page 19