by Sonia Parin
* * *
It took a great deal of willpower to drive within the speed limit. With Jill watching her every move, Eve had no choice.
“Watch out for that cyclist,” Jill warned.
“I see him. He’s miles away.”
“Either he’s slowing down or you’re going faster.”
Eve eased her foot off the accelerator. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m driving at a snail’s pace.”
When Eve turned the corner into Jamie’s street, she spotted the person of interest striding toward his car.
“He’ll be suspicious,” Jill warned. “And possibly angry. He must know you’re the one who called the police.”
“Strictly speaking, you’re the one who called them.”
“At your request,” Jill said.
“Well, if he puts two and two together, then we’ll be able to cut to the chase. I’ll need you to be my eyes and ears, Jill. Pay attention, you might pick up something I miss.” Grabbing her handbag, Eve added, “I think I need to carry something to weigh my handbag down and make it look as if I’m carrying a serious weapon.”
“Now you want to intimidate people? What’s come over you?” Jill yelped. “He’s looking your way. Go up to him but keep a safe distance. He might become aggressive.”
“Really? He looks harmless enough.” As she got closer, Eve remembered she’d given him a half-cocked story about looking for an address. She wondered how long it would take him to make the connection. With only a few steps to go, he crossed his arms and rocked back and forward. Yes, he’d definitely put two and two together.
“She’s back,” he said in a mocking tone.
“That can’t be good,” Jill murmured. “He’s referring to you in the third person.”
Eve waved. “Hey, Jon.”
“It’s Paul,” he grunted.
“Nice trick,” Jill whispered.
Eve nodded. “Paul.”
He shifted and sneered at her. “Are you still looking for that address?”
Eve smiled. “You and I both know that was nothing but a ruse. You’re free so you must have had a solid alibi. How did you explain the grass clippings on your shoes to the police?”
He pressed his lips together. Eve assumed he’d clammed up. However, the propensity to speak appeared to take a hold of him.
“I told them the truth. I saw someone suspicious come out of Jamie’s house,” he spat out. “When I went over to investigate, I saw the broken window and then I called the police.”
He’d called them too?
“What did this person look like?” Eve asked.
“Why do you want to know?” he snapped. “You’re not with the police.”
“I have a vested interest.” Instead of explaining further, Eve rushed in with an accusation. “You and Jamie were friends.”
Paul shifted and looked away.
“He was desperate to get the box of cameras back,” Eve continued. “Why?”
“I’m going to tell you the same thing I told the police. I don’t know. I only know Jamie was scared and so he dumped them at my place for safekeeping.”
“How did they end up at Yesterday’s Trash?”
His cheeks colored. “I was away and my mom took them to the store and dumped them in the alleyway.”
He lived with his mom? He had to be in his late-twenties. Eve had been on her own since her late teens when she’d rebelled against her parents’ wishes and gone out on her own to study cooking instead of bending to their will and pursuing a career in law.
“How did he get the cameras? Where did they come from?’
Paul curled his lip. “He inherited them from his grandfather, right along with all those clothes he wore. And I’m only telling you this because I don’t need trouble from anyone. So just go away and don’t come back.”
“Did he say anything else about the cameras?” Eve persevered.
Paul shook his head. “I told you. I was away. I never got to speak with him. Then when I came back and he asked for his cameras back, I had to tell him my mom had given them away. He punched me. Said something about being in real trouble now.”
“Hang on. A moment ago, you said he was scared. How do you know that?”
Paul shoved his hands inside his pockets. “He might have mentioned the cameras when he first got them from his grandfather. Right out of the blue, people were calling him about them. They offered him money but he refused to sell them, saying he needed to know more about them.”
At a glance, the cameras Eve had purchased looked the same as the ones Florence had sitting on her shelves. If people were so interested in them, why not buy the cameras Florence had in stock? “What made him scared?”
“The people asking about the cameras were pushy and he thought someone was following him.”
The same person who’d broken into his house? The killer? “Describe the man you saw coming out of Jamie’s house.”
“He would have been about my height. Mid-thirties. Broad shoulders. Light brown hair.”
That sounded like the man she’d seen at the store. “And you’ve never seen him around the area?”
Paul shook his head.
“Did you see him drive off?”
“No, he disappeared down the street on foot.”
A careful man trying to avoid detection. “Did you see him carrying anything?”
“No. That’s it. No more questions.” Paul swung away and strode back inside the house.
Eve stood there a moment gazing across the street. A part of her wanted to have another look at Jamie’s house. “He had to have been looking for something small. He made a mess of the place and even went through the filing cabinet.”
“Eve, these cameras everyone is so keen on, how exactly did they end up in your possession?” Jill asked. “Don’t try to deny it. I heard you talking about them with David.”
Eve blinked and tried to remember what she’d said within Jill’s hearing. “Never mind all that. We should go back to Florence’s house and see if David has come up with something.”
“In other words, you don’t want to own up to disregarding my order to put them down.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
When they returned to Florence’s house, they found David sitting on the front porch, his eyebrows drawn together, his attention fixed on his cell phone. The moment he sensed them coming, he shot to his feet. “Good. You’re back.”
“You’re champing at the bit,” Eve said. “Has something happened?”
David nodded. “I’ve contacted the person who placed the ad and agreed to meet with him. He’s eager to see the box of cameras.”
“I hope you’re not seriously thinking of handing them over.”
“No. I’ve already contacted Detective Ken McLain. He came by to collect them a short while ago and, let me tell you, it’s been a while since I saw a man fuming.”
Her beautiful cameras. Gone. And who knew how long it would take for her to get them back. “Of course, you explained I didn’t withhold them on purpose.”
“Yeah, and he didn’t buy it. You’re lucky you have connections in the police force otherwise you’d be in handcuffs right now.”
Eve grinned. “So. How are you going to pull it off?”
“I’m going to swing by Florence’s store and fill up a box with the cameras she has there.”
“What’s the person’s name?”
“Joel Ellison.” He handed Eve a sheet of paper. “Florence gave me this. It’s a list of guests from the last dinner party. The one with the Ortolans. That should keep you out of trouble for a while.”
Frowning, Eve scanned the list. “Stew Woodridge? Any relation to Jamie?”
David gave a stiff nod. “Jamie’s grandfather.”
Eve gaped at him. “That has to be significant.”
David shrugged.
“Did you ask Florence about him?”
“Sure did. After downing several glasses of brandy, she said she hadn’t m
ade the connection.”
“I get the feeling that strikes you as odd.”
Jill piped in, “Don’t make excuses for her, Eve. I know you’re about to do just that.”
“We have to make allowances,” Eve said. “She’s a heavy drinker and recently widowed. We can’t expect her to remember everything.” She turned to David. “So how is Jamie’s grandfather connected to the dinner. Was he one of those odd, last minute guests?”
David shook his head. “On the contrary. He was Bertie’s friend.”
And Florence hadn’t made the connection? “Out of curiosity, what did he die of?”
“According to Florence, natural causes. He just keeled over.”
“I think that’s how she described her husband’s death. Two deaths by natural causes. Does that make it a coincidental occurrence?”
David gave her a lifted eyebrow look. “In my books? That makes it suspicious.”
“Cue suspense music,” Jill said. “Tum dum dum dum dun.”
* * *
After David left for his meeting, Eve and Jill focused on researching the list of guests.
“What exactly are we looking for?” Jill asked.
“Anything that looks suspicious. I wish David would hurry up. We need to know why Joel Ellison wants those cameras. They got Jamie killed.” Florence didn’t have a laptop computer for her to use, so Eve had asked to use Mira’s cell phone. She did an internet search for the first name on the list and then changed her mind. Shaking her head, she said, “I think I should start with Joel Ellison’s name. You focus on what you can find on Jamie’s grandfather.”
Eve came up with ten different listings for the name. She narrowed it down to the one listing of Joel Ellison living in the coastal town. “I found something. He owns a jewelry store.” Then again, they already knew that from the advertisements. Why would he suddenly be interested in some old cameras?
Jill gave an excited whoop. “I found a death notice for Stew Woodridge. He owned a local business too. Black Hawke Wine importers.”
“I wonder if there’s a connection between them.” Eve scanned the list of guests. Out of the two men, only Stew Woodridge appeared on it, but this was only a list of guests invited to the last dinner party. Maybe Joel Ellison had attended other dinners, and if he had, then why would he place an ad for something he most likely knew belonged to Stew Woodridge and had recently come into Florence’s possession? He must have known. His interest in the cameras couldn’t be coincidental. “Hang tight. I’m going to ask Florence for a full list of her guests.”
Half an hour later, she had gone through a year’s worth of names. Finally, she found Joel Ellison. “He’s on the guest list.” Eve slumped back on her chair. This didn’t make sense.
“You look disgruntled,” Jill said.
“Joel Ellison wants cameras that had once belonged to Stew Woodridge. They both knew Bertie Buchanan. Can we assume they knew each other?”
“Yes,” Jill said. “I think we can. Maybe. I’m not sure.”
“Yes, let’s go ahead and assume Joel Ellison knew Stew Woodridge. So, why didn’t Joel Ellison approach Stew Woodridge and asked to buy the cameras?”
“He might have,” Jill said. “Unless someone overheard the conversation, we have no way of knowing for sure.”
If he had, then Stew Woodridge had refused to sell them to him. Placing ads in the local paper meant Joel Ellison wanted to leave no stone unturned. He was desperate to get them.
Eve looked up and tilted her head in thought.
“What are you thinking about?” Jill asked.
“Don’t laugh. I’m thinking I might start reading mystery books. You know, do some research and then try my hand at writing one.”
“I think you have enough material to write a series but you’ll have to use a pen name and remain anonymous. Otherwise, reading will stalk you and visit the island.”
“I’ve just changed my mind. I already have one writer in the family.” Sighing, Eve asked, “What were we talking about?”
“Joel Ellison’s connection to Stew Woodridge and his interest in the cameras.”
When David returned, he found Eve and Jill still tossing ideas around.
“How did you go?” Eve asked.
David placed a box of cameras on the kitchen counter.
“Oh, I see. He didn’t buy them.”
“Yes. He bought the cameras.” David placed several bills on the table.
“So, what are they doing back here?”
“These are your cameras. Detective Ken McLain called me and told me to come by and collect them.”
Eve’s eyes widened. “The police released them? So quickly? Did they find anything? I guess they didn’t. Otherwise, they would not have released them.”
David smiled. “Are you done asking and answering your own questions?”
Shrugging, Eve gave a small nod.
David then noticed Jill. He stepped back so Jill couldn’t see him signaling to the cell phone. “Sorry. I forgot,” he mouthed.
“Oh, that’s okay. Jill already knows about the cameras. She more or less put two and two together. Which goes to show I really can’t get away with anything while she’s around.” Eve looked down at her cameras. Picking one up, she opened the back and studied it. They would definitely make a great hiding place.
David laughed. “I doubt the police missed anything, Eve. Also, they’ve been thoroughly dusted for prints and since your prints are in the system, they were able to cross you off the list. And, before you ask, no, you can’t get your prints back. Anyhow, if the police found anything, they’re not sharing the information. Needless to say, they would have held onto the cameras for a while longer but decided it wouldn’t be worth the trouble.”
Sounding offended, Eve asked. “What’s that supposed to mean? They expected me to harass them about my cameras.”
“There you go again,” David said, “Asking and answering your own question.”
“Fine. So, did Joel Ellison inspect the fake cameras before handing over his money?”
“No. He only glanced at them and asked how I’d come by them. I told him I’d purchased them recently at Florence’s store and that I had changed my mind but Florence wouldn’t take them back.”
Eve tapped her chin. “In other words, he thinks he purchased the cameras that had belonged to Jamie’s grandfather.”
David nodded. “That’s my assumption too.”
“Can you describe him?”
“I can do better than that. When he looked down at the box, I snapped a photo of him.” David drew his cell phone out.
“Well done, David.” Eve studied the photo.
“What’s wrong?” Jill asked. “You look disappointed.”
Eve grimaced. “For a moment there I got all excited thinking he might have been the fellow we saw at the store. Unfortunately, Joel Ellison is several decades too old.” Eve turned and looked at the money on the counter. “Did you at least make a profit for Florence?”
David smiled. “Sure did. I got the feeling Joel Ellison didn’t care how much he paid for the cameras, which doesn’t make him much of a collector. A real buyer would have tried to get the price down.”
She held her hand up. “I know what you told me, however, I suppose there’s no way to find out if Detective Ken McLain found anything in my cameras.”
David firmed his lips. After a moment, he said, “I’ll call him and push for more information, but I’m not promising anything.”
Eve grabbed his arm. “Hang on. You already know he’s onto you. Why not try Jack? I’m sure he’ll be only too happy to do some snooping around for us. After all, here I am stuck in a house that has been targeted by a killer. He must be concerned about my wellbeing.”
David wagged a finger at her. “Eve Lloyd, you are a cunning woman and Jack is very lucky to have you.”
“Maybe you should start with that. Jack is bound to get suspicious. He’ll know I put you up to it.”
Whi
le David stepped out into the back garden to make his phone call, Jill and Eve went over the list of guests again.
“We need to dig deeper,” Eve said.
Jill rolled her eyes. “That’s assuming the guests are somehow connected to the cameras which might or might not be connected to the reason why Jamie was killed.”
“Are you making fun of me?” Eve asked.
“Let me see. I think I might be.”
Before Eve could respond, Mira strode into the kitchen and set a couple of photo albums down on the kitchen counter. “Never say I don’t help you or encourage you to explore your full potential, Eve.”
She’d bookmarked several pages. “What have you found?” Eve asked.
“Jamie Woodridge’s grandfather attended most of the dinners.”
“He was a regular? Why didn’t Florence mention it?” Eve had seen his name on the list once.
Mira drew in a breath that smacked of forbearance. “I’d hate to say this, but I think all that excessive drinking has actually scrambled her memory.”
“Really? But she doesn’t even slur her speech.” She’d been able to recount all those tales about her life in such great detail, Eve had felt as if she’d been right there with her, riding a camel in the sand dunes, sipping a cocktail at the swanky London hotel…
Jill harrumphed. “Honestly, Eve. Don’t fall for that trick. If she’s perceived as a drunk and too far gone to remember her name, she’d become an unreliable witness. And if she happens to be in any way involved in Jamie’s death, she would have a strong argument for pleading insanity or mental incapacitation.”
“Have you been reading mystery blogs again?” Eve asked.
“Maybe, but only because I wish to stay abreast of everything involved with crime. I want to be a supportive girlfriend and be able to keep up with Josh’s conversations. Not that he ever talks about his job. In fact, he prefers not to, but I suspect it’s because he doesn’t want to bore me.”
Both Mira and Eve listened in quiet amusement.
“Sorry, I interrupted, Mira,” Jill said.
“Think nothing of it, Jill. I think you might have inspired me to spread my wings and attempt to write a mystery book. Modeling a character on you and another one on Eve would make the rest easy. I’d only have to focus on the murder case and the setting. Of course, it would be set in the regency period…”