“You told me that’s impossible.”
“No, I told you the system is nearly un-hackable per the company’s website.”
“You think someone who’s smart enough to hack into this system is robbing houses here? In Heart’s Grove?”
He had a good point. It didn’t make sense. “Doesn’t seem possible, does it?”
“Perhaps the word is probable.”
“True.” She looked back at the house, eyes squinted. “There’s a way. Somehow, someone gained access to her codes and got inside.”
“All right, so say that happened, how do you explain the MO changing so dramatically?”
He’d explained that, unlike the other crime scenes, the house had been ransacked. ‘Totally destroyed,’ as Ralph had put it. That was very unlike the past crime scenes.
“Something has changed.” At a look from Ralph, she continued. “Obviously something has changed, but to the robber or the situation, not exactly to the motivation or means.”
“Trashing the place isn’t a change of means.”
“Not exactly. It’s a change in the attitude of the robber—or robbers—but that doesn’t mean they still didn’t gain access the same way they did before.”
Ralph nodded his agreement. “What do we do next?”
Henrietta blinked. “I have no idea.” At Ralph’s laugh, she feigned hurt. “What?”
“I like you admitting you don’t know something.” He puffed out his chest. “Makes me think you actually are human. That and the terrible book you keep making me re-read.”
“Hey now,” she said, gently slapping his arm as they walked back to his truck. “That manuscript is going to be published one day. Just you wait and see.”
“I’ll wait,” he agreed, “but please don’t make me read it again.”
She grinned, knowing that not everyone could love her work. “I’m sure Hemingway felt the same way.”
She could almost hear Ralph rolling his eyes as they climbed into the truck. “Henri, whatever you do, don’t quit your day job.”
“Which one?” she asked, her eyebrows rising in challenge.
“Both.”
She turned away as Ralph pulled onto the road. She didn’t need anyone’s encouragement to continue writing. She’d show them all when she became a world-famous literary genius, or at least completely finished her manuscript. She cringed thinking of it sitting at her desk, half-written. All right, so perhaps genius was a little too lofty of a goal in general, but she would get a book published if it was the last thing she did.
Thoughts of publishing contracts and future book signings in her mind, she turned around for one last look at the Rhode house. Her heart picked up its pace when she saw a shadowed figure one yard down, wearing dark jeans and a black sweatshirt. He was no doubt an observer, but something about him spoke of familiarity and sent a shiver up her spine.
Her thoughts were yanked back to the present by Ralph’s question of where they should get lunch, but the figure remained in her mind as they cruised around the corner and onto the highway that would lead them back to town.
Who was it that figure reminded her of?
5
The light reflecting off the water was nearly blinding. Henrietta regretted trying to gain one last look before the road curved inward toward The Cliffs and her meeting with Everett Alastair regarding his aunt’s estate. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of seeing him again.
He was nothing to her—nothing aside from a business connection. She was happily single. Well, mostly happily single. She didn’t need the complication of a man aside from Ralph in her life. Not that Ralph was in her life. Well, he kind of was.
Henrietta pulled the car into a parking spot and rested her head on the steering wheel. If her mind was any more jumbled, she was afraid she’d have an aneurysm. She wasn’t a sixteen-year-old girl any longer. She didn’t have ‘boy problems.’
At that moment, Everett stepped onto his front porch and waved at her just as a text pinged from Ralph.
Maybe she did have boy problems.
No. She could do this. She was a professional with a shop to run, a book to finish, and a case to solve. Not exactly in that order.
Steeling herself, she stepped from the car and pulled her purse strap over her shoulder. She offered a subdued nod to Everett as she came up the steps and asked where the items were being held.
He seemed to sense her need to get down to business and, rather than go inside, he took her around back. She’d forgotten just how large his back yard was and her breath escaped from her lips in a rush at the sight she was met with.
Everett’s expansive back yard stretched to the edge of a cliff with a stunning water view beyond. But in front of that, there were rows and rows of antique items covering nearly every inch of the paved portions of the back yard.
Bookshelves, multiple desks, a credenza, numerous chairs, and on and on the items stretched out. It was almost an impossible sight, and yet it made Henrietta’s antique-loving heart threaten to burst from her chest.
“Wow,” was all she could manage.
Everett laughed. “I had a feeling that would be your reaction.”
He led her down the steps and along a narrow, stone pathway that led to the right side of the house. The main portion of the house was three stories, soaring up into the crystal blue sky, but there was a back portion that extended along the right side of the yard.
From what she could remember, it acted like a mother-in-law suite while still being attached to the house through a doorway that led into the kitchen. In front of that portion of the house was a paved patio. The outdoor furniture had been moved to the lawn to make room for the antiques. The only thing that remained was the permanent fixture of the firepit in the center of the paved area.
Henrietta walked around the furniture like it was a magical maze, trailing her fingers along parts of the larger pieces and leaning close to inspect some of the smaller ones. Almost everything was in good condition and showed only minimal signs of wear.
“Will you keep any of these?” she asked, not looking at Everett as she inspected a late nineteenth century armoire.
“Haven’t decided yet. I was thinking I’d like appraisals of each piece first, then I’d make my decision.”
“You’re not going to leave them out here for long, are you?” This time, she moved on to a Gone with the Wind style oil lamp circa 1890. Gingerly lifting the top glass piece, she inspected the rest of it. “Excellent,” she murmured to herself.
“No, I’m not going to leave them out here for long. I’ve got a team coming in to help us move them.”
She picked up a small figurine, one of at least twenty, and inspected it more closely until Everett’s words sunk in.
“We?” she said, looking up from the porcelain figure.
“Preston and I.”
It took her a moment before she realized who he was talking about. “Oh, Preston, yes. How is your son?”
“Doing well,” Everett said, looking toward the mother-in-law suite.
“Is he living here?”
“You’ve always been so observant,” Everett said with a chuckle. “Yes. He’s still here.”
She couldn’t tell if Everett was unhappy about that reality or if the thought made him preoccupied. Either way, she caught some emotion flit across his face.
“How is that—”
“What is all this junk?” a loud voice said from somewhere on the other side of the yard.
“Speaking of…” Everett said, his eyebrows rising. “We’ve got company, son.”
“Company?” A tall young man came around one of the larger antiques, a sweatshirt hanging on lean shoulders. He had inherited his father’s good looks and rakish smile. “Henrietta?” His grin spread. “It’s so good to see you again.”
“You too.” She smiled back at the young man, accepting his somewhat awkward handshake.
He looked between her, his father, and the antiques filling the space
. “What’s going on?”
“If you checked your phone messages, you’d know what.” Everett’s gentle reprimand wasn’t lost on Henrietta, but the young man didn’t seem to notice.
“I was working.”
“Where are you working?” she asked, hoping to break some of the tension.
“I’ve got a pretty sweet gig, actually.” His grin spread and he looked exactly like a younger version of his father. “I run an online gaming community.” He nodded as if she would be impressed by this.
“An online…what?”
He laughed. “Gaming. Like, video games. I run a site that hosts gamers and gives them a place to hang out—online,” he added, as if she might not understand that.
“And it pays?” she asked, hoping it wasn’t a rude question.
“Surprisingly, yes. We have spots for advertisements—where the most money comes in—but I sell some merchandise, and we get some revenue from YouTube and things like that.”
While Henrietta didn’t know a lot about video games, it seemed as if Everett’s son had his father’s penchant for entrepreneurship.
“Sounds like you have your hands full.”
“It pretty much runs itself,” he boasted.
“Then you have time to do more around the house,” his father added dryly. “Like I asked you a few weeks ago.”
“Right, Pops,” Preston said, smacking his father on the shoulder and flashing a grin to Henrietta.
“Anyway, I gotta jet. Heading out with some friends tonight.”
“I’ll need your help with these antiques, son. Remember what we talked about?”
“Sure. Right. I’ll do it when I get back. See ya!” The young man turned and walked away, stepping through the side door that edged the patio.
“Children,” Everett said, shaking his head and offering Henrietta a wry smile.
“Seems like he’s doing well.”
“I suppose. Though he still refuses to pay his phone bill or the electricity that his ‘company’ uses when he runs the obscene number of computers he’s got in there.” Everett motioned to the mother-in-law suite.
“Uh oh, sounds like there’s some discord in the Alastair house.”
“It’s just typical kid things, I suppose. I wish he’d own up to a few things. It seems the least he could do, seeing as how he has it very good here. Sometimes I wonder…perhaps he needs to learn a few lessons.”
She nodded, unsure of what to say. As a single woman, she’d never experienced having children. While some of her best friends had many kids, and she enjoyed playing the occasional ‘auntie,’ she’d never fancied herself a mother. Kids were a mystery she’d likely never solve.
“Perhaps he does.”
“Yes. Well.” Everett looked back at the antiques. “What do you need from me?
“Mostly…” She surveyed the pieces. “Access to these lovelies.” She flashed a smile back at him, unable to help her happiness. The thought of figuring out the past of these items and finding them prices and then homes appealed to the side of her that loved mysteries.
“That’s it?”
“I’ll take any documentation you may have on anything, but if you have nothing, I’ll basically need to start from scratch. It’ll likely take a while for all of this, just so you know.”
He took a step toward her, looking down at her. “You take as long as you need.”
A warning claxon went off in the back of her mind and she smiled, taking a step away from the handsome man. “Thank you. I’d better be going. Thanks again for asking me to help with this project. I’ll send over all the documents by email tonight or tomorrow.”
She was almost to the porch steps when he called out to her. “It really is good to see you, Etta.”
She merely offered a smile and then was gone.
“Do you think it’s going to be worth it?” Olivia asked, her gaze remaining on the antique radio she was inspecting.
“How do we quantify worth?” Henrietta asked, her own eyes returning to the stack of vintage vinyl records she’d acquired at an auction the weekend before.
“I suppose I was asking monetarily, but now that you mention it, there are other ways for that to add up.” She huffed out a breath and, from the corner of her eye, Henrietta saw the younger woman drop her chin onto her fist. “Like if you want to spend time with him. If he’s going to be worth your time. If he’s going to validate you and—”
“Um, Olivia?” Henrietta broke into the woman’s musings. “Is there something you’d like to talk about?”
The woman blinked as if she were just realizing what she’d been saying. The flush that flooded her face gave her some color to her otherwise pale cheeks.
“I’m sorry.” She bit her lip and looked back at the radio.
“It’s all right, dear. What’s troubling you?” Henrietta asked, though she had a suspicion she knew what the actual problem was.
“It’s Nelson.” Her voice wobbled and she pressed a knuckle to her lips for a moment. “I’m probably just overreacting.”
Henrietta slid off of her stool and came to the bench seat next to the younger woman, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Nonsense. What’s on your mind?”
“I don’t know. I think I thought that things would be…different.”
“In what way?”
Olivia sucked in a breath and stared into the distance for a few moments before answering. “When I moved here to be near Nelson, I think I hoped we’d mesh just as well in person as we did online.”
Henrietta recalled Olivia telling her a little bit of how she’d come to Heart’s Grove, meeting Nelson Stern online and deciding to leave her home in Silver Springs, Maryland, to further their relationship.
“That doesn’t seem to be true now that you’re here?” she pressed.
“Not exactly.” Olivia rubbed her forehead. “I mean, most of the time it’s all right, but sometimes, it’s like Nelson has this idea of how things should be—how I should be—and if it’s not like that, then he gets so moody.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.” Olivia brushed away a tear. “Like last night, for example.”
“What happened?”
“He’s friends with a bunch of gamers—”
“Gamers?”
“Sorry, online video game players.”
“Oh, yes. Of course. Please, go on.”
“Anyway, I came home from work really tired.” She gave Henrietta a sheepish look. “I like the new responsibility, don’t get me wrong. I’m just not used to it, and it’s worn me out.”
“I’m sorry, dear.”
“Please, don’t be. I like it. I really do.” She smiled back, as if to prove she really was all right. “When I said that I wanted to stay in and watch a movie, he nearly lost it. He kept talking about how Preston was going to be so unhappy and how—”
“Wait, Preston? As in Preston Alastair?”
“I-I don’t know.” Olivia looked genuinely confused.
The image of the gangly young man came to Henrietta like a vision, matching up perfectly with the shadow she’d seen when she and Ralph had been leaving the last crime scene. It caused her heart to pound in her chest, but that was a question for a different time.
“Sorry, continue, dear.”
“There’s not much else to that story. It’s just the fact that we ended up going and then Preston wasn’t even there. I could have spit fire, I was so mad.”
Henrietta attempted to quell her smile at the thought of this sweet, mild-tempered woman spitting anything but kindness.
“Have you talked to him about it?”
“I’ve tried.” She let out another exasperated breath. “We talk in two different languages, and I’m not even joking. I sometimes think if I could speak code, he’d understand me better.”
Henrietta thought of the introverted young man who still lived in his mother’s basement and worked remotely for a technology company. He was nice enough, but there were some rough edges tha
t needed smoothing, in her opinion.
But this wasn’t about her opinion, it was about what was best for Olivia.
“I think you should see if you can have a conversation with him about this. Make sure there is nothing else planned and just sit down to talk. I’d recommend somewhere private and with no distractions. No phones, no video games, no television. Just you and him—maybe some coffee.” The women shared a smile. “Tell him how you’re feeling and that you’d appreciate the chance to do what you want sometimes. It’s not all about him.” Henrietta let the words sink in, observing how they affected Olivia.
“I’ll try, but…” She dropped her gaze. “I’m honestly not sure if it’ll help.”
So, it was more serious than she’d realized. Was Olivia thinking of breaking it off with Nelson? Part of her hoped that would be true, because she’d seen how unhappy the relationship had made the woman, but the other part of her didn’t want to see the girl hurt. Nor did she want to see her move away either, but that was merely selfish.
“Just give it some time,” Henrietta offered. “See how the talk goes and then make your next move from there. Don’t try and guess the future. As my mother used to say…” She affected a straight back and prim expression. “The future is elusive, Henrietta, allow it to unfold as it wants.”
Olivia chuckled. “I wish I could have met your mother. She seems to have had a lot of wisdom.”
“She was a wonderful woman.” Henrietta envisioned her gray-haired mother, her wisdom lining her face alongside laugh lines and charming crow’s feet. She’d been an incredible woman who had been taken from this earth too soon.
“I’m sorry to bring my problems to work. So unprofessional of me.”
“Nonsense. You are like family. I’m always here for you. As are Ralph and Scott.” She tossed the name out just to see how the young woman might react. The subtle blush was all Henrietta needed to know.
“But, while we’re on the subject of work, I have a potentially indelicate question to ask you.”
Olivia looked surprised. “Okay?”
“Do you think Nelson would talk to me about his association with Preston Alastair?”
Break-ins and Bloodshed Page 4