Chapter Thirteen

Kate’s curiosity drew her back to the library Tuesday morning. First thing, Kate ran a search for Anthony D’Amico and D’Amico Landscaping. Several references came up. Then she found an article about Gentian Hill Manor. It listed the landscape architect as A.T.D’Amico. She clicked on the link.

The article featured spectacular pictures of the Mackenzie estate from various angles. She scanned the article; it read like an advertisement for Anthony’s creative talent. It mentioned Gentian Hill Manor throughout, even showing some before pictures, which were lovely but much more traditional and taken at a time of year when the flowers were dormant. Tricky, Kate thought.

Flora had tried to imitate a New Jersey accent when she talked about Anthony, if Kate wasn’t mistaken. Kate went to the Internet white pages. There were dozens of listings for D’Amico, which she assumed was his last name based on the truck he drove. She found a D’Amico Laundromat. She almost laughed as the thought of Anthony laundering money in a washing machine flicked in and out of her thoughts. That was as close as she found to a mobster link. A beauty shop listed P. D’Amico as proprietor. That led nowhere. Kate gave up her search.

Since she needed to update her Web site, she took out a disk of photographs of her new stained-glass pieces that she’d brought along. Within the hour, her Web site was ready for holiday business. She then thought about trying to list some of her leftover summer items on eBay, thinking Christmas shoppers might buy them. She went to the Web site, curious.

A list of categories came up. She meant to click on “Art,” but her cursor hit “Antiques” instead. She moved her cursor to go back to the previous page. As she clicked, an object on the right side of the screen caught her attention. It was gone in an instant as the screen went to the previous page. Curious, she returned to the antiques page.

The item that had caught her attention was a thumbnail picture of a figurine. It looked familiar. She clicked on the small picture. It took her to a listing of a Dresden figurine. An old-fashioned gentleman with a ruffled ascot, holding a tricorn hat, seemed to be bowing. His hair was puffed up and held in back by a ribbon. She noticed the striped pants. That was just too coincidental. She’d recently seen that same figurine, if she wasn’t mistaken. The minimum bid was ninety-nine dollars.

She scrolled down to see the information on the seller. Florabunda was listed as a power seller. Kate was familiar enough with eBay to know it took lots of sales to become a power seller. She also knew that the word floribundus stood for a rose, but the seller’s name was misspelled.

Item location: Copper Mill, Tennessee, United States.

It had to be Flora. Now the second satellite dish made sense. Flora must have needed high-speed Internet to upload files and trade items on eBay.

Had Kate just stumbled on something significant?

The seller had a store. Kate clicked onto the link. It took her to Florabunda’s Attic. There in front of her eyes was the curtsying lady Dresden figurine that she’d seen in Flora’s kitchen.

Kate browsed through the merchandise. The store had a selection of handcrafted window boxes, planters, and composters. She wondered if Bertie had made them. There were kits for building raised beds and instructions on planting a raised-bed kitchen herb garden, with photographs of Flora’s garden.

Then Kate found several used small-garden implements. She knew people who shopped yard sales and flea markets, then resold their purchases for a profit. Perhaps Flora and Bertie did that, but she couldn’t help wondering if some of their items, like the Dresden figurines, came from the Mackenzie estate. And if they were selling the estate’s castoffs, did Gordon or Monica know about it?

She thought back to Flora’s words. She’d said that Gordon told Flora to take all the furnishings, and he didn’t care what she did with them. It seemed they had his blessing.

Kate wasn’t sure the discovery gave her any useful information, but she jotted down the name of the seller and store.

Kate tapped her fingers on the computer keys as she thought about all the people surrounding Jessica. Brian Levy came into her mind. Something about him didn’t sit quite right with her. How did he fit into the puzzle? She’d seen him in church again Sunday. Why was he still in town? She pulled up the site for Arroyo Robles Thoroughbred Ranch. She scrolled through the ranch’s directory of stallions available for stud service. The listings gave impressive statistics. She nearly choked at the prices. The top stallion listed offspring at $80,000 for a live foal and $236,000 for a yearling. She knew thoroughbreds were expensive, but two yearlings would more than replace the trust funds Jessica had lost.

Of the horses listed, three belonged to outside owners, Brian and his father owned one, and Gordon owned the fifth stallion, Fleetfoot Mac. Interesting name. Though it reminded Kate of a popular singing group from the seventies, the Mac probably stood for Mackenzie.

Fleetfoot Mac’s rankings showed that he’d won several races and placed in others. His pedigree looked impeccable. He was marked as not available for stud. Though Kate didn’t know a lot about thoroughbreds, she thought offspring would increase the horse’s value. Surely Gordon stood to make a great deal of money off him. Perhaps withholding the stallion from service was temporary.

All of the information on the Arroyo Robles Web site pointed to the fact that Brian Levy was successful and respected. Kate had been impressed by his manners and apparent loyalty. Gordon Mackenzie had invested in him by helping Brian and his father start the ranch. Was Gordon trying to keep that investment in the family? Was that the reason Brian was still in town? Was this Gordon’s way of trying to save his daughter from marrying a man of questionable character?

Any loving father would want to protect his child from heartbreak. Kate loved her son-in-law and daughter-in-law as if they were her own children. She and Paul had prayed for each of their children’s future spouses, and God had blessed each child with a wonderful, loving partner. But what would Paul have done—what would she have done—if there’d been a question of honesty or trust? She suspected that Gordon must feel very torn, wanting his daughter’s happiness while believing she was looking in the wrong place.

As Kate logged off the computer, she mentally listed what she knew. Gordon and Monica distrusted Trace. Flora and Bertie didn’t trust Anthony, yet the retired housekeeper and gardener seemed to be taking advantage of the Mackenzies’ generosity. Kristin took advantage of Jessica and Gordon, it seemed. What a tangled ball of strings, and poor Jessica was caught in the middle.

How could Kate help unwind the mess? Somehow she had to find the end of the string. And she couldn’t stop thinking about Brian and how he fit into the puzzle. Was he somehow caught up in circumstances like Jessica? Whether he would help or hinder the outcome of those circumstances remained to be seen.

“I ASKED MY FATHER AND MONICA to come to a session with us, Pastor Paul, but they turned me down. Monica said she’s too busy, and Dad said it’s not necessary.” Jessica sighed. “I don’t think things are fine, but I don’t know how to change it. Dad still believes I threw away my trust fund.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Paul said. “I would have loved to have him here. Remember, there’s very little we can control in this life, but we can control our reaction to circumstances and events, and we can control our choices. The beauty of it is that those two things will positively effect the outcomes.”

“Trace and I have talked about that,” she said, smiling at her fiancé. He took her hand. “We’re going to make decisions together, and we’ll work on my dad and Monica. They’ll come around eventually.”

“I figure they’ll come around as soon as we present them with a grandchild,” Trace said with a laugh. “But we’re not in a hurry. We want to get on our feet first.”

They spent the rest of the session working through making decisions and handling misunderstandings. As they role-played, Kate thought of some of the situations she and Paul had faced over the years. Their in-laws had blessed them both, but there had been conflicts. Kate realized, looking back, that she and Paul had grown closer as they’d worked together to resolve those issues.

Kate was once again grateful she and Paul had had a strong and loving family support system. She prayed Jessica and Trace would have that help from his family, if not from hers.

As Kate put on her jacket at the end of the session, Jessica came over to her.

“Kate, I was wondering if you’ve learned anything about my missing money.”

“I have some leads, but nothing conclusive yet.” Kate didn’t want to cast suspicion on anyone without positive proof. “But don’t worry. I won’t give up until the truth comes out.”

“Oh, I’m not worried. Just knowing you’re investigating is allowing me to focus on wedding planning.” Jessica gave Kate an appreciative smile and put her thumbs in her back pockets. “And I feel like...like you’re trying to protect me. I have to tell you...it’s the best wedding gift you can give me.”

“Well, I have never been able to resist a good mystery, and this one’s a doozy,” Kate said.

Jessica was right, Kate thought. She was trying to protect the young woman. But mostly, she was trying to keep her from suspecting her own fiancé, unless it became absolutely necessary.

Jessica nodded slowly and was quiet for a moment. Finally, her head shot up as if she had an idea.

“Do you ride horseback?” Jessica asked.

Kate shook her head. “I haven’t in years.”

“Would you like to come riding with me sometime? I can remind you what to do. Maybe tomorrow afternoon after I get home from teaching?”

“I’d love to, but I’ve never ridden in an English saddle.”

“No problem. We have Western saddles. We’ll both use them.”

“Oh.” Kate scratched the crown of her head. “Okay. I’d like that.” It would be a chance to get some exercise and, perhaps, some answers. “Oh, by the way, Jessica. Have you shown the tiara and necklace to the dressmaker yet?”

“Not yet. I have a fitting Friday after school. I thought I’d show her then. You’ll come, won’t you?”

“I wouldn’t miss it. Out of curiosity, did you end up taking the jewelry back to the bank?”

“No. It’s in the bottom of my mother’s chest that I had moved from the attic to my bedroom. I put it there as soon as I got home.”

Kate just nodded. She didn’t want to alarm Jessica or make any accusations until she saw the jewelry in the pawnshop for herself. If it turned out to be one of Amelia’s pieces, she’d have to alert the pawnshop and the sheriff, but not until she knew for sure.

KATE SPENT WEDNESDAY MORNING cleaning house and doing laundry. She’d just sat down for a tuna sandwich when the phone rang. The call had Kate hurrying through lunch and rushing out the door.

She pulled up in front of the pawnshop in Pine Ridge, dreading the encounter ahead. Her lunch felt like a lead weight in her stomach. Kristin had sold a pearl necklace outright, and the pawnshop owner had authenticated its value as far above the five-hundred-dollar price tag. Kate braced herself for what seemed to be the inevitable. Jessica would be devastated to discover that her cousin had stolen her mother’s necklace. And how could Kate not suspect that she’d also stolen from Jessica’s trust fund?

Kate said a quick prayer for wisdom before she walked into the shop. The man behind the counter was an older man, not the clerk she’d spoken with on Monday.

“Afternoon. Can I help you?”

“Hi. I spoke with you on the phone an hour ago about a pearl necklace. I’m Kate Hanlon.”

“Yes. You’re interested in the necklace we purchased. It’s a fine piece of jewelry.”

“I haven’t seen it yet, but I’m acquainted with the seller.”

“Ah. Then allow me to show you.” He went to a safe and stood in front of it while he opened it. He took out a flat velvet box and brought it to the counter. “You’ll notice the superior luster and grading of the pearls, and the exceptional color.” He opened the box and turned it toward her.

Kate stared. She blinked. The pearls weren’t pink. They were gray. She looked up at the man, who was smiling. He noticed her confusion and frowned.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes. No. I...I was expecting a different necklace. I’d assumed they were going to be pink pearls.”

He checked the tag against an invoice. “No. This is the necklace we purchased on Monday. We haven’t had another pearl necklace for a month. Notice the matched size and color of these pearls. They measure nine millimeters, which are less popular with the younger set. The nacre is thick. These are genuine Tahitian pearls, not dyed. Natural pink pearls are freshwater pearls. These pearls are more expensive.”

Kate smiled at the man, though her thoughts still reeled. This wasn’t Jessica’s necklace. At least not the one she had seen. “Thank you for calling me. I’m sorry. I’m interested in a pink pearl necklace.”

“No problem. This necklace will sell as fast as I list it online, and someone will buy a real treasure. If I come across a pink pearl necklace, I’ll give you a call.”

“Thank you.”

Kate got back in her car and sat for a moment, grateful she’d been spared the unpleasant task of reporting a theft. She still needed to make sure Jessica wasn’t missing a gray pearl necklace, but at least this proved some of her fears unfounded. Kristin hadn’t tried to pawn Jessica’s mother’s necklace. But that still didn’t clear her of taking money from the trust fund. That mystery remained unsolved.