Chapter 13
I put my hand on her forearm and gave a gentle squeeze. “Tina, they’ll find out who stole the jewelry and murdered Mrs. Porter.”
“The question is when,” she replied. “Before I get arrested? I think Hensley’s convinced I stole the stuff, and I’m sure she’d be happy to clean up what’s been happening by putting the murder on me as well.”
“She’s not doing the investigating. It’s not her call.” I paused. “As best you can, put your fears in a mental box, put it aside, and trust the police to work it out. Deputy Sheriff Stanton is a fair man and not one to jump to conclusions.”
Tina took a deep breath. “Okay, Kelly. That’s good advice. Worrying won’t make any difference.”
“Think about the cooking classes and how much you enjoy them.”
Tina nodded and pulled a tissue from her pocket. She wiped off the black smeared mascara that had collected under her eyes from her tears. “Thanks. I better go help get the afternoon appetizers ready for Ridley House.” She gave me a grateful look and left.
Next, I needed to talk to Stevie. I walked to his RV and knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” Stevie asked.
“It’s me, Kelly.”
He opened the door. His face was a mottled red. The dogs were leaning on his legs and looking up at him. No wagging tails.
“I wanted to check on how you’re doing.”
With a slow movement, he pushed the door open wider. “Come on in.”
Stevie turned. He had a multicolored cloth band around his wispy gray ponytail. I walked up the steps behind him. His home on wheels had a brown couch on the opposite wall, a dining area with booth seating on my left, and a beige vinyl chair on my right. A vine in a macramé holder hung down in the corner of the eating area.
He pointed to the chair. “Please, have a seat. Would you like some iced tea?” His voice sounded wooden and mechanical.
“That would be nice.”
He got a glass from a dish rack and went to the small refrigerator. He opened it and pulled out some ice and a pitcher of tea. His movements reminded me of spaceship pilots in a weightless environment—calculated, methodical, deliberate.
His blotched face and almost catatonic demeanor worried me. What could I do to help him? I looked around the vehicle as I thought about it. I spied two dogs beds, one blue and one pink, with monogrammed names in fancy white letters. A cream-colored candle on the kitchen counter probably accounted for the faint, sweet smell of jasmine.
He handed me the tea and sank down on the couch, slumping back into the cushions. “Tell me I’m dreaming. It’s all a nightmare. I’m going to wake up from this, and everything will be normal.” His eyes pleaded with me. “Right?”
“Stevie, I wish I could say that was the case. I do believe there will be a time when it will all seem like a bad dream, and it’ll be over.”
He nodded—a weary, resigned movement. He took off his gold wire-rimmed glasses, and pulled a cloth from a drawer next to him. Slowly, methodically, he wiped the round lenses. He put the glasses in his lap and rubbed his eyes and then his face.
“The police will get it all figured out,” I said
“The attack on my mom. The woman being murdered. All this craziness. What’s it about?”
“I don’t know, but the Silver Sentinels are working on it as well.”
He gave a slight smile. “Mom loves being part of that group.”
I felt a shift in emotion from him. “They serve the community and accomplish a lot. They have a right to feel proud.”
He straightened his back and stretched.
“We’ll get to the bottom of it,” I said.
Soon, I hope. Very soon.
“Thanks, Kelly. I feel a bit better.”
“Why don’t you share that with your kids?”
The beagles had continued to lean on him with worried looks on their faces. Stevie patted his lap and both were on it in a nanosecond, tails wagging. He hugged them one at a time and sat back.
“Daniel told me you rescued them.”
“Yes.” He rubbed the back of Jill’s ear, and she sank farther into his chest. “I’d been thinking about getting a dog. When a rescue group set up at a local park, I decided to stroll through the pens.”
I sipped my tea and was relieved to see Stevie’s face regain its normal color.
“These two were together, Jill pressing against the far side of the enclosure, trembling, with Jack at her side, watchful of the milling strangers. The group wanted to adopt them out together, but Jack was very protective, and they hadn’t been successful.”
“How did you manage to convince Jack to trust you?”
“I sat outside their area softly talking to them for about half an hour. Jill peeked over Jack’s back. She ducked down again but looked up after another ten minutes. I decided to sing, and that did it.”
“Sing?”
“Yeah, ‘Where Have All the Flowers Gone’ won her over, and she came to the fence and licked my hand. Jack was right beside her, watching my every move.”
“It’s great you were so patient.”
“I got into the pen and sat on the grass, and Jill crept into my lap. Jack stayed a few feet away. I was going through every folk song I knew to get him closer. Partway through ‘The Sounds of Silence’ Jack decided that was his song. He wasn’t ready to get in my lap, but he sat down next to me.”
“And now you’re a family.”
“Yes, now we’re a family. Jack sings with me now.” Stevie sang a few lines of the Simon and Garfunkel song in a soft, mellow voice. Jack tilted his head back and crooned along with him.
We laughed, and I thought about how good the happiness felt. Stevie looked and sounded like himself again. Talking about the dogs had brought him out of his dark place. I decided to keep it going. A picture on the wall of the three of them in front of the motor home with the slogan on the side caught my eye.
“How did they become professional sniffers?”
He grinned. “It started out as something fun for us to do. I’d heard about it and wanted to see if I could train them. They were superstars at it. So . . . here we are. I travel up and down the coast. Michael has me on contract to do his properties, and I get jobs as I travel. My hours are flexible, and it allows me to spend time with my mom. I love it.” He looked at his watch. “Speaking of Mom, I want to get home so I’m there when she gets back.”
I finished the last of my drink and stood. “Thanks for the tea. Time for me to go, too.”
“Mom always says do what you can to solve a situation and then put it aside and get on with life.” Stevie looked at me. “This is a good time for me to do just that.”
“Good advice.” And now I need to apply it to myself.
“Stop by any time.” He opened the door and pulled keys out of his pocket. “To the truck, Jack and Jill.”
The dogs shot out of the RV and raced to a small dusty green pickup.
“See you later,” I said and walked back to the mansion. Tina and Stevie seemed in a better place. Now if someone could help me.
I drove the pickup to the carriage house and retrieved the box. As I reached the Redwood Cove B & B parking lot, my cell phone rang. The number identified it as Scott.
“Hi.” I was almost home.
“An emergency meeting’s been called. We need you to come back to Redwood Heights now. We’re in the office.”
“Okay. No problem. See you in a few.”
What had happened now? I pulled into the driveway of my place and did a U turn. I parked in front of the mansion and walked in. The three policemen, Scott, Corrigan, Daniel, and Hensley were there.
Corrigan greeted me with a quick hug. “Good to see you. Sorry we haven’t had a chance to talk yet.”
I returned the light embrace. “Good to see you, too, Michael.”
“There’s a chair over there.” He pointed to one next to Detective Rodriguez.
I sat and waited.
Deputy Sheriff Stanton stood and addressed the group. “As you’re aware, the dead woman was not Sylvia Porter, an employee working for Preston Insurance. We’ve been working to find out who she was.”
Stanton looked directly at Corrigan. “Sylvia Porter was actually Mrs. Sylvia Madison. She worked for Resorts International. She worked for you, Mr. Corrigan.”