“What are we doing here, Uncle Scrooge?” Neil asked as I climbed out of the Mini.
“Solving a 7-decade old mystery,” I said, as I crossed the cracked shell driveway and rang the doorbell.
Detective Frank Finn opened the door, looking surprised to see me. “Mrs. Phillips? What are you doing here?”
“Hello, detective. I was just wondering if you had heard about your grandfather’s friend, Charles Peter Randolph the third.”
Frank Finn shook his head, his expression neutral. “No, I haven’t spoken to gramps. Did something happen?”
“He passed away. I’m surprised your grandfather didn’t tell you about it.”
“I haven’t spoken to him,” Finn said.
“Would you say the two of you are close?” I asked.
He stared at me as though I’d lost my mind. “Not really.”
“But he did tell you about the treasure, right.”
Frank Finn’s shoulders slumped. “Yes.”
“You were the one who broke into the Dale estate,” I said.
He didn’t deny it, didn’t wave us in or pull a firearm and threaten to shoot us. “How did you figure it out?”
“It’s what she does,” Neil’s tone held a note of pride.
“After Chester died, your grandfather told you about the treasure and asked you to check out where he’d lived. I thought it was funny that Sarah had never met your grandfather or any of the others. At first, I thought it was because Chester was trying to control her and keep her locked away on the estate. But it was more than that, wasn’t it?”
“He didn’t want them to know how he was living.” Frank nodded.
“Right. Here are his three old war buddies barely eking by in a state-run facility and good old Chester is just up the road, living the life of Riley. How do you suppose that happened?”
“He had a profitable business,” Neil said. “He built it up over the years.”
“Right, but he needed seed money to get started. You and I both know what it’s like scraping by on military pay. There was no way he could have saved enough to buy that lumber yard yet according to public record, he began operations a month after his final tour of duty was up. Which you found out when you started digging, right detective?”
He nodded, his expression bland.
“So did you find any evidence that Chester took the treasure? I’d hate to think your B&E efforts were for nothing.”
He sighed and leaned against the doorjamb. “No, I didn’t find anything. Sarah came back before I could do too much looking. I memorized her schedule and went into the house when she went for her morning ride, but haven’t found a shred of evidence to prove he took the treasure. That place is a disaster area.”
I shook my head. “And here I was going to try to set you up with her.”
“Told you that you shouldn’t play matchmaker,” Neil grumbled.
Finn ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I didn’t mean to scare her. I just wanted something to show gramps to give him a little peace. He wouldn’t let up about Chester being murdered. It wasn’t my jurisdiction and I had no proof but if Dale had taken the German cache and one of the others found out about it, well, there was motive.”
“Right.” I’d been thinking along the same lines myself.
“After seeing her with her relatives I backed off because clearly there’s enough drama in that family already. And the man was dead.” His gaze sharpened. “Wait, did you say that another one of them has died?”
“Charles,” Neil confirmed. “It looked like a stroke.”
“I don’t like it.” Finn paced his front porch. “Two of them in a month just when word is getting out about this treasure. There’s a reason tontines are illegal.”
“Just so we’re clear you didn’t try to kidnap me? Or mess around with Sarah’s furnace?”
He stopped, feet planting mid-step. “What?”
I shrugged. “Just checking.”
He looked from me to Neil. “Is she serious?”
“You can’t blame her for asking,” Neil said. “You admitted to not playing by the rules and breaking into the Dale house. Who knows how far you’d go?”
Frank looked mildly offended at the accusation but then shook his head. “No, you’re right, I shouldn’t have done it.”
So, one puzzle piece in place. “You need to tell Sarah what you did.”
“I know.”
“Now.” It was getting late, though the sun was still up. “Let’s go.”
“Where to now?” Neil asked.
“The Dale estate.”
I called Mac’s cell on the way over to check-in, but she said all was quiet. “My mom said she’d take out her find Sylvia fee in trade. One casserole meal a month for a year.”
“You McKenzies drive a hard bargain.” I smiled. “Tell her done and done.”
“She really likes you,” Mac said. “I hold out hope she’ll be more like you when she grows up.”
“Thanks, kid.” Tears welled in my eyes. After the day I’d had, a little positive reinforcement that I was not the source of all evil, at least in somebody’s book, was a very good thing.
The driveway was full of cars and music filtered from the open windows.
“Looks like she’s having a party. Is that Leo’s car?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“This can wait,” Finn piped up from the back seat. “Can’t it?”
I’d already popped my car door. “No.”
The sound of feminine laughter greeted us as Sarah opened the door. “There you are!” She grabbed my forearm and towed me inside before I could get out another word.
All the blood drained from my face when I saw the display in the living room. Penny and her sisters playing pin the shlong on the stud. Leo and Sylvia engaged in a heated ring toss for state of the art vibrators. And Penny’s Mom, holy Moses and a bag of chips Penny’s Mom in full dominatrix regalia. This so wasn’t leather boot weather and sweat ran down her beat red face.
I recognized Lulubell’s owner as she held a riding crop in one hand and a whip in the other.
Damn it, I’d forgotten all about the stupid Sizzle and Sins party. And the picture before me would haunt me forever.
Behind me, Neil made a sound that was half snorting, half choking. Detective Finn coughed discreetly.
Sarah turned back to say something to me when she noticed the men. She blushed to the roots of her hair when she spied Detective Finn. “Oh,” was all she managed.
“I win, Sylvie-pregtastic,” Leo slurred. He was rip-roaring drunk and brandishing a purple phallus like a weapon. The transparent filter that usually kept Leo’s acerbic tongue in check vanished when he drank. “So suck it. Maggie, you’re here!”
Sylvia did an abrupt about face and marched off to examine the ball gags.
“Don’t remind me,” I muttered under my breath. “How much have you had?”
He held his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart, then thought about it and added another inch and giggled.
“Okay Sparky, we’re going to find a quiet place for you to lie down now. Upstairs?” I asked Sarah.
She was trying to hide behind her hair, her face beet red, but she nodded.
“Give me a hand here, Neil.”
For his trouble, my husband was hit in the face no less than three times with the purple penis before he slung Leo over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and hauled him upstairs.
“Be still my heart,” Leo quipped.
“I’m more concerned with your hands,” I told my friend as I followed them up. “Keep ‘em to yourself.”
“Spoilsport.” Leo pouted at me, the gesture less effective since he hung like human moss down Neil’s back.
Neil took Leo into the first room on the left and dumped him on the bed.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” Leo groaned, his elation all but gone.
I rushed for a wastebasket and shoved it under his face just in time.
Neil gripped my arm and pulled me aside. “Maggie, he’s got a problem.”
“Of course he does,” I said, stepping into the adjoining bathroom to wet a washcloth. The sound of retching followed us. “He works for your folks.”
“I’m serious,” Neil said. “Every time I see him lately he has a drink in hand. He needs help.”
I looked from my husband’s concerned expression to my friend, lying prone on the bed. Was he right? Had Leo crossed the threshold from overindulging once in a while to high functioning alcoholism? “What can we do?”
Neil ran a hand through his hair. “Right now? Let him sleep it off. We came here for a reason, let’s make sure Finn fesses up.”
Finn and Sarah were out on the back patio when Neil and I came downstairs. They were settled on chaises overlooking the gardens. Finn’s head was down, staring at the patio and Sarah was focused on him.
“So it wasn’t my relatives trying to have me declared unfit? It was you?”
Finn nodded. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I shouldn’t have let him get to me like that but gramps just wouldn’t let up about it. He was convinced Chester was murdered because of the German cache and the tontine.”
“Did you know about the tontine?” I asked Sarah. She shook her head her eyes still glued on the detective.
“You could have just asked me.” She whispered. “About it. I would have helped you look.”
Finn blinked. “Why would you do that?”
She smiled at him. “So I could spend more time with you, of course.”
“Really?” It was Finn’s turn to blush.
The two of them stared into each other’s eyes. Ah, what was a little B&E in the face of true love?
Neil cleared his throat. “So you don’t want to press charges?”
Sarah blinked up at him as if she’d forgotten he was there. “No, of course not. I didn’t even know for sure that someone was searching.”
Neil and I made our excuses and left the love birds alone.
“You think they’ll make it?” Neil asked me.
“I think his moral compass doesn’t point due north but he cares about her, so yes, I do think they’ll make it.”
Neil pulled me into a tight hug. “I love that you’re such an optimist. Ready to go?”
I shook my head. “I want to talk to Sylvia. You take the car, I’ll drive Leo home.”
My husband eyeballed me. “You have your pepper spray?”
“Do you really think Sylvia or Penny will attack me?”
He just raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, I have it, even though I don’t plan on using it.”
I tried to give him a quick kiss but he pulled me in tighter for a more thorough embrace. When he finally let me go every extremity tingled.
“You just want me to buy some of those marital aides,” I gasped.
He laughed. “You caught me.”
Wait, what? “Are you serious?”
The sexy bastard winked and patted my backside. “Surprise me.”
Just for that, I would.
I made my way back to the festivities. Penny rushed to my side. “Oh, Maggie, this is so much fun,” she drawled. “Thank you ever so much.”
“I didn’t do much,” I said because it was the truth.
“Sure you did.” She hugged me. “I want you to know you’ve been like a sister to me, helping out with Mae and everything. Marty’s not the only one who will miss you.”
My eyes stung. I wasn’t ready to think about them leaving but asked, “When will you go?”
“Next week, I think. Mama’s already found us a place to rent and I can go work in the salon with her part-time.”
“That’s great, Penny. Hey, would you excuse me for a minute, I want to go talk with Sylvia.”
“Sure, sure.” Penny patted my arm once and flitted off.
I cornered Sylvia by the punch bowl. “Can we talk?”
She turned to face me, her mouth set in a firm line. “If you want.”
I took a deep breath and pushed it all out in a rush. “I’m sorry I’ve been running roughshod over you. Marty and Penny are moving down south and you’ll have your house back. I promise I’m not judging you but I do care about you and if getting back together with Eric makes you happy, then go for it.”
She blinked and I took my leave before she could say anything. I was too raw at the moment, my emotions too close to the surface. The last thing I wanted was to say something else we’d both regret.
I made my way back upstairs to check on Leo. He was in the same position I’d left him, face down and snoring like a buzz saw. Moving over to the window, I stared out at the immaculate grounds when I saw a familiar figure stalking across the lawn.
What the heck was Doctor Davenport doing here and why did he look so hacked off? Sarah might be a little loopy at times, but I doubted she’d invited her father’s aged physician to the Sizzle and Sins party. I opened the window and called to him but he didn’t so much as budge.
Pivoting on my heel, I made to rush from the room and ran smack into the grumpy landscaper.
“Sorry,” I said and tried to rush past him, but the grizzled old guy gripped me by my shoulders. “I have to catch someone—”
The words died in my throat as I caught sight of his face. Specifically his eyes, the same color, and shape of Sarah’s.
“You,” I breathed a second before the needle went into my arm. The world narrowed to a pinprick and faded to blackness.