Chapter 5

I woke up the morning after the party bright-eyed if not bushy-tailed, showered, dressed, and went down to the kitchen to make some coffee.

Jack walked in yawning, his hair sleep-tousled. “Gillian’s taking a shower. She’ll be out in a few minutes. What’s for breakfast?”

“Coffee, juice, croissants with jam and butter. What do you feel like? Pancakes? Cold pizza?”

Gillian appeared, towel-drying her hair. “I need coffee.”

My phone pinged. “It’s from Ricardo. They’ll be here within the hour.” I texted back that it was fine.

Gillian fixed coffee for herself and Jack. “Is that about the web site for Crystalline?”

“I assume so.” I stuck my phone in my pocket. “Okay. Breakfast?”

Gillian ran her fingers through her drying hair. “I think I’ll help myself to a croissant with jam. Not really hungry after last night.”

Jack already had his nose in the fridge. He emerged a moment later with a baggie of pizza slices. “I know what you mean. I feel kinda logy today.”

I felt it, too. Lethargy that I didn’t think was entirely due to party hangover. I took my coffee and went through the archway into the living room, slipped into the glider, and sighed. “I still have cleanup from the party.” I looked over at the Art Deco figurines on the coffee table. “Are these the ones you think will sell?”

Gillian followed me with her coffee and perched on the end of the couch near my chair. “Yes, those are the ones from the built-in cabinet to the left of the fireplace. I haven’t finished with the right. Tell me what you want to keep. I think they’re all saleable and given that you’re in need of money…”

I looked them over. “Good choices. While they’re very delicate and pretty, I’m fine with selling them. The benefit of buying a house with contents included.”

“Good. I’ve already done the research online. I’ll write up descriptions, take pictures, and list them…later.”

“Thanks, Gillian. I appreciate the help.”

Jack emerged from the kitchen munching a slice of pizza. “Why don’t I invite George over to help me get the car street legal?”

“Great idea, but does George even know about Doris’ car? I’m not sure he does.” I tried to remember if we’d ever mentioned finding Doris’ old Packard convertible stashed in the rickety shed out back.

Jack shrugged. “Then he has a treat in store.”

“Boys and their toys. I remember you sitting on the floor with those little toy trucks going ‘vroom vroom.’ You were so cute.”

“Yeah, well, I remember you sitting next to me and running over my little trucks with your big truck!”

I chuckled at the memory. “Girls like their toys, too.”

Gillian smiled. “Now, now, children. But Jack has a point. If Cass isn’t going to make a move, I guess it’s up to us.”

“Guys, please. He knows how I feel.”

Gillian raised an eyebrow. “Really? I didn’t know you told him.”

“I didn’t. You know that.”

“When did he develop the ability to read minds?”

“Gill—”

She held up her hand. “Cass, he can’t read your mind. You have to open up to him. Be honest. Take a risk.”

Someone rapped on the door. “I’ll get it.” Relieved to get out of answering her, I got up and let my visitors in.

“Hi, guys,” Ricardo said, hanging his jacket on the coat rack.

“Grab a seat.”

Mia said, “Can we set up at the table? It’s easier with the laptops.”

“Works for me. Anything to drink?”

“Coffee?” Ricardo said, and Mia nodded as she connected to my Wi-Fi and brought up the web site for Crystalline.

I looked over Mia’s shoulder. “Those are gorgeous photos.”

“Thanks,” Ricardo said.

“You know you could make a career of photography.”

“Thanks again, but I prefer design.”

I nodded. “You’re good at it. Does Samantha intend to keep a witchy theme or is this seasonal?”

“Seasonal,” Mia said. “Unlike Brendan, Samantha wants her site to change periodically, and she’s willing to pay extra for that maintenance.”

“If we can get enough customers to buy maintenance, we can get a steady income stream going.” Ricardo leaned back in his chair. “We’re still discussing which cycles to use. Maybe seasonal or holidays. Her background is Catholic, but she’s very New Age in her approach to her shop.”

“True.”

“So what do you think?” Mia asked.

“I think the site is brilliant. I also think we need to pin her down on how often we change the look. Halloween and Christmas are obvious, but Thanksgiving would be pushing it. We don’t want to change it every month. Too much maintenance.”

Mia said, “There’s always the wheel of the year in the Celtic calendar. They divided the year up into parts like spokes on a wheel. I’m not sure that each of the festivals was a fire festival, but I can look that up.”

I nodded. “It would provide a unifying theme for her site and still fit in with the combined community that we want to create by linking the sites using local myths and legends.” As I said ‘legends,’ my memory of Dave’s proposed legends tour washed over me, reminding me of Amelia’s death. I leaned on the back of a chair.

Mia tilted her head. “Are you all right?”

“Not really. I think I’m having a delayed reaction to Dave’s aunt’s death.”

“Sit down.”

I pulled the chair out and sat.

“Do they know cause of death yet?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so, and I haven’t turned on the TV today.”

Ricardo pulled the computer over and did a quick search for the Celtic calendar. “Here we go. Four major festivals in the Celtic calendar: Samhain on November first, Imbolc on February first, Beltane on May first, and Lughnasadh on August first. We could go with a hybrid because I’m quite sure she’ll want to do Christmas. She does a lot of business at Christmas and Valentine’s. Isn’t there a solstice? What about Yule?”

“More research.” Mia re-engaged. “We don’t have to be exact. We just need to have internal logic that customers will understand, that Samantha will be okay with, and that we can handle from a business point of view.”

“Samhain is Halloween. That’s a good one to start with because most people already know the myths,” I said. “If we launch soon, it’s still valid.”

Mia said, “Most other sites are into Christmas already, so we could do Yule.”

“Good point. Are we agreed that we’re ready to get Samantha’s approval even though we don’t have the holiday themes completely worked out yet?”

Ricardo said, “Any problem with my presenting it to her? I have a shift there later today.”

“Works for me. What about you, Mia?”

She closed the laptop. “I’ll do more research on Yule and gather info and motifs for each ‘turn of the wheel.’” She stood and put her jacket back on. “I’m also following a possible lead for an update to the campus tour video. Might be another job for us.”

“Sounds good. I’ll run our plans by Samantha.” Ricardo packed up the computer. “See you later.” He and Mia left.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Gillian said. “But it sounds as though things are going well.”

“Now I have to solve the problem of George and Doris.” I frowned.

“You two can work that out. I plan to be nose-deep in grease in…” Jack looked at his watch, “about five minutes.”

Gillian rolled her eyes. “Ever since he discovered Doris’ old car he’s been dying to get it running and street legal.”

“Did you get hold of George yet? You could ask him about Darius while you’re telling him about the car.”

“Cass is right. Give him a call. Tell him about the car. Where’s your cell?”

Jack dragged it out of his back pocket with two fingers and held it up.

Gillian raised her eyebrows and cocked her head at him.

Jack laughed. “Okay, Sweet Pea.” He turned to me. “Cass, what’s his number?”

I had to get my cell out of my pocket to look up George’s number. “Nobody remembers phone numbers anymore.” I read it to him.

He punched it in. “Hey, George. Bad time? Uh huh. What’s happening with that? Do you think he did it? Uh huh. I know. Just thought I’d ask. Say, did I ever tell you about the car I found out in the shed behind Cass’? No, no. Not stolen. It’s a 1920-something Packard convertible. Pretty good condition considering.” He paused. “I’ll be here.” He shoved the phone back in his pocket. “He’s off duty and on his way.”

“What did he say about Darius?” Gillian asked.

“He was treated and released to Brendan. Niles and Dave showed up at the hospital and talked to him. It’s being treated as a suspicious death, but they are waiting on an autopsy. And I quote, ‘Despite what you see on TV, they don’t happen overnight.’”

“Thanks for trying, Jack. I’m going to change before we have more company.” I headed up the circular stairs to my loft.

“Nothing wrong with your clothes,” Jack called up after me and laughed.

In any other bungalow, the loft would have been the attic, but it was completely finished with a window at the top that overlooked the ocean and loads of under-eaves storage. After going through my entire wardrobe, I rejoined Gillian downstairs in time for Jack and George’s return to the house.

“Great car!” George rubbed his hands together. “Let me know when you get it running. The paperwork shouldn’t be too difficult. There’s an application for historic cars. You knew there’d be paperwork. But the important things are that the car must be manufactured after 1922…”

Jack said, “Check.”

“Be of historic interest.”

“Check.”

“And be at least twenty-five years old.”

“Check.”

“There are fees. You’ll need to request historic plates. Also, you may face limitations on how far and where you can drive it, such as to car shows or within a couple hundred miles of home for pleasure. Do you plan to keep it here or take it home with you?”

To me, he sounded like a little kid with a new toy, and my heart warmed.

Jack couldn’t stand still. “Can’t believe it’s in such good shape. I want to keep it that way. Nowhere to keep it in Berkeley. Okay if I keep it here, Cass?”

“No problem, but you’ll have to do some work on that shed. It’s an eyesore right now. Maybe George will help?”

“Happy to.” George grinned. “While I’m here, I do have a question for you, Cass.”

“Oh?”

“Do you know anything about a treasure associated with this house? Possibly associated with bootleggers?”

I knew I had a source in Doris, but I couldn’t tell George that. “I think there was mention of it in some notes on the history of this house I got from Mia’s mom. Her dad researched the house for a book. Why do you ask?”

“Do you have those notes? Do you mind if I wash my hands?” George asked.

“You know where the sink is. I’ll look for the notes.”

George went into the kitchen.

“Gillian, we moved stuff to get ready for Halloween. Do you know where the box with the manuscript is?” I asked.

“I think it’s in the spare bedroom. I’ll check.” Gillian headed down the hall.

Jack frowned. “Didn’t Dave mention digging up buried treasure when he talked to you about doing a legends tour?”

“Did he now?” George came back, wiping his hands on a paper towel. “Why does Dave want to do a legends tour?”

I exchanged a look with Jack. “He seems to be in need of money. I need money, too. He thought we could work together to solve both of our financial problems.”

“Would you happen to know if Dave inherits from his aunt?” George threw the paper towel in the trash.

My throat felt dry. “I believe both boys might inherit, but Dave did tell me once that he was the recipient of the trust at that time.” I hesitated and George’s eyes narrowed. I sighed. “Dave said his aunt was here to discuss trust business with himself and Niles. She brought her accountant with her.”

“You’re just telling me about the accountant now? Do you happen to know this accountant’s name?” George glowered at me but made notes.

“Gerry Waverley.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Jack said. “Why are you looking for buried treasure?”

George raised an eyebrow. “I hadn’t thought about it being buried.” He turned to me. “You know your house has a reputation for being haunted.”

I bit my lip. “So I’ve been told.” I really had to tell him about Doris soon before… I didn’t even want to think about it.

“Your neighbor Mina has written several books about local legends and included a few about your house.”

“Uh huh.”

Gillian returned with a folder and handed it to George. He dumped the contents on my dining room table, separated out the photos, and quickly scanned the typed pages, pausing on two of them.

“This indicates that the woman who lived in this house might have had a fortune in gems secreted in this house or on the premises. She was a bootlegger’s mistress.”

The air vibrated. “George, first off, it’s probably a treasure hunter’s tale. They’re rife out here in California. Second, if that information gets out, everyone and his brother’s uncle will show up here with shovels. It’s why I didn’t want Dave to do his tour.”

A flicker of a smile touched the corner of George’s mouth. “Have you read Mina’s books?”

My gaze cut to my built-in bookcase in the living room where I’d shelved Mina’s ghost story books. “Not entirely. I’ve read a number of the essays and stories relating to ghosts.”

“I’d say word is already out. Try doing a scan through her books for stories about treasure.”

“Mina told us to read her stories,” Gillian reminded me.

Jack nodded. “I thought she did it to promote her books.”

George put the papers back in the folder. “She may have, but I’m sure all your neighbors know about your house and the treasure.”

I slumped. “Great.”

“Is this related to the woman’s death?” Gillian asked.

“No idea. We follow up on all kinds of things.” George smiled at her.

“You told Jack her death was suspicious. Is that true?” I asked.

“What do you think of Dave and his cousin?”

“Was it murder? Are they suspects?”

“Don’t you know by now that with George everyone’s a suspect?” Jack said.

I nodded. “Niles seems like a nice guy. A little tighter wound than Dave.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Everyone is tighter wound than Dave.”

“Why do you ask, George?” Gillian asked.

George shrugged. “We took their info as a matter of course.” George scrolled though his messages. “If you’re through grilling me, I’d better get going.”

“Hold it,” I said. “Do you know how she died? I do have an interest given that you thought I was the intended victim…if she was a victim.”

George pursed his lips. “She was.”

I nodded. “Murdered.”