If you want to know who committed a crime, take a look at who benefits the most.
That was what Alice was thinking after leaving Esther’s store. Vince’s death had resulted in the bookstore shutting down, the Oriels pulling out of the deal, and Bunce caving in to Darrell’s offer to buy.
So who was benefitting the most from Vince’s death?
The answer was obvious: Darrell.
Once her suspicion settled on him, she realized she’d felt it all along. Here was a guy who would go to great lengths to get what he wanted, even coercing the local police chief to shut down the bookstore.
The question was whether he still wore the necklace he’d bought from Esther. Or was it the one balled up in Alice’s pocket?
At the What the Dickens Diner, she asked Becca about Darrell and learned where to find the offices of his company, Townsend Development. She also learned that Darrell usually left work around 6 pm.
“He’s divorced and lives alone in a big house in the woods,” Becca explained. She frowned. “Hold on, Alice. You aren’t planning to do a stakeout, are you?”
Alice winced and looked around, worried someone had overheard them. In her excitement, Becca had forgotten to keep her voice down, emphasizing the word stakeout.
“I need to find out if he’s wearing a necklace,” Alice whispered.
“And if he isn’t?”
“Then I’ll…”
Alice frowned. She wasn’t sure what she’d do. If Esther had sold dozens of identical necklaces, it would be impossible to prove that the one she’d found was Darrell’s.
“Well, at least I’ll be one step closer.”
“Closer to what? Finding evidence against Darrell Townsend?” Becca pursed her lips. “Alice, you’d better know what you’re doing, because the Darrell Townsends of this world don’t take kindly to false accusations.”
“I thought you were encouraging me to investigate.”
“I am. I just worry…” She sighed. “I can hardly stop you. Your mom got into a whole heap of trouble, and I wouldn’t have wished her to hold back.”
Alice bit her lip. “Becca, you mentioned my mom solved some mysteries…”
“Your mom was a natural,” Becca said. “And so are you. I’m sure of it. But that doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous work. Speaking of work, I’d better bring this check to table four. And Lenny over there will want more coffee.”
Becca grabbed the pot of coffee. “Alice? Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I promise, I will be.”
Alice tried to smile and look confident, though she felt about as self-assured as a baby doe taking its first wobbly steps. She headed toward the exit, making sure to stride with confidence, and ignoring the desire to glance back over her shoulder.
When she got to the front door, she pulled hard. Confident. The door rattled but didn’t budge. She tried again. Extra confident. Extra hard.
Nothing.
A small sign in the window told her to “PUSH.”
“Crap,” she muttered to herself.
She glanced back at Becca, who was eyeing her with undisguised sympathy. And a lot of worry.