Chapter 11

Since my cover was blown, I went back to the group at the reception desk.

Howard Fourie nodded, his substitute for thanking me for making room for his dog to be a part of Lady Anthea’s class.

“Sue and Lady Anthea, my son and I are hosting a little dinner at the Gate House restaurant tomorrow evening, and we’d like you to join us,” he said, looking at Lady Anthea, then me, then back again. The way he had puffed up prior to extending the invitation made me think that by little dinner, he meant, big dinner.

I sensed that Lady Anthea was about to turn him down, so I had to act fast. “Sounds fun.” By that I meant the opposite. “We’d love to. Shelby, are you free?”

Fourie, the elder, gulped.

“I really should handle closing tomorrow night,” she said, giving me a look that said, I know what you’re doing and thanks but no thanks.

“I’ve reserved the Gate House for the evening,” said Howard, relieved and wheeling around to leave. “Do you know where that is?”

I nodded. “Yes, it’s very nice.”

David was following his father out and said over his shoulder, “Lewes has more than its fair share of elegant restaurants.”

I was pathetically and illogically thinking better of him after his compliment to my city, as I walked around the desk on the way to my office.

Lady Anthea and Shelby stood like statues, eyes glued to the doors. As soon as the men reached the pavement outside, Lady Anthea began, “I want to hear all about the murder!”

“We have to start with the robbery!” Shelby said.

They followed me back to my office. My cell phone was lit up because I had not one but two texts. I read them while Shelby, starting from the beginning, told Lady Anthea all that had happened since yesterday morning. The first text was from John Turner, who wanted me to go to dinner Wednesday night. Sorry, I have to work late.

I went on to the second text. “Thank goodness!” I yelled.

Both women turned to me. “Rick found his father!”

“I was just getting to Rick’s father’s part in all this,” Shelby said and sat on the sofa.

“He’s taking him to talk to Chief Turner and he wants me to go along.” I looked at the clock on my phone. “They’re meeting in half an hour,” I said, as I typed. “I’m telling him I’ll be there.”

Lady Anthea sat next to Shelby and seemed to relish all the details. While they talked I printed the roster for the Trick and Agility classes. At the end I handed the papers to Lady Anthea. She scanned them and then looked at me, with what one of my mysteries—I believe it was The Green, Green Grass over the Grave—called a gimlet eye. “Now tell me why you added Howard Fourie’s dog to my already full class!”

“I want to keep an eye on those men,” I said. “I think he’s trying to take a very, very old, rare and valuable artifact discovered on Lewes Beach out of the country.” I told them what I had heard David Fourie say.

Lady Anthea clapped her hands. “Very old artifact? How old? Fifteenth century? Sixteenth century?”

“Uh, nooooo,” I said. “The ship sank in 1774.”

“That’s not old,” she said.

“It is to us,” I said, standing up for our country.

“How valuable? And what type of relic is it? A tool or maybe jewelry?”

“Well, see, there’s this winery in South Africa named Groot Constantia Estate and Winery. And a British ship, the Severn, was carrying some wine made there,” I said.

“Lewes has a bottle of wine from the eighteenth century! That is remarkable!” Shelby and I tried to interrupt Lady Anthea but she was getting excited. “Or are you saying the town has a case…”

Finally, Shelby touched her arm. “It’s just the bottom of a wine bottle.”

“What?” Lady Anthea was incredulous. “What makes it rare? Was that all that remained of the ship’s cargo?”

“Uh, not exactly,” Shelby said. “There were about fifty-six thousand pieces. When the US Army Corp of Engineers dredged the bay people starting finding artifacts washed up onto Lewes Beach. There were some buttons, pipes, and buckles for shoes…”

“Lewes has fifty-six thousand pieces in its museum?” she asked, back to being enthralled.

“No, most of it went to the Delaware state archives,” I said.

“To protect the bottom of a bottle you overfilled my training class?” she asked. “The bottom of a wine bottle is not exactly the Temple of Dendur.”

“Plus, I have us going to dinner with a bunch of corporate stiffs,” I admitted. “I’m sharing the pain.”

“Easy now,” Shelby said. “That’s what my husband used to be.” She paused before starting again. “I’d like to make a suggestion. After the dinner, let protecting the artifact go and concentrate on the murder. That’s much more important.”

“Ahhh,” I said. I had just figured out why John had that expression on his face when he saw me eavesdropping on David Fourie. “Chief Turner thinks this will keep me busy and I’ll leave Billy B.’s murder investigation to him.”

“I’m not keen on disagreeing with you, Shelby, but maybe we should investigate what the Fouries are up to, rather than the murder,” Lady Anthea said. “It’s obvious Rick Ziegler’s father is involved. If he’s not the murderer, he might be an accomplice. And Rick might be asking you to help his father get away with a crime.”

I was shaking my head. “I don’t think he killed that man.”

“Because you think Rick’s a great guy?” Shelby asked.

I squirmed since I’d never even met his father, and finally admitted, “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like someone with a son like Rick could be a murderer.”

“I understand that Rick is a free spirit, but your reasoning would hardly stand up in court,” Lady Anthea said. “One scenario is that this Billy B. individual stole the automobile from Mr. Ziegler. Another is that the car owner let Billy B. use his car to come and break in to Buckingham’s. Neither option is pleasant. Have you considered that?”

“I don’t know enough to consider anything.” I shrugged my shoulders and stood. “I better get going if I’m going to meet Rick at the police station. I’ll know more after I hear what he has to say. I understand if you don’t want to go with me. Would you rather stay here and begin setting up for your class?”

“No, I had better accompany you,” Lady Anthea said, getting up from the sofa.

Shelby said, “Good! Protect her from herself.”

“Protecting Chief Turner from her is what I had in mind,” Lady Anthea said and we promenaded out.