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It was time to get ready to go to my grandparents’ house. They didn’t live too far away, over by Lake of the Isles, one of several chain lakes in the heart of Minneapolis. They’d sold their house right after my wedding.
“I’m sending a message to Frances because she should know about the acorn,” I said to Aaron. The message explained how we found the necklace and would like to investigate further. Also, I told Frances the police wanted me to examine the dress because the hem felt odd. “Done,” I said after pressing the send button.
“I’m sure the police are in contact with her. Let’s keep the necklace in an evidence bag and secure it in our lockbox,” Aaron said.
“Grandma knows several university professors through the Garden Club, and one may be an expert in analyzing and dating historical pieces,” I said. “We must discover what the necklace is about, such as, is it relevant and why?”
“I’ll ask the detectives if we can have help in identifying it,” Aaron said.
“Here.” I handed it over. “It’s time for me to get dressed.”
After dressing into a pair of jeans, top, and pullover sweater, I asked, “How do I look?”
“Gorgeous.” When he kissed me, I felt beautiful.
“Thank you,” I said. “Not to belabor the subject, why would Mary, if it was she, have kept it hidden in the bottom of the hatbox?” The hair on the back of my neck seemed to twitch, which wasn’t a good sign. “I’m going to find out if there’s really a nut inside the silver or not.”
“The detectives are eager to gain as much information as can be gleamed from it. Mergens is befuddled. All the clues are convoluted, and they don’t have the time to figure out nuts. They have a strong idea who the killer was but without a motive, they’re at a loss.”
“Let’s hope we’ll be able to ask someone a few questions about silver-plated jewelry.”
“It’s possible. We have to keep the police and the Mary Todd Lincoln House updated.” Aaron’s phone dinged, and he read the message out loud: “The hockey practice tonight has been moved to Longfellow Park. Burgers at afterwards. Five o’clock.”
“It’s time to load up the gear. We’ll have to go right from Grandma’s to practice.”
“Right. How about you grab your outside clothes, and I’ll run downstairs for my equipment?” Aaron suggested.
“Got it.” I hurried to the bedroom, grabbed an extra heavy Norwegian knitted sweater—a Christmas gift—as well as leggings. The boots, extra mittens, and cap, I grabbed from the closet.
After Aaron used auto-start to warm up the car, we put on our outerwear and went out to the car. As we pulled out of the garage and out into the street, I noticed that the neighborhood children weren’t outside. No flying snowballs for us to dodge.
“Now that it’s colder, it’s gotten more slippery, I see,” Aaron stated, turning a corner.
Reaching Lake Calhoun, we made our way past the Calhoun Beach Manor and soon turned the corner of my grandparents’ block in a newer development geared for senior living. The bushes in front of their townhouse were still lit up with lights, lingering remnants of the holidays that had just passed. Icicle lights cascaded from the rooftop, and the front lawn hosted lit reindeer and a family of snowmen, complete with a bulb lit up on the end of the carrot nose of one of them. It was unmistakably theirs, even if we hadn’t seen it before. We parked in front of their house.
We walked up to the house, opened the front door, and marched inside.
“We’re here!” I called, knowing full well they’d be busy getting things set up in the kitchen.
Aaron and I hung our coats on the coat tree in the hall. I hadn’t been to their house in a couple weeks, not since the Christmas holiday and the weather becoming so incredibly cold. I did feel a little guilty but vowed to make it up to them. I stopped at the glass-door cabinet that showcased Grandma’s First Lady dolls and peered closely at them. First in line, of course, was Martha Washington. Grandma had the entire set—including former First Lady, Mrs. Obama.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” I smiled at Grandma.
“I’m going after a cigar,” Aaron said, sidling off.
“August is in the back room, smoking, Aaron.” Grandma told him. To me, she said, “Luke just arrived with the salads I ordered. The guests will soon be here. Oh, dear. First time we are entertaining this bunch. How do I look?” Grandma stood back, smoothing down her skirt.
“Beautiful, Grandma. Dazzling.” I smiled. She stood at about five feet, one or two inches tall, and her green, dancing eyes always seemed to twinkle. Her hair was always perfect and in the latest style. Boy did she have energy! Even at her age, she could run circles around me, plus multi-task! She was remarkable. I hoped to be half the woman she was when I got to that age—about ninety. Today, she was like a fireball as she waited for her guests. “You’ve met most of the neighbors, haven’t you?”
“Yes! They all seem to dress so fancy, though.” She narrowed her eyes at me and said, “I can tell by that smile of yours that you have something up your sleeve. What is it?”
“I must be grinning from ear to ear.” I felt my cheeks burn. We found a trinket in the bottom of a hatbox that belonged to Mary Lincoln. I can’t say much more because of the investigation. Aaron has it secured.”
“Let’s go into the kitchen and you can tell me about it. The food needs supervision. Luke has another new helper with him.” She started heading to the kitchen but I grabbed her arm.
“Another helper?” I whispered, puzzled. “What happened to the one he had working for him?”
“No idea.” She began walking. I was right beside her. “He gave us the best deal on these salads.”
“I love his food and coffee.” I followed her. It bugged me that so many young female employees came and went from his café. Luke held knives and sliced veggies like a machine. A large platter, with a dipping bowl in the center, looked delicious. Plenty of full serving bowls and plates were set on the table.
After snatching a cold shrimp, I dipped it into cocktail sauce before eating it. “Everything looks delish.” My eyes lit up when I gazed at the uncovered bowls of dip. I couldn’t help myself, and I dipped a carrot into the vegetable dip. “Great. Spinach dip.”
“I didn’t realize these were your grandparents,” Luke said, glancing at me. “Should’ve known because you’ve been in for coffee together, or she’s come down and bought two cups.” He went back to the food preparation.
I spent a moment watching Luke’s new helper chop celery sticks. Like her predecessor, she looked Asian.
“You’re new,” I said to her. “How are you enjoying Minneapolis?”
She looked up at me for a moment but didn’t appear to understand my words. I turned to Luke. “What happened to your other assistant, your cousin? Do you have enough help?”
“She moved back home. This girl is a big help, also my cousin. No need of another.” He looked down at the dish he was preparing, dismissing further questions.
“Everyone needs family,” Grandma stated, coming in at the end of the conversation and lifting out silverware. “We’re using paper plates since I don’t want to put my chinaware in the dishwasher. It’s too old. I’m not up to standing and washing dishes anymore. Enough of that nonsense.”
“Great! About time.” I nodded approval and sat down.
“Tell me quickly about your found trinket before the guests arrive.” Grandma glanced at me. “I’m sure there’s a story behind it.”
“Remember the hat and period dress Blanche, the murdered woman, wore when she impersonated Mary Lincoln?” When she nodded, I continued, “Well, there was a rattle coming from inside her hatbox. The dress hem stitching is odd in
places also.” I watched while she counted out forks.
“Go on, I’m listening,” Grandma said. “You shouldn’t be messing with it, though.”
“The historical society recommended me to discover the source of the rattle and the hem mystery.”
“As long as the detectives know,” Grandma said.
“They do. You see,” I swallowed, “it seemed as if there was a false bottom to the hatbox. We used steam and peeled back the ends of the paper covering it, allowing us to lift out the bottom. I can’t say what was inside the ball of paper.”
“How strange,” Luke said with a puzzled frown. “Are you saying that Mary Lincoln hid something in the box lid?”
“It appears like it.” I popped a chunk of cantaloupe into my mouth. “The newspaper lining the hatbox bottom dated from when Mr. Lincoln gave the Lost Speech.”
“I wonder? Where would Mary have been comfortable hiding the speech, if she had?” Luke asked, setting some mixing bowls in the dishwasher. He then reached for the serving bowls. “Ever researched it? I don’t have much time for stuff like that. Anyway, history wasn’t one of my strong points.”
“Never heard of it before Blanche mentioned it to me.” I shook my head. “I’d like to know more about it myself. How can someone lose a manuscript of an important speech? That’s what baffles me.”
“You’ll have to keep me informed, honey.” Grandma smiled at me.
“Me too.” Luke nodded and looked at his assistant. He placed a spoon in her hand and whispered something before going back to work.
I recalled Luke dressed as a butler that day at the diary reading, wearing just a modern day suit since they didn’t have “tails” handy for his dress attire. His helper that day also seemed very quiet. I wondered if either of them spoke English. If they didn’t understand what we were saying that would account for their not talking. Aaron and Grandpa’s voices drew my attention. “You nearly ready to put the salmon steaks on the grill?” I asked as they came back into the kitchen.
“Yep. We’re heading out to the garage to move the grill outside.” Grandpa puffed on his cigar as he shrugged his arms into coat sleeves.
“Minnesota and all its natural cold. What better time to have a barbecue than wintertime to shed all the mid-winter blues?”
“You two are goofy,” I said and watched them walk out, shutting the kitchen door behind them. The blast of cold air made me shiver. I decided to make sure there was plenty of open wine on the table and enough chairs for everyone.
“Liv, here’s a short list of things for you to help me with before the guests arrive,” Grandma said. She handed it to me.
“Okay.” I read the list, crumpled it and stuffed it in my pocket.
Aaron found me straightening out the doilies over the furniture a short while later. “The grill is ready for firing. August made sure it’s parked outside away from the garage and cars.”
The doorbell rang. The guests had arrived.
We walked to the main door together and Aaron opened it, and we greeted the first of the guests, a man and woman.
“Hi. I’m Liv, and this is my husband, Aaron. Come in.” We stepped aside to allow them to enter. Aaron hung the coats on hangers he found in the hall closet. The couple had no sooner entered than three more couples arrived. Soon the guests all mingled while we attended to their needs, directing them to drinks and munchies.
Grandma had joined us, and when everyone had a filled glass, I had a chance to sit down beside one of the ladies.
“I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name. I’m Liv, Marie’s granddaughter.” I took a slight sip of wine. The sunlight twinkled against the glass, revealing the tiny bubbles in the wine. The frost on the windows added to the room’s atmosphere.
“I’m Mavis Hunter, dear.” She swirled her glass. “We neighbors need to do more things of this nature. It’s good to get out and meet people.”
“Grandpa loves to grill.”
“They all do.” I took that to mean the men. She craned her head. “I see someone with whom I haven’t spoken for awhile. Excuse me, Liv.” She got up and walked away.
I went for the wine bottle and refilled everyone’s glasses, chatting with each of the ladies along the way. It sounded like they each had a dog or a cat. They were all pulling photos from their purses or showing images from their cell phones.
While the ladies chatted, I went into the kitchen to see if Luke or Grandma needed any extra help.
“Please carry the salads out to the table, dear,” Grandma instructed.
I obeyed by carrying out four large bowls, each filled with a different salad. Then I carried out the fruit and vegetable platters, as well as the dips. Everything looked delicious. Grandma had opted for a spring-like party menu, instead of a heavier meal.
“Here we are,” Grandpa stated, carrying in a platter full of salmon. Aaron was right behind him. They set it in the middle of the table.
“Help yourself to the buffet. Sit wherever you would like.” Grandma’s eyes twinkled as she gazed around the room. “We have set out plenty of coffee tables. No room in these smaller townhouses for a proper dining room table.”
“Quite all right, Marie,” one of the gentlemen, a university professor, said as he pushed his glasses farther up his long nose. “Our homes are basically identical. You are doing a lovely job.” He ran his fingers through his curly, unruly hair.
“Thank you.” Grandma stood to the side and watched as everyone filled their plates and sat down. “Olivia, Aaron, go ahead.”
We did as told and found two seats near the television, close to the professor and his wife.
“What is it that you teach, Mister...? I’m sorry, but I’ve forgotten your name,” I asked, taking a bite of the salmon. “This is really good.” I smiled.
“Doctor Bill Williams. My wife is Mary Ann.” He nodded toward her.
“Nice meeting you,” she said. Her red hair flowed to her shoulders, held back by an aqua-blue scarf, which matched her top perfectly. Even seated, she was almost as tall as her husband.
“I’m in the science department. Mostly biology, genetics... that type of thing.” He took another bite. “This is good.”
“I wonder...” I glanced at Aaron, who rolled his eyes, “about this idea of mine. I hate to impose, but could we speak alone after the meal about a certain matter?”
“Certainly,” Dr. Williams said.
My nerves tingled with excitement. I couldn’t wait for everyone to finish eating so I could tell him about the necklace. I had a gut feeling he’d be able to discover if it was a real acorn inside the necklace or not.
After the meal ended and people began milling about, I nodded at Aaron. To Dr. Williams, I said, “Do you have time now? Aaron and I will have to leave shortly.”
“Perfect time.”
Mary Ann stayed behind while the three of us headed for Grandpa’s study where we closed the door for privacy.
“To make a long story short, we have a necklace that appears to be silvered and in the shape of an acorn. I believe it’s very old. We’d like to have it looked at, and if it’s an acorn, possibly have a genetic test run on it,” Aaron said.
“Could you do that?” I asked.
“How very strange,” Dr. Williams said, rubbing his chin. “If the silver looks old, but not too tarnished, then it’s vintage most likely. Back in the Civil War era, and even after, women did that type of thing to preserve whatever little keepsakes they had. Or they had things silvered to make their family look not so downtrodden, like they had a little bit of money. Or maybe even just to hide their jewelry. Any number of reasons, really.” He thought for a moment. “I suspect the tarnishing has been reduced because it had been wrapped and kept out of the elements.”
“We found it today hidden inside of an old hatbox.” Aaron touched my arm, warning me not to say too much.
“We do have a machine at the university that can do a scan, but why would you want to?” He glanced from one of us to the other. “It could destroy the outer layer, and would you want that to happen?”
“The method of the wrapping, plus the location of the find, only creates more questions and leaves me stymied.” I took a deep breath. “I must know the answer.”
“We’re both just really curious,” Aaron offered, raising his brow.
“Oh, sure,” Dr. Williams said. “I’ll do it.”
“It must be kept a secret, and depending on the find, the police will be involved,” Aaron said.
“It’s for an investigation, I take it?” Dr. Williams asked. “Yes,” Aaron answered.
“Here’s my card.” Bill fished his business cards from his wallet and handed one to each of us. “E-mail me. We’ll arrange a time for testing.”
“Thank you.”
When the card went into my pocket, a shiver raced up and down my spine.