Read Gina Cresse - Devonie Lace 05 - A Deadly Change of Luck Online

Authors: Gina Cresse

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Treasure Hunter - California

Gina Cresse - Devonie Lace 05 - A Deadly Change of Luck (5 page)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

O
fficer Graves was somewhat reluctant to include the missing fifty-eight million doll
ar lottery ticket in his report
—especially since I couldn’t produce any proof that it ever existed.  Finally, after explaining to him how we’d found the ticket, and the multiple break-ins at the other house with nothing ever taken, he agreed that it sounded plausible, and noted it in his report.

“I signed the back of the ticket, so won’t it be impossible for someone else to cash it in?” I asked.

Officer Graves stared at me blankly.  “You should call the lottery people about that.  I’ve never won a dime on the thing, so I couldn’t tell you.  But I’m sure there’s someone out there who can alter your signature enough to make it pass for something e
lse, or even make it disappear—
especially for that kind of money.”

He noticed the gloom in my face.  “We can try to get some prints off the
desk,
and that bookend where you hide the key.” 

“Don’t forget the encyclopedia,” Craig said.

Officer Graves nodded his acknowledgment.  “If someone shows up and tries to claim the ticket, and if we can somehow convince a judge that we need fingerprints from that person, maybe you’ll have a case.”

My spirits lifted a little.  Craig and I both gave samples of our own fingerprints so they could be ruled out of any prints they did find.

“Do you think we have a chance of getting the ticket back?” I asked Officer Graves.

He solemnly shook his head.  “You’ve got a better chance of being struck by lightning than getting that ticket back.”

My shoulders sank as I walked the officers to the door. 

“Whoever has that ticket now is the owner.  In a case like this, I’d venture to say that possession is nine-tenths of the law,” Graves continued. 

As I closed the door, Craig came up from behind and wrapped his arms around me.  “Easy come, easy go,” he whispered in my ear.

I smiled.  “I’m okay.  Less than six hours ago, I was perfectly happy. 
How about you?”

“Elated, as a matter of fact,” he said.

“And now, nothing is any different than it was then. 
Right?”

“Right.
 
Except for that broken window.”

“Oh, yeah.
  Well, except for that.  So we shouldn’t feel bad that we were this close to that much money, and someone snatched it away. 
Right?”

“Right,” he agreed, again.  “Besides, it probably would have ruined our lives.  I’ve heard that happens to a lot of people who win the lottery.  They’re miserable after a while.”

“And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“Never.”

“Good.  Then I’m glad it happened.  I love our life just the way it is,” I said.

“Besides, it’s not like we

re destitute.  I mean, we can still go to Wyoming, and next year we can head for Kentucky
.“

“And after I make a fortune from the sale of Rancho Costa Little, I can buy you a banjo.”

“That’s right.  And I can teach you to play the guitar, and we can start a little duo and play at birthdays and weddings, and we can sing—“

“Now I think you’re really dreaming,” I said, trying hard to laugh just to keep from crying.  “Come on.  I’m tired.  Let’s go to bed.”

Who were we kidding?  We’d just lost fifty-eight million dollars.  There was no way I’d be able to sleep.

 

At six in the morning, I rolled over to see if Craig was awake yet.  He wasn’t, but I couldn’t wait any longer for the alarm to go off.  “How did they know exactly where the ticket was? 
And the key?
  And don’t forget the copy in the encyclopedia.  They must have watched me through the window or something.”

“Hmm?” he mumbled, slowly blinking his eyes open.

“Last night.  Whoever came in here knew exactly where to go to get the ticket.  I bet the guy who we scared off yesterday waited outside and watched through the window.  He probably saw us find the ticket,
then
followed us home.”

Craig rubbed his eyes and yawned. 
“Could be.”

“Then he watched me put the ticket in the desk and hide the key and the photocopy.  Little pervert.  I’m
gonna
start keeping the curtains closed at night.”

“So you think he went back to the other house last night and caused a commotion just to get us out of the house?” Craig asked, stretching his arms over his head to wake up the muscles.

“Yes.  But the question is
,
how did he know about the ticket in the first place?”

Craig pushed the covers off and rolled over to sit on the edge of the bed.  He scratched his head and rubbed the stubble on his chin.  “Good question, but it doesn’t matter now. 
Right?”

“Right.
  But I’m still curious.”

“Did you lay awake all night thinking about it?” he asked.

“Not all night.  At some point, I fell asleep and dreamed we lived on our very own island.  You built a hospital and played the banjo for all your patients.  I was your nurse and wore a straw hat with the price tag still hanging over the side.  I think I was missing a front tooth.”

Craig laughed.  “But I loved you anyway. 
Right?”

“I don’t know.  You only spoke German and I couldn’t understand a word you said.”

“Take my word for it.  I loved you anyway.  I’ve got to go to work.  You’re going to meet the locksmith at the house?”

“Right after the dining room window is fixed,” I said.

“And you won’t worry anymore about the ticket?”

“I’m not worried about the ticket.  It’s just tha
t
—“

“Good.”  He kissed me on the forehead and shuffled into the bathroom.

I stared at the ceiling.  “Right, Devonie.  Let it go,” I said to myself.  “Just let it go.”

 

The locksmith finished changing the locks and handed me the new keys.  I called Fiona to ask if she’d given me the key that Lou Winnomore kept hidden over his door.  She never knew anything about the key.  I was glad I had the locks changed.

I rolled up my sleeves and began sorting through the mess in the kitchen.  I set a large garbage barrel in the center of the floor and started tossing anything that had no value i
nto it.  An assortment of
vitamin bottles were scattered all over the countertop.  I gathered them and set them upright.  I started tossing them one-by-one into the can, but I stopped when I picked up a bottle that felt full.  It was still sealed.  I ins
pected the label.  It was an unopened bottle of calcium—the same kind that I took
.

“Hmm.”
  I set the bottle aside.  The safety seal was still in tact, and it was far from its expiration date.  I thought I’d take it home.  No sense wasting it, considering the price.

I resumed tossing the other bottles.  I picked up another bottle and shook it, as I had the others.  It was empty.  I noticed it was the same calcium as the one I’d set aside.  I started to toss it into the can when I noticed the price sticker on the lid.  I stopped and compared it to the other bottle.  They were completely different.  I sorted through the rest of the bottles on the counter.  None had the same price as the
new bottle.  I picked through the garbage can and removed the bottles I’d thrown out until I found the one with a price sticker that matched the new bottle of calcium.  It was on a bottle of vitamin E.  The two bottles were the same size and somehow the lids had gotten switched.  I pondered the mixed up lids for a moment, then tossed them both in the can.

It didn’t take long until the plastic bag in the trashcan was full.  I tied it off and hauled the bag out to the garage.  Three trash bags later, and I could finally see the kitchen floor.

I moved into the living room, dragging my garbage can behind me.  Everything had been ripped from the walls except for a lone painting, still hanging perfectly level over the spot where the sofa used to sit, before it was overturned and ripped apart.  The painting was a monotone landscape, done in all shades of purple.  Dark mountains faded into pale lavender, as they grew further away and blended in with the
misty sky.  A dark purple tree—
almo
st black
—stood in the foreground, drawing attention to its nearly leafless branches.  I carefully removed it from the wall and leaned it against a floor lamp that was slated for the yard sale.  

I’d just started working my way toward the first bedroom when I heard a loud knock on the front door.  I opened it to find Fiona standing there, wearing a leopard-skin patterned jumpsuit, a big floppy sunhat, and rhinestone-studded sunglasses that came to sharp points at each side.  Her wig still listed to one side under the big hat.  She held a brown paper sack in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other.  “Hi, toots!  I’ve come with lunch and booze!” she announced.

I laughed and stepped aside to let her in
, then
glanced at my watch.  It was nearly noon.  I’d lost track of time.  “Come on in.  Lunch sounds great, but I don’t usually hit the booze until the sun goes down,” I joked, leading her to the kitchen.

“The sparkly is for you and the hubby.  Something I do for all my buyers,” she explained, setting the bottle on the counter.  “Hey, toots.  This is looking terrific,” she said, gazing around the freshly cleaned kitchen.  Her eyes stopped on the painting I’d just taken down.  “Oh, I love that.  The color is perfect for my living room.  And that lamp is gorgeous,” she went on.

“Your living room has some purple?” I asked.

“The carpet,” she acknowledged. 
“And the walls.
  My sofa is lavender, to match the ceiling.”

I tried to picture a room that was entirely purple.  Somehow, it seemed to fit Fiona.  I smiled as I collected the lamp and the painting.  “They’re yours,” I said, standing them both near the door where she wouldn’t forget them.

“What a sweetheart.  Sure I can’t pay you for them?”

“No.  I was just going to put them in a yard sale.  You’re doing me a favor by taking them off my hands,” I insisted.

“Well, this is turning out to me my lucky day.  I was just
gonna
stop by to see how you’re doing with the place, and I figured you’re one of those gals who
forgets
to eat. 
Now me?
  I could never forget someth
ing so dear to my heart
—and stomach. 
But skinny little you?
  Anyhow, I f
igure you for a turkey on whole
wheat girl.  Am I right?”

I nodded.  “Perfect.  Let’s sit out back on the patio.  I’ll wipe off the old table and chairs out there,” I offered.

“Great,” she said, following me out the back door.  “And I also figured you for a cherry-lemonade girl.  Sound okay?” she continued, pulling bottles and sandwiches out of her bag.

“Just right.
  How’d you guess?”

“I’m a people person.  I’ve worked with people for forty years.  I’ve learned how to read them.  I noticed the other day when I took you to
breakfast,
you made a funny little face whenever a waitress walked by with a greasy old plate of sausage or bacon.”

“Really?
  I make a face?” I said.

“Oh, don’t worry.  It’s very subtle.  Probably nobody else would ever even notice.  But, like I say, I’m a people person.  Sort of like a sixth sense with me.”   

I took a bite of my sandwich and washed it down with a swig of lemonade.  “You’ll never in a million years guess what Craig and I found here last night.”

Fiona studied my face and grinned.  “Oh, I love a mystery.  What’d you find?”

I leaned over the table closer to Fiona so I could speak softly. 
“A lottery ticket worth fifty-eight million dollars.”

Fiona nearly choked on her sandwich.  She coughed and hacked as I jumped to my feet to slap her on the back.  “Are you okay?” I asked, patting her firmly between her shoulder blades.

She took small sips of her soda until she was finally able to speak.  “You have got to be kidding me,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“No. 
Really.
  Someone taped it to the top of a ceiling fan.  We took it home and checked the numbers.  It’s a winner,” I assured her.

“Well, what the heck are you doing here with a broom and rubber gloves?  I’d be out sp
ending some of that dough
.”

I frowned.  “We had a slight problem.”

Fiona’s smile faded. 
“Problem?
 
God, no.
  Tell me you didn’t accidentally flush it down the toilet.  Or your dog ate it?”

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