The Jewels of Sofia Tate (19 page)

“So it was you who left the gun there? And the
broken mirror in the kitchen? Where did these things come from?”

Garnet felt herself blush at the accusatory tone. “I found the gun upstairs. And the mirror was an accident. I guess it's seven years of bad luck for me.” She gave a slight chuckle, but stopped when it was clear they didn't share her sense of humour. She changed the subject. “I ... I didn't see your car when I came. I didn't know anyone else would be here.”

“The car's parked out back,” Gerdie replied tersely.

Garnet surveyed the mess of books on the floor. “What're you doing?”

Gerdie's eyes shifted nervously to Stan and he threw her a warning glance. “We're looking for something — for Elizabeth, of course.”

“For Elizabeth? What is it?” Garnet asked.

Stan blew out some smoke and scowled. “It's none of your concern.”

A thought struck Garnet. Of course, why hadn't she thought of it before? Gerdie had been Elizabeth's friend for years. She likely knew her secret, too. Understandably, Gerdie and Stan didn't trust Garnet, so they weren't going to tell her. Why should they? They barely knew her. And here she was, just barging in on them when they were looking for the jewels.

Garnet shrugged. “It's okay. I think I know, anyway.”

Stan's eyes narrowed. “You do?”

Garnet nodded. “Elizabeth told me before she had the heart attack.”

“She did? What did she tell you?”

“You know, about Sofia and her family and the jewels and stuff. But I don't think you'll have any luck.”

Stan cocked his head to one side. “Why not?”

“'Cause I've looked everywhere. I followed all those clues — you know, the Bible verses — but all I found was a cross.”

“You found a cross?” Stan said.

Garnet nodded.

“Really? I'd like to see it.” He crushed the stub of his cigarette into the tray of the smoking stand and looked at Garnet expectantly.

Gerdie gaped at Garnet, an odd expression on her face — one that suddenly gave Garnet a peculiar feeling that maybe she had assumed too much.

“You know, I really should be going. I told Elizabeth I was coming to see her. Maybe another time.” Garnet turned to leave.

“But I want to see it,” Stan insisted.

“There's nothing much to see. It's just a cross made of wood with a silver Jesus on it. Wait until Elizabeth gets out of the hospital. I was going to show her then.”

Stan casually walked over to the desk and picked up the pistol. “I want to see it now.”

Garnet froze. What was happening here?

He trained the gun on her. “Where is it?”

Her legs had turned to jelly, yet somehow Garnet managed to propel herself toward the mantel. She quickly glanced behind her. He was waiting. With trembling hands, she slid the panel up, then took the key from the clock. Her fingers were quivering so badly she was barely able to stick it into the keyhole. She reached into the iron box. No sooner had she pulled the crucifix out when Stan grabbed it out of her hands.

She watched as Stan held the crucifix in front of himself. For the first time, Garnet noticed his patterned tie — the grey the same shade as his eyes, the black matching the onyx in his tiepin. A feeling of déjà vu fluttered through her as she remembered a cufflink with a similar design to the tiepin, found on the floor in the hall, the day of Elizabeth's heart attack. She glanced at his cuffs. The buttonholes were fastened with those same cufflinks.

Stan's steely eyes looked up and stared into Garnet's. A shiver rippled through her as he said, “Thank you very much. Lucky you're such a Bible-thumper. You've saved me a lot of time. And time is money.”

Garnet frowned. “What?”

Stan laughed, nearly hooting as though her question were the joke of the day. Garnet clenched her clammy fists at her sides.

“This cross, you nosy little redhead, is more valuable than you will ever know.”

Garnet felt like she had been punched in the stomach.

“'Nosy little redhead'? You sent that note?”

Stan turned and sneered. “Oh, yes. I tried to get rid of you, but I see now, that was a big mistake. You turned out to be quite helpful.”

“But how did you know where I lived?”

“With a name, it's quite easy in this day and age, my dear.” He snickered and took a step toward the door.

“Hey! Stop!” Garnet ordered, momentarily forgetting he had a gun in his hands. She didn't know why he wanted that cross or what was so special about it, but there was no way he was taking it. “That's Elizabeth's!” She rushed forward and tried to yank it from his hand, but Stan jerked his arm away and kicked her swiftly in the shin.

“Ow!” Garnet bent over and clutched her leg in agony.

Stan pointed the gun at her. “Get back! Over there!” he commanded, directing her to the side, next to the bookcase, with his chin. “Do you hear me? I'll shoot if I have to.”

Until this moment, Gerdie had stood next to the fireplace, transfixed by what was happening in front of her. Now she found her voice and glared at Stan.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Have you lost your mind?”

Stan looked at Gerdie, then shifted the gun on her. “You get over there, too, or I swear, I'll shoot!”

Gerdie's eyes widened but she did as she was told. In the distance, the telephone rang but no one moved to answer it. “Why are you doing this?” Gerdie asked. “I thought we were supposed to be helping Elizabeth!”

Garnet's head started to spin. Her legs trembled and nausea rocked her stomach.

Stan threw back his head and laughed. Shaking his head he said, “You are so gullible. Let me tell you how this whole adventure began. About a year ago, before we met, I found a letter addressed to Elizabeth in an old metal box in the attic of her friend, Clara. She was selling her house to go into a nursing home. The box had a separate compartment at the bottom that Clara obviously didn't know about. My father had a similar one, that's why I looked. Guess poor Charlie, Clara's first husband, was supposed to mail this letter for his friend, Albert, but never made it back from the war, either. It took some sifting to find out who Albert and Elizabeth Tate were, but all the information was up in the attic
with old letters and pictures from the war. As luck would have it, Elizabeth Tate still lived right here in town, at the same address, so it was easy to find her. Never remarried and frail. And not in possession of this letter. So I took a gamble that she likely knew nothing about it.

“I watched her house and saw you leave here several times a week. I followed you and discovered that you lived on your own, too. Then I sat next to you in church one Sunday and you thought we met by chance. It was all part of the plan, my dear, and you never suspected a thing,” Stan smiled smugly. “All I needed was some time to look around for the cross mentioned in the letter. I copied your key and added a sleeping pill to Elizabeth's nightly cocktail of medicines. That way I could come here at my leisure. The only problem was it was taking too long. I needed money and the old lady's such a tightwad.”

“The old lady? Are you calling Elizabeth a tightwad?” Garnet demanded.

“Yes, I am. She doesn't like to part with a penny even though she has more money than she knows what to do with!” Stan spat out.

Gerdie gasped.

“Did you ever ask her for money?” Garnet asked, recalling the time Elizabeth had been upset after a telephone conversation.

“Sure did. She said I could have it and then
changed her mind. Now I've got problems like you wouldn't believe!”

“So when she wouldn't give you the money, you hit her over the head with the vase and she had the heart attack!” Garnet accused, her voice rising.

“No, she tried to hit me. With her cane. She held it up and told me to get out of the house. But before she could do anything, she dropped to the floor. Her head hit the table on the way down and the vase flew off and smashed.”

Garnet glowered at Stan. “And so you left without calling an ambulance?”

“Now why would I do that and ruin my plans? With Elizabeth out of the way, the house would have to be sold and I could have been the selling agent. Under my control, I would have had plenty of time to search the house and the ability to delay any sale at all, at least until I'd found the lost treasure. And once the house was sold, I would have earned the commission. A win-win situation. But thanks to you, none of that will be necessary.”

“But what about our engagement?” Gerdie wailed.

“Our engagement?” Stan snorted. “I only asked you because I needed you to trust me. Needless to say, the engagement's off.” He laughed sardonically.

Suddenly, a voice called out from somewhere in the house. “Hey! Garnet! Hello!” It was Dan. Doors opened
and closed and he called out again. “Hey! Where are you? I know you're here!”

Garnet's heart pounded. She looked at Stan and at the gun aimed at her.

“Answer him,” Stan hissed.

“I'm here. In the library,” Garnet called, barely recognizing her own shaky voice.

Dan's footsteps echoed down the hall. “Garnet, I found out who drives the ...” His voice trailed off and his expression changed from puzzlement to shock as he entered the library and took in the scene.

Stan pointed the gun at Dan. “Put your hands on your head and get over there with the others,” he ordered.

“But ... “

“Now!” Stan shouted.

Dan obeyed and slowly took his place next to Garnet, his eyes round as they exchanged a look with Garnet.

Stan aimed the gun at each of them in turn, from Dan to Garnet to Gerdie. “Now, I'm going to leave and I don't want anyone to follow me or call the police. Do you understand? I'm not working alone. If you mess with me, I'll send my people after you. Are we clear?”

A fresh surge of fear rose up in Garnet. She nodded silently, afraid even to breathe.

But from Gerdie's lips escaped a raucous noise, like that of an ancient war cry. She stepped forward and
snarled. “You have no other people and you know it! You're not getting away with any of this, Stanley Hunt, you low and despicable scoundrel!”

She lunged at Stan and tried to grab the gun. But he raised it high above his head. His finger touched the trigger and pulled. There was an explosion and a shower of white plaster rained down on both of them.

Dan saw his chance. He charged over and knocked Stan to the ground, straddling him. Grasping the wrist that held the gun, he squeezed tightly, slackening Stan's grip. But Stan swiped the edge of the cross in his other hand against Dan's hand, gouging it, and Dan yelped as blood began to trickle from the gash.

Garnet's fear suddenly shattered. She rushed over and grabbed the arm with the cross, holding it with all of her strength, while Dan forced the gun from Stan's grip. It fell to the ground with a thud. Gerdie swooped in and snatched it away.

Clumsily, she pointed the gun at Stan's head and scowled. “Drop the cross and put your hands behind your head.”

Dan picked himself off Stan and inched over to the side with Garnet. Stan lay there panting, clutching the cross tightly to his chest.

“I said put the cross down and put your hands behind your head,” Gerdie repeated.

“You can't be serious,” Stan taunted her from the floor.

“Oh, I am serious,” Gerdie assured him. “Do it, or see how serious I really am.” Her finger twitched on the trigger.

But before Gerdie could show exactly how serious she or anyone else might be, Ginger strutted into the room with the predatory footsteps of a lioness. The faithful feline circled Stan, who lay in the dust, stalking him, her tail lashing about and her back arching with all primitive instincts in full gear. She hissed at him, the enemy, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that she meant business. And before anyone could even blink, she pounced on his chest, her yellow-green eyes bright with anger, a paw raised over Stan's wide, steely eyes.

“No!” Stan cried, instinctively putting up an arm to shield his face.

But it was too late. He screamed in agony as she sliced open his eyelid and cheek and clawed open the skin of his defending hand. Stan dropped the cross as his other hand flew up to protect his face and he rolled over, face to the ground. Ginger gave a victory yowl and scampered away, out the door.

“Nice work, Ginger,” Dan called after her as he quickly picked up the cross. “Time to call the police!”

Garnet pushed open the door of the hospital room, then nearly turned around. But it was too late. Elizabeth had already seen her.

“Look who's here: our Super Sleuth,” Elizabeth said. She was sitting up in bed and all the medical equipment that had surrounded her a week ago had now been removed. Dan and Gerdie were seated on either side of her.

Why hadn't Garnet realized before that Dan might be here today? He had tried to speak with her yesterday, outside, after the police had gone, but she'd just hopped on her bike and ridden away.

And now here he was. Dan got up and gestured for her to take the chair.

Garnet shook her head. “It's okay, I'll stand.” She'd do her best to ignore him, then cut her visit short. She gave Elizabeth a faint smile. “Sorry the lost treasure wasn't exactly what you hoped it would be. I don't even know why the cross is worth anything, but Stan sure thought it was important.”

Gerdie flinched at the mention of his name. “Quite honestly, I don't think he knows why it's worth anything, either. He was just going by what the letter said. If I've learned anything from this, it's that for all of Stan's manipulations, he's not exactly the brightest bulb. But I suppose all that doesn't really matter now.”

She sighed. “He had me convinced that we had to find that so-called treasure for you, Elizabeth, before someone stole it from you. He warned me to be careful of Garnet, that we couldn't trust her.” Tears filled her eyes as she looked at Garnet. “It was his idea to leave you that note to scare you away.” Gerdie wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “I'm so sorry.”