Chapter Sixteen --

  “Your birth what?” That was Willow. “You were adopted?”

  “My mom died right after I was born, and my aunt took me in. She told me all about what happened when I was eight and asked me what I wanted to do. I told her I wanted to belong to her, so we went to the court and the judge declared me adopted. Why are you all looking at me that way? It’s legal.”

  “Does your stepfather know about it?” Kenny wondered.

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Jen, do you have a safety deposit box at a bank, by any chance?” he asked.

  “Sure, my mother insisted I get one a couple of years ago, when she first got sick. There’s no money in there, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s mostly papers and my certificate of adoption. I have the key upstairs.”

  “But not your birth certificate. The sheriff found that in the box we collected from the garage,” Kenny told her.

  “That’s not the original,” was Jenny’s reply. “It’s a duplicate. For some reason, Steve sent for it. He said he had to have it after Mom died.”

  “But did he know Vivian adopted you?” I leaned forward, curious.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think the subject ever really came up, Miz Scarlet. Mom and I didn’t need to talk about it.”

  “Holy cow, kiddo! Do you have any idea how worried we were that your stepfather had a legal claim to Vivian’s estate because you were Christina’s daughter?”

  “Really, Miz Scarlet?” asked the confused teenager. “You mean you thought my adopted mom kept it a secret from me? No, she wasn’t like that. She was very honest about it.”

  “No wonder the girl wasn’t upset when her grandparents arrived,” Lacey shook her head in amazement. “She knew about Christina.”

  “Boy, you people really are something else,” Larry quipped, giving us all a big grin. “That’s some detective work you did. Maybe you should stick to finding lost cats.”

  “Lost cats? You mean like him? He walked in one day and never left.” Scrub Oak, perched on the arm of a wicker settee in the corner by the dog crate, looked up briefly at Bur before resuming his paw bath, one eye on the napping spaniel. “We plastered posters all over the neighborhood, but nobody wanted the old flea bag.”

  “He has his own charm,” Laurel said in the feline’s defense. “He grows on you.”

  I turned the conversation back to Larry’s contention that we were not high caliber detective material.

  “We did okay on that New Jersey case,” I insisted, standing my ground. “How long would it have taken Sarge and his buddies to crack that puzzle of the Hinson house?”

  Larry snorted derisively in my direction, gold bangles clinking on her wrist as she tried to erase the importance of the discoveries we made on her invisible air blackboard.

  “Oh, pull-ease! You think the judge is going to look at your handiwork and say, ‘Whoopee! The case is solved, courtesy of Miz Scarlet...’? Nope. Naw. Un-un. No way, no how, and hell, no! You didn’t crack the case. It’s more like you hammered a teeny tiny little nail hole into the wall and got the ball rolling. In real police work, the investigators have to meet certain requirements. There has to be physical evidence, not just supposition. Right now, it’s still just a theory that is not even prosecutable. Richie was left as shark bait, floating on the ocean and no one has yet been fingered for that. And we still don’t know who actually masterminded the whole scheme.”

  “Oh,” Kenny laughed, “I guess you haven’t heard. Sarge called me a while ago. The New Jersey State Police raided Aura Cleanse, based on information Bobby told them as part of his plea deal. Are you ready for the identity of the person behind the whole shebang?”

  All eyes were on Kenny, who knew it and enjoyed the long pause. He put his hands on the table and began drumming softly, then gave it a little more oomph, and then abruptly stopped.

  “Well?” I demanded.

  “Come on!” Bur insisted. “Don’t hold back!”

  “You haven’t figured this out yet?” Kenny was having fun at our expense. That had to mean the actual answer must be somehow obvious. Paolo, Lyric, and Opal were in on it, and they financed their dream jobs by defrauding the suckers who bought into their con game, but none of them was the mastermind. Nor the killer of Richie.

  “Oh, wait. This wasn’t about jewels. The gems were used to finance the construction, and the goal was to sell the hurricane-damaged properties at a profit to fund their financial empires. That must mean that the mastermind is Opal’s husband....”

  “Lars Weims!” The Poup shouted out, trying to beat me to the punch. “So much for not solving the case, Larry!”

  “Oh, you got lucky! You still can’t call that solving the case. Hell, you didn’t even muss up your pretty boy hair, Slick.”

  “’Slick’? Did you just call me ‘Slick’?” My brother feigned dismay.

  “Oh, brother!” Larry groaned. “Are you really shocked by this?”

  Jenny, holding Mozzie in her lap while she gave him his medicine, giggled. The homicide investigator watched her for a moment, her look softening. “Poor Jenny went from having no family at all to having too much family. Look at you, surrounded by all these people who love you.”

  “I know. Isn’t it just amazing? I still can’t believe my luck!”

  “Luck has little to do with it, Jen. We’re just delighted that we’ve had the chance to know you,” Laurel told the girl. “You’re a wonderful addition to this extended family.”

  “Besides, how can you ever have too much family?” Lacey wanted to know. “We may be feisty and opinionated, but by Jove, we’re fun people!”

  “That’s one way to look at the Googins dynasty,” Willow laughed. “Others might suggest we’re all a bit bonkers.”

  The conversation quickly spiraled into silliness, as we recalled some of the family’s most inventive exploits and hysterical mishaps, including the time Bur was chased by an angry beaver after he disassembled the critter’s dam.

  “Getting back to the subject of California,” Tony broke in at last, “we’ve asked Jenny to visit us, so she has a chance to meet the rest of her father’s family and see where we live. We’re hoping that when she’s ready to go to college full-time, she’ll consider something near us.”

  “Grandpa’s an almond farmer,” she told Larry. “He has a hundred acres of land and thousands of trees.”

  “It’s a nutty job, but someone has to do it,” he joked. We all groaned.

  “And he keeps honeybees, to pollinate the trees. Grandma tends to the hives and bottles the honey. She’s also a potter and has her own studio. She’s going to teach me to throw pots.”

  “An artist? How lovely,” said Laurel. This was news to all of us. There were so many more pressing issues when Tony and Maria first arrived. Now we were getting to learn the ordinary details of their lives.

  “And guess what. They want me to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with them.”

  “Wonderful idea,” several voices said at the same time.

  “You’ll let me take some time off from work?” Jenny looked at me expectantly, and that’s when I realized how much it meant to her to call the Four Acorns Inn home. The little bird wasn’t quite ready to leave the temporary nest.

  “Well, I think we can arrange something,” I promised. I looked up in time to see Tony watching me, so I winked. He relaxed his shoulders, leaving me to wonder if he was nervous about having a granddaughter who was a stranger. Did he worry about her rejecting the effort? I raised my glass in salute. “To the Jenny Project!”

  “And happy endings,” Kenny added.

  “Here, here!” we all cheered. The teenager beamed her beautiful Martinez smile at us.

  “Damn!” Larry grabbed her beeper from her waistband and looked down at the message. “Wouldn’t you know some idiot has to go and spoil a perfectly lovely day by whacking some poor schlub? I’ve got to go. Bur, do you mind driving me home, so I can pick up my car?”
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  “Not at all.”

  “What a pity you have to leave,” said Laurel. “At least finish your pie, dear. That stiff isn’t going anywhere any time soon.”

  “Story of my life,” she said, taking another bite and savoring the flavors. “Every time I get invited somewhere fun, I get called away. I’m getting too old for this nonsense.”

  “You know, you ever want a job as a private investigator, you call me,” Kenny said as he poured himself some more wine. “The hours are better, the benefits are decent, and the pay is pretty good, too.”

  “Tempting offer, Captain Peacock. No more calls in the middle of the night. No more traipsing up the mountain after wayward teenage girls.” She pretended to glare at Jenny, who burst into a giggle. “I would, but I have to stay in Connecticut until my kid’s off to college.”

  “I understand what you’re saying. Your daughter’s wellbeing is a priority. What do you think about working out of Hartford?”

  “She already does,” Bur pointed out.

  “I’m talking about a job with Mercer Security, Poup.”

  “For Larry?”

  “Certainly not for you, buddy.”

  “You’re opening an office in Hartford?” My brother’s mouth was open wide enough to catch some pretty large flies.

  “Sometime in November,” Captain Peacock responded, a sly little smirk on his face.

  “Kenny’s moving back here?” Laurel wanted to know. I turned to him and he nodded.

  “He just told me a little while ago,” I admitted somewhat sheepishly.

  “Oh, boy! That’s great news,” Jenny declared.

  “Does that mean there’s going to be a....” Laurel looked a little pale, a hand to her chest. What was she trying to say?

  “Do I hear wedding bells?” Lacey interrupted, putting a hand up to her ear.

  “I’ve got dibs on matron of honor,” Larry announced. “And just remember that with my looks, I can carry off a really hot color. Fuchsia or tangerine. ”

  “What about me?” the teenager shot back. “I should be in the wedding party. I’m like a daughter to Miz Scarlet.”

  “Naw, you’re too pale. You need something dainty. Pink polka dots maybe, or lavender butterflies. You can be flower girl.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me.”

  “Ha! I’m eighteen! I’m too old for that.”

  “What, you think you should be maid of honor? Over my dead body!” Larry tossed her dark curls back with a big flourish and sniffed haughtily, diva-like. “Besides, you’re too skinny to carry off a halter dress. It would just hang on your bony body. A woman like me, with curves, now that’s a different story!”

  “You two done discussing Barbie’s dream wedding?” I asked, leaning back in my chair as I watched the pair of them bickering. “Because I didn’t hear anyone directly involved utter the word ‘marriage’ or ‘wedding’. You know something I don’t know?

  “Well, Miz Scarlet, that depends,” replied the homicide expert.

  “On what?”

  “On whether Captain Peacock popped the question yet.”

  “Did he?” That was my mother.

  “Hold on, ma’am. I’m trying to interrogate your girl here. She knows something she’s not telling.”

  “I do?”

  “Save that phrase for when you march down the aisle,” Bur advised me.

  “You might want to get out your rubber hose and knock her around a bit, just to get her to cooperate,” Laurel suggested to the state trooper, her delivery deadpan.

  “You’re right. She’s not going down easy.” Larry was studying me closely, inching closer to my face, even as I shooed her away.

  “Don’t you have a body to check out?” I retorted, feeling myself in the hot seat. Tony and Maria were laughing.

  “The dead guy’s not walking away from the crime scene any time soon. Now, ‘fess up. Are you two getting hitched or not?”

  “Hitched?” Playing dumb, I went boneless in my chair, slumping down, hoping they would all just shut up. “Don’t be silly!”

  “Hitched, married, joined together in holy matrimony, tying the knot, jumping the broom....”

  “You’re all jumping the gun,” I fired back, trying to deflect their interest.

  “Are we?” My brother was smirking, enjoying every twitch I made.

  “For the record, not that all you Nosy Parkers are entitled to an answer, Kenny and I have not discussed the subject of marriage yet. As a matter of fact, we are not even close to that point in our relationship.”

  “Well, I don’t know that I’d go so far as to say that, Miz Scarlet. It’s certainly not on the table at the moment, but we also can’t rule it out as a future option,” said the man at my side, laughing.

  “We can’t?” My heart went pitter-pat.

  “After all, if I’m going to be in Connecticut full-time, we’ll certainly have a chance to determine whether our relationship is hot, hot, hot!”

  “Does that mean our relationship is hot at the moment?”

  “More like hot, hot,” he corrected me. “And I’m looking forward to kicking it up a notch.”

  “You heard him, folks. Captain Peacock is going to take my sister off my hands. Amen!”

  “Oh, be quiet!” I wagged a warning finger at him across the table. “That’s not what Kenny just said!”

  “Finally a bride, instead of the eternal bridesmaid. Who would have ever believed little old Scarlet Wilson, the spinster, would ever be walking down the aisle?” Why don’t you just jinx it, you bum!

  “This from a man who’s been married how many times now? Is it two or three? I keep forgetting!”

  “I’d better get going while the going is good,” said Larry, standing up, “before there’s a double homicide at the Four Acorns Inn.”

  “If they haven’t killed each other yet, we’re probably safe,” my mother replied drolly. “These two have a long history of sibling rivalry.”

  “You never know when things might turn deadly,” said Kenny. “Miz Scarlet still doesn’t know about the time Colonel Grey Poupon borrowed her tennis racquet just before the tournament and....”

  “Nice going, Captain Peacock!” Bur was easing himself out of his chair, backing away from the table.

  “That was you? You’re the rat who broke my racquet?” I stood up, incensed. “I can’t believe you sabotaged my tennis tournament! What a....”

  “Talk about looks that can kill,” said Willow. “You’re a marked man, Bur.”

  “Come on, Larry. Our cue to run. Bye, everybody!”

  “Colonel Grey Poupon, you beast!” I was on my feet as he made his escape out the porch door.

  “Cover me, copper!” he hollered as he hurried Larry down the garden path towards the car in the driveway. “My sister’s armed and dangerous!”

  “Don’t you go expecting me to save your butt, Bur Wilson. Did you really steal your sister’s tennis racquet before the big tournament and break it?”

  “Can’t you run any faster, Larry?”

  “In these heels? Get real. And I’m still waiting for an answer about that tennis racquet, mister!”

  Author Info:

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  Mysteries by Sara M. Barton:

  The Scarlet Wilson Mystery Series, featuring feisty, funny innkeeper turned amateur sleuth, “Miz Scarlet” and a recurring cast of characters:

  Miz Scarlet and the Imposing Imposter #1

  Miz Scarlet and the Vanishing Visitor #2

  Miz Scarlet and the Holiday Housegu
ests #3

  Miz Scarlet and the Bewildered Bridegroom #4

  Miz Scarlet and the Perplexed Passenger #5

  The Gabby Grimm Fairy Tale Mystery Series, featuring the gutsy, goodhearted deputy from the quaint village of Latimer Falls, Vermont, who tackles terrorism and organized crime with her seven male colleagues and Army special forces soldier Sam Hogan:

  Snow White and the Hunter #1

  Where’s Hansel and Gretel’s Gingerbread House? #2

  Little Red Riding Hood and the Secret Cookie Recipe #3

  Deputy Gabby Grimm to the Rescue (Boxed Set) #4

  The Off-the-Books Mystery Series, featuring FBI Agent Henry Hartman, his wife, Sydney Stansfield Hartman, and the hilarious Hartman ladies as they investigate convoluted crimes featuring organized crime and spies:

  Henry Hartman’s Holiday Crisis #1

  Henry Hartman's Boondoggle Crisis #2

  Henry Hartman’s Fall Guy Crisis #3

  Henry Hartman’s Crisis Management (Boxed Set) #4

  Coming in the Fall of 2016 --The Cornwall and Company Mystery Series:

  Someone hates Marigold Flowers, but who...and why? When contract killers chase after the wedding planner living in Lake Placid, New York, she finds herself under suspicion until the Cornwall family comes to her defense. It’s a tangled web of international intrigue that threatens a heroine on the run:

  Who Hates Marigold Flowers? #1

  In the Shadows of a Lie #2

  Bury Me in Paradise #3

  When Rage Meets Fury #4

 
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