“When I notified my superiors that Carol James was in the area, they told me to get her out. Said they’d just learned she’d been located. My cover was established at the Bishop’s and things were pretty quiet, so her safety became my top priority.” He grinned at her. “Best assignment of my career.” She reddened slightly and smiled back.
“If you were safe in Florida, how come you came up here,” Mary asked. She had been quiet, watching and listening carefully to all that was said. As usual, her question was pertinent, if not diplomatic.
Jaycee met Mary’s steady gaze. “When I found evidence of a second man at the fire, I figured they’d still be after me. I had already hoped to spend some time here in New England, so I just left Florida sooner than planned. I didn’t want Gran to get involved.”
“Hadn’t you spotted the shadow man in your pictures before you testified,” Starling asked, using Mary’s name for the arsonist.
Jaycee shook her head. “I got the memory chip back only after the trial was over. When I got to Gran’s, I was showing the pictures to her and that’s when I saw him. She was sitting at the computer and I was standing behind her. When seen from a distance, it’s a more obvious silhouette. I called Dietz to tell him what I found. He was my contact in Chicago.”
Edna studied Jaycee for a second or two and said, “We guessed why someone was after you when we saw that shadow in your photos and realized you had proof of a second arsonist. It explains why you’re using an alias, but why did your grandmother buy a house? Why not just rent an apartment?”
“That was Gran’s idea when I told her why I had to leave for a while. She insisted on talking to Dietz and when she found out he had a contact not far from Westerly where she’d grown up, she insisted I come here. She thought if she bought a house under her name, nobody would guess this is where I’d be staying. Besides, we didn’t know how long I’d have to hide out.” A blush reddened her cheeks. “Guess we have a lot to learn about going underground.”
Charlie frowned peevishly. “I wish Dietz had filled me in more before he went off on another assignment. It’s a good think Goran happened along and knew enough to take over.”
Mary uncrossed her arms and rested her hands behind her, as if she were about to boost herself onto the hood of the car. She asked Jaycee, “Will you sell and move away now?”
Their neighbor shook her head and flushed with pleasure. “Actually, no. My idea for an illustrated, historic cookbook is something I want to pursue. At first, Gran and I thought it up as a cover story, but after we talked about it and you all had such great ideas,” at this she looked from Mary to Edna to Starling, “I’m hooked--on the food and on all the history in this region. Also, Gran wants to come for a visit, back to her old ‘stompin’ ground,’ as she calls it. Actually, I think that’s why she bought the house in the first place.”
“So, you won’t disappear on us again,” Edna asked with a smile.
“Well, maybe once in a while,” Jaycee admitted. She grinned up at Goran and slipped her hand into his.
“She’ll be needed in Chicago,” he said, “while we’re tying up the case.” He looked at Charlie. “She’s in no more danger, since you arrested the second arsonist and Chicago’s got the head of this little organization. This time, we’ve got plenty of witnesses who’ve agreed to testify. That’s taken some of the attention off Jaycee, too.”
With a sudden thought, Edna said, “What about the Providence police? According to them, you’re one of the extortionists. They’re looking for you.”
“Not anymore,” Charlie interjected. “I phoned the department this afternoon. Talked to a detective working on the case and told her that Pittlani and I would be in to talk with them sometime tomorrow.”
“Is that your real name? Goran Pittlani?” Mary asked.
“Don’t you like it,” Goran tried to look offended, but there was a twinkle in his eye. He didn’t answer her question, though, before Starling spoke up.
“Getting back to the idea of food,” she said, nodding at Jaycee. “I’m starving. Does anyone else want to go eat?” She looked around the group.
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Charlie said. He also looked around to include everyone when he added, “Anyone up for a little surf and turf?”
“I need to find my kitten and feed Hank,” Mary said, pushing away from the car. “Thanks all the same.”
Edna glanced at her watch. “I want to be here when Albert gets home, so I’ll pass, too. You young folks go along.”
Mary strode off toward her house with Hank running ahead of her. Charlie opened the door of his car for Starling, and Goran put his arm around Jaycee’s shoulders as they headed for the Kia. Edna retrieved her suitcase from Starling’s car and, as she unlocked and opened the front door, Benjamin scampered in. Before she stepped inside, Edna waved to Mary when her neighbor turned to call to the half-grown, black kitten who was cautiously stalking her.
While Edna unpacked her bag, fed Benjamin and prepared a supper that could be heated quickly once Albert arrived, she mulled over what she could tell him about the past week. While he had been away, tending to Stan instead of enjoying a relaxing week of golf, she had spent most of her time with Peg.
Edna would, of course, tell Albert about Virginia’s death, although the complication of the brooch and how she happened to spot it or the Froissard family’s involvement were all irrelevant. No, she wouldn’t tire Albert with insignificant details. After all, he had not known Virginia well, had not known the Froissards at all, and wasn’t interested in jewelry.
She was certain he would like to know that Stephen Bishop was in the hospital recovering from knee surgery and that Peg would probably be getting a divorce, but he needn’t be concerned with the how’s or why’s.
Breaking lettuce into a small bowl, ready to be dressed before dinner, she wondered what to tell Albert about their new neighbor. That she was young and pretty, certainly, and that she was a photojournalist. He would like the fact that Jaycee had so much in common with their youngest daughter. Edna wouldn’t mention being threatened at gunpoint. It would only cause Albert undue distress and he’d had enough worries this past week. If pieces of Jaycee’s history came into conversation in the future which might prompt him to ask questions, she would explain then. She really doubted her possession of Jaycee’s camera chip would arise.
With a self-satisfied sigh, she thought the summary of her week would please and entertain Albert while they enjoyed their usual pre-dinner drink by the fire.
An hour later, she was sitting in her favorite chair beside a glowing fire, listening to her “Middlemarch” audio book and working on the sweater for her six-month-old grandson when Albert got home.
# # #
Acknowledgements
A particular “thank you” goes to my cousin for his real estate expertise and for the guided tour of Martha’s Vineyard.
As always, I am indebted to Jim Coleman, Olivia Coleman, Lori Gee, Gail Lindsey and Jan Reynolds for their expertise and feedback as first readers.
I especially wish to acknowledge my critic group members Bonnie McCune and Elizabeth Cook for their support, guidance and insights. You’re the best!
To my generous and talented friend Sandi Marsh, thank you for my web site: www.SuzanneYoungBooks.com.
Thank you, Jamie Reddig, for your wonderful artistic flair.
And to my family, friends and readers who have been so supportive and encouraging: You make my efforts fun and worthwhile. Many thanks!
About the Author
Suzanne Young was born and raised in Rhode Island. She has worked as a writer, an editor and a computer programmer since earning her degree in English from the University of Rhode Island in Kingston.
A resident of Colorado for over 40 years, she retired from software development in 2010 to write fiction full time.
She is a member of Denver Woman’s Press Club, Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers, Sisters in Crime and Mystery Writers of America, as well
as a graduate of the Arvada (CO) Citizens Police Academy.
To learn more about this author, she invites you to visit her website at www.SuzanneYoungBooks.com where you may also contact her via e-mail.
Suzanne Young, 03 Murder by Mishap
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