Diamond Deceit

  Nancy smiled at him and said, “I thought we could fill you and Bess in at the same time. Is she here?”

  “Bess is busy,” he said curtly.

  “Come on, you’re the boss. Tell her she can take a break,” George teased.

  Ted just glowered at George. “She’s not here right now,” he told her. “She went to get stuff for a new dessert she wants to try.”

  What was with this guy? Nancy wondered. He was acting as if it were a crime even to ask about Bess. “So I guess that means she’s not going to be able to go sightseeing with us this afternoon?” Nancy asked.

  “Bess and I have a business to run,” Ted said. “She said to tell you that she’ll catch up with you when she has time.” With that he disappeared back into the kitchen.

  George turned to Nancy, angry red spots coloring her cheeks. “She’ll catch up with us when she has time?” George said, keeping her voice low. “Bess asked us to come here. She’s hardly had time to say hi since we arrived.”

  “I doubt that’s the exact message she left for us,” Nancy said, frowning. “I have a feeling Ted interpreted it more harshly.”

  “He isn’t exactly Mr. Charming, is he?” George muttered. “Suddenly I’m not hungry. Let’s get out of here.”

  Nancy nodded. “We can grab a slice of pizza or something. And then let’s go over to Cy Baxter’s.”

  • • •

  Baxter’s Fine Jewelry seemed to be deserted when Nancy and George entered the shop forty-five minutes later.

  “Where is everyone?” George murmured, stepping up to the counter.

  Nancy shrugged and started toward the doorway that led to the back. From the doorway she caught sight of the assistant, who was studying a piece of jewelry on the table in front of her. She was so intent on her work that she didn’t appear to hear Nancy and George at all.

  Nancy held a finger up to her lips for silence, then stepped a little closer. She was trying to get a better look at the piece of jewelry. Could it be Marcia Cheung’s charm bracelet?

  As Nancy shifted her weight a floorboard let out a loud creak. The woman’s head jerked up, and she gasped when she saw Nancy in the doorway. A split-second later she swept the piece of jewelry into a drawer. The jingly sound Nancy heard immediately made her think it was a charm bracelet.

  “Can I help you?” she asked nervously. She hurried over to the doorway.”

  Nancy turned as the front door opened again and Cy Baxter strode into the shop. His eyes landed on Nancy and George and flickered with recognition.

  “Rachel, why is there a customer in the workroom?” Baxter asked. Nancy wasn’t actually in the workroom, but he obviously wasn’t pleased to see her in the doorway.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Baxter,” Rachel said. “I didn’t hear her come in until just now.”

  Smiling at Nancy and George, Cy said, “So, have you decided to have me design your bracelet?” he asked.

  It took Nancy a moment to remember what he was talking about. She’d almost forgotten that she’d pretended to be a customer during her last visit. This time she decided not to play games.

  “Mr. Baxter, I’m investigating your claims about Joanna Burton’s diamond necklace for Marcia Cheung,” Nancy told him.

  Cy Baxter’s smile faded. “I don’t have to answer any of your questions,” he said. “And I’m certainly going to speak to Joanna about you. I don’t see any reason why she should cooperate with you, either.”

  Nancy was surprised to hear him mention Joanna’s name. Apparently he hadn’t heard what had happened to her yet. Then again, there hadn’t been much time for the news to get around, “Mr. Baxter, Joanna Burton died this morning,” she said softly.

  The jeweler blinked, and his hand went to his chest. “Joanna—dead?” he echoed.

  Rachel was just as surprised. Her face turned a pasty, unhealthy color. “But—how?”

  Nancy took a deep breath before answering. “She fell down her terrace steps. The police suspect she may have been pushed. When they found her she was holding a charm—a sea otter charm, like the ones you make.”

  “One of my charms?” Baxter asked weakly.

  Nancy nodded, then asked her next question. She had a feeling Baxter wasn’t going to like it. “Where have you been all morning?” she inquired.

  Baxter opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out were sputtering noises. “Why are you asking me?” he finally demanded.

  “You sell charms like the one the police found in Miss Burton’s hand,” George answered.

  “I sell charms, but I don’t wear them. And I assure you I was nowhere near Joanna Burton’s house this morning,” Baxter said defensively. “My Jaguar stalled when I was driving to work this morning. I had to have it towed all the way to the dealership in Monterey. The mechanics there are the only ones I trust. Monterey Imports—you can call them if you don’t believe me.”

  His alibi would be easy to check, Nancy thought. She doubted that he was lying. “Do you know who else might have visited her?” she asked. “Someone who wears one of your bracelets?”

  “I really couldn’t say,” Baxter replied. “Joanna Burton loved my charms. She gave them as gifts all the time.”

  “What about the charm bracelet your assistant was working on when we came in?” Nancy knew it was a long shot but hoped it would work.

  “Yes,” George said, picking up on Nancy’s reasoning. “If you don’t mind, we’d like to see if there’s a sea otter missing from it.”

  Baxter appeared completely baffled. “Charm bracelet?” He turned to Rachel and asked, “What’s this all about?”

  Rachel looked panicky, and all the fight seemed to go out of her. Stepping over to the workbench where she’d been sitting before, she sank onto the stool.

  Cy Baxter stood next to her while she opened the drawer in the work desk.

  “What’s this?” he asked, picking up a photograph of a man from the desktop.

  Nancy moved closer to see who it was and immediately recognized Michael Davis. He was an older actor who was enjoying a comeback following the release of his latest movie.

  Something was written on the back of the photo, Nancy noticed. Apparently Baxter saw it, too. He flipped the picture over and read, “ ‘Rachel—In every future there is a past.’ And it’s signed.” He laid the photo down in front of Rachel, shaking his head. “Honestly, Rachel. This is a place of business. It’s unprofessional to keep pictures of movie stars piled on your desk.”

  When Rachel saw the photograph, her face went completely white. “Oh, no!” she murmured. Then she added, “I-I’m sorry, Mr. Baxter. I promise I’ll get rid of it.”

  “Good. Now, where’s that bracelet?” Baxter asked, getting back to business.

  Rachel opened her work desk drawer and slowly took out a charm bracelet. “Len wanted me to put on the charm that you made for him—the one that’s the logo from his landscaping business.”

  George stepped forward to look at the bracelet. “So that’s what Nancy saw Len give you a little while ago?”

  Rachel nodded. “He wanted it to be a surprise. Please don’t tell Marcia.”

  Taking the charm bracelet from his assistant, Cy Baxter carefully examined it. “Here’s Marcia’s sea otter,” he said, holding out the charm for Nancy to see.

  Nancy carefully inspected the small gold loop connecting the charm to the bracelet. It was slightly tarnished, not shiny the way it would be if it were new. “Are you sure the sea otter charm was on there when Len gave the bracelet to you?” Nancy asked. “You didn’t put that one on today?”

  “Oh, no,” Rachel answered with a firm shake of her head. “The only new charm is the logo of Len’s new business, Peninsula Pine Landscaping.”

  Baxter fingered through the charms until he came to the right one. When he held it out, George grabbed Nancy’s arm. Nancy did a double-take when she looked at the charm.

  The charm was of a gold pine tree with white-tipped branches that looked like waves. It
was identical to the logo on the truck that had nearly run them off the 17-Mile Drive that morning near Joanna Burton’s house!

  Chapter

  Ten

  NANCY COULD hardly believe her eyes. There was a very good chance that she and George had seen Len speeding away from the murder scene.

  “Nancy, are you thinking what I’m thinking?” George asked softly.

  “Maybe, but let’s not jump to any conclusions.” Turning to Cy Baxter, she asked, “Do you know if Len has a pickup truck with this logo on the side?”

  Baxter nodded.

  Okay, slow down, Drew, Nancy cautioned herself. She and George hadn’t actually seen Len leave Joanna Burton’s house. But she couldn’t think of a reason for him to be driving so recklessly—unless he had been up to no good and wanted to get away fast.

  Nancy thought back to her encounter with Marcia that morning. If Marcia knew or even suspected that Len had been at Joanna’s that morning, that could explain her refusal to answer Nancy’s questions.

  Nancy knew George was dying to talk this over, but they couldn’t in front of Cy Baxter and Rachel.

  Nancy was about to say goodbye when Baxter asked, “What about Gigi?” Seeing the girls’ perplexed expressions, he added, “Joanna’s dog. Who’s going to take care of her?”

  “The police probably took charge of her. Or maybe Joanna’s agent took her home,” George said.

  “Stephanie Cooke?” Baxter’s face turned sour as he mentioned the agent’s name. “I can’t imagine that she’d go out of her way to help anyone—especially if the person is dead and can’t do anything for her. I’d better call the police and check on the dog myself.”

  Nancy was surprised at Cy Baxter’s critical tone. It had seemed to her that the agent was very concerned for her client. “Weren’t Joanna and Stephanie close?” Nancy asked.

  “Not really. Stephanie’s specialty is to take an older actor or actress whose career has fallen off and build it back up.” With a quick look at Rachel he added, “I think she represented Michael Davis in his comeback, in fact.”

  Rachel smiled stiffly and quickly placed the photo of Michael Davis in her drawer. She seemed uncomfortable talking about the actor, but then, why keep his photo on her desk?

  After thanking Cy Baxter and Rachel for their time, Nancy and George headed for the door. The clocks in the showroom chimed the hour as they passed through the showroom. Nancy started at the sound. It reminded her of the smashed cuckoo clock that had been delivered to her at the Provence Inn.

  A quick glance at the wall of clocks told her that Cy Baxter’s cuckoo clock was in the same place it had been the day before. The clock that had been sent to her hadn’t come from him—unless Baxter kept a supply of them.

  “That’s a beautiful cuckoo clock,” Nancy commented, pausing to look at it.

  Cy Baxter nodded approvingly at the clock. “Isn’t it? I have a man in Switzerland who makes them to order for me. That one is just for display,” he told her. “Would you like to order one? It takes about four weeks.”

  “Oh, no—I don’t think I could afford one,” Nancy said quickly. With a quick goodbye she and George left.

  As soon as they were outside, Nancy turned to George and said, “Well, it doesn’t look as if Baxter or Rachel sent the clock—unless he was lying about having others there.”

  “And I don’t see how we can get a look at his stockroom,” George added. “He keeps a pretty close eye on things.”

  “He and Rachel both seemed surprised about Joanna Burton’s death,” Nancy added, her brow furrowed. “My instincts tell me neither of them did it—unless they’re very good liars.”

  “But something funny was going on, don’t you think?” George asked. “Rachel was sure acting guilty of something.”

  “Maybe she’s just a nervous person,” Nancy said with a shrug. “Come on. Let’s go see if Bess got back to the café.”

  Just before they crossed the street to the restaurant Nancy glanced toward Cheung’s Original Designs.

  “That’s funny. The sign on the door says Closed,” Nancy said.

  “Why would she close her store in the middle of the day?” George asked, following Nancy’s gaze.

  Nancy frowned. “I don’t know, but I’m definitely going to ask her the next time I see her.”

  Continuing across the street, Nancy and George crossed into Ted’s restaurant. Bess was sitting at a table near the door, eating a chicken salad platter. As soon as she saw Nancy and George, she grinned and waved.

  “Did you find out anything about the necklace this morning when you talked to Joanna Burton?” Bess asked. “Okay, what I really want to know is what’s she like? And what is her house like?”

  Obviously Bess didn’t know what had happened to the actress. When Nancy told her, Bess’s expression changed to one of horror.

  “Oh, no! I had no idea. No wonder Marcia’s so upset!” Bess exclaimed.

  “You’ve seen Marcia?” George asked.

  Bess nodded. “She and Len came by to ask if we’d accept a delivery because they had to be out of the shop for a while. Come on and sit down. Are you guys hungry?”

  Nancy and George shook their heads. “Did Marcia and Len say where they were going?” Nancy asked.

  “No,” Bess replied. She looked up at Nancy with curious blue eyes. “Why? What’s going on?”

  Nancy and George quickly filled Bess in on all that had happened that morning. “And we just found out that the truck that nearly ran us off the road is Len’s truck. That could tie him to the scene of Joanna Burton’s murder,” Nancy finished.

  “Do you honestly think Len is the one who killed her?” she asked in a whisper. “Maybe Marcia found out, and that’s why she acted so weird when you tried to talk to her before.”

  “Maybe,” Nancy said. “We do have to talk to them both.” She sighed, then said, “Since they’re not around I might as well call the car dealership in Monterey and check out Cy Baxter’s alibi.”

  “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Bess said brightly. “Let’s just drive over there. There’s a lot to see in Monterey, and we haven’t had a chance to do any sightseeing yet.”

  George shot a look at the kitchen. “Do you think Ted will let you come with us?” she asked sarcastically.

  “What do you mean, let me come with you? I’m all finished for the day. Why would he care?” Bess asked. “I even got everything set up for tomorrow so I can take the whole day off.”

  Nancy asked Bess, “Did Ted mention that we stopped by this morning?”

  “No,” Bess said. “I wondered where you were.”

  George glanced briefly around the restaurant before fixing her cousin with a sober gaze. “Bess, did you notice that Ted isn’t very excited about us being here? He doesn’t seem to like it when you go anyplace with us,” she said.

  “That’s crazy!” Bess said defensively. “He couldn’t wait to meet you two.”

  “Then why does he think of something else for you to do every time we plan to do something together?” George asked.

  Bess stabbed a piece of chicken with her fork. “I have a job now, and that job has certain responsibilities. Ted is my boss, George.” Bess was starting to sound irritated.

  “George didn’t mean to put down your job, Bess,” Nancy said quickly. “We’re both really glad that you like your work. It’s just—”

  Nancy broke off as a hand clamped down on her shoulder. Turning around, she saw Stephanie Cooke standing there. The agent was dressed in a white leather jumpsuit studded with sequins. Her red hair was hanging loose down her back in long waves. She seemed to have recovered completely from the morning’s disaster.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I disturb you,” Stephanie said. Without waiting for Nancy to answer, she sat down in the only empty chair. “I heard you tell the police detective you were staying at the Provence Inn. The woman at the desk said she thought you might be here.”

  Leaning forward conspiratorially, Stephanie sai
d in a low voice, “I have a business deal I’d like to discuss with you. It could be very exciting.

  “Morgan introduced you as a detective, and I find that so fascinating,” Stephanie went on. “I made a few calls to Hollywood.”

  “Yes?” Nancy prompted, wishing Stephanie would get to the point.

  “Anyway, I know some people who are very interested in using some of your stories for films.” Stephanie folded her arms across her chest, beaming at Nancy.

  “Oh, no,” Nancy said quickly. “Something like that could only get in the way of my work.”

  Stephanie raised an eyebrow. “But, Nancy, just think of the opportunities this would open up,” she said. “You wouldn’t have to bother with being a detective any longer.”

  “Nancy likes what she does, and she’s good at it,” Bess said indignantly. George nodded her agreement.

  “Well, if you’re sure you’re not interested—”

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” Nancy said quickly.

  Stephanie didn’t show any signs of leaving. “What do you think about Joanna?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “What do you mean?” George wanted to know.

  “Do you have any ideas about what happened to her or to the diamonds?” Stephanie asked.

  Why was Stephanie asking her this? Nancy wondered. “I really don’t know,” she answered. “Perhaps you should talk to Detective Bommarito.”

  Keeping her gaze fixed on Nancy, she said, “Surely you have some theory. Haven’t you had a case like this before?” she pressed.

  “Every case is different,” Nancy said, not wanting to discuss her ideas with Stephanie.

  Just then Ted approached the table carrying a tray with three servings of a chocolate dessert on it. “I thought you might like to try Bess’s specialty for today, French silk pie.”

  Now that Bess was there, Ted was acting really nice to Nancy and George. What was his story?

  “Um, that looks great, Ted,” George said. “Thanks a lot.”

  Ted smiled at Stephanie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you sitting here before. Would you like to order something?”

  The agent glanced quickly around the table, gauging the others’ expressions. To Nancy’s relief, she said, “I think my business here is finished.” She pointed to an empty table near the jukebox. “I would like to order some lunch, though. Please send a waitress and a menu over there.”