Midsummer Night's Mischief Page 17

  “Some jewelry and cash, for sure. It’s hard to tell what else. The place was ransacked, absolutely ransacked. It’s almost like they were looking for something specific. Drawers emptied, clothes and papers and books strewn everywhere. Oh, poor Darlene.”

  Sharon sighed and shook her head. I felt for her and the whole family, especially Darlene. The loss of money and valuables was bad enough, but to have someone go through your things and toss them around . . . I could only imagine how violated she must feel.

  I decided to keep asking questions now that I was in full-on detective mode.

  “When did it happen?”

  “It must have happened this morning, while Darlene was at work. A neighbor came over to leave a box of berries on the back patio and noticed the back door standing open. He called Darlene right away.”

  “Is the door usually locked?”

  “Yes. The lock had been forced. Wouldn’t be too hard for someone to have snuck into their yard from the golf course out back. It’s too bad the neighbor didn’t come over sooner.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I pursed my lips and fell silent, contemplating this new development. Was it connected with the theft of the Folio? Then I remembered the other question that had been gnawing at me for the past week. As much as I hated to, I had to bring it up.

  “Sharon,” I began delicately. “At Eleanor’s visitation, you mentioned that you thought there should be an autopsy.”

  “Oh, there was one,” she said, to my utter surprise.

  “There was?”

  “Yes, her doctor requested it—for medical reasons, not police ones. He wanted to find out if she had had a stroke or had gone into cardiac arrest. She was on various medications, and I guess he wanted to see if there was anything he could learn that might help future patients. Eleanor would have liked that.”

  “Oh,” I said, still feeling a little stunned. “So, what did he learn?”

  “Well, the bottom line is that Eleanor had blocked arteries, so it must have been a heart attack, after all.”

  Well, that’s a relief. It was bad enough to be searching for a thief. I couldn’t even fathom trying to track down a killer. I sighed, still feeling sad that Eleanor was gone.

  “Would you like help cleaning up?” I asked. “I’d be happy to give you a hand.”

  “Oh, that’s nice of you to offer. But we have enough helpers already. Neighbors keep stopping by, and Kirk will be coming back in a bit. And Wes and Rob should be here soon. Darlene is hoping they’ll be able to help determine if anything else is missing.”

  “Okay. Well, I’ll get going, then. But would you mind asking Darlene to give me a call whenever she feels up to it?” I jotted down my cell phone number on the back of my business card and handed it to Sharon. “Please tell her I’m sorry about all she’s going through.”

  Sharon thanked me and went back inside. As I walked slowly back to my car, I kept an eye out for Wes or Rob to show up, and I thought about Darlene. I wondered if it was too much to hope that she would actually call me. Technically, it wasn’t exactly ethical for an attorney to speak to an opposing party without going through her attorney. But I wasn’t wearing my attorney hat today. For one thing, I was on leave from the law firm. Besides that, I didn’t intend to talk to her about her lawsuit. I just wanted to talk to her about the missing Folio.

  Maybe she had some ideas about who took it.

  Or maybe, I couldn’t help wondering . . . maybe someone else thought Darlene had it. Maybe that was what they were looking for when they trashed her place.

  The question was, did they find it?

  * * *

  I decided to leave my car at home and walk to the Loose for my birthday celebration. It was a twenty-five-minute walk the long way, but only fifteen minutes if I cut through Fieldstone Park. It was a nice evening, and I looked forward to seeing some friendly faces. Farrah had told me she invited our old friends from law school, as well as fellow regulars we knew from the Loose. And she’d promised me she had banned any and all talk even remotely related to work. If anybody uttered a single word about my office woes, they’d be ousted from the party as quick as Farrah could toss a wink at the bouncer. I smiled at the image.

  My spirits lifted even higher when I entered the club and saw my favorite local band setting up on the stage. Spotting a gaily festooned area sectioned off with balloons and streamers at the side of the bar, I headed over to thank Farrah for arranging both the band and the party—as well as for the fact that there were no over-the-hill decorations anywhere to be seen.

  As I passed the bar, Jimi came over and handed me a large fruity cocktail with a paper umbrella stamped BIRTHDAY GIRL. “Drinks on the house tonight,” he said, kissing my cheek.

  I lifted the glass in a toast of gratitude as he scurried back to the kitchen. Before the evening was over, I planned to corner him and get the lowdown on Wes. Glancing over at the closed office door, I wondered if I would see the elusive Rock Star tonight. Maybe Jimi had even mentioned my birthday to him. It was possible.

  When I got to the reserved tables, I didn’t see Farrah, but there were half a dozen other friends gathered around already. They all wished me happy birthday. Dawn placed a paper lei around my neck, and Katie held up her wallet.

  “First round of birthday shots?” asked Katie.

  I laughed. “No, no, please. Not just yet. The night’s too young. Unlike me.”

  “Aw, you’re still a baby,” said Katie. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

  I smiled and shook my head. “Where’s Farrah?”

  “She was on the phone,” said Dawn, pointing over to the booths along the wall.

  I left the group and walked over to find Farrah sitting alone, staring into space. She looked uncharacteristically somber, a telltale line of worry shadowing her usually sparkling eyes. She looked up as I approached and immediately assumed a big smile.

  “There’s my groovy birthday chick! I see Dawn got you lei’d already.”

  I slid into the seat across from her and offered her a sip of my fruity cocktail. She waved it away. “It’s all yours, baby. I’ve got a drink over there on the table somewhere.”

  “What’s wrong, Farrah?”

  “What are you talking about? Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s perfect.”

  I dipped my chin and gave her a “Gimme a break” look. “Farrah. It’s me. Who were you on the phone with?”

  Farrah heaved a big sigh and rolled her eyes. “It was Jake. The big lug nut.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He proposed.”

  “What!” My eyes popped, and I leaned over the table. “Are you kidding?”

  “I wish I were. Can you believe it?”

  “He proposed over the phone?”

  “No. That was last night. He’s been calling ever since I walked out. I told him I need some space, but he won’t let up. Finally, I had to tell him to lay off tonight, so he won’t keep interrupting the birthday party.”

  “Oh, honey. He proposed and you walked out?”

  “Well, more or less.”

  I sat there quietly, waiting for Farrah to elaborate.

  She tapped her fingernails on the table and looked around the room. Finally, she looked back at me. “Okay, so things were going good again, you know? We both agreed we wanted to be together. Only, his version of ‘together’ and mine are apparently two vastly different things.”

  I nodded at her sympathetically.

  “I mean, I’m not ready to settle down. I’m only thirty! You understand. You and me, we’re both happily single. We’ve got our careers, our homes, our oats.”

  “Our oats?”

  She stood up and took my hand, then pulled me up with her. “Wild oats. Those ones that need to be sown?” She grinned and marched us back over to the party section. “What the heck does that expression mean, anyway? I’ve never understood it.”

  For the next few hours, I was toasted, feted, and generally spoiled. Really, it was much
more than I felt I deserved. But I had a great time. We danced, we sang, we laughed. Some of the gang even brought presents. Farrah’s gift was the most unique: a jumbo gold-rimmed magnifying glass.

  “You’re going to need help with the fine print now, given your advanced age and all,” she said with a big wink.

  I laughed and hugged her, then looked around the bar for the umpteenth time, hoping to catch a glimpse of Wes. No luck, but I did see Jimi talking to the bouncer at the door. I made my way over there before he could disappear again.

  “Hi ya, Jimi,” I said, linking my arm in his. I wasn’t quite hammered, but I was definitely emboldened. “Where is Wes tonight? I know all about the cot in the back. No need to be all covert anymore.”

  “Sorry about that, Kel,” said Jimi, looking down at me with appropriate contrition. “The cot’s gone, anyway. Wes moved in with his parents.”

  My mouth fell open, and I was momentarily speechless. I wasn’t sure which was worse, a grown man bunking in a bar or a grown man moving back in with his parents. I quickly snapped my mouth shut and twiddled a finger in my hair. “You don’t say? When did he do that?”

  “A couple days ago. Monday, I guess it was.”

  So he was already living there when the break-in happened this morning. I narrowed my eyes and faced Jimi squarely. “Jimi, what is the deal with your buddy Wes? He’s a photographer, right? Is he, like, a starving artist or something? Why did he leave New York? Why doesn’t he have a job?”

  Jimi looked away and shifted uncomfortably. “Who says he doesn’t have a job? He works. He bartends here sometimes.”

  I gripped Jimi’s wrist and looked at him intently. “Why can’t he afford his own place to live? Did he lose all his money gambling or something?”

  Jimi looked at me in surprise, then pulled me to a quieter spot and lowered his voice. “Not Wes. Rob.”

  Now we were getting someplace. “Rob lost all his money?”

  “Rob always needs money. It’s gotten pretty bad in the past year or so. He went out to New York to see Wes, ask for a loan, I think. Wes had helped his brother before. But this time he wouldn’t give him any money. So Rob stole it instead. He took Wes’s wallet, took his debit card, and wiped out his bank account.”

  Stunned, I could only stare at Jimi.

  “That’s not all. Besides taking all the cash in Wes’s wallet and emptying his bank account, Rob racked up huge bills on Wes’s credit cards, too. Bought a bunch of merchandise, which he then sold for cash. Or that’s what Wes thinks, anyway.”

  My brain was swimming. All the birthday drinks people had kept plying me with might have something to do with this, but more than that was my shock. Happy-go-lucky Rob had really done that to his brother? Eleanor’s grandson Rob was capable of such a thing?

  “And Wes,” Jimi continued, “being who he is, refused to turn his brother in. I mean, he was pissed for sure. He had a huge argument with Rob, told him he needed help, really had it out. But he wouldn’t call the police. Instead, he packed up and came back to Edindale—partly to start saving up money to pay off his debts and eventually move back to New York, and partly to keep an eye on Rob and convince him to get help.”

  So that was the big rift between Wes and Rob. Before I could think of any more questions, Jimi squeezed my arm and scooted off toward the kitchen. I noticed then that the band was packing up and the crowd was thinning. I was eager to find Farrah and share the new info I had on the Callahans. But she was occupied with Katie, apparently trying to cut her off and hold her up at the same time. Yikes.

  I went to the washroom, still reeling from the news about Wes and Rob. When I came out, friends told me good-bye. Then Farrah came up and gave me a big hug.

  “I hope you had a marvelous birthday, Keli-Beli. I called a cab for Katie. I’m going to ride with her and then go on home. You want to go with us?”

  “Oh, no. I’m fine. It’s such a short walk for me, and I could use the fresh air.”

  “Okay, girlfriend. Call me tomorrow!”

  “I will! And thank you again for all this! I did have a marvelous birthday.”

  I gathered up my gifts, waved at Gary the bartender, and headed out into the night. It was nearly 1:00 a.m. and the streets were quiet as a ghost town. Frankly, I was surprised so many folks had stuck around so late, closing out the bar on a Wednesday night. Now there wasn’t a soul in sight.

  Everyone must be tucked safe and sound in their cozy little homes, I thought sleepily. Which is where I ought to be. For once I was grateful I didn’t have to get up early for work in the morning. Yawning, I crossed the street to Fieldstone Park.

  The paved walkways were well lit, so I didn’t think twice about cutting through the park at this hour. I had done it before after late nights at the Loose. Granted, I was normally with a companion. As the seconds passed and my footsteps echoed in the silence, the shadows seemed to deepen around me. And I soon began to second-guess my cavalier attitude. Especially when my ears detected a second set of footsteps on the pavement behind me.

  I picked up the pace, and the steps behind me did likewise. Shit. You’ve got to be kidding me. I couldn’t tell how close the person was, but I guessed they were probably some distance back. But getting closer. And here I was, smack-dab in the middle of the park. Up ahead, I saw that the winding path was leading me under a thick canopy of trees.

  This was not good.

  My pulse quickened with my steps, and the bags I held shook from the bounce in my gait. Shifting my eyes to the left, I noticed the tennis courts next to an open grassy area. I could cut through there, I decided, and meet up with the sidewalk on the other side.

  Still walking quickly and keeping an eye on the ground in front of me, I looked behind me. Sure enough, there was someone on the sidewalk about forty feet back. He was tall, well built, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. And wearing a baseball cap.

  Just like whoever had prowled around my front door that morning.

  I sucked in my breath and walked faster, nearly breaking into a trot. I spared another glance over my shoulder and saw that the man had left the sidewalk, too. He was following me. And gaining on me.

  Okay, sandals or not, I was done pussyfooting around here. I broke into a sprint and propelled myself forward with all my might. I was nearly to the path again, with lungs burning and an awful stitch piercing my side, when my pursuer called out to me.

  “Keli! Wait up!”

  Panting, I slowed to a stumbling jog and tried to place the voice. On the plus side, it hadn’t sounded threatening. Even if it had, I was pretty much spent. Running at full tilt with a stomach full of alcohol was not working out so well. At this point, my best defense might be to hurl on the guy.

  The sound of a passing car told me I had reached the edge of the park, so I slowed to a stop under a streetlamp. Fighting to calm my nerves, I turned around slowly and sized up the approaching figure.

  “Jeez, Keli,” he said, taking off his cap and wiping his forehead. “You’re hard to catch. I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”

  I squinted at him, then widened my eyes in recognition. “Jake?”

  “I tried to get your attention, like, two miles back, but you were in your own world. And then you kept speeding up.”

  “Well, yeah! I didn’t know who was following me. What do you expect, chasing a girl in a dark park?”

  “I’m really sorry,” he repeated, looking down. “I wanted to talk to you about Farrah.”

  “Walk with me,” I said, heading out to the boulevard. “I need to keep moving to keep my stomach under control. I had a few too many tonight.”

  “Oh, right. Happy birthday.” Jake walked alongside me, looking glum.

  “Aw, it’s over now, anyway. So . . . how are you, Jake?”

  “Confused. I thought Farrah loved me. I thought we were in agreement about making a future together. I can’t figure out what she wants.”

  We crossed the street together and neared my town house. I looked up at Jake
and sighed. “You know, if there’s one thing about Farrah, it’s that she’s honest. If she told you she needs space, then that’s what she needs.”

  “Space for what? We were apart for three weeks. Then when we got back together.... She said she never wanted to be apart from me again. I don’t get her.”

  “Jake, trust me. Farrah does love you. She’s just a very independent person. I don’t think you two had actually talked about marriage, did you? I think you caught her off guard. She needs time to think about things.”

  And I need to get to bed, I thought, pulling out my keys.

  “I guess you’re right,” said Jake. “I’ll give her some space, let her come to me when she’s ready.”

  “Good. Now, go home and stop worrying.” After sending Jake on his way, I went inside, locked the door behind me, and breathed a huge sigh of relief. What a night. The truth was, Jake was a really nice guy and would probably make a fabulous husband. I mean, I sort of understood Farrah’s hesitance. Then again, I also sort of envied her opportunity.

  The closest thing I had to a boyfriend right now was . . . not even close at all. I hadn’t heard from Wes since our so-called date three days ago, and he had never showed up tonight.

  Ugh. I kicked off my shoes and prepared to go flop into bed and sleep away all such boy troubles.

  Until a rock came crashing through my front window, shattering all hope of a peaceful night’s rest.

  CHAPTER 19

  It was always hard to get out of bed on an overcast morning. But after the night I had had, I expected to sleep in, anyway. When I woke up and pushed off the covers, I figured it must be at least 11:00 a.m. I squinted at my clock radio. It was nearly 1:00 p.m. Oops.

  I padded to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and turned on the shower. The fear and distress of the night before were starting to come back, and I wanted nothing more than to wash it all away. I groaned as I remembered the chaos that had followed the rock hurtling through my window. The noise from the breaking glass was so jarring, it had woken up my neighbors. Then everyone had seemed to arrive at once: Mr. and Mrs. St. John in their matching robes and Larabeth and Bryan, the couple who lived on the other side of my house, in their pajamas.