The Lady Rambles, Reed Ferguson Private Investigator Mysteries: Book 18

Sample Chapter

CHAPTER ONE

“Reed, dear, it’s your mother.”

I put a hand to my forehead. Like I didn’t know her voice. I love my mother, but she can be a mystery …

“Hi, Mom,” I said cheerfully.

“Do you have a few minutes?”

“Sure.”

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon in early March, and I was in my office, reading an old copy of The Little Sister, by Raymond Chandler. But the apprehensive tone in my mother’s voice suddenly had me worried.

I sat up. “What’s wrong?”

“Why do you assume something’s wrong?” The tone said Mother was miffed now. If being miffed were an Olympic sport, she’d have several gold medals.

But this time, I could tell she was covering her nervousness. “Just because you’re a detective, doesn’t mean you know everything. You know your father and I fully support your profession, even though I worry something awful could happen to you.”

“Fear number one,” I muttered.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

My mother – who once also worried that I might be doing drugs – now fears only two things: that I won’t give her grandchildren, and that I’ll die a horrible death because of my profession.

“I never said something was wrong,” she went on.

I sighed. “Okay, nothing’s wrong. How are you and Dad?”

She broke down. “Reed, I’m in trouble.” Her normally high-pitched voice filled with dread.

I ran a hand over my face. Since my mother was the queen worrier, trouble could be anything, but likely not serious. “What’s going on?”

“Do you remember Carol Paxton?”

“The name sounds vaguely familiar.”

“Carol and I have been friends for years. She used to come to the bridge parties I hosted.”

My parents retired to Palm Beach, Florida, several years ago, but when they lived in Denver, my mother belonged to a variety of social clubs, and she loved to have parties at our house. I’m sure I’d met all her friends at one time or another, but their faces tended to meld together.

“Okay,” I said slowly, indicating I needed more information.

“I’m sure you saw Carol. She usually paired up with Diane Linfield. Boy, those two sure made a team. It was like they could read each other’s minds, and know what each had in their hand. I tell you–”

When my mother got on a tangent, she could talk faster than an auctioneer. And she was likely to ramble.

“Mother,” I said to bring her back around to what she’d called about. “Are you in some kind of trouble with Carol?”

“Not in trouble with her, like we did something together. She’s accusing me of a crime!”

She sniffled, and I could hear the tears threatening to start.

I leaned forward. “Everything’s going to be okay. Tell me what happened.”

She cleared her throat and sucked in a deep breath.

“It’ll be okay.”

I waited while she sniffed a few times, then began.

“Carol called me a little while ago. I could tell something was wrong because she wasn’t her usual friendly self. As a matter of fact, she was downright curt, barely asked me how I was doing and didn’t even ask about your father. I was just starting to tell her about our plans for a Norwegian cruise when she interrupted me and asked if I remembered the party Paul and I went to at her house after you and Willie got married last year.”

“Right. Willie and I went on our honeymoon, but you and Dad stayed in Denver for a week or so.”

“That’s right. We had a wonderful time catching up with all our friends that we hadn’t seen. We played golf, and Carol thought it would be fun to have a party like we used to, where we played games and visited. Do you remember any of her parties? They were a lot of fun. Carol is a hoot, and I laugh so hard when I’m around her.”

“Yes, but back to the party at Carol’s house.”

“I’m getting there, dear. Anyway, Carol had a lovely party at her house. She went all out, spent a lot of money on the food, and she even got an expensive cake. It was wonderful, and we got to see some of our best friends. As I recall, it was great catching up with everyone, including Carol and her husband, Dale. So I told her that, and she ignored that, and then she accused me of stealing her diamond and emerald ring.”

“What ring?”

I couldn’t picture Carol at all, let alone her ring.

“It’s a long story,” Mom said with a huge sigh. I braced myself for a long call. “The ring belonged to her aunt, and Carol said it’s worth almost fifty thousand dollars.”

My jaw dropped. “Fifty thousand? How big was the ring?”

“I don’t know how big it was, but it was beautiful, with a big diamond, and emeralds around it. Reed, it was a lovely ring, but I don’t remember Carol ever wearing it.”

“Where’d she get it?”

“Carol had an aunt who was quite wealthy. I guess her husband made a mint on Wall Street, and this aunt had a large collection of expensive jewelry. When this aunt passed away, she left it to Carol and her sister Bernice. Apparently all the jewelry is worth a lot of money.”

“Why would Carol think you stole the ring?”

“I’m getting to that.”

“Slowly,” I muttered.

“What?’

“Nothing. Go on.”

“Okay. Carol usually kept all the jewelry in a box in her closet. But the night of this party, one of her friends wanted to see some of the jewelry, so Carol took us ladies back to her bedroom where the box was, got out all the jewelry, and showed it to us.”

“You were there?”

“Yes, dear, that’s what I just said. She kept each piece in a jewelry box, and she took them all out and we looked at them, tried some pieces on, and Carol talked about her aunt. She had us laughing about some of the things her aunt did, and we were having a good time. Then Dale came in and said she had a phone call, so we all left the bedroom.”

“Didn’t she put the jewelry back in the closet after she’d shown it to you all?”

“No. Carol admitted that she’d had a bit to drink, and she was distracted by everyone – and she’d had that phone call – so she left the jewelry on the nightstand and she never went back that night to put it all away. I didn’t hear anything about the jewelry until the next evening, when she called me. She’d finally gone to put the pieces back in their boxes, and that’s when she realized the ring was missing. She made it no secret that she believes it was taken sometime during the party, but she’s never been sure because she didn’t discover the theft right away.”

“Someone could’ve broken in later that night or the next day.”

“Not according to Carol. They were there all night, and no one was in the house the next day. She was home the next day while Dale was out. No housecleaners had been in the home or anyone else. And only she and Dale would’ve gone back to the bedroom.”

“Even though Carol had a lot of jewelry, only the ring was stolen?”

“Yes.”

I thought for a moment. “Someone could’ve gone back in the bedroom the night of the party and taken the ring.”

“That’s true.”

“Mom, I’m not doubting you, but I have to ask: are you sure you never went back into the bedroom after you’d seen the jewelry? Was the powder room occupied so you went to use the master bath, something like that?”

“Reed, I know I can be a bit flighty at times, but I am absolutely, one hundred percent certain I never went back in that room. And it’s so sad, because Carol had been annoyed with me for a while, but when we went back to Denver for your wedding, it was as if everyone was back to normal.”

“Why was she was upset with you?” Sometimes getting information from people was like pulling teeth.

“It’s silly,” she said. “At one of our last golf games before your father and I moved to Florida, Dad and I played with Carol, Tina and Irene – you don’t know them – and I caught Carol cheating. She claimed it took fewer shots for her to get out of a bunker than it did. It was so silly for her to cheat, too. We’d had a friendly bet that the loser would buy dinner, and I guess she didn’t want to be that person. All I did was point out that she’d taken more shots than she’d written on her scorecard, and that upset her. She denied it, and I let it go. I didn’t golf very well that day and ended up paying for dinner, by the way, so it wouldn’t have mattered. But for a while, Carol seemed rather icy to me. I didn’t worry about it, and she was kind when we moved to Florida. We’ve stayed in contact, and I haven’t had any hint that she thought I was a thief – until today.”

“She thinks you found an opportunity later that night to steal the ring?”

“Yes.”

“If Carol thought you stole the ring, why didn’t she confront you about it right after it happened? Why is she accusing you now?”

“At the time, she didn’t know who took the ring. At least that’s what she always said, but you are not going to believe this. Carol said that Audrey called her last night and told her that I’d stolen the ring.”

“Wait. Who’s Audrey?” I was having trouble keeping up with all of my mother’s friends.

“Audrey Burdick. I don’t think you’ve met her. She and Carol have been friends for a long time, but Audrey lived in California until recently. She went through a divorce last year and decided she wanted to get as far away from her ex-husband as possible. She’s the one who wanted to see the jewelry at the party.”

My head was spinning. “Why would Audrey think you stole the ring, and why not say something that night?”

“According to Carol, Audrey called today and told her about me. Audrey said that the night of the party, later in the evening, she’d seen me come out of the master bedroom.”

“That doesn’t prove anything, and it sounds fishy. It’s a she-said she-said scenario.”

“I know.”

“You remember Audrey was at the party?”

“Yes. There weren’t that many of us there, and I remember everyone. Audrey’s divorced, but brought a date. I was not impressed with him.” She sniffed. “He was arrogant, acted as if he was some kind of art expert, and he didn’t talk to her all night.”

I ignored the tone about Audrey’s date and went on. “You’re sure Audrey was with the group of you who saw the jewelry?”

“Yes.”

“And she’s clear she saw you go into the bedroom later.”

“That’s what Carol says.” She moaned softly. “When I talked to Carol today, she was so angry with me, and she doesn’t believe I’m innocent. I tried to tell her this is preposterous, but she said she’s going to report me to the police. Reed, what am I going to do? I’ve never stolen anything in my life!”

For some people, that would be hyperbole. For my mother, it was the truth. She is a sweet, naïve, flighty, wonderful woman. And she is the most honest person I know. I love her dearly, and I wasn’t going to let her down.

“I’ll look into it,” I said.

“I’m going to fly out there and talk to Carol myself. I’m sure I can convince her this is all some kind of mistake. And I’d like to talk to Audrey, too. The nerve of her to say these things about me.”

“As much as Willie and I would love to see you, I’m not sure you need to drop everything and come out here just yet.”

Willie – real name Wilhemina – is my wife. And although she loves my mother, I’m not sure she’d want an impromptu visit either.

“Well, let me think about it,” she said.

“Where does Carol live?”

“You’ll talk to her?”

“Of course. Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Thank you.” Relief flooded her voice. She gave me Carol’s address and phone number.

“I may need to talk to Audrey as well. Do you have her number?”

“I don’t.”

“What about an address?”

“I looked for it on the Internet, but I couldn’t find it. I tried some online phone book thing, but it was useless.”

“That’s okay, I’ll get it.”

We chatted for a few more minutes. I asked to talk to Dad, but she said he was out running errands, so I told her to have him call me, and we hung up. I debated calling Carol, but I didn’t want to give her an opportunity to brush me off, so I decided an in-person visit would be better. It was a little after four o’clock. On a Sunday afternoon, I figured she’d likely be home, maybe getting ready for dinner, so now might be a good time. I put my book away and went out into the living room. Willie was sitting on the couch, reading on her Kindle. Our kitten, Humphrey, was curled up beside her.

“What’re you reading?” I asked.

“The Black Echo, by Michael Connelly.”

“That’s a good mystery.”

She nodded. “Who called?”

“Mom.”

“Did she irritate you? You look a little frustrated.”

“A misunderstanding between her and a friend.” I told her about my conversation with Mom. “Are you okay if I go talk to Carol?”

“Sure.” She held up her book. “That’ll give me time to finish this.”

“Thanks.”

I gave her a kiss, petted Humphrey – who, true to his species, seemed indifferent – then grabbed the keys to my 4-Runner and headed out the door.

This was a very good story and a very easy read. There is always something that I find in this author's style that makes all her books enjoyable. Waiting for the next book……hurry!! ~Reader review