Some people develop eye strain looking for trouble.
—ANONYMOUS
I DON’T KNOW how long I stood there, staring at the necklace. Eventually I realized that my fingers were numb with cold and I was shivering. Behind me a twig snapped. Whirling around, I searched the inky darkness. I couldn’t see anything, but I felt the vulnerability of my position. My skin prickled with the uneasy sensation that I was being watched from behind one of the windows that ran along the back of the inn. With my heart pounding in my ears, I glanced up at the dark casements and ran for the house. My stumbling footsteps on the ice-covered snow sounded like rapid gunfire.
Back inside the dining room, I fumbled with the latch. When I finally secured it, I sagged against the wall. Rubbing my hands together for warmth, I wondered if the necklace could be a clue to Gerald’s murder. The initials didn’t belong to anyone staying at the inn—that is, if the owner was under her real name.
I crept up the stairs, desperate not to make any noise. Turning the corner, I was surprised to see a line of light spilling out from under Peter’s door. Wondering why he was up at this hour, I moved toward his room and gave the door a light tap with my knuckle. Almost instantly it was flung open. Shock registered on Peter’s face when he saw me. “Elizabeth!” he said. “I didn’t hear you get back. What’s going on?”
“Can I come in?” I whispered, glancing behind me down the dark hallway.
“Of course.” He stepped aside. “Is everything okay? Did Daniel do something?”
“No, Daniel didn’t do anything,” I snapped, pushing past him into the room.
“Then what’s going on?” he asked. Surveying the room, I saw that the bed was still made; there weren’t even indentations in its brightly colored patchwork quilt. An open book lay on the seat of a rocking chair by the floor lamp. I looked at Peter. He was wearing the same jeans and sweater he had had on earlier.
“What are you still doing up?” I asked, suddenly suspicious.
“Nothing,” he mumbled. “I … couldn’t sleep, so I was reading.” He had obvious trouble meeting my eyes.
I stared at him. “In a chair? Fully dressed? Across the room from the bed?”
“Um … yeah,” Peter said feebly.
Realization dawned. “Oh, my God! Were you waiting up for me?”
He still refused to meet my eyes. Stuffing his thumb into his belt loop, he mumbled, “Something like that.”
“Are you kidding me? Why?”
Peter closed his eyes and ground his teeth before answering. “Because I was worried, all right? I know you like Daniel, but I don’t. I don’t trust him. Aunt Winnie wanted to do it herself, but I talked her out of it. She’s tired enough as it is.”
I didn’t say anything. I was torn between hugging him and throwing something at him.
“Well, you needn’t have bothered,” I said after a minute. “I’m fine.”
“Then what’s going on? Why are you here?”
I pulled the necklace out of my pocket and told him what had happened. I did, however, gloss over the part where I frisked the bird feeder.
Peter perched on the edge of the bed. “What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know.” I took a seat in the rocking chair. “Whose necklace could it be? I don’t see how this connects to Gerald’s murder, but it’s got to.”
“It might. I think you should tell Detective Stewart.”
“Oh, I will,” I said. “I can’t wait to point him to a clue that has nothing to do with Aunt Winnie.” I pushed back in the rocking chair. The resulting creak from the wood sounded like a supernatural shriek. I stopped moving.
“Do you want me to drive you to the police station tomorrow?”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll call him first. Besides, I can’t go right away. Linnet has invited Aunt Winnie and me to lunch tomorrow.”
“I know. Aunt Winnie told me. I didn’t think she was particularly close to Linnet. What’s the reason for the visit?”
“Officially, it’s just a social visit, but of course that’s only a pretense. I imagine that Linnet extended the invitation to appease Jackie’s curiosity. Jackie probably thinks that we’re a source of information about the investigation.” I smiled. “The irony, of course, is that that’s precisely why Aunt Winnie and I are going—to see what we can learn from Jackie.”
“What makes you think she knows anything?” He stretched his long frame back onto the bed. Raising himself onto his elbows, he stared straight into my eyes. If it had been anyone other than Peter, I would have thought he was trying to flirt with me.
“Well, you have to admit that she has a special knack for gossip,” I said. “I don’t know how she does it, but she’s managed to uncover an awful lot about everything that’s going on in this town since she’s arrived. And there’s something else. When we were leaving Lauren’s the other day, she seemed upset by something.” I sighed and rested my head against the back of the chair. “I know it’s a long shot, but if Jackie knows something that might help Aunt Winnie, then I’ll have lunch with her every day of the week until the murderer is caught.”
Peter nodded and tried to suppress a yawn. I stood up. “All right. I’m going to bed. Which,” I added dryly, “means you can, too.”
“Wait, you didn’t tell me what happened with Daniel.” Peter scrambled into an upright position. “Did you find out anything about his relationship with Lauren? What did he say?”
I gritted my teeth and opened the door. “He said lots. But if I repeated it, it would only make you blush.”
Peter scoffed. “The inane mutterings of some poncey Englishman might make me laugh, but I seriously doubt they would make me blush.”
I was tired of sparring with him. I was tired, period. Without another word, I shut the door behind me and walked down the hall to my room.
Before I went down to start breakfast the next morning, I called Detective Stewart from my room. Sitting in the wingback chair, I nervously traced the floral patterns of the fabric with my forefinger and practiced what I was going to say. But as soon as I heard his gravelly voice on the line, my mind went blank. Instead of a concise description of last night’s events, I blurted out, “This is Elizabeth Parker. I found a necklace.”
There was a pause on the other end. “Hello, Ms. Parker,” he finally said. “And this concerns me how, exactly?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I think it may have something to do with the murder.” I rose from my chair and walked around the room. The floor’s wood planks were cold under my bare feet, but the pacing helped my nerves.
“I see,” he said noncommittally. “Would you like to come down to the station to discuss it? I could meet you here around noon.”
I thought of the luncheon with Linnet and Jackie. I couldn’t risk missing it on the off chance that Jackie did know something. “I can’t meet you then,” I said. “How about later this afternoon? Will you be in your office then?”
“Let me see.” The sound of papers shuffling as he flipped through his calendar floated over the line. “I’m going to be out of the office most of the afternoon. Why don’t I meet you at the inn around four o’clock?”
“No. Not here. How about at the Flowering Teapot? Can you meet me there at four o’clock?”
“Yes,” he said reluctantly. “But what is this about, Ms. Parker?”
“Last night, I found a necklace outside. It looks expensive. It was half buried in the snow. It’s engraved with the initials V.A.B. No one at the party has those initials.”
Detective Stewart coughed, or maybe he was just trying not to laugh. “Just because it doesn’t have one of the guest’s initials on it doesn’t mean it doesn’t belong to any of them. People inherit engraved jewelry and silverware all the time.”
“Then why has no one come forward to say it’s been lost?”
He did what sounded like deep-breathing exercises. Finally, he said, “What were the initials on the necklace again?”
“V.A.B.,” I said quickly, hope rising in my chest. “So you’ll check it out?”