When Molly pulled into the back alley, she said to Emma, “I’m not going to tell Bitsy about the stuff we brought back yet. I want to call Cleo first and get more info. I have a hunch that I’d be better off convincing Carla to consign everything to Sotheby’s. She’d have a huge international exposure and a better opportunity to get top dollar that way.”
“Then we’d lose out on the commission. Can we afford to do that?”
Molly smiled. “Not to worry, dear girl. I’ll charge Carla a fee. We’ll probably make more that way.”
“Aha! The devious mind of an antiques dealer is still alive.”
“Nothing devious about it. It’s called business.”
After they’d unloaded the van, and set the boxes in the garage, Molly dropped in to see Bitsy. She was with two men who were looking over a Dutch mahogany floral marquetry washstand. Molly could hear Bitsy’s sales pitch, and she almost felt sorry for the men.
They had no idea what they were in for. Once Bitsy Morgan took center stage, she was hard to refuse. It would be a terrific sale. Eighteen hundred bucks for the early-nineteenth-century piece was a good price, and it would help make up for the day the shop had been closed.
Molly backed out slowly and took the back stairs in the courtyard up to the apartment. She called Daria, made a reservation for Emma and Macomber for tomorrow, and then, on a whim and a need to fill the rest of the day, Molly said to Emma, “Hey! How about doing a little shopping and then maybe a movie? We haven’t done that for a while.”
Emma gave Molly a sly smile. “Like, maybe the yellow turtleneck and jeans might not be too cool to wear tomorrow?”
Molly laughed. “Like, maybe one of those cotton matchstick skirts you were looking at in that Macy’s ad might be better? And maybe with a new T-shirt to go with it?”
“And, like, maybe that new Orlando Bloom movie after?”
Mimicking Emma, Molly laughed. “Oh, that so works for me.”
Chapter 26
MOLLY AND EMMA were on the way home from the movie when Molly’s cell phone rang. “Wanna bet it’s Randall?” Emma said.
Molly rolled her eyes. “No. I’d probably lose. Let’s hope it’s Bitsy telling me about another fabulous sale.” When Molly answered, she looked at Emma and grinned. “Yes, Randall, what a pleasure to hear from you.”
“How’s pizza with the evening news?” Randall said. “You might need moral support, so I thought I’d lend mine.”
“The pizza sounds good, but if you’re referring to Carla and Susan and that thing this morning, I wasn’t involved, remember? And besides, how do you know what’s on the news?”
“I told you before that I know everything. I haven’t seen the tape yet, but I understand they got you leaving Bello Lago.”
“Damn it! Why waste film on me leaving?”
“Good question. So let’s find out, okay? I’ll bring the pizza.”
Molly snapped her cell shut with such ire, that Emma blinked at the sound. “Oh, oh. Now what?”
Molly told Emma what Randall had said, then added, “Let’s just hope Mr. Macomber misses the news.”
“I don’t care. I’m just having lunch, and that’s all.”
But Molly did care. She didn’t need to offer him more fuel for any fire he might want to keep burning. Molly checked the time on the dashboard clock. They had fifteen minutes to get home before the news came on. The time to get from Del Monte Center in Monterey to the apartment was ten minutes max. She wouldn’t have time to stop in and see Bitsy. She picked up her cell and called her. “Bitsy? Hi, how’s it going? Really? The washstand, too? Great! Listen, I’m running late for something, so I won’t stop to see you, okay? I’m waiting on a call from Cleo. I know it’s an odd time for her to call, but what can I say? We’ll chat tomorrow. “Bye”.
“Uh, that was a fib, wasn’t it?” Emma said.
“Sort of. I left Cleo a message to call me when you were trying on clothes, so it’s not a total lie. We just don’t have enough time to explain to Bitsy what’s going on and still catch the news. I hope Randall comes up the back stairs. Besides, she’ll see it later and call me.
Emma laughed. “That’s a given.”
Molly took the Carpenter Street turnoff a little too fast. She slowed down and tried to concentrate on her driving. “Speaking of fibs, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Are there more things I don’t know about?”
“If you’re referring to Mr. Macomber, I haven’t lied to you. There really isn’t much of a distinction between lying and fibbing. It’s a character flaw most of us are not immune to. And that’s what I really want to discuss. Pride is one of them, too. Which I know happens to be one of my worst flaws. You got a front-row seat this morning in the cave. I should have held my ground and not gone along with Carla.”
“She was rude, pushing you like that.”
“Yes, she was. But the point is—”
“How easy it is to not stick to your guns and cave into peer pressure?”
Molly gave Emma a big smile. “I should have known you figured that out right away. But I want you to remember that tomorrow, okay? No one can put any pressure on you. But give Mr. Macomber a chance.”
Emma looked out the window. She was silent until they reached Ocean Avenue. When they parked in the alley, she said, “I’ll keep an open mind tomorrow.”
Randall was waiting at the top of the stairs. He held a big box of pizza. “Good timing. We’ve got four minutes until show time.”
They didn’t have to hurry. The top news covered an earthquake in Santa Cruz that had set buildings swaying, and the latest political scandal in Sacramento. The segment showing Carla and Susan ran at the end of the news. It was apparent the piece had been trimmed, and a live interview with the two women had been cut. Only the brief voice-over by the reporter, offered viewers a clue to the meeting of the so-called widows.
After a quick reminder of who they were and their ties to Todd Jessop, the reporter went on to say: “A true example of compassion was witnessed today between two remarkable women, who by all expectations should be opponents. It was touching to see how they have banded together to help each other in their time of need. An in-depth interview with Susan Jessop and Carla Jessop will be aired later in the week.”
Molly clicked off the TV and looked at Randall. With much relief, she said, “I think your source was misinformed. I thankfully wasn’t part of that Kodak moment.”
Emma said, “Maybe you’re in the next installment?”
Molly pretended to shiver. “Let’s hope not! I’ve had enough TV exposure for a lifetime.”
“Guess we’ll have to stay tuned,” Randall said.
Emma jumped up from the sofa. “I’ll clear this pizza stuff up, and then I’ve got some homework to do.” She looked at Molly, then bit her lower lip. “I might not have time tomorrow.”
“I’ll take care of the mess,” Molly said. “You go on ahead.”
“Okay, but why don’t you show Randall those cool dishes Mrs. Jessop wants you to sell? Bet he’s never seen those Montelupo thingies.”
“I’ve got a meeting with Loomis and Lucero in an hour. This won’t take long will it? I mean, no lectures or anything, okay?” Randall winked at Molly.
Molly headed for the French doors. “I think we can manage to accomplish a quick history in about three minutes.”
When they entered the garage, Molly told Randall about Carla’s plans to go to Peru for a vintner’s conference. “What I don’t get is, if Carla is so worried about her father’s health, why leave for a conference now? It doesn’t make sense.”
“This trip to Peru sounds snaky. And why take Michelle with her? What the hell is a kid gonna do there when her mother is tied up in meetings? I agree it would be more up Reggie’s alley. I’ll pass the info on to Stuart. I don’t know if he’s cautioned her to stick around or not.”
When Molly stopped at the box where the dishes were stored, Randall said, “Hold up here. That’s a big box. I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Calm down. Carla pulled this box out for me when I was wrapping the dishes. The good stuff is on top of whatever else is in there. Probably some of the lesser pieces.”
When Molly pulled the wrapping from the Montelupo dishes, she was delighted to see the appreciative glimmer in Randall’s eyes. Most people didn’t know he collected Directoire furniture from the late eighteenth century, and was more astute about the period than many dealers Molly had known. She gave him a quick rundown on their history. “Aren’t they gorgeous?”
“They’re beauts. Big bucks, huh?”
“Very big. We’re talking about an easy five figures for all.”
“Okay, you got my attention. Let’s see what else is in the box.”
Molly removed the rest of the paper, and then said, “Nothing exciting. Just some old farming stuff. I’m not sure what it was used for.”
Randall peered over her shoulder. He quickly pulled her hands from the box. “Don’t touch that!” Gently easing Molly away, he reached in his pocket for a pen, then lifted the leather pads with the straps and attached spike, and set them on the table. Very slowly, he pulled out the rest of the old newspaper and then blew out his breath. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!”
“Are there spiders in there?”
Randall shook his head as he opened his cell. “Don’t talk and don’t touch anything.” He punched in a number, waited for a moment, and then said, “Dan? I’m in Molly’s garage. Get Stuart on the phone and tell him to get his ass over here on the double and bring a crime-scene tech with him. No... no, Molly is fine. I think I’ve found something connected to Jessop’s shooter. Tell Stuart to come in an unmarked. Low profile, okay?”
When Molly heard Randall go on to tell Lucero that what she thought were old farming tools were, in fact, tree-climbing apparatus, she sank into a chair, and said, “Holy moley.”
Randall hung up, looked at Molly, and added, “And then some. Tell me when you first saw these and where.”
Molly told him about the shed that was really an old wine cave, and how Carla had some of her employees take the boxes back to the tasting room. “I was unpacking and saw them in one of the boxes. Like I said, I thought they were farm things. I just threw newspaper back on top, and then went on to the next box.”
“Did Carla see them?”
“No. And I didn’t mention them. I mean, they didn’t mean anything.”
“Did you handle them?”
Molly thought for a moment. “I think I did. I’ll have to tell the sheriffs guy The employees who brought the boxes over to the tasting room wouldn’t have. These things are used to climb trees?”
“Yeah. The thing with the double belt is called a saddle, and the other pieces are tree climbing spurs.”
“Who uses this stuff besides utility men when the power goes out?”
“Foresters use them, and loggers, and hunters setting up blinds.” Randall began pacing the room. He shoved his hands into his pockets, searching for his cigar case. “Funny place,” he said, “to stash this stuff. Why keep it? Why not dump it somewhere or bury it? And where’s the rest of the climbing gear?”
“Maybe he planned to, but hasn’t had time,” Molly said.
Randall shook his head. “He had the time. And he knew about the old wine cave and the boxes of family stuff. He felt safe stashing it there. The killer isn’t a stranger or a hired hit. Big thing is, we’ve finally got something tangible. Stuart can get some mileage from this find.”
“My mind is rewinding a few things,” Molly said.
Randall found a chair and pulled it next to her. “Such as?”
She thought for a moment. “First of all, that conversation I overheard between Dino Horne and Reggie Sullivan. Reggie’s brother? The skeet shooter? And then this surprise
simpático
act between Susan and Carla. I mean, come on! I just don’t buy it. Do you?”
Randall threw up his hands. “Hey, at the risk of being accused of being a misogynist again? No.”
“So what do you think?” Molly asked.
“I’m not sure yet. But it ain’t charitable.”
It was after eight that evening, and Molly was worn out. Lieutenant Stuart, from the sheriffs department, had at least been a gentleman and had only asked Molly twice how she’d happened to be in possession of the tree-climbing gear. He’d read her file earlier, he’d said, and didn’t feel it necessary for her to go into the office yet to make a statement. Randall said Molly’s prints were on file, and he’d send them over. Molly, however, almost lost it when the crime-scene tech who had accompanied Stuart wanted to include the Montelupo dishes along with the tree-climbing gear. Randall stepped in and explained to Stuart what they were and that they had no connection to Jessop’s homicide. “I don’t think,” Randall had said, “the department wants to be responsible for a couple of dishes worth maybe ten grand.” Stuart quickly agreed. He made a few notes, and then left with the crime-scene tech.
The discovery interrupted Randall’s meeting with Lucero and Loomis, so they decided to just hold it in Molly’s garage. Molly offered to make coffee in the storage room, and as she was about to leave, she said, “By the way, Emma is having lunch tomorrow with Marshall Macomber.” She saw the surprise on their faces. “It’s the right thing to do, guys.” When no one replied, she nodded. “Good. I knew you’d all agree.”