1 Depth of Field (15 page)

Chapter Sixteen

“Grab a camera, and let’s go,” Spencer said when I opened the door to his bang.

I blinked at him. “I’ve just finished with a client, and I have to go through the pictures to make sure—”

“My photographer is out of commission for the foreseeable future.” He stabbed a finger in my direction. “That leaves you as the only one qualified that I know of. I need you now. So let’s go.”

“If curiosity wasn’t getting the better of me, I would tell you what I think of the highhandedness.”

“I’ll remind you later,” he quipped.

I spun on my heel and hurried to the small table I had erected to work on. As I closed out of the program I used to touch up the photos and then shut down the computer, I questioned him. “Where are we going?”

“Susan Aston’s house.”

I froze. “Really? What happened?”

“Seems there’s been a break-in.”

I tucked the camera in a bag and checked that I had an extra battery and the proper lenses. “You don’t sound like you believe it.”

“I’m reserving judgment.”

I trusted his instincts, but if Susan was lying about the break-in, what reason would she have of making it up? She knew the police hadn’t ruled her out as a suspect in the case, but maybe something made her think they were closing in. Could that be it? I had to admit as Spencer drove us over to her house, I was grateful to whoever couldn’t make it to take photos.

“What happened to your photographer?”

He eyed me as if he hated having to admit what it was and then focused on the road again. “He eloped.”

“What?”

Spencer grumbled. “Last night he ran off with Reeza Maxwell, a girl who—”

“Barbie?” I slapped a hand over my mouth, but I noted amusement in Spencer’s gaze.

He grinned. “Yes, the Barbie. The two of them had been seeing each other for a few years, I hear. They were engaged. Her mother and his were in a state of war over the arrangements.”

“Oh, that could get sticky.”

“Very, I’m told. The couple took matters into their own hands, and now I’m down a photographer.”

“Well, it’s good for me.” I checked over my camera and supplies for good measure. “I wish them many happy years together.”

Spencer’s answer was another grunt.

We arrived at Susan’s rambling estate, and it took my breath away. I had seen the homes in Hillrise, but up close was an entirely different matter. Susan had to have at least ten acres of land, and her two-story, expansive house might fit my entire apartment into one room. As I started at it, I began to wonder how Ollie serviced so much property and have time and energy to help anyone else?

“He does odds and ends,” Spencer said as we exited the car.

“What?” I looked at him, and he pointed with his chin to toward the side of the house. I caught sight of a man I thought might have been Ollie, just stepping into a smaller building at the back of the main house.

“Ollie,” Spencer explained. “He doesn’t handle the estate per se. Just the occasional repair job, pulls a weed. They have a regular company that comes out. Seems Ollie did handle the estate when he was younger for the previous owner. Alvin Aston kept him on until Ollie got sick and couldn’t keep up. Susan wanted him fired, but Alvin kept him on as an odds and ends person. I’m surprised she hasn’t let him go already now that Alvin’s gone.”

I was too, but maybe she worried people would begin to hate her more than some did already. I imagined if she really didn’t like Ollie working for her, she would move beyond such feelings soon enough. Poor Ollie.

As we walked to the house, my heartbeat picked up. I was both excited and nervous. I knew I could do a good job, but it had been a while since I left working for the police behind, even before I moved away from New York. Of course this wasn’t a murder scene, but it still filled me with trepidation.

Spencer rang the bell, and we waited. I expected a servant to greet us, but instead, the wide, heavy door swung open to reveal Susan herself. “Sheriff.” Her gaze swung from him to me, and she frowned. “What is
she
doing here?”

A snarky comment rose to my lips, but I bit it down and maintained a façade of polite professionalism. The limitations of such were short, so Spencer spoke up. “She is my new forensics photographer, and we’re here on police business. Now, you said you had a break-in. Can you show me where the incident took place?”

Susan offered me another glare and then let us pass into the interior of her home. At this point, in regard to the elegance, the obvious expense, and the general breath-stealing ambience of the entry hall and the rooms I happened to see into as we moved along the hall, professionalism was the only thing that kept me from
oohing
and
aahing
like a deprived little urchin just in from the streets. Whatever windfall Alvin had received from his investments, it made my inheritance look like lunch money for that same poor urchin.

Spencer and I followed Susan into a room I could think of no name to be called other than a sitting room. The space appeared to have no purpose. Too small to be a living room and to have guests in, but maybe it was a place where the woman of the house could be alone to gather her thoughts and plan her day. A desk in the corner, a couch and armchair, but no TV, that would mess up the tranquility of the furnishings. Even the way the windows were situated to capture as much sunlight as— My musings came to an abrupt halt. I frowned at the scene before me.

“You say the intruder came in through these windows?” Spencer was saying. “Then he walked through the house and up the stairs to your room?”

Susan curled her fingers into her palms and held both fists together in front of her. I didn’t need to be a trained officer of the law to tell she was nervous. “Yes, I mean no. Not my bedroom. The room next to mine where I keep my personal items.”

I also knew she was lying, and I couldn’t believe she was so foolish as to think Spencer would believe her. All one needed was common sense to see that the glass, which should be inside the room if an intruder broke into the home, wasn’t. The glass lay in fragments on the pane and in the grass beneath the window.

“That is—” I began, but Spencer gave a miniscule shake of his head, silencing me. I glanced toward Susan, who was still relaying her nonsensical story. She hadn’t noticed.

“After he came in here,” Spencer said, playing along, “how do you know he entered your…uh…other room?”

Susan gave a long-suffering sigh. “My boudoir is where I keep my clothes and shoes, as well as my jewelry.”

“Show me,” Spencer ordered.

As we walked, he studied the path we took, probably trying to see if there were any fragments of glass tracked through the house that might leave a clue. I kept to one side of where this fantasy person might have stepped, but I knew it was just procedure on Spencer’s part. He had to follow through until he was sure Susan had made the entire business up.

When we arrived in the boudoir, I had another jolt. If anything should ever happen to Susan—and I wasn’t hoping it would—her heir would have the inventory for a small boutique stocked full of clothes and shoes. Rack upon rack, and row upon row of clothes and shoes were arranged in this room like a gigantic closet. Yet, that wasn’t all. Susan had placed a couch, a coffee table, lamps, even a TV in this room so she could spend time with her apparel. I wondered if Alvin had ever joined her, and they sat together among the Jimmy Choos and Prada. I didn’t think so.

“It’s all gone,” Susan wailed, and I dragged my gaze away from the dresses. She stood at a bureau I had ignored when I walked in but now realized wasn’t a bureau but a tall, narrow jewelry box on club feet with ornately carved legs. Six drawers with golden knobs stood open to various degrees, all empty. My heart thudded in my chest. Surely, she wasn’t saying what I thought she was. Susan sniffed and held a tissue to her nose. “He stole all of my jewelry!”

For a good ten seconds, Spencer and I stood there staring at her wide-eyed, and then he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and began to dial.

“What are you doing?” Susan demanded. “Did you hear me? All my jewelry is gone.”

Spencer didn’t look up, but a nerve ticked in his temple. “I’m calling for someone to come out to dust for prints, and we’ll have to do a thorough search of the premises.”

“What?” Susan squeaked. “Why would you do that?”

While they discussed it, I wandered over to the window and twitched the curtain back an inch. The view opened over the lawn at the side of the house. Ollie had just returned from the other building, and he ambled along, head down. I assumed he looked for weeds. From my vantage point, the lawn appeared perfect.

An idea popped into my head. I turned to Spencer and raised my camera. “Boss, I should probably get some pictures of the point of entry, inside and outside.”

He looked at me, and I’m sure his lip jerked upward for an instant. “Good idea. Go ahead.” When Susan would have followed me back downstairs, Spencer dominated her attention. I managed to get to the first floor, and after a couple wrong turns made it to the back of the house and exited. Ollie was just turning toward me, and I waved.

He automatically cast his gaze upward toward the window where I had stood watching him. Then he looked at me again and nodded. After an eternity in which I willed him to hurry, he reached the side of the house.

“Hello, Ollie, how are you today?”

He took out a handkerchief from his back pocket and mopped his forehead. “As good as can be expected, I guess. It’s mighty hot, like summer doesn’t want to leave.”

“It is.” I didn’t want to discuss the weather. Who knew when Susan would come downstairs and order Ollie back to work. “I guess you heard about the break-in?”

He blinked at me.

“You know, someone broke into the house and stole all of Susan’s jewelry?”

Ollie hesitated, but he couldn’t stand keeping a secret like this one. “If you ask me, she stole it all herself.”

“Why? Is she having money troubles?”

Ollie chuckled, a raspy sound. “Her? No. Alvin left her okay. I think she stole it to hide.”

“Hide what?”

He leaned away from me and scanned around us, but we were alone. Then he moved a step closer. I held my breath because as he said it was hot, and he had been out here a while. The air around him was not as fresh as one would like, if you get my meaning.

“I heard it from David, and I told Talia. Well, you know how much she likes being the one with the latest scoop.”

That was the pot calling the kettle black.

“She probably told Edna in some noisy place, and Edna, she can’t hear worth a darn.”

I didn’t remember her having that issue when I talked to her. Sounded like selective hearing.

“Talia probably had to yell, and well, everybody in town knows, I guess.”

“Knows what?” I asked just to be sure, but I had already figured out what he meant.

“The police are looking for the jewelry David made for Alvin.”

Ollie watched for my reaction, but when I didn’t respond at all, he glowered at me. I puzzled over why Susan would decide to steal her own jewelry. “Even if the police got a search warrant—and why would they—to look at her jewelry, she wouldn’t be found guilty of anything if they found the missing pieces there.”

Ollie rocked on his heels. “That’s
if
they found them there.”

Now I did gasp. “She’s scared they
won’t
find them. Which means—”

“Which means the rumor might be true that Alvin was ready to leave her.”

Ollie nodded, a self-satisfied grin on his face. He started to turn away, but I caught his arm to stop him. When my fingers met with moisture, I snatched them back and rubbed them on my slacks. “Ollie, were you around the day Alvin died?”

His expression closed. “I might have been.”

“Ollie, if you know something, you should say,” I insisted. “Even if you don’t want to tell me, you should tell the sheriff. Your employer, the man who looked out for you when no one else did was killed. Don’t you think he deserves justice?”

He glared at me. “I don’t know anything about no murder, and that’s the truth!”

I could have pulled my hair out in frustration. I had no tricks and no soft and sweet ways to convince him to talk to me. Even if I did, it might entail me touching his sweaty arm again. I remembered Diana being that way. One smile and a gentle touch, and men were eating out of her palms. I’d never had the knack. Even if I did, Ollie was old enough to be my granddad. I shivered at the thought. His tastes also ran to grumpy old women like Talia.

While I argued with myself about what to say to convince Ollie to talk to me, he apparently felt the weight of what I’d said. Maybe I was better than I thought.

“Alvin didn’t deserve to die the way he did,” Ollie grumbled. “He put up with a lot from
her
.”

“You mean Susan.”

“Keep up, Makayla. Of course I mean Susan.” Now he sounded like Talia. She’d be proud.

“You saw something that night? Something interesting?”