Angora Alibi (3 page)

Kevin’s face reddened with his grin. “Aw, shucks.”

A year at the Culinary Institute clearly hadn’t rubbed away the young chef’s gentle
veneer. “Head chef. Good for you, Kevin.” The others clapped their approval.

“So, master chef, what are you doing tending bar?” Cass asked.

Kevin poured a rose-colored drink mix into a glass. “How do you say no to Laura Danvers
and Willow Adams—and both of them at once? They’ve mastered the fine art of getting
free help.” He nodded toward a tall man farther down the bar. “They also figured I’d
bring one of the Edge’s real bartenders along with me.”

“Who’s that? Just when I think I know the whole town, some great-looking guy appears,”
Cass said.

Birdie slipped on her glasses and looked down the bar. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. You
know him, Cass. It’s that sweet little Tyler Gibson, all grown up. He’s been back
home for a couple months now.”

Cass took a closer look. The man’s wide smile was concentrated on several young women
walking by. “Ty? Good grief. I used to babysit the Gibson kids.” She stared at the
well-built blond bartender until he finally looked their way.

He grinned, then shrugged and walked toward the group, lifting one broad hand in greeting.
“Hey, Cass. I thought for a minute you weren’t going to acknowledge me.”

“The bane of my babysitting career.” Cass followed her words with a whooping laugh.
“You were a mess.”

Tyler matched her laugh. “Hey, give a guy a chance. I’ve reformed. I haven’t snuck
a beer past a babysitter in, what, a dozen years? I even mix drinks now—legitimately.”
He puffed up his broad chest and cocked his thumb at the line of bottles behind him.
“Believe it, O ye of little faith.”

Cass shook her head and looked around at the others. “This kid was a handful—and sweet-talked
his way out of everything.”

Birdie waved her words away. “I’ve known Tyler since he was knee-high to a grasshopper.
He’s a wonderful boy.” She pushed her glasses into her cap of silver hair and smiled
at him. “Your grandmother is happy you’re back. Esther always stood by you even when
your parents were ready to sell you to the highest bidder.” Birdie reached across
the bar top and patted him on the cheek, a gesture only Birdie Favazza could carry
off graciously.

Ty laughed. “Having a grandma who was the town’s police dispatcher was a pain when
I was in high school, but she’s a great old gal. My folks retired to Florida, but
Grams talked me into coming back to Sea Harbor. I got laid off a construction job
in the city, so she paid for a quickie course in bartending and then sweetly talked
Kevin into giving me a gig at the Ocean’s Edge.”

“Of course she did,” Birdie said. “She’d move the earth for you, and we’re happy she
did.”

A group of college-aged women sidled up to the bar, their eyes and seductive smiles
focused on Tyler.

“Business.” Tyler lifted one shoulder in a playful shrug, then moved back to mixing
martinis and smiling his way into the women’s hearts.

“Who would have thought?” Cass said. “A nice kid with lots of visible attributes,
but as his grandma Esther would say, ‘not always with the sense God gave a donkey.’”

Birdie laughed. “She didn’t say donkey, if I remember the conversation correctly.
But I do remember her worries about him growing up. Everyone loves Ty. And he loves
everyone back in equal measure, but not always wisely.”

Nell motioned toward a table she’d claimed nearby just as a bell tinkled in the distance
and a microphone whistled to life.

Willow Adams, cochair of the event, stood as tall as her five-foot-one frame allowed
and welcomed them all to the first annual charity auction. “But before you head off
to the amazing food stations or to view tonight’s amazing donations, my cohost tonight,
Laura Danvers, and I would like to thank a few people.”

Elliot, Laura’s banker husband, led the applause as his wife hurried over to Willow’s
side. In her mid-thirties, Laura Danvers was already a well-respected leader in Sea
Harbor society. It was a rare charity that didn’t have a touch of Laura in it somewhere.

“So many people to thank, so little time.” Laura laughed, then gestured to the programs
scattered on all the tables and waved for those at the bar to find a place to sit.
“The program lists everyone who generously supported us tonight, but there are a couple
of people we want to mention because their drive and generosity are what we are all
about. Dr. Lily Virgilio, please join us.”

The crowd applauded again as the attractive doctor came forward to give a brief explanation
of the health program the community center was initiating for the families of Sea
Harbor who couldn’t afford care.

“I wonder if Lily’s associate is as supportive of the program as she is,” Izzy whispered
to Nell and Birdie. She nodded toward the table where Martin Seltzer sat, his long
face solemn and pale, his eyes never leaving Lily’s face.

“Not terribly happy, is he now?” Birdie frowned at the man, as if her look could coax
him into being a bit more cheery for the festive event. “Poor Martin. I think this
is the last place he wants to be. He told me once that he’d rather have a root canal
than attend obligatory cocktail parties.”

They watched the doctor cradle a glass of water in his long fingers, his eyes never
leaving Lily as she handed the microphone back to Laura and stepped off the stage,
returning to their table.

Willow picked up the praise. “And next, a huge thank-you to Franklin Danvers.” She
put her palms out and shook her head. “Okay, okay, we all know he’s Laura’s uncle
and there’s no way he could have turned us down when we went to him begging.”

She paused for brief laughter, then went on. “But Mr. Danvers didn’t just agree to
help, he said yes in a most generous way, underwriting all the food and drink you’re
enjoying tonight. And it’s my guess he’ll be reaching in his pockets again before
the evening is over, once his beautiful wife sees our auction items.”

Laura looked over and encouraged her uncle to stand. He and his wife sat at the head
table, along with the Drs. Virgilio and Seltzer.

“I think the new wife has definitely softened Franklin,” Ben said, laughing at Franklin’s
courtly bow.

“I think it’s a bit more than that,” Birdie said. “Not only is Tamara beautiful, but
she’s giving Franklin the one thing in his life that’s been missing. An heir.”

A perfectly coiffed Tamara Danvers sat with a look of pride on her face as she lifted
her hands in enthusiastic applause. A diamond ring sparkled on her finger. She leaned
over and said something low to Martin Seltzer, and to their surprise, the somber doctor
managed a smile.

Ben lifted an eyebrow. “She’s pregnant?”

“Newly pregnant,” Izzy said. “You’re just not on the cutting edge like we are, Uncle
Ben.”

“Maybe that explains Franklin’s recent largesse. He was in Europe for a few weeks
a short while back looking into new business opportunities for his firm. A successful
trip, I gather, but a side product was that he brought back some ideas to increase
tourism for Sea Harbor. A group of us got together at the library last week to talk
about it. On his way in, Franklin noticed some damage a winter storm had done to the
roof and wrote a check right then and there to fix it. And then he suggested that
the children’s room at the library looked a little ragged and needed some improvements.
He offered to cover those costs, too.”

“So, Sam, when are you going to pull out your wallet?” Cass asked. “How about a new
school for baby Perry?”

Their laughter was drowned out by Willow, once again taking the microphone as she
encouraged people to fill their plates at the gourmet food stations, enjoy the music
and dancing, and above all, bid on the many treasurers awaiting signatures at the
auction tables.

Izzy dropped her purse at the table. “While all of you are enjoying your alcoholic
beverages, I’m going to indulge myself in other ways. I’m going shopping.”

“I’m right behind you,” Cass said, dropping a lacy wrap on a chair back and asking
Danny to fill a plate for her.

They walked across the room, passed the veranda where Cass’ brother, Pete, and his
Fractured Fish band were warming up. Brightly decorated banners—courtesy of Canary
Cove artists—hung from fish line above the auction tables, designating the auction
categories.

“Jewelry,” Izzy read, heading toward a white-clothed table with tiered displays.

Willow was already there. “You have to see this,” she said, waving them over. “This
came in late today, just as we were finishing the setup.”

It was a platinum necklace—two gold hearts the size of pretzels hanging from the chain.
Roped around the hearts, binding them together, was a string of sparkling sapphires,
diamonds, and rubies.

Izzy gasped. “Good grief.”

“It’s big,” Cass said, touching the hearts with the tip of her finger.

Nell walked up and looked over Cass’ shoulder. “My. It’s certainly large,” she said,
moving in for a closer look. She frowned. “It looks familiar.”

“It’d be difficult to forget,” Izzy said. “But it’s not exactly your taste, Aunt Nell.”

Nell laughed. No, it wasn’t. It looked expensive. In fact, it shouted that fact for
all to see. Nell’s taste in jewelry ran to far more simple items.

“Are those stones real?” Izzy asked Willow.

“Real as you and me. At least that’s what the papers accompanying it read.”

“It must weigh a ton,” Cass said.

Tamara Danvers walked up behind them. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I could look at it
all night.”

“Beautiful . . . and big,” Cass repeated. “Very big.”

But Tamara ignored the teasing. Her eyes grew large as she examined the clear, perfect
diamonds, the rubies and sapphires circling the hearts. She leaned closer to the velvet
display.

Izzy looked at the card describing the gems. “It was an anonymous donation.”

Anonymous
. Nell looked more closely at the hearts. “Someone was generous to part with this.”

Tamara couldn’t take her eyes off the necklace. “I have a bracelet and earrings with
jewels slightly bigger, more expensive, but it would go beautifully together. It’s
very nice.”

“And big,” Willow whispered to Cass behind Tamara’s back.

Tamara touched it gingerly, almost as if a diamond would explode before her eyes.
Then she pressed a finger to her throat, as if feeling the necklace hanging there,
measuring it, touching her skin. “Franklin will want something to celebrate our news.
This might be just the thing.” Her smile was coy. She wrote down his name.

They waited for a moment to make sure of the good news being celebrated.

Tamara touched her abdomen lightly. “The heir,” she said, then scribbled a bid behind
his name. “People say it’s too early to be telling people, but I can’t seem to keep
the news private.”

“Good news can be like that,” Nell said. She smiled at the numbers Tamara had scribbled
on the bid sheet. “Franklin is very generous.”

“Yes, he is. He spoils me, especially now that we have a baby coming.”

“The necklace will look great on you,” Izzy said. “Not too many people could wear
a piece of jewelry like that—but you can, with your height and figure.”

“And these new breasts that pregnancy has given me,” she laughed. “Unexpected but
quite nice.” She looked down at her body with obvious pleasure.

They all smiled, not sure where to rest their eyes.

But it was true—the business mogul’s younger wife’s figure was even more voluptuous
with the increased blood supply of early pregnancy. She wore her beauty carefully,
as Birdie put it, as if it might break. It was well tended, made possible by Franklin’s
wealth. Tonight her figure was highlighted by a shimmering strapless gown and gold
necklace collar. Yes, she could wear the entwined hearts comfortably. They’d settle
between her breasts and beg to be admired.

“I love jewelry. And, well, that dear man owes me—he left me home alone for nearly
a month while he traveled the world.” Her words fell away as she looked at the necklace
again.

Willow wedged herself in beside Tamara and picked up the necklace, holding it up to
catch the light. “Just so you know, I heard Alphonso Santos say that the sapphires
matched his wife Liz’s eyes,” she said, her dark eyebrows lifting. One finger trailed
down the lined sheet. “Hmmm. It looks like he’s interested in this neck- lace, too.”

“Oh?” Tamara picked up the sheet and scanned the names, finding the generous Santos’
bid immediately. She quickly scribbled Franklin’s name on the sheet again and, alongside
it, a new, higher bid.

Across the room, Franklin Danvers stood at the bar, watching his wife as one would
admire a fine painting. Tamara’s husband wasn’t a tall man, but his solid stance,
strong, handsome features, and intense gaze granted him a power lacking in other,
larger men.

Several Cape Ann businessmen approached him and he turned away, moving easily into
a weighty discussion of some sort, seemingly impervious to the party atmosphere spinning
around them.

Tamara looked at the bid sheet once more, gave the necklace a proprietary pat, and
moved on down the jewelry table, dutifully scribbling generous bids on additional
item sheets.

Once she was out of earshot, Nell looked at Willow. “You’re devious—you know that,
young lady? You intentionally got her to add several numbers to that bid.”

Willow chuckled as she checked Tamara’s latest bid. “I am devious, aren’t I? And so
good at it.” She wrinkled her nose at Nell—her second mother, as she called her—and
moved along to another table, checking items and encouraging bidders along the way.

“Tamara deserves that necklace, showy as it may be. Life with Franklin Danvers can’t
be all fun and games,” Cass said. “And he has two ex-wives to prove it.”

Izzy agreed. “He seems kind of . . . well, sedate, I guess you’d say. Nothing like
his wife.”

“Pete says she’s a party girl,” Cass said.