“What’s not there?”
“When I cleaned the Worths’ suite on Friday, Venus was wearing a pink collar, with what I swore were real diamonds. I wonder if the killer took it?”
“Have a seat,” Betty said, as she moved toward the kitchenette.
Liz sat on the sofa. A few minutes later, Betty brought over a silver tray laden with a teapot and all the accoutrements, including a few of Pierre’s orange scones. Liz filled Betty in on everything that had happened since she’d seen her the previous night.
“Are you sure Captain Netherton didn’t have his cane, or a limp? Everything was so crazy last night, I didn’t notice.”
“I’m sure. I mean, I’m pretty sure.” She looked into Betty’s pale gray eyes. Maybe Liz had been mistaken?
“Well, we have three things to go on: One, Agent Pearson thinks someone related to the Indialantic is our culprit.”
“Yeah. She suspects me.”
“Nonsense. Two, we need to research the return address on those birthday cards from Iris’s mother, and find out where she keeps disappearing to.”
“And three,” Liz said, “we need to go down to the lobby and fish out the note that was attached to the stone that someone threw at the Worths’ car.”
They both shot up and headed to the door. Betty peeked out to make sure the coast was clear, and Liz followed her to the center of the hallway, to the railing that overlooked the lobby. Betty peered over, waved Liz on, and they crept down the stairs.
There were two trash cans in the lobby, one by the doors leading outside and one behind the registration desk. A safe bet would be the trash can by the doors. Liz moved toward it. Betty zipped ahead and beat her there. Betty took off the top of the trash can and stuck her arm and head inside. “Voilà! I think I see it. But we need to preserve any fingerprints.” Spoken in true Nancy Drew style.
Liz stepped behind the desk, grabbed a box of tissues and a manila envelope, and brought them over to Betty. Betty plucked out a tissue from the box, making sure her hand only touched one side, then reached into the can and grabbed a crumpled piece of paper, while Liz held open the envelope.
Betty dropped the paper inside, then said, “Let’s go to the kitchen and get some gloves. We need to photograph the note before we turn it over to the police. Do you have your phone?”
Liz answered. “It’s in the butler’s pantry, in my handbag.”
“Good.”
They walked through the dining room and into the empty kitchen. Betty laid the envelope on the wood farm table. Liz went to the pantry and retrieved her phone and a pair of gloves from the box Pierre used when preparing meals using hot peppers.
Back at the table, Liz put on the gloves and reached in the envelope. She laid the note on a clean section of paper toweling, then carefully smoothed it out. In handwritten blue ink, it read: Abandon your plans or else. This is your last warning.
“Quick, take a picture.”
Betty picked up Liz’s phone and took a burst shot of the note. The camera on the phone click, click, clicked away.
She put the note back in the envelope and said to Betty, “I’m not giving it to Agent Pearson. You can.”
“Not giving what, Ms. Holt?”
Oops.
Agent Pearson walked in, holding a teacup and saucer.
Betty said, “We were about to give you the note that had been tied to the rock thrown at the Worths’ windshield. I fished it out of the trash and made sure not to leave any prints. You might want to check outside the lobby door for the rock.”
“Thanks for saving that task for the professionals. You need to keep out of my investigation.” She directed her stare at Liz, not Betty.
Betty grabbed Liz’s elbow. “Come on, dear, let’s go find your auntie. I’m sure the nice detective will thank us later.” Betty handed the envelope over to Agent Pearson, who stood with her mouth open. Liz admitted, Betty made a pretty impressive figure for an eighty-three-year-old. She wouldn’t want to be on Betty’s bad side, and luckily she never had been in the past.
They left the detective in the kitchen, then went through the doorway leading to the hallway with the service elevator. As they passed the ice machine, Liz told Betty how the night before, there had been water on the floor near the ice machine. “I don’t know if it means anything? But it might prove what David said about getting ice for his wife’s knee.”
As they entered the elevator, Betty said, “We need to write everything down and pretend this is the outline for your next book. I know how much you love to research. I’m going to give you a few projects that will get the ball rolling. Like your Agent Pearson, I have a feeling that whoever killed Regina might be right under our noses.”
“She’s not my agent Pearson, she’s Dad’s.”
Betty gave her a knowing look. Was it that obvious that Liz was concerned about how the detective’s relationship with her father might alter their father-daughter bond?
Liz said, “But we were all together last night when the murder took place…”
“Exactly. But who wasn’t with us?”
“Iris Kimball, Captain Netherton, Minna Presley, Francie Jenkins, Brittany Poole, and Edward and Nick Goren. However, it might just be a random incident.”
“Indeed, it might,” Betty said. “But it can’t hurt to find out a little more. You’ve already got a good lead on Iris. Follow it through, and I’ll do what I can on my iPad.”
Liz and Betty performed the secret handshake they’d used since Liz was eight, which included complicated hand movements and real spit. For a moment, Liz was back in time, then the adult Liz surfaced and she realized this wasn’t a game. She planned to protect those she loved, and if that meant putting her own self in danger, she would do it.
Chapter 23
“Road trip! Yay!” cried Kate. “I
