Deadly Southern Charm - Page 3

“Do you know this man?” Officer Willoughby handed her a photo.

“Stu Johnson,” Viv said. “The owner of the shop and my boss.”

“We regret to inform you he’s dead.”

Aunt Libby gasped and placed her hands over her mouth. Viv’s heart thudded against her chest. “What happened?” she asked, tears of shock pricking at her eyes. She reached for a tissue, embarrassed by her tears.

“We’re not sure. We’re hoping you can tell us about yesterday at the shop. You were working, correct?”

Viv nodded and blew her nose, composing herself. “He left to get us some veggie burgers for lunch and never came back. I wondered what happened to him.”

“When you closed the shop, was anything out of place or missing?” Officer Willoughby asked.

“No, nothing.”

“Sometime between 5 and midnight, when we found Mr. Johnson, Queen Victoria’s jewelry disappeared from the shop.”

“What?”

“If what you’re saying is correct, the place was robbed after you left. Either that or you took the set,” Officer Willoughby said.

Viv’s heart raced.

“My niece is not a thief,” Libby said, before she could respond herself. “And she’s very bright. Would she steal a priceless item like that on her first day of work? Really!”

“I’m sorry to offend. You understand it’s procedure. Just doing my job, Ms. Barton,” Willoughby said.

“The jewels are gone?” Viv said. “We’ve got to find them. They belong to a museum in London. Stu jumped through hoops to bring them here. How did he die?”

“We’re not sure. His body is with the medical examiner. It appears there was a struggle. Did you witness any arguments at the shop?” Willoughby asked.

“Yes, in fact there was one minor incident.” Viv relayed what had happened with the jewelry maker.

“Did you catch this man’s name?”

“No, I’m sorry. But it should all be on the security tape.”

The officers gave one another meaningful glances. “Tell us everything that happened from the minute you walked into the shop yesterday.”

After the police left, Viv climbed back in bed. Twenty-four hours ago, she couldn’t sleep because she was so excited about her new job. Now, she was having a hard time sleeping because her boss was dead. And she was jobless.

Her cell phone woke her early.

“It’s Abby. Have you heard?” She was sobbing. “Stu is dead!”

Viv struggled to find the right words. “The police told me in the middle of the night. It’s awful. I’m so sorry, Abby.”

“Can you come over?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Abby’s blue eyes were tiny slits in red puffiness. “We need to figure out what happened to him!” she cried when she saw Viv.

“The police are working on that. They’re doing some tests to see what killed him.”

Her wailing stopped for a moment and her chest heaved with a shuddering gasp. “He was kind of an oddball, but he was a good guy. I can’t think of any reason someone would hurt him—unless it was a woman he’d rejected!”

“That’s crazy talk. He may have walked in on a thief stealing the jewels.”

Abby paced back and forth in her small studio apartment. “That would only make sense if he was shot or stabbed, right? The police said that he wasn’t.”

“Did he keel over and die? Maybe he had a heart attack. Please sit down, Abby. You’re making me a nervous wreck.”

“I’ve been telling him for months he needed a better security system… Proper cameras…” she said sitting on the edge of the couch, rubbing her hands on her jeans.

“Wait. He had cameras. I saw them.”

“They’re always broken,” she said, her voice trailing off.

“I can’t imagine a British museum would lend those jewels to a place that didn’t have top-quality security. Maybe he’d gotten those cameras fixed.”

“Victoria Town is one of the safest towns in the state. Perhaps in the country. The town hasn’t had a major crime in years. Plus he played up the town name angle and the historical links. Good PR for both of them.”

Viv didn’t buy that. No one lent Queen Victoria’s jewelry to an establishment with shoddy security. “Maybe he wasn’t killed. Maybe he discovered the jewels were gone and had a heart attack. I know he was relatively young, but young people do have heart attacks.”

An odd expression passed over Abby’s face. “He was complaining of low energy.” Her tone hinted at more to the story. So Viv sat in the quiet, knowing that Abby, who liked to fill quiet spaces with babble, would say more. “Oh my God!” Abby’s hands went to her face. “We gave him a little concoction from the pharmacy! It wasn’t anything too strong, but could that be it? Did I help kill my boyfriend?” Her hands trembled.

Viv ushered her to the couch. “Now, Abby, calm down. Just lie here a moment.” She concentrated on keeping her voice as comforting as could be. But what exactly had she given him? Surely Abby was being paranoid.

Viv’s cell phone buzzed—Aunt Libby. She picked up. “The police want to speak with you again. You’

re the last person who saw Stu alive.”

Viv’s brain kicked into gear. “Do they think I killed him?”

Abby sat up, mouth agape, eyes wide.

“I don’t know, dear.”

The police considered her a suspect? It was so ridiculous that it would be laughable if the matter were not so serious. Her heart thudded against her rib cage.

“Come home. They’re here waiting on you,” Aunt Libby said.

“But I’m with Abby and she’s upset.”

“Bring her along, then.”

“You didn’t kill him,” Abby said as they walked along the edge of the cemetery fence. “So you have nothing to worry about.”

“You didn’t kill him either.”

“I hope not.”

Aunt Libby greeted them with a pot of hot cocoa and cookies. They went into the parlor where the police officers waited.

“We have a few more questions for you, Ms. Barton.”

“Okay,” Viv said, blowing on her cocoa to steady her nerves.

“Did you see anything odd yesterday in the shop?”

“You asked me that before, and I told you no. The day progressed in what I thought was a normal way. I was trained on the register, cleaned display cases, and waited on a few customers. Oh! Then Stu brought tea and chocolate scones from the back.”

“You didn’t mention that earlier.”

“It was in the middle of the night. I was half asleep. I’m sorry.”

Willoughby cleared his throat. “Did you drink the tea and eat the scone?”

“I never touch hot tea. Hate the stuff. But I ate the scone.” Viv wondered where this was going.

“How did he take his tea?”

“With cream and sugar. He kept the sugar in a beautiful little vial.”

The officers stood abruptly.

“Thank you. We’ll be in touch. Please don’t leave the area.”

“This is where I live,” Viv said. “Why would I leave?”

They left without answering. The three women sat silently for a while in the lavender room, the scent of hot cocoa mingling with potpourri and sunlight streaming through the lace curtain creating patterns on the wood floor.

“They must want to question you again,” Aunt Libby said. “I hope this all works out soon. I’m expecting a full house this week. What will the guests think?”

Tags: Mary Burton Mystery
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