The Seattle Cipher, page 13
They found it near what used to be the cafeteria—narrow wooden stairs going down into darkness that smelled like mildew.
“Oh, this is just great,” Patricia said and sighed, clicking on her flashlight. “Another creepy basement. Just what my life was missing.”
But down in that musty basement, Patricia’s flashlight beam hit an old radiator sitting in the corner, and there they were—the numbers 3, 9, and 7 engraved right into the cast iron.
“Well, I’ll be,” Rachel whispered.
Behind the radiator, the dirt looked like someone had been digging. Patricia got down on her knees, not caring about her dress, and started brushing away loose soil.
“There,” she said, her heart jumping. “Look.”
Wrapped in an old cloth was a small wooden box. Patricia opened it with shaky hands, and there it was—a diamond the size of a robin’s egg, sparkling even in the dim basement light.
“The Sparkling Dream,” Rachel breathed, tears falling. “It’s real. It’s actually real.”
Patricia placed the box in Rachel’s hands. “Eva wanted you to have this, honey. Your daddy protected it all those years, and now it’s finally where it belongs.”
Rachel held the diamond up to the light coming down from the basement windows. “You know what? I think the curse wasn’t in the diamond itself. I think the curse was in all the greed and killing it caused.”
“So what are you going to do with it?” Levi asked.
Rachel smiled—the first actual smile any of them had seen from her since this whole mess started. “Eva said it was stolen from a family in Norway. I think it’s time for the Sparkling Dream to go home where it belongs.”
Three weeks later, after the press and the police lost interest in Stephen Stewart, the whole mess got cleaned up pretty fast, as these things go. Henry Green got himself arrested for conspiracy and fraud and a whole bunch of other charges Patricia didn’t pretend to understand. Roger Cameron was so shaken up by everything that he sold the theater to the city. They’re going to fix it up as a community arts center, which seems fitting somehow. Greg Morton, that grumpy security guard, gave his statement to the police and high-tailed it back to Boise. Good riddance, Patricia thought.
The saddest part was Eva’s funeral. Patricia drove back for it, representing the connection Eva had made with Rachel’s family. There was a small service at the art community where Eva lived, full of painters and sculptors who talked about what a gentle soul she’d been. Patricia kept thinking about how Eva just wanted to make things right before she died.
“The Norwegian family is sending a reward for returning the diamond,” Rachel had told Patricia over the phone. “I’m giving it all to Eva’s art community. She would have liked that.”
Levi and Rachel drove to Patricia’s hotel on a gloomy afternoon that was once again pregnant with rain. “All packed?” Rachel asked, watching Patricia close a green suitcase.
“All set,” Patricia replied and smiled, feeling a little subdued in the blue and gray dress she had worn for the day. But so what? She was alive, Rachel was alive, and Levi was alive. That’s what counted. “I’m all set to drive back to Georgia.”
“Drive?” Levi asked in a confused voice.
“I need to clear my mind. The drive will be nice,” Patricia explained and then smiled at the gray suit Levi was wearing. “You’re cute, Levi, but try a t-shirt sometime.” Patricia looked at Rachel. Rachel was wearing a simple dark brown dress that wasn’t very festive. “Are you going to be okay?”
“The diamond money will go to Eva’s art community,” Rachel explained. “The Norwegian family I contacted was so grateful to have their heirloom returned, they insisted on paying a finder’s fee. It seems fitting that Eva’s final gift should support other artists.
“And I’m having the school torn down,” Rachel explained. “I found out that a corrupt administrator was using Northern Lights Academy for illegal purposes years ago. That’s why it was eventually closed.” Rachel walked to the room window and looked out at the Space Needle. “I would like to think the school still has hope, but I don’t.”
Patricia walked over to Rachel and hugged the woman’s shoulders. “What are your plans after the school is torn down?”
“Travel,” Rachel told Patricia. “I need to get out of Seattle for a while and digest all the new truths that were revealed to me.” Rachel turned to look at Patricia. “Patricia, I’m nearly fifty and my entire life—everything I knew to be true—has been turned upside down. I’m going to need time.”
“I know you are, honey.” Patricia hugged Rachel with loving arms. “Levi, what are your plans?”
“Go back to the theater and continue my work, continue playing the piano, go back to dreaming about love,” Levi explained. “Life will go on, Patricia.”
“Yes, life will go on,” Patricia agreed in a hopeful voice. She grabbed her suitcase and smiled. “Okay, guys, off I go. Who wants to walk me down?”
Levi and Rachel both hugged Patricia and then saw their friend off. After Patricia drove away in the cozy SUV she had rented, Rachel said goodbye to Levi, climbed into her own SUV, and vanished into a hard drizzle. Levi sighed and began walking back to the theater on slow legs. As he did, a lovely woman accidentally bumped into him. “Oh, I’m sorry—”
“No, it was my fault.” Fiona Mitchell, a woman who carried an understated beauty that was neither breathtaking nor plain, looked into Levi’s eyes. “Hey, don’t I know you?” she asked in a curious voice. “Sure I do. We went to school together. Your name is Levi, right?”
Levi stared at Fiona and then exclaimed: “Fiona Mitchell! Yes, you sat in front of me in Mr. Taylor’s class!” Fiona laughed and began chatting away with Levi—and Levi, the hopeless romantic, finally found a true work of art worth falling in love with.
As Patricia drove through the rolling hills of eastern Washington, her cell phone kept buzzing with texts. First one from Levi: “Theater sold to city. Community arts center now. Roger says thanks for everything. P.S. - Having dinner with Fiona tonight!”
Well, good for you, Levi, Patricia thought, smiling. Sometimes the best treasures aren’t the ones you set out looking for.
Another text popped up, this one from Rachel: “Diamond back in Norway. Family so grateful they cried. Eva would be happy. Off to Italy tomorrow. Time to figure out who I really am. Will send postcards.”
Patricia had called Edna earlier to give her the final details for the magazine article. “A treasure hunt, international intrigue, justice served!” Edna had practically squealed into the phone. “This is perfect! And next month, I found this fascinating case in Savannah with a haunted—”
“Absolutely not,” Patricia had interrupted. “I’m taking a vacation. A real vacation. No museums, no art galleries, and definitely no mysterious numbers hidden anywhere.”
“But Patricia, think of the—”
“No, Edna. I’m going home to milk Bessie, work in my garden, and have quiet dinners with Brian. The art world can manage just fine without me for a while.”
Boy, could it ever. Patricia was done with art for a good long time. Give her a nice murder in a small town any day over dusty old museums and crazy killers obsessed with diamonds.
Patricia was unaware that Levi had met his future wife. She simply worked her way out of Seattle and began driving down a beautiful country road, avoiding the major roads. Once Seattle was behind her, she called Brian and placed her cell phone on speaker.
“I saw the news. You should stay home,” Brian answered the call in a grumpy voice.
“I could stay home, but that would make you happy.”
“I’m not kidding, Patricia,” Brian fussed. “You could have been killed. I swear, you’re cursed. Everywhere you go, murder follows. Good grief, it’s like you’re a magnet for every killer in this world.”
Patricia refused to get mad. “Brian, shut up and listen to me,” she ordered. “When I get home, you and I are going to have a nice candlelit dinner and then go for a cozy walk. We’re going to spend as much time together as we can before my crazy boss sends me on a new assignment. After that, we’ll see what life has in store. Deal?”
Brian was standing inside Patricia’s farm barn holding a shovel in his left hand. “I’m giving your milk cow fresh hay.”
“Good,” Patricia said and smiled. “My milk cow likes you.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “Why am I in love with you? You drive me crazy, do you realize that?”
“You drive me crazy, too,” Patricia promised, feeling her heart relax a little even though her mind was still back in Seattle. What seemed like a fun case involving some strange numbers had led to some awful truths and, once again, murder. Whoever claimed that art is beautiful needs to be punched in the nose. Art is not beautiful—not the kind of art I just witnessed. No more art for me for a very long time.
“Patricia, are you there?”
“Oh, sure, Brian, I’m here,” Patricia replied, shook her head, and then used her left hand to feel the wound on her head. I could have died, but here I sit, driving back home. Who knows what the future holds? All I can do is keep taking one day at a time and do what my granddaddy told me to do: don’t be afraid to turn out the bedroom light. “So, Brian, I was thinking that when I get home, we can also drive to Mountain Peak Lake and grill us some hamburgers. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good,” Brian said and sighed, caving in. “You’re a strange woman, Patricia McKay, but I love you. I will always love you.”
“I love you, too, jerk,” Patricia promised Brian and then began talking all about her current case. “So, this is how the case of ‘Dangerous Art’ worked out, Brian.” Brian listened to Patricia talk away, realizing that the woman he was someday going to marry was never going to let his nerves relax.
As Patricia talked away to Brian, Edna, Patricia’s crazy boss, walked into her office carrying a diet soda. A strange man was sitting behind her desk. “Hey, who are you?” Edna demanded, slamming her office door closed.
The strange man simply stood up, aimed a gun at Edna, and fired. Edna let out a loud scream. The man laughed as a flag exited the barrel of his gun.
“Hey, sis!” Edna’s brother exclaimed. Edna didn’t answer her brother. Instead, she fainted and learned a very valuable lesson: murder was no fun—no fun at all. Sadly, even though Edna learned a valuable lesson, when she came to—and after nearly killing her brother for scaring her half to death—she began planning Patricia’s next assignment. After all, Edna did have a new murder magazine to run, and Patricia was her star writer.
Also by Wendy Meadows
Alaska Cozy Mystery Series
Maple Hills Cozy Series
Sweet Shop Cozy Series
Twin Berry Bakery Series
Travel Writer Cozy Mystery Series
Snow Falls, Alaska Cozy Mystery Series
About Wendy Meadows
Wendy Meadows, a USA Today bestselling author, delights readers with her engaging stories about women sleuths. She has penned numerous books, including the beloved Sweetfern Harbor, Sweet Peach Bakery, and Alaska Cozy series. Wendy calls New Hampshire home, where she lives with her husband, two sons, two mini pigs who have big personalities, and an adorable Labradoodle who rules the roost.
Visit her website at www.wendymeadows.com for latest releases, discounts and more!
Wendy Meadows, The Seattle Cipher
