The Jewelry Case (30 page)

Bemused, Paisley took in the boy's black hair, dark eyebrows. She was still processing the fact that her talented young neighbor was Jonathan's
…
just what
was
the word for their relationship, anyway? Jonathan's first cousin once removed?

On the heels of her astonishment came another disturbing thought. Steve Lopez had been married at one point to Kevin's mother, Sarah Perleman. That made him a distant relative of Jonathan's. Why had he never mentioned the connection?

On the other hand, she told herself, why
should
Steve have mentioned it? Maybe he wasn't the type who offered up personal information easily. Or, maybe Steve assumed she already knew. Certainly everyone else in town must be aware of his former relationship by marriage to the Perlemans. Even Shirley. Even Ian. Why hadn't
they
said anything? In the one instance that mattered most, the famous grapevine had broken down.

Kevin shifted uncomfortably, and she realized he had been waiting for her to speak.

"I still don't get it," Paisley said, wrinkling her forehead. "If your grandmother thought the jewels should have been your inheritance, why not come forward and state your claim? Why all this cloak and daggers stuff?"

"How would it help? No one knew where the jewels were. No one even really believed they existed."

"Your grandmother did. And she went to great lengths to find them, even up to burglary. Why?"

A shadow of pain darkened Kevin's eyes. "It was her last hope to provide for me, that’s all. Grandma was Dad’s—my real dad’s—mom. After he died and Mom and Steve got divorced, she took us in. Then, when Mom got sick ...." His voice faltered and he looked down for a moment, struggling to gather his emotions. Then he raised his jaw, and met Paisley's eyes straight-on. "Mom told Grandma about the jewels, and that they might be hidden on the property. Grandma thought that was Mom's way of trying to provide for us after she was gone. That's why she sold the New Jersey house and arranged for me to live with Steve."

"Why didn't you move out here together?"

"She was getting older, and was planning to go to a retirement home anyway. So she picked one out here. That was soon after that other old lady died," Kevin added. "The one who used to live in this house."

"So Esther had passed away before you moved to River Bend?"

He nodded. "It was easy to break in. I looked all over for the jewels, but I didn't find anything. We gave up. Then, when you showed up...." His voice trailed away.

"Your grandma thought I might know something she didn't?

Kevin ducked his head again. His fingers crumpled the edges of the sheet music. "I never felt right about it. Breaking into the house, I mean. But Nana said no one would be hurt. She told me, 'They should be yours anyway.'" His voice subtly took on the tone of an older female, and Paisley thought with admiration,
Holy Moley! The boy really is a born actor.

"That explains the broken window," Paisley nodded. "But why didn't you just come forward, Kevin? You
are
the last blood descendent of the Perlemans."

He shrugged. "Nana said we had to find the jewels before you did, because if we had to fight you in court, the lawyers would end up with everything.

Except Paisley wouldn't have fought Kevin's claim; but there was no way they could have known that.

"Have a seat, Kevin," she said waving at the couch. "We have a lot to talk about."

She went into the kitchen to prepare some hot cocoa, throwing marshmallows on top and thinking wryly that she needed the sugar kick more than he did. When she returned with two thick ceramic mugs, he accepted one gratefully and sipped.

"Why did you go through the house again?" she asked, taking the chair across from him. "After all, you'd already been through it once."

He swirled the mug, watching the marshmallows melt. There was a smudge of chocolate on his upper lip. "When nothing turned up, I thought my grandmother was wrong. Or that the jewels were hidden some place we'd never find them, like buried in a field somewhere."

Paisley remembered Shirley's stories of neighborhood kids digging around the yard with spades until giving up and going home.

"But when you came to River Bend," Kevin went on, "Nana said that
proved
they must be here. After all, why else would a famous opera star like you
….
"

"I'm not famous," Paisley muttered under her breath. Despite that thrilling moment when her voice had come back while singing
Carmen
while descending the stairs, she knew she probably never would be.

"…Come to a small town like this? Nana figured you knew something we didn't, so I should keep an eye on you until you led us to it. I went through the house again to see if you might have left some clues. It was hard to get in, though; there were always workmen around, until I lucked out one day and found the house empty." He hunched his shoulders. "Back then, I didn't know you."

"Let me guess," Paisley said, remembering the hawk-faced woman in the wheelchair. "Your grandmother said I was a greedy stranger, and I'd come to steal your inheritance."

He smiled faintly, hands still wrapped around the mug. "Something like that. Nana is kind of ... ah ... um...."

"Strong-willed?" suggested Paisley. "A bully?"

His smile curved crookedly, making him seem even younger. "The kind of person it's hard to say no to."

Paisley thought of the old woman in her wheelchair, glowering like Norman Bates' mummified mother. "Another Aunt Henka," she muttered under her breath. Strong-willed and manipulative, pulling everyone's strings behind the scenes. At least her motives had not been selfish.

Kevin looked down at his cocoa again, and his mouth twisted. "The day you asked me to be in the play, I told her I wouldn't help her anymore. We had a big fight. That's why I was late to rehearsal that afternoon." He looked up again, his features earnest. "Maybe you'll understand better if I explain that Nana is my only family. She and Mom were all I had."

Paisley felt a need to comfort him. "You're not entirely alone, Kevin. There's always Steve...." she began.

"Steve doesn't count." Kevin's voice turned harsh. "All he cares about is his stupid vineyard."

Paisley fell silent. She understood Kevin's divided loyalty. The old woman's id
é
e-fixe
was perhaps not entirely unreasonable; a protective grandmother might easily feel angry that her grandson had been unfairly passed over, and resolve not to allow the family heirlooms to pass to an outsider. Of course, Maude Avery had gone too far, stepping over a line most people would not have crossed. But luckily, Paisley thought, no one had been harmed. Much could be forgiven, considering the woman's advanced age and poor health, and the fact that Maude's actions had been on behalf of a beloved grandson.

Not to mention that Paisley had never felt she had much of a claim on the inheritance. After all, she had entirely forgotten about the house and its legendary contents until Jonathan had died. If Kevin's grandmother had written a letter explaining the situation, Paisley likely would have willingly signed the whole thing over to him, without thinking about it twice.

Studying Kevin's tormented face, she tried to imagine the inner turmoil he had undergone.

She told him so, gently. "Your grandmother is wrong. I have no proof that the jewels are here, or that they've ever been here. There's nothing of value to fight over."

Although there was, in fact, the
….

"Good heavens," she said, unconsciously using an old-fashioned exclamation that Esther might have used herself. "The house!"

"The house?"

"This house. It's part of the inheritance. It should have gone to you."

Kevin looked startled. Then, following her reasoning, he shook his head. "I don't know if Grandma even thought of that. She only talked about the jewels."

"Well it's something we need to discuss." Paisley set her cup on the coffee table decisively, and the cocoa sloshed up to the rim. "Unlike the jewelry, which is likely missing forever, the house is worth something. If Esther had known about your mother's situation, I'm sure she'd have left it to her, rather than to me." She stood up abruptly, brushing her palms on the thighs of her jeans. "I need to talk to Maude."

His face drained of color, leaving it the color of a bleached rag. "Now?"

"Why not? I've got a couple of hours before rehearsal. Don't worry," she added, seeing the expression on his face. "You don't have to come. I can handle this myself." She patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Your grandmother and I are adults. Maybe we can come to some sort of agreement. For heaven's sake, she's just an old lady, Kevin. I'm not scared of her."

He muttered something under his breath. She thought he had said, "Maybe you should be." Then he looked up with an air of resignation. "She can't talk much since her stroke last month. But if you want to see her, go ahead. Good luck."

Paisley thought she would probably need it.

Chapter Fourteen

The white-uniformed male attendant led Paisley to an empty room furnished with a scuffed, white baby grand piano and a pair of upholstered chairs apparently reserved for visitors. She leafed, bored, through an issue of AARP magazine she found on an end table, reading about pensions and annuities until the man returned, pushing Maude Avery in her wheelchair.

Paisley was unprepared for the malevolence in the glare from the woman's shriveled face. Maude would apparently stop at nothing to gain what she thought was her grandson's due.

"Mrs. Avery?" she said, standing and holding out a hand. "How nice to meet you."

As the talon-like fingers closed around hers, Paisley found herself transfixed by their unexpected strength, by the steady, alert, intense gaze of those faded, ice-blue eyes.

"I wonder if I might have a word alone," Paisley said, glancing questioningly at the attendant.

"You two ladies let me know when you're finished." He stepped outside the glass-paneled door and it swung closed, cutting off the sounds from the lobby.

Stay positive. Stay positive
, Paisley told herself, although Maude's steely gaze was unnerving.

"Your grandson is a special young man," she said, wincing inwardly at the trite words. "He's an amazingly talented singer, you know."

The other woman was silent, although the light-blue eyes widened a little in their crepey folds.

Taking a deep breath, Paisley went on. "It's partly to your credit that Kevin turned out so well. He obviously cares for you very much, Mrs. Avery. He'd do anything for you."
Even burglarize a neighbor’s house
.

The woman remained still, and Paisley plunged into what she had come to say. "I'm sorry Kevin was left out of Esther's will, Mrs. Avery, but the fact is, she never knew he existed. I myself just learned Kevin is my husband’s only living blood kin. This may surprise you, but that fact means a great deal to me."

Maude's sparse eyebrows lifted slightly. She was listening after all. "I knew it." The dry, whispery words were difficult to hear. "I told Kevin that you'd lead us to them."

"You're wrong,” Paisley said. “The truth is, I know nothing about the jewels at all. Less, probably, than you do. So I'm afraid your efforts were a waste of time, and very nearly got your grandson arrested."

Maude's faded cheeks grew pinker, whether with anger or embarrassment, Paisley didn't know.

Impulsively, she took the old woman's hand. To her relief, Maude did not pull it away. "I want to be friends, Mrs. Avery. I pledge to help Kevin in any way I can: as a mentor, coach, aunt, and friend. All I want is your blessing."

The woman remained silent, but her eyes seemed to hold a new expression: respect.

Paisley knew that would have to suffice. At least the woman was no longer an enemy.

Feeling that she had given her best effort, she nodded to Maude, slipped past the returning attendant, and took her leave.

The interview had not been as successful as she'd hoped, but neither had it been a complete waste of time. She had forged a fragile truce. At least, she thought, driving down the hill, she wouldn't be facing any more burglaries. Not from that quarter, at any rate.

#

When Paisley got home, she put out a new dish of food for the cat on the porch step, made herself an egg-salad sandwich with lettuce and sweet pickles on whole-wheat bread, and ate while perusing the latest
People
magazine, which she had picked up in town.

Later, in bed, she yawned, looked at the clock, and saw that it was past midnight. Despite her exhaustion, she could not fall asleep. Too many images were running through her head: Maude Avery's ravaged features, Kevin's guilty expression, the charged encounter with Ian at the bottom of the stairs....