Fading Starlight Part 10

"Look at you, Aunt Charlotte, trying something new for a change."

Charlotte glanced over at her niece. "You make it sound like I always eat the same thing when we come here. That's not true. Last time I had the spinach salad with grilled lamb sausage, and the time before that it was the farmers' market salad." She looked at the half papaya with Dungeness crab and curry sauce that currently graced her plate. "What would make you say that?"

"I suppose you do eat different dishes, but you always insist on lunching at the exact same place every time we come to The Village. You need to expand your horizons a little." Willow tossed back the remainder of her chardonnay and held up the empty wine gla.s.s toward the waitress.

Charlotte looked away and offered no further explanation. She would not tell her niece that, while the food here was excellent, the food was not what kept bringing her back.

It was her father.

When he had first purchased the land on the far side of Santa Barbara, they would journey up here every few weeks to check on the progress as the house was being built. They always stayed at "Charlie Chaplin's place," as her father called the Montecito Inn, because Mr. Chaplin and some investors had built it. The rooms were beautifully appointed and looked right over Montecito Village. It was also a perfect stopping place for the trendy crowd as they made their way from Hollywood up the coast to William Randolph Hearst's palatial estate in San Simeon.

Smart and interesting people were always staying at the inn, and when Charlotte was with her father, they all treated her as though they thought she was just as wonderful as they. Sometimes, when the party would move the hundred miles north to Mr. Hearst's, Charlotte and her father would go along. Charlotte lived for those times.

The people at the castle were so gay all the time. There was never a dull moment, never a frowning face. What fun they had, sitting in the great hall at the table that held dozens and dozens of people, with bottles of ketchup and mustard placed every few feet up and down the table. The East Coasters always made fun of this, but Charlotte liked it. She vowed that someday when she was a big, rich star, the people at her table were going to have ketchup straight from the bottle, too.

She could still remember sitting out by the pool one day, wearing the same white silk dress with little blue flowers that she wore this very day, when Gloria Vanderbilt had walked over and declared her outfit "divine." Charlotte had thought she might actually melt with happiness.

Sixty-three years later, she could only sit here in the Montecito Cafe in the same old dress and relive the same old memories. It was the closest she ever came to feeling like she was touching her father. She cherished these memories so. They were all she had left.

Lauren had enough work to keep her busy late into the day and did not have the time to do any gardening. But on Friday morning, she decided that she couldn't hold back any longer. She was going to plant that sage in front of Miss Montgomery's house. Now that she had permission, it was just too tempting to ignore.

She made her way to the potting shed and walked to the back counter, where there was indeed some purple sage lined up and waiting for her. Since the soil at the fence line had been recently turned and fertilized, she supposed she wouldn't need to add anything to it, so she left those bags alone. She picked up a trowel and a hand cultivator from the end of the shelf. Just then, the glint of something caught her eye. She did a double take.

There, lying on the floor against the back wall, doubled over on itself, was the necklace. Lauren picked it up and turned it over in her hands. It was surprisingly heavy. The sapphires were huge and round, each surrounded by diamonds that were by no means small. There were eight sapphires, each as big around as a quarter. She could only imagine what something like this was worth. Sentimental value or not, it was no wonder Miss Montgomery was so desperate to find it.

She carried it around to the front door and rang the bell. The chimes sounded from somewhere inside, but there was no resulting movement.

Lauren glanced down at the necklace again. Never in her life had she dreamed of holding something so amazing. What was she supposed to do with it until Miss Montgomery returned home? She didn't want to put it back in the potting shed, it was too damp in there. Leaving it on the front porch was not a good option, in spite of the rural location. The only thing that made sense was to take it to the cottage.

She walked across the way, looking down the lane, hoping to see Miss Montgomery returning. She was going to be so happy to have this back. But the only movement came from the seagulls overhead. Lauren went inside and set the necklace on her kitchen table.

No, she couldn't leave it there, it felt too exposed. In spite of the fact that she was the only one who came in here now that all the repair work had s.h.i.+fted to the outside, and though the workmen all seemed completely trustworthy, she still felt the urge to get the necklace out of sight. She settled on her sock drawer, where she gently placed it, then covered it completely before returning outside to finish her work with the sage.

Lauren spent a couple of happy hours planting around Miss Montgomery's place. When she was finished, and still no one was home, she cleaned up her tools and made her way back to the cottage.

Once inside, she checked the necklace to be certain all was well, then took a shower and went back to work on the costumes. She was starting to piece together the wedding dress and was loving the process. It reinforced her dream of making beautiful gowns of her own design someday.

Kendall would love to know all about the necklace in her sock drawer, there was no doubt about that. But in this particular case, it didn't feel right to share the information with her. She had, after all, picked this up on Miss Montgomery's property. Still, Lauren stopped what she was doing, walked to the drawer, and picked up the necklace. In the brighter light of her cottage, it sparkled from every angle. It was amazing in every respect. She turned it over and noticed an engraving on the clasp. To the one who owns my heart. REB.

REB? Lauren thought about the many possible combinations of names with those initials, but one name stuck out in her mind. Randall Edgar Blake. The man who had been murdered. Had Miss Montgomery been having an affair with Blake and then killed him in a jealous rage?

Maybe Kendall's theories were not that farfetched, after all. Maybe she was indeed on the trail of a cold-blooded killer. Maybe it would be okay to share what she knew with Kendall. Maybe it would help bring justice.

Lauren pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down the words. To the one who owns my heart. REB. Then she photographed the necklace front and back. She wasn't going to send the photos to Kendall, but she was definitely going to give it a little consideration. Maybe revealing this information was truly the correct thing to do. Again she found herself pondering that same verse: Be careful not to make a treaty with those who live in the land where you are going, or they will be a snare among you.

twenty.

Lauren decided she would hand bead the bodice of the wedding dress with faux pearls. Not a full-blown couture embroidery job, but something special. At Deb Couture she had worked on a couple of dresses with genuine pearls sewn in. Well, this was going to be just as fabulous, and she doubted there would be any jewelers in the audience who would notice the difference. The point was to look beautiful, not be the most expensive. She st.i.tched together the pieces of the bodice. On Monday she would take it by the theater for a fitting with Priscilla and make any changes necessary before the final seams and beading.

It was after dinner when she noticed headlights coming down the road. She stood up to stretch and watched the taillights disappear down Miss Montgomery's driveway. She went immediately to the drawer and took out the necklace. With something this special, the sooner she got it back into the hands of its rightful owner, the better. As she started out the door, she put her hand inside the pocket of her jacket. On the rare chance that someone else was out and about, she didn't want them seeing what she carried.

On the walk over, she glanced toward the new purple sage outside the fence. It looked nice. She was smiling as she pushed the doorbell.

Lauren heard the sound of approaching footsteps and was ready to give Frances the good news. She pulled the necklace out of her pocket and was just starting to extend it when the door pulled open to reveal Willow standing there.

"Well, look who's back." Willow folded her arms across her chest. "It's the laundry lady."

"Is Frances here? Or your aunt?"

Willow looked down at Lauren's hand. "What do we have here?" Her eyes lit with interest.

"I'd like to see Frances, please, or your aunt."

"They're upstairs. Aunt Charlotte has spent the whole day having medical tests. She is exhausted. Frances has taken her up to draw a bath."

"Medical tests?" Lauren glanced toward the stairs. "Is she okay?"

"I'd say that's none of your business." She tilted her chin back and looked down at Lauren. "Why do you have my aunt's necklace?"

Lauren could not mistake the condescension in Willow's expression. She had the urge to give her a nice hard shove but managed to control it. Just barely. "I'd say that's none of your business."

"Oh, I would disagree. I'm guessing this is the very piece that my aunt has been looking for. I would say that is very much my business." Willow focused in on the jewelry.

Oh, this was ridiculous. What did Lauren care about what this girl thought? The important thing was that Miss Montgomery's missing treasure had been located, and that would make her very happy. "I found it in the potting shed this morning."

"The potting shed?" Willow looked toward Lauren and yawned. Lauren knew without a doubt that Willow was making an effort to appear less interested in the necklace than she actually was. She leaned up against the doorframe in a slouched posture, but the action moved her several inches closer to Lauren. "Good for you, then. Thanks for returning it. I'll take it up to my aunt right away."

"I will come back over in half an hour. Surely Frances will be available by then."

"I get it. This is yet another of your ploys to gain my aunt's favor, and you want to make sure that you, and you alone, get the credit for finding this. You and I both know there is an underlying motive, the way you keep kissing up to her. I'm telling you now, you may as well save your energy, because you're not getting one cent of her money."

"My goals are closer to a friendly neighborhood h.e.l.lo than a piece of her bank account. Your sense of reality seems to be a bit warped."

"Right. If you expect me to believe you are truly that nave, then you are the one with a warped sense of reality." She looked down toward Lauren's hand, which still held the necklace.

It was very rare that Lauren truly disliked anyone. Willow, however, had been added to that very short list.

Willow sighed and extended her own hand. "Just give it to me. I will make sure she gets it."

"That's all right. I'll come back." Lauren turned to leave.

"Give that to me. It belongs here." Willow reached out and grabbed the part of the necklace edge that was hanging out of Lauren's hand.

Lauren clamped down firmly, but Willow pulled hard and continued to do so. Lauren became afraid that the necklace was going to break, so she released her grip.

Willow looked up at her victoriously. "Now, why don't you run on back to your little freeloader's shack and leave us alone."

"Just make sure she gets it." Lauren walked off the front porch, feeling very uneasy about leaving the necklace with Willow.

She went home and sent a text to Kendall, hoping even as she did that it wasn't a mistake.

What do you know about Willow Montgomery?

The call came before Lauren was even certain her text had gone through. Kendall's voice was high-pitched and excited. "Willow Montgomery? What makes you ask about her?"

"She is visiting her aunt right now. Something about her just doesn't seem right to me." And I really, really dislike her, too, but maybe I shouldn't go there.

"Wait, she's visiting her aunt?" Kendall's voice squeaked with excitement on the last word. She paused for a second, as if trying to collect herself. In truth, when she spoke next, her voice had gained a measure of control and sounded very professional and businesslike. "And you know that how?"

"I just saw her. I went to . . ." Lauren stopped herself before she blurted out more than she'd intended. "I went to return something to them, and Willow was there. I've seen her there before, and something about her bothers me."

"I'd say you're a good judge of character, then. Something about her bothers a lot of people. Her father was Collin Montgomery's one legitimate heir. He had-still has, actually-quite the reputation as a playboy. He's burned through a pile of his daddy's money, from what I can tell, on wine, women, and song. There are five kids, all by different wives and girlfriends. Willow is the youngest of his children. Her mother was an Italian supermodel. He's been through a couple of wives since then but has managed to avoid producing any more offspring, which is a good thing, because he can't afford them anymore.

"Willow is known for being a socialite party girl, as are most of Eduardo's sp.a.w.n. Rumor is, he cut every single one of them out of the will a few years back. They all have an allowance from the trust fund that he's not allowed to touch, but rumor has it, that fund is dwindling at a fairly rapid rate. Supposedly he declared his offspring and their mothers a bunch of ingrates. He set up his will so that anything he has left when he dies goes directly to charity. Needless to say, there have been lawyers working full-time on both sides of this issue since the first announcement of Eduardo Montgomery's intentions."

"There is something to be said about coming from a family that is flat broke. At least I've never had to deal with this kind of drama."

"True enough." Kendall paused a moment. "So, what was it you were returning to Miss Montgomery's house?"

"It was . . . I did some gardening for her, and I found a couple of misplaced items in her potting shed. I just returned them so they could be put in the right place."

"That's a dreadfully dull answer. Next time, look for something a bit more exciting. Okay?" Kendall laughed as she said it.

You have no idea. "Yes, I sure will."

Charlotte had hurried through the house and out back the moment they'd arrived home. All day long she had been thinking about that necklace, wondering what Lauren might decide to do with it. When they'd pulled up tonight and she'd seen that the sage had indeed been planted, she knew that Lauren had been there.

Without bothering to explain to anyone where she was going, she had grabbed a flashlight and rushed out the side door toward the potting shed. Once inside, she flipped on the light and hurried over to where she had so carefully dropped the necklace. She felt her heart begin to race when she saw that it was indeed gone.

Lauren's true nature was about to be revealed, and there would be no second-guessing it. She couldn't wait to see the results. She hurried back into the house. "Frances? Frances?"

"Yes, ma'am." Frances appeared at the top of the steps. She had been turning down the bed in Charlotte's room.

"Were there any messages when we arrived home? On the phone, I mean? Or at the door?"

"No, ma'am. I did hear Willow speaking to someone, though. You might want to check with her."

Willow came around the corner just then. "That girl from next door stopped by. She wanted to make sure that you saw that she'd planted the sage out front. It seemed important to her that you know that she was the one who did it."

"Well of course I know she did it. Who else would have? Did she say anything else?"

"Nope, not a thing." Willow started up the stairs. "By the way, I think I'm going to head back to LA tonight. I've got a job interview in the morning."

"A job interview? Well, good for you, then." Charlotte was proud that her niece was taking the initiative to improve her life.

twenty-one.

Charlotte watched out her window as Lauren made her usual morning trek down to the beach. She stopped to speak with Frances through the backyard fence, but Frances didn't go near her. She clearly didn't hand her anything. Charlotte's heart squeezed within her. Why had she allowed herself to get her hopes up? She made her way down the stairs. "Frances? Frances."

She went to the back door, where she found her maid sweeping the porch. "What did Lauren want?"

"Oh nothing, she just said good morning. I was asking her how the play was coming along."

"She didn't give you anything? Or mention the necklace?"

"No. Not at all."

"That's what I thought." Charlotte turned toward the front of the house, her legs feeling extra heavy with the exertion. Of course that girl would not return the necklace-what would have made her think differently? By now, she should know better than to hope for such things. Anger rose up to help her drown the pain. She welcomed the relief.

She made her way out the front door and through the gate, then looked at the recently planted sage. The work of a fake and a conniver. She wouldn't have it near her house. She knelt down and ripped one out. Then another. And another. She didn't stop until the entire two rows were pulled out and lying in a pile. Her back and fingers ached from the exertion. To her horror, she realized that she did not have enough strength left to push herself back up to stand. What was she going to do? It would certainly ruin the effect if Lauren came back up and found her sprawled and helpless on the sidewalk.

She crawled closer to the fence. By gripping the rungs she could manage enough leverage to pull herself upward. With a huge amount of effort, she finally got her right foot flat on the ground and then her left. She managed one last pull and was finally upright again. Rage always seemed to strengthen her, and, as usual, that seemed to work in her favor.

Her face was covered in sweat from the exertion, and it was difficult to breathe deeply enough. Finally, after a moment, she felt quite improved. She leaned down, still holding the fence with her right hand, and used her left to dust the dirt off her crepe de chine robe and gown. Likely they were ruined, as was her manicure, but it had been worth it. She looked up just in time to see Lauren round the corner and witness the destruction. The look on her face was as if she'd just been slapped. Hard.

"Frances said if I used your materials it would be okay for me to plant these out here." There were tears pooling in her eyes, the little faker.

Charlotte wanted to tell her that liars were not welcome here, and neither were their fake acts of kindness. What she said instead was, "I a.s.sumed that it would be understood that it would need to be planted properly." Charlotte gestured toward the pile of dirt and plant roots. "Those things were much too close together. It looked like a cluttered mess." She turned and walked back inside the gate without looking to see if her words had found their mark. She concentrated very hard on walking, not hobbling. She wanted to project the right image.

Now to make some calls and make certain that little thief was punished for her crime.

Lauren walked back into her cottage, dropped onto the sofa, and burst into tears. "G.o.d, I don't get it. I've gone out of my way to be nice to that woman. I've tried to be the Good Samaritan, even though she seems to neither want nor deserve such treatment. I've done everything she's ever asked, and yet she is still nasty to me. I just don't get it."

She thought about Rhonda's words, but this wasn't the same. Zacchaeus came down from the tree when called. He accepted Jesus' invitation and changed his life. The wounded man accepted the Good Samaritan's help. He didn't treat him badly in exchange for his consideration.

Maybe Miss Montgomery truly was just a bad person. Maybe she was a murderer, come to think of it. Maybe Kendall was right, and maybe the person who needed a Good Samaritan in her life was the reporter trying to get to the bottom of a man's murder.

Lauren walked over and picked up her cell phone. She started a text to Kendall and attached the pictures of the necklace, front and back. She let her finger rest over the Send b.u.t.ton. She wanted so badly to press it, but her insides screamed against it. Finally, in frustration, she tossed her phone onto the sofa.

A couple of hours later, Lauren saw Frances out cleaning up the mess from the planting. She walked over and began to help her pick up the pieces. "I don't understand. I thought this would make her happy."

Frances shrugged. "She's just so upset this week." She looked at Lauren, a disapproving expression crossing her face.