Rear-View Murder: A Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery Page 7

  “I’ve thought of that, too,” Gemma said, toying with the edge of the comforter.

  They were both quiet for a while and then Holly said, “Let’s order a pizza.”

  Gemma shook off her melancholy and smiled, but her smile was weak. “Okay, sounds good.”

  The pizza was delicious, hot and very cheesy and just the way Gemma liked it. The two sat side by side on Holly’s bed, the pizza box between them, pillows tucked in behind them.

  “Been a long time since we did this, huh?” Gemma said.

  “Too long,” Holly said, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

  And then she sat up and reached for one of her many books on stones she almost always carried with her. “I really haven’t studied opals all that much, but let me show you what I found.”

  “It’s my birthstone,” Gemma announced.

  “I know that. But listen to this. Opals are known as the eye stone. They’re like lightning in a rainbow,” Holly began.

  Gemma turned the ring in her fingers watching the flash of fire even in the low light. “I can see that.”

  “In the ancient world it was considered to be the most bewitching and mysterious of gems. They believed it was capable of providing great luck and was called the Queen of Gems for a while.” Holly paused and then read further. “Then it fell from grace and became linked with rumors, misfortunes and mysterious fatalities. Very bad luck.”

  Holly stopped reading and looked up at Gemma. Gemma nodded slightly, the irony of that last sentence hitting home.

  “In the metaphysical world, opal acts as a prism within the aura. It enkindles optimism, enthusiasm and creativity, and allows for the release of inhibitions inspiring love and passion.”

  Holly read silently for a few moments while Gemma digested what she’d just heard.

  “Green opals have the ability to filter information and reorient the mind, giving meaning to everyday life. Green opals activate the heart chakra, the energy of family and health, prosperity and abundance. It’s also a stone of protection for mothers to be and a seductive stone, evoking passion and eroticism.”

  “Well, it didn’t protect this mother to be,” Gemma muttered, holding the ring in her palm.

  “If she was a mother to be,” Holly reminded her. “And after seeing those women today, I don’t think anything could have protected her.”

  “You’re probably right,” Gemma said and stifled a yawn.

  “Let’s get some sleep and hit the jewelry stores in the morning,” Holly suggested. “A green opal with fire - those flashes of color - is incredibly rare. Most green opals are opaque.”

  “Maybe they can tell us something about the ring, then,” Gemma said as she pulled the covers back and climbed into bed. “We might be able to find out where it was purchased.”

  “Uh-huh,” Holly said, turning off the light.

  “And who purchased it.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Which might lead us to who killed Opal Sparrow.”

  “Go to sleep, Sherlock Holmes,” Holly said.

  Chapter Ten

  Gemma was dreaming. She was in the forest again, running as fast as she could on slippery wet leaves and undergrowth. She dodged low hanging branches, glancing over her shoulder from time to time. The dark, shadowy figure was back there. She could hear him grunting and moaning in the darkness. She couldn’t tell if he was gaining on her or not, but he was relentless.

  The blue Honda appeared, bringing Gemma to a skidding stop. The trunk was open again and this time Opal’s face appeared in the back window. Not a skeleton face but the pretty face framed by golden curls in the photograph. And then her hand appeared, half skeleton, half rotting flesh and she pointed at something behind Gemma.

  Gemma turned.

  The squawking alarm on her cell brought her wide awake and she reached over to shut it off.

  In the next bed, Holly groaned and covered her head with her pillows.

  “Sorry,” Gemma whispered and settled back into the covers. Gray dawn was just lightening the window and she lay there wondering about the dream. Did it have some meaning or was it just her subconscious working over time?

  Her gaze landed on Opal’s ring lying on the night stand. Every time she spotted it she looked for the fire and it was always there, no matter what the light. She picked it up and cradled it in her hand, wishing the ring could talk. She wondered about Opal’s family and hoped they were starting to heal. She wondered about the women on the streets they had talked to the day before. Gemma certainly hoped they were safe, at least temporarily. And what about Opal’s killer? He was out there somewhere and she hoped and prayed he wasn’t stalking another victim.

  Unable to sit still any longer, Gemma tiptoed to the bathroom. After her shower, she dressed in one of her favorite outfits, a brightly colored knee length skirt and a soft, sleeveless V-neck sweater that complimented the colors in the skirt. She did what she could to tame her wild curls and then dabbed on a bit of make-up.

  “Do you ever sleep?” Holly asked when she came back into the bedroom.

  “I had a bad dream,” Gemma said.

  “I’m sorry,” Holly said, giving her a quick hug. “Want to talk about it?”

  Gemma shook her head and watched her best friend stand up and stretch. “I’m going after coffee.”

  Traffic was already filling the street when Gemma stepped outside. There was a lot of pedestrians as well, men and women dressed in business attire carrying briefcases. They were pretty close to the capitol building and, as she walked along the busy sidewalk, she wondered how many of them worked there. Could one of them be a senator? Did they just walk up and down the street? She had no idea.

  After waiting in line for too long at the coffee shop, Gemma made her way back to the hotel. Holly was just getting off the phone with Mitch. She was dressed in business casual, as she liked to call it. Gemma handed her the coffee and sat down on the opposite bed.

  “How do you always look so perfect?”

  “What?”

  “Your skin is flawless and your hair looks like black silk,” Gemma said.

  Holly simply stared at her as if she was speaking a foreign language and changed the subject. “I made a list of some jewelry stores here in town that might sell a ring like the one you found.”

  “Okay, let’s get started,” Gemma said, grabbing her purse.

  The GPS in Holly’s SUV took them to a jewelry store not far from the capitol. In fact, Gemma realized they could have walked. The jeweler looked at the ring carefully and guessed it to be worth about three thousand dollars. He spoke of clarity and design and many other things that Holly seemed to understand perfectly.

  “Would that ring have been purchased here?” Gemma asked.

  “No, we rarely sell green opal. I would have remembered this ring,” he told them.

  The next jeweler had about the same reaction, only she priced the ring much higher.

  Traffic was horrendous and Gemma thought they would never make it to the third jeweler on Holly’s list. It was in a mall, blessedly cool there and mostly empty. The jewelry store they entered was filled with glittering diamonds in display cases which were mounted under a glass, U-shaped counter. A bell chimed when they crossed the threshold and an older woman came out to greet them right away

  “Hello, my name is Claire,” she said, offering her hand.

  Gemma shook her hand and looked into clear gray eyes. She had soft, curly hair, quickly turning to silver and she smelled vaguely of lilac. Gemma thought she must have been stunning when she was a young woman.

  “I’m Gemma Stone,” Gemma said. “And this is my best friend Holly Blake.”

  “Nice to meet you both. How can I help you today?” Claire asked.

  “We have a ring we’d like for you to look at,” Gemma said, pulling that now familiar small gold box out of her purse.

  Claire opened the box and gasped. “Oh my, this is exquisite.”

  “Yes, ma’am, it is,” Gemma said.


  “Would that ring have been purchased here?” Holly asked.

  Claire studied it for a moment longer and Gemma held her breath.

  “What? Oh, no, this is a one of a kind piece. Probably made to order.”

  “Do you have any idea who would have made it?” Gemma asked, almost afraid of the answer.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Here in Richmond?”

  Claire shook her head and Gemma’s heart sank. Perhaps Opal had stolen the ring from some out of town customer after all.

  “...Short Pump,” Claire was saying.

  “Oh, we go shopping there sometimes,” Holly told her. “Mostly around the holidays.”

  “You and everyone else in Virginia,” Claire said with a laugh.

  Short Pump was only about twenty miles away. Gemma was elated.

  “Hearts Afire is a little off the beaten path. I’m sorry, I don’t know the jeweler’s name but he designs and sells jewelry using precious stones,” Claire told them as she placed the ring back in the box. “He’s mostly known for his use of black and fire opal. I’ve never seen him use green opal like this before.”

  “Thank you so much,” Holly said. “You’ve been a huge help.”

  Gemma took the box and thanked Claire as well.

  “Well, thank you for showing me that ring. It certainly brightened up this quiet day,” Claire told them.

  “I want to come back and talk to her again,” Holly said when they were back on the road. “She might have some ideas that would help us with HealthGems.”

  “Uh-huh.” Gemma’s thoughts were on the jeweler who designed the ring she carried in her purse. Hopefully he would be able to tell them something.

  They found Hearts Afire after a couple of wrong turns and a little searching. It really was off the beaten path, tucked away in a quiet little place called Lover’s Ring. The ring consisted of a circle of small, neat looking buildings, each of them facing a beautifully landscaped greenspace. A riot of color met her gaze, interspersed with shade trees and even a small pond. Stone benches were arranged so that some of them were under those shade trees but some allowed full sun.

  “How quaint,” Holly said as she slowly navigated the circular drive that took them past each shop.

  “There’s a florist and a bakery,” Gemma said, staring around her at this oasis in the middle of the city. “And a bridal shop and a photographer.”

  “What a cool idea,” Holly said, coming to a stop in front of Hearts Afire.

  It was an exact replica of all the others, complete with a wooden porch and a screen door. “I almost feel like I should knock,” Gemma whispered.

  Holly laughed, opened the door and they stepped inside. The little store needed no other decoration than the jewelry on display. Each piece or set was showcased perfectly and Gemma saw Holly’s eyes light up as she moved from one artfully arranged presentation to another.

  “May I help you?”

  If Gemma thought the stones were gorgeous, they were nothing compared to the vision that came out of the back room. He had dark hair and even darker eyes. The tailored suit he wore emphasized broad shoulders and he moved with the easy grace of an athlete.

  “Yes, hello. My name is Holly Blake,” Holly said, extending her hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Blake,” he said, in that rich, deep voice. “I’m Max Sanderson.”

  “And I’m Gemma Stone,” Gemma said, finally finding her voice.

  “What can I do for you ladies today?” he asked, clasping his big hands in front of him.

  That reminded Gemma that they were there for a reason, not just to stare at Mr. Delicious himself. “We have a ring we’d like for you to see,” she said, pulling that small box out of her purse and placing it on the counter.

  He opened the box carefully and took the ring out, holding it as if it was the most precious thing in the world. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out the now familiar jeweler’s loupe to study the ring more closely. Finally, he nodded. “Yes, this is one of mine. I always put an S inside the band, as close to the stone as I can.”

  “Sort of like an artist signing a portrait,” Holly explained when he handed her the loupe and the ring so she could see. “Oh, yes, I see it now.”

  He nodded. Gemma held her breath, feeling like they were standing on the edge of a cliff.

  “So it was purchased here?” Holly asked.

  “Yes. Must have been almost a year ago. Purchased as an engagement ring. If I remember correctly. He was quite young with blond, almost white hair.”

  Gemma’s heart dropped. That information sent Sadie’s senator story out the window.

  “Would you happen to have his name?” Holly asked, “Maybe from his credit card or...?”

  Max Sanderson was shaking his head back and forth slowly. “He paid in cash. Said his relatives had chipped in to help pay for the ring. He didn’t seem very excited about it, though. Almost as if he was just running an errand.”

  Gemma’s disappointment grew.

  “So you really have no idea who he might have been?” Holly said.

  “I didn’t say that. I said, he paid cash. What I do have is a certificate of authenticity that I fill out for each of my designs. Kind of helps me keep track of each of them and helps other jewelers as well, in the event that someone wants to sell it.”

  “Would you have that information available?” Holly asked.

  The jeweler looked from one of them to the other. “May I ask if you are police officers?” he asked.

  “No, oh, no,” Holly said much too quickly.

  Gemma was surprised that he was the first jeweler who had asked them that question. She blurted out the explanation she had anticipated using much sooner than this. “We were at a huge party, political rally really and we found this ring in between the sofa cushions. We just want to return it to its rightful owner.”

  He hesitated as if trying to decide whether to believe her or not and Gemma held her breath. Finally he said, “Let me go pull that certificate.”

  Gemma could hardly contain her excitement. They were one step closer to finding out what happened to Opal. And then she realized that he still had the ring, had in fact not put it down since they had come into the store.

  “He took it with him?” she whispered.

  “He’ll bring it back,” Holly whispered back.

  “What if he switches it or something?”

  Holly just looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.

  “What if he takes off out the back door or...?”

  “Here we go.” The jeweler placed a certificate on the counter in front of them, filled out completely with the purchaser’s name, the amount paid and the date of purchase. That name was the only thing that Gemma was interested in seeing.

  Chuck Miller.

  “Thank you,” Holly said. “This is exactly what we needed to know.”

  “And here’s your ring back,” he said, placing it tenderly in the small box and handing it back to Gemma. Their eyes met and she was sure he had somehow heard her accusations earlier.

  “Yes, thank you so much,” Gemma said.

  Back in the SUV, Holly didn’t seem as thrilled as Gemma that they now had a name.

  “Do we even have a Senator Chuck Miller?” Gemma asked.

  Holly shook her head. “I doubt it. And there could be a hundred Chuck Millers in the area.”

  “You’re right,” Gemma said.

  “That might have even been a name he just made up,” Holly added.

  Fifteen minutes later they were sitting in a booth in a restaurant not far from Lover’s Ring, placing their lunch orders. Holly’s phone rang. She smiled at the screen and Gemma knew it was Mitch. Only one person could make her best friend smile like that.

  While Holly talked to Mitch, Gemma googled Chuck Miller. Holly was right, there were several in Virginia. Gemma narrowed that down to the ones in Richmond and the surrounding area. She narrowed that down further by age. That still left her
with five Chuck Millers who might have purchased that ring for Opal.

  Her next move was to scan the results for newspaper or magazine articles with Chuck Miller in the headline, even though she knew that was a long shot, too. The first article that came up stopped her in her tracks. “Senator Everett Dixon and his Chief Aide Charles Miller”.

  Chapter Eleven

  Holding her breath, Gemma tapped the screen and a picture appeared. There was the Senator on the capitol steps. It looked like he was making a speech or something. She could see the bank of microphones in front of him, and right behind him stood a young man with shocking blond hair.

  “Bingo,” she said, turning the phone so Holly could see the screen.

  “Um, baby? I gotta go,” Holly said, her eyes on the screen. “Yes, I love you, too. I’ll call when we head home.”

  “Chuck Miller is the Chief Aide for Senator Everett Dixon,” Gemma told her. “Do you know what this means?”

  “It means that he purchased a ring and somehow it ended up on or near the dead body of a woman.”

  “In the trunk of my car.”

  “True.”

  “I want to see this senator right now,” Gemma said.

  “I’m pretty sure he’s not here,” Holly said calmly.

  “What? He’s not in Richmond? He’s a state senator. Where else would he be?”

  Holly shook her head, her sleek, dark hair brushing her shoulders. “I can find out but I’m pretty sure this time of year they’re back in their home areas working from offices there.”

  “Then let’s go find him.”

  “Gemma, you can’t just barge into a state senator’s office and start asking questions,” Holly said.

  At that moment their food arrived and Gemma clamped her mouth shut. The waitress glanced nervously from one to the other while she served them, refilled their glasses and then made a hasty retreat.

  “Maybe she was seeing Miller and not the senator,” Holly suggested.

  “Does an aide make that kind of money?”

  Holly shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  Gemma’s phone chimed. Nick’s number appeared on the screen.