Suzanna's Surrender

“Sounds like my nephew. Lives in Rochester with his second wife. Sells used cars.”

“Thanks.” Holt wasn't surprised the thief had given a phony address, but he was annoyed. As they came out of the building, he dug a quarter from his pocket.

“I guess we wait until morning,” Max was saying. “He doesn't know we're onto him, so he'll show up for work.”

“I'm finished waiting.” Holt headed for a phone booth. After dropping in the coin, he punched in numbers. “This is Detective Sergeant Bradford, Portland P.D., badge number 7375.1 need a cross – check.” He reeled off the phone number from Marshall's file. Then he held on with a cop's patience while the operator set her computer to work. “Thanks.” He hung up and turned to the three men. “Bar Island,” he said. “We'll take my boat.”

While their men prepared to sail across the bay, the Calhoun women met in Bianca's tower. “So,” Amanda began, pad and pencil at the ready. “What do we know?”

“Trent's been cross – checking the personnel files,” C.C. supplied. “He claimed there was some hitch in withholding taxes, but that's bull.”

“Interesting,” Lilah mused. “Max stopped me from going over to the west wing this morning. I'd wanted to see how things were going, and he made all kinds of lame excuses why I shouldn't distract the men while they were working.”

“And Sloan shoved a couple of files into a drawer, and locked it when I came into the room last night.” Amanda tapped her pencil on the pad. “Why wouldn't they want us to know if they're checking up on the crews?”

“I think I have an idea,” Suzanna said slowly. She'd been chewing it over most of the day. “Last night I found out that Holt's cottage had been broken into and searched.”

Her three sisters pounced on that, hammering her with questions.

“Just wait.” She lifted a hand. “He was irritated with me, which is why it came out. He was even more irritated that it had. But he did tell me, because he wanted to scare me into backing off, that he was certain it was Livingston.”

“Which means,” Amanda concluded, “that our old friend knows Holt's connected. Who else knows besides us?” In her organized way, she began to list names.

“Oh, stop fussing,” Lilah said with a negligent wave of her hand. “No one knows except the family. None of us have mentioned it outside of this house.”

“Maybe he found out the same way Max did,” C.C. suggested. “From the library.”

“Max checked out the books.” Lilah shook her head. “Maybe he found the information in the papers he stole from us.”

“It's possible.” Amanda noted it down. “But he's had the papers for weeks. When did he break into the cottage?”

“A couple weeks ago, but I don't think he made the connection that way. I think he got it from us.”

There was an instant argument. Suzanna stood, throwing up both hands to cut it off. “Listen, we're agreed that none of us have discussed this outside of the house. And we're agreed that the men are trying to keep us from finding out they're checking out the crews. Which means –”

“Which means,” Amanda interrupted and shut her eyes. “The bastard's working for us. Like a fly on the wall, so he can pick up little pieces of information, poke around the house. We're so used to seeing guys hauling lumber, we wouldn't give him a second look.”

“I think Holt already came to that conclusion.” Suzanna lifted her hands again. “The question is, what do we do about it?”

“We give the construction boys a thrill tomorrow, and visit the west wing.” Lilah straightened from the window seat. “I don't care what he's made himself look like this time, I'll know him if I get close enough.” With that settled, she sat back. “Now, Suzanna, why don't you tell us when bad boy Bradford asked you to marry him?”

Suzanna grinned. “How did you know?”

“For an ex – cop, he's got great taste in jewelry.” She took Suzanna's hand to show off the ring to her other sisters.

“Last night,” she said as she was hugged and kissed and wept over. “We told the kids this morning.”

“Aunt Coco's going to go through the roof.” C.C. gave Suzanna another squeeze. “All four of us in a matter of months. She'll be in matchmaker heaven.”

“All we need now is to get that creep behind bars and find the emeralds.” Amanda dashed a tear away. “Oh, no! Do you realize what this means?”

“It means you have to organize another wedding,” Suzanna answered.

“Not just that. It means we're going to be stuck with Aunt Colleen at least until the last handful of rice gets tossed.”

Holt returned to The Towers in a foul mood. They'd found the house. Empty. They had no doubt that Livingston was living there. Bending the law more than a little, he had broken in and given the place as meticulous a search as Livingston had given his cottage. They'd found the stolen Calhoun papers, the lists the thief had made and a copy of the original blueprints of The Towers.