Booked for Trouble by Eva Gates Page A

you want to tell us about that necklace, Suzanne?”
    â€œI have absolutely no idea what that thing was doing in my bag. Obviously someone stole it and then tried to ditch it by putting it in the first available container.”
    â€œI think I overheard something about that,” I said. “When I left the hotel this morning, an old lady was in the lobby, saying her granddaughter’s birthday present had been stolen. A cop was with her, and George, the manager, was trying to get them out of the lobby. He can’t have been happy at her broadcasting it all over the hotel.”
    â€œWhere was your bag yesterday?” Uncle Amos said.
    Mom shrugged. “I took it with me down to the pool.”
    â€œDid you look in the bag?”
    â€œI told you and the police all this,” she said.
    â€œIndulge me, Suzanne. I’d like to go over it again. See if you can remember anything else.”
    â€œVery well. I might have tossed a towel inside without checking it first. When I got back from the pool, I took out my towel, beach wrap, and book. It’s possible I could have missed seeing the necklace. I put a scarf in the bag in case it was cool later. I dressed for dinner, and dined early so as to go to Lucy’s book club.”
    â€œDid you eat in the hotel restaurant?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDid you bring the beach bag with you?”
    â€œNo.”
    Uncle Amos stopped talking when the waiter returned with the drinks. Mom practically snatched hermartini out of his hand. She took a long gulp. “Really, Amos. I do not know how it got there.”
    â€œCan you take a guess?”
    â€œHold on,” I said. “You’re going too fast. Has Mom been charged with stealing this necklace? You said it was expensive. Like really, really expensive or sorta expensive?”
    â€œReally, really,” Amos said. “Diamonds, of a good size.”
    â€œOh. Is it big?”
    â€œWatson showed us a picture. It’s quite small, and probably very light. A gold chain, of a size that would fit snugly around a woman’s neck, with five diamonds, each of which is a carat or more. Suzanne has not been charged with the theft. The bag was left, unattended, in her hotel room for an hour at least while she was at dinner, and the necklace might have even been there earlier, as she didn’t empty it during the day. I reminded Watson that a hotel room is not a secure place. Staff come and go all day long. Management, maintenance, and housekeeping have master keys. Pretty much anyone who works there can get access to a room if they want.”
    â€œThat’s a comforting thought,” Aunt Ellen said.
    â€œGuests can slip in and out of someone else’s room while a housemaid’s back’s turned. Watson had to agree, reluctantly, that any number of people could have put the item in Suzanne’s bag.”
    â€œWhy would someone do that? And what do you think this has to do with Karen’s death?” I asked.
    â€œThe necklace might have nothing to do with the killing. Not directly, anyway. I also pointed out to Watson that it’s entirely possible the thief feared he or she was about to be discovered yesterday, and for some reason he or she decided they had to get rid of it, and fast.”
    I didn’t say that in that case we were talking about a pretty incompetent thief. Why not stick the darn thing in the depths of a plant pot or something and come back for it later? Not hide it where it was certain to be found, and very soon.
    Almost anything might have happened, but the only thing that made any sense at all was that someone was trying to frame my mom. I couldn’t see that this was a coincidence, particularly after Karen had said, in front of a roomful of witnesses, that Mom had been called a thief in school. The idea was ridiculous. I knew my mom. If she wanted something, she bought it. I know there are those to whom thievery is a compulsion, the