Dior or Die (Joanna Hayworth Vintage Clothing Mysteries Book 2) by Angela M. Sanders
Authors: Angela M. Sanders
Tags: Mystery
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back by the loading bay."
The temperature dropped as Joanna passed through the door separating the work area from the heated front of the warehouse. She didn't have much time. Helena might be able to keep him talking for five or ten minutes, but probably not longer. Joanna glanced behind her to make sure they were out of sight.
Poppy's office was to the left, behind the counter where clients paid for their bids. Wood wainscoting framed the lower half of the office, and glass windows extended from waist height to the ceiling, allowing Poppy to keep an eye on things while she worked. Joanna tried the door handle and it opened. She whispered "yes" under her breath.
The inventories had to be here somewhere. A gooseneck desk lamp shone a pool of light on stacks of papers covering the desk. Next to it was a coffee mug shaped like a margarita glass with "Cabo, Mexico" painted on its side. She slid open the deep bottom drawer of Poppy's desk. It was empty except for a jar of peanuts and a bag of potato chips with its top neatly folded.
After another glance to make sure Helena and Ben were still in the showroom, she tried one of the filing cabinets. Locked. Damn. Filing cabinet keys were too small to fit well on a keychain. She'd be willing to bet Poppy hid them somewhere. No room for a key above the door. She opened the top desk drawers and fished through pens and paperclips. No key there, either. She dipped her hand into the pencil holder. Her fingers touched a small, steel key. Success.
The office's overhead light switched on. Her heart stopped.
"What are you doing in here?" Ben leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms in front of his chest. Joanna had forgotten how tall he was.
She backed into the bookcases. "Where's Helena?"
"I asked you a question."
Her mind raced. "I wanted to see a list of the things I bought from the North lot. Poppy told me the inventory was in the filing cabinet," she lied. "I saw her in jail."
"So you just came in here and started looking around?"
Deep breath. Appear normal, she told herself. Calm. Why the hell hadn't Helena kept him away? Time for the back-up plan.
Joanna unclipped her purse and drew out a piece of a pronged jewelry setting. Ben wouldn't know it was costume, severed from an orphaned earring that morning and slipped into her purse just in case. "Look what I found outside the bathroom."
He leaned forward. She withdrew her hand before he could look too closely. "Evidence from the diamond thefts. Broken off of a stolen piece of jewelry. I'm bringing it to the police."
His face stiffened. "That's nothing. A piece of old metal. There's stuff like that all over the place here."
She clenched a fist to keep her hand from trembling. "I bet the thief left it behind when he pulled the diamonds from a setting. You know, so the jewelry couldn't be traced."
"You said 'he.' The police say it's Poppy."
Joanna mustered up a confident tone. "No way. She’ll be out soon. Once the judge sets bail it shouldn't be long." She turned the broken jewelry setting in her palm. "Maybe this will help clear her."
Ben ran long fingers through his hair. "Give it to me. I'll take care of it." He reached for the setting.
She closed her fingers around it. "No. I'll deal with it." The real diamond thief had to be someone with access to both the warehouse and the office. Someone like Ben. A chill ran through her.
"Why? It was found on the auction house's premises."
"And I'm the one who found it. I'll give it to the police."
His glasses bizarrely magnified his eyes. They narrowed. "You don't trust me. You think I'm the thief, don't you?"
Ben’s body filled the doorway. If she had to, she could grab the gooseneck lamp and swing it at him. She felt the cool wood of the bookcase behind her. They say women should fight with their legs. "It had to be someone here, right?"
"That's what I was thinking, too." He stepped forward and slumped into the chair across from the desk. Joanna's
The temperature dropped as Joanna passed through the door separating the work area from the heated front of the warehouse. She didn't have much time. Helena might be able to keep him talking for five or ten minutes, but probably not longer. Joanna glanced behind her to make sure they were out of sight.
Poppy's office was to the left, behind the counter where clients paid for their bids. Wood wainscoting framed the lower half of the office, and glass windows extended from waist height to the ceiling, allowing Poppy to keep an eye on things while she worked. Joanna tried the door handle and it opened. She whispered "yes" under her breath.
The inventories had to be here somewhere. A gooseneck desk lamp shone a pool of light on stacks of papers covering the desk. Next to it was a coffee mug shaped like a margarita glass with "Cabo, Mexico" painted on its side. She slid open the deep bottom drawer of Poppy's desk. It was empty except for a jar of peanuts and a bag of potato chips with its top neatly folded.
After another glance to make sure Helena and Ben were still in the showroom, she tried one of the filing cabinets. Locked. Damn. Filing cabinet keys were too small to fit well on a keychain. She'd be willing to bet Poppy hid them somewhere. No room for a key above the door. She opened the top desk drawers and fished through pens and paperclips. No key there, either. She dipped her hand into the pencil holder. Her fingers touched a small, steel key. Success.
The office's overhead light switched on. Her heart stopped.
"What are you doing in here?" Ben leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms in front of his chest. Joanna had forgotten how tall he was.
She backed into the bookcases. "Where's Helena?"
"I asked you a question."
Her mind raced. "I wanted to see a list of the things I bought from the North lot. Poppy told me the inventory was in the filing cabinet," she lied. "I saw her in jail."
"So you just came in here and started looking around?"
Deep breath. Appear normal, she told herself. Calm. Why the hell hadn't Helena kept him away? Time for the back-up plan.
Joanna unclipped her purse and drew out a piece of a pronged jewelry setting. Ben wouldn't know it was costume, severed from an orphaned earring that morning and slipped into her purse just in case. "Look what I found outside the bathroom."
He leaned forward. She withdrew her hand before he could look too closely. "Evidence from the diamond thefts. Broken off of a stolen piece of jewelry. I'm bringing it to the police."
His face stiffened. "That's nothing. A piece of old metal. There's stuff like that all over the place here."
She clenched a fist to keep her hand from trembling. "I bet the thief left it behind when he pulled the diamonds from a setting. You know, so the jewelry couldn't be traced."
"You said 'he.' The police say it's Poppy."
Joanna mustered up a confident tone. "No way. She’ll be out soon. Once the judge sets bail it shouldn't be long." She turned the broken jewelry setting in her palm. "Maybe this will help clear her."
Ben ran long fingers through his hair. "Give it to me. I'll take care of it." He reached for the setting.
She closed her fingers around it. "No. I'll deal with it." The real diamond thief had to be someone with access to both the warehouse and the office. Someone like Ben. A chill ran through her.
"Why? It was found on the auction house's premises."
"And I'm the one who found it. I'll give it to the police."
His glasses bizarrely magnified his eyes. They narrowed. "You don't trust me. You think I'm the thief, don't you?"
Ben’s body filled the doorway. If she had to, she could grab the gooseneck lamp and swing it at him. She felt the cool wood of the bookcase behind her. They say women should fight with their legs. "It had to be someone here, right?"
"That's what I was thinking, too." He stepped forward and slumped into the chair across from the desk. Joanna's
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